#but the only thing throwing me off is that u can’t clipping mask on a group 😭😭 gotta find a way

[swordmaid]

hehehheheheheheheh 🤭

[celestialvoid-fanfiction]

Sterek AU where Stiles and Scott are police men. Stiles always tells Scott how lucky he is to have Allison (a paramedic), because dating as a cop is hard; there are three types of people: those who run at the sight of the badge because they’re intimidated, those who are in the services or army who understand but are never there when you need them, and those who only want to play with the handcuffs.

To prove his point, two guys across the room keep eyeing them up. Finally, one works up the courage to come over. Stiles counts down, “Three… two… one..” and pulls back his jacket to show the badge clipped onto his belt. The man turns and runs away, making his friend burst out in laughter. “And that one,” Stiles says, pointing at the man laughing. “Is thinking ‘I don’t mind the handcuffs’.”

Later, when Stiles goes up to the bar to order another round of drinks for him and Scott, the other man walks up to him.

“If you’re going to ask if we can play with the handcuffs, then the answer is no,” Stiles says before the man can speak.

“Actually, I was going to say you have a nice smile,” the man says.

Stiles turns to look at him. “You in the services? Army?”

“Fire brigade,” the man answers.

“Figures,” Stiles says.

“Let me guess: the three types of people you date?”

Stiles looks at him, surprised. “How did you know?”

“We get it too. They’re either services or army, unable to commit to someone who will drop anything and everything when the pager goes off, or they want the poles, the uniform, or what’s on the calendars.”

Stiles can’t help but laugh.

“I’m Derek,” the man introduces himself, holding out his hand.

“Stiles.”

They get to talking, and slowly get to know each other. They go on a couple of dates and later move in together. Derek asks Stiles about the anchor necklace he wears, and Stiles explains that it used to be his mother’s; faith, hope and charity (a cross, an anchor and a heart), and when she died, she gave it to Stiles. He lost the other two pendants a while ago and thought about replacing them, but at the same time, he likes it how it is; because no matter what life throws at you, there’s always hope.

Derek tells Stiles about how he lost his family in a fire and now he only had his sisters and his uncle, and none of them know he’s gay. Stiles tells him it’s okay, whenever his family’s around he’ll leave the apartment, or he’ll just introduce himself as his friend. He tells Derek that it’s his choice, and he can tell them when he’s ready.

On the day that Derek decides to tell his sisters, he gets called away to a building fire. The blaze is out of control and the police are called in help contain the situation. But when they get there, Stiles asks for a brief and the lieutenant tells him that they’ve evacuated the building, but they can’t get a reply from Captain Hale.

Stiles begins to panic, but picks up on something, the broken static of the receiver that’s linked to Derek’s channel. He begins to write it down, deciphering the Morse code. M-A-S-K/B-R-O-K-E/C-A-N-T/B-R-E-A-T-H-E/L-E-G/S-T-U-C-K

Stiles grabs the receiver. “Derek, listen to me. Hold on. I’m coming to get you.”

“You can’t,” the lieutenant objects. “The building’s not stable enough. You step in there and the whole thing will come down on you and Derek.”

“There’s got to be a way to get to him,” Scott insists.

“Tunnels,” Stiles says. “There’s service tunnels under every large building in the city. We can go under the building, get Derek, and get out.”

“With Captain Hale stuck in that building, I’m in charge and I can’t authorise my men to go on a suicide mission.”

“Then don’t. I volunteer,” Stiles says, walking over to one of the trucks and gathering the equipment: oxygen mask and a fire-proof suit. He runs over to the ambulance that’s waiting nearby and looks at Allison. “How ballsy are you feeling today?”

“You’re going in, aren’t you?”

“There’s a man in there. He’s pinned with a broken mask; smoke inhalation and a possible broken leg,” Stiles explains.

“I’m in,” Allison says, joining Stiles at the truck and suiting up before grabbing an oxygen mask for Derek, some medical supplies, and a stretcher.

“I’m coming with you,” Scott says.

“No.”

“You can’t carry Derek out alone; you need two people to carry the stretcher and Allison will be treating him,” he points out.

“Fine, suit up.”

At that moment, he sees a young girl go racing towards the building.

Lieutenant Parrish is quick to grab her, but she tries to fight her way out of his arms. Stiles recognises her; Derek’s little sister, Cora. She’s screaming about going in to get her brother, but Parrish tries to pull her thrashing body back towards the crowd.

Stiles calls out her name, pulling the necklace from his neck and giving it to her. “It means hope. Derek would never forgive us if you went in there. I’m going in to get your brother, I just need you to have hope.”

She takes the necklace and nods, tears trailing down her cheeks as Parrish walks her back over to Laura.

Stiles, Scott and Allison go in through the tunnels, finding Derek unconscious under a fallen beam. Stiles and Scott hoist it off him and Allison quickly goes to work trying to treat the wound in his leg where a metal bar has impaled him. When he’s stable, Scott and Stiles hoist him onto the stretcher and they get out, just in time because the building collapses.

They get him to the ambulance and Allison rushes him to hospital. Stiles goes over to Laura and Cora, telling them to follow him as he gets into his car and follows the ambulance to hospital. He waits with the sisters until Derek’s out of surgery and then waits in the hallway while they sit by his bedside.

As Derek regains consciousness, he sees the anchor necklace around Cora’s neck, gently reaching up to touch it and whispering Stiles’ name over and over again.

It doesn’t take long for Laura to work out that there’s something between the two of them, but she stays quiet, knowing that her brother will tell her when he’s ready. And he does, a few days later when he’s strong enough to speak. He tells them that he’s in a relationship with Stiles and they just smile and hug him.

[jaewrxtes]

«Chapter One: In the Village ♖»

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

# of Words: 2131 [About 2.1k]

Summary: Meeting the main character and her friends~

Warnings: None :D

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

[Flashback]

Children ran around on the dirt roads that were all around the village.

“Tag! You’re it!” one of the kids shouted as they tapped the shoulder of on of their friends.

“Taejun come back here!” The boy the kid tagged shouted.

“YOUNGMIN IS IT!!!” Taejun shouted as he ran away from the boy and towards the other kids.

“Jun don’t run near us!!” One of the girls shouted.

“Boohoo Yiren!” He said with a smirk, “YOUNGMIN THE GIRLS ARE OVER HERE!!!”

The boy ran towards them and they all ran around everywhere, having fun while being themselves.

The sun was starting to set and the youngest out of all of them was panting.

“I’m tired” He said in a cute tone.

One of the girls sighed, “Minnie let’s go sit down then.” “Minjae no want to!!!” The boy said with a pout, “I no want stop fun!”

“You little kid..” Taejun laughed, “Minjae, we can have fun tomorrow okay?” “But me want fun with Rin-noona!” Minjae told him, “Rin-noona!!” “Kiddo we’ll have fun tomorrow okay?” The girl told him, “I promise.” “See Minjae! Jaerin said we’ll have fun tomorrow!” [Y/n] told him with a smile.

The six kids all laughed and already started planning out what they would be doing tomorrow.

“We should make cloaks tomorrow!!” Taejun exclaimed, “I can steal some fabric from Taeil-hyung’s stash!!!” “Ye ye!!! Minjae want cloak!!!” Jaerin frowned, “Stealing from your brother really, Taejun? Why don’t you just ask him?”

“Where’s the fun in that miss bookworm? Hm?” The boy retorted.

The two glared at each other for a while and it was silent.

You could hear a pin drop with how quiet it was.

“lIKE aWKwarD sILENCE!!!” Youngmin shouted.

“cAW CAw cAw!”

The twins laughed together and the rest of the group stared at them before laughing along with them.

“Jaerin! [Y/n]!” The kids heard someone shout.

They all turned around and saw the brother of Jaerin waving at them.

“Kun!” His little sister shouted with a smile as she ran up to him.

He smiled and ruffled her hair, “Hey there kid. I’m here to pick you and [Y/n] up. Remember you two are having a sleepover today.” “nO fAIr yOu gIRLs aRE haVING a sLEEPover wiTHOUT mE!” Taejun shouted with a pout.

“We hang out everyday Jun, chill.” [Y/n] told him with a laugh.

“Everyday hm? WHAT ABOUT EVERY NIGHT HMMMMM????”

Youngmin placed his hand over Taejun’s mouth and sighed, “I’m sorry hyung.. You can take [Y/n] and Jaerin! We’ll be heading home too!” “No need to apologize, kiddo. Say hello to Youngho-hyung for me.” Kun told him, “[Y/n] let’s go?” “Coming!” She shouted and ran to join Jaerin and her brother.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

[Present Day]

“I miss those days..” Taejun laughed, “If only the twins didn’t have to move to Ravaia..”

“And your brother didn’t have to go study in Florgia.” You said with a sigh, “At least Jaerin studies in the kingdom still.” The boy grinned, “Rinnie will always be here as long as her family’s library is here~ And I’ll always be here as long as I live!”

You tilted your head in confusion, “Right before we were talking about our memories you just said that you were gonna die because of Prince Woo-” “AH BAH BUH BUH! SHHHHHHHHHHHH!” Taejun shouted, “ qUIET [Y/n]!”

People started staring at you two and you both stared at each other blankly in confusion.

“Okay people stop staring!” Someone shouted, “It’s very impolite!”

The girl had long brown hair, tied up into a ponytail with a white flower clip covering the tie. She had a white button-up shirt and a knee-length black pleated skirt on with a matching navy tie and black flats.

“Rin! You’re back!” Taejun exclaimed, “I thought your lessons went on for another hour!”

The girl nodded, “They were but Mr. Kim was summoned to the castle. I was able to leave early because of it.”

“So Jaerin, what do you have to teach us today?” You asked with a smile.

She sat down at the table where you and Taejun were sitting at and shrugged, “Sadly, I have nothing to teach. I just reviewed what I learned last time.”

The boy who was once sitting, stood up and gave Jaerin a back hug, “Did you see any of the princes~ Did you see Prince Yeo-” “I will shove a book down your throat Moon Taejun.” She cut him off with a glare as she pulled his arms off of her.

You laughed at the two and they started laughing along with you.

“But seriously. I heard some of the Princes were coming today.” Taejun said, “I just didn’t know which ones.” “Now where did you hear that from?” You asked, “The old fashion ladies that throw fabrics on you?” The boy laughed and shook his head, “Nope! Prince Seonghwa is coming to the village today along with another prince to check out the Library. I heard from Mrs. Jeon.” Jaerin’s eyes widened and she abruptly stood up, almost falling.

“THEY ARE WHAT?!” She shouted.

Jaerin’s family ran the Village Library and not many people go there unless they want to read some ‘stupid’ books or if they were students, which are rare.

The library was a normal hangout place for the trio and all the books meant so much to Jaerin as she could learn more and help teach her friends something with them.

Plus she has an emotional connection with it as her family has run it for generations and her family has done so many things together there.

“They are going to the library dear. Now chill~” Taejun said.

You nodded, “Rin, everything will be fine. Don’t worry!” “dON’t wORRY?!” Jaerin gasped, “MY PARENTS ARE OUT OF TOWN AND KUN IS PROBABLY WITH TEN AND SICHENG! There’s no one at the Library!”

You and Taejun patted her shoulders and grabbed her bags for her.

“Well then, no more time to waste! We are heading over to the Library!”

The three of you rushed to the library to clean up and prepare for the Princes’ arrival.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Once you were all in the library, you all grabbed brooms to sweep the floors and you helped Jaerin organize the tables, front desk, and books.

Taejun continued to organize the books that were left on the desks as Jaerin went to the back to get some new books out.

“I can’t believe the royals are actually coming here..” You said.

“Same here. When I first heard about it I didn’t believe it until my parents told me it was true.” The boy said, “The princes rarely go to the village library since they always use the royal library in the castle.”

You finished sweeping the floors and the dust that was once on the wood floors was now gone and the desks were clean with no clutter on them.

“I wonder why they are coming here..”

Taejun was about to respond when the doors of the library suddenly opened. You both turned around and saw two males standing in front of you.

The taller one was wearing a purple and silver coat over a white button up shirt and the other one was wearing a red and gold coat over a black button up shirt.

A gold pin could be seen on the right side of the coats. The pin of the royals. The princes had finally arrived in the village.

You and Taejun then bowed and greeted the princes.

Taejun smiled, “Good day your highnesses. I hope the travel wasn’t hectic.” One of the princes grinned, “Good day to you too. The travel was just fine.”

You looked at the prince and it was the one and only Prince Park Seonghwa.

The other was Prince Kang Yeosang, as he wears red and gold.

Yeosang stared at the two of you, his gaze piercing through you both like a knife, “I’m looking for Qian Chengren.” The name was unfamiliar to you and Taejun and you just blankly stared at them.

“U-Uhm, could you repeat that your highness?” You asked politely.

Yeosang repeated it, “Qian Chengren.”

You looked at Taejun and he shrugged, which was unusual as he knew everyone in the village.

“I’m sorry uhm-“ You tried explaining but Jaerin came out of the back room.

She set down the new books on a desk and bowed, “Hello your highnesses.”

“Good day Madam. We’re looking for Qian Chengren.” Seonghwa explained, “Do you know who that is?”

Jaerin smiled, “That would be me, your highness. But I am known to others as Jeon Jaerin. I apologize for the confusion.”

“No need to apologize.” Yeosang said with a smile as he bowed, “It’s a pleasure to meet you again.”

Her once confident mask was then gone, she was confused and nervous again.

You walked to her and placed a hand on her shoulder.

“A-Again? D-Did we meet earlier?” She asked.

The prince nodded, “When we were younger. We were also with Prince Hwanwoong of Ravaia.”

Taejun spoke up, “Wait wait wait, so you met Rin when you were younger. And now you’re talking to her after a lot of years?” “Precisely.” He responded.

“Then why is Prince Seonghwa here?” You questioned.

The older prince sighed, “I only came to pick up a book. The Stories of the Constellations?” Jaerin smiled, “We just got some of those today. I shall go get you one.”

She turned around to go back to the storage room when Seonghwa spoke.

“Thank you Jaerin. Yeosang go with her.”

“Yes hyung.” The boy obediently said and went to follow your friend.

The two left you all in the room as they went to grab the book Prince Seonghwa ordered.

Complete silence filled the room. Taejun went to sit on one of the dark and old tables and you just fidgeted with your sleeve.

“So what are your names?”   Both your heads turned towards the prince and you just looked down and away from his gaze.   “I’m Moon Taejun. My parents run the clothing and tailoring shop.” Your friend said and then he pointed towards you, “That’s [L/n] [Y/n]. Her family runs the flower shop. Sorry about her.. She can be an awkward chicken at times.”

“Hey! That’s mean!” You exclaimed with a pout as you looked at Taejun.

The prince chuckled, “You two remind me of Prince Mingi and Prince Wooyoung.” A screech was then heard and then a body was on the ground.

“And you say I’m the awkward chicken.” You shook your head at Taejun, who was on the ground, frozen.

“sHUSH tHE friCK fRACkY uP yOU bURNT aVOCAdO!” Taejun stuttered out.

“How am I a burnt avocado now-”

You all stopped when you heard laughter coming from the entrance of the storage room. There stood Jaerin and the prince, laughing and smiling together. Prince Seonghwa stared in awe at the two and a smile appeared on his face too.

“I can’t believe it.. Yeosang is genuinely smiling.” He said, “He must’ve taken a liking towards you Miss. Qian.”

You also stared at the two, watching as they looked at all of you. Jaerin gazed towards you and then to Taejun and then to the prince.

“I suppose I do.” Yeosang told him and he held up a book, “Here’s your book hyung.”

He walked up to his brother and handed him the book.

It was a book with a dark blue leather covering. There was a bronze moon with stars of the same color surrounding it. Brown leather covered the spine of the book.

“Thank you, Yeosang.”

Seonghwa started flipping through the pages with a smile on his face before closing it.

“Is there anything else you need, your highness?” Jaerin asked.

He shook his head, “There is nothing else. Thank you for the book.” “Of course.” Seonghwa patted his brother’s shoulder and smiled at all of you, waving with his other hand.

“I suppose it’s our time to go. We’ll meet again soon.” He said.

Yeosang nodded in agreement, “We shall. Good day to you all.” You and Taejun stood next to Jaerin and bowed to the two princes.

“Good day to you both as well, Prince Seonghwa and Prince Yeosang.” You replied.

The two turned to walk out of the library when Seonghwa paused and turned towards you.

“Just Seonghwa is fine, [Y/n].” He then winked and walked out of the library alongside his brother.

You stood there in shock and you were frozen in place as Taejun started screeching.

“THE PRINCE STRAIGHT UP TOLD YOU TO DROP HONORIFICS WOMAN!”

“THIS IS A LIBRARY TAEJUN SHUT UP!” Jaerin shouted at him.

The two quarrelled and still all you could think about was what the eldest prince had just told you.

[igottoomuchwriting]

Secret Agent Jack “Oblivious” Kelly

“What’s with that smile, Crutchie?” Jack asked as he walked into their shared apartment. Crutchie was sitting on the couch with his leg rested on the coffee table. He had been smiling brightly at his phone when Jack walking in, but didn’t even bother to look up from his phone.

“Oh, just my boyfriend,” he responded. Jack snapped his head up from his shoe laces and turned his head to look at his best friend.

“Yer what now?” Crutchie looked up from his phone with a confused look.

“My boyfriend?”

“Since when have ya had a boyfriend?” Crutchie just stared blankly at him before turning back to his phone.

“A while.”

“Okay,” Jack sighed. “Who is yer boyfriend?”

“Someone of the male species.” He obviously wasn’t going to give this information up, and Jack was actually shocked. His best friend had a boyfriend, didn’t tell him when he got one, and now won’t tell him who it is?

“Do I know them?”

“Oh, most definitely,” Crutchie laughed. “For a while, actually.”

“Then who is it, Crutch?” Crutchie said nothing. He stood up from the couhc and grabbed his crutch before turning and shooting Jack a smile.

“You’ll see.”

---

“‘You’ll see’?!” Jack almost screeched. David flinched at the noise, resisting the urge to kick Jack out of his apartment. “Who the hell just says ‘you’ll see’ and walks away?”

“Apparently Crutchie does,” David stated. Jack groaned and flopped down on the couch, throwing his head in David’s lap and covering his eyes with his forearm.

“How could he do this to his best friend?” David hummed.

Unknown to Jack, David knew who Crutchie was dating. In fact, everyone in their group did. Though, when Crutchie told the group chat, Jack had just turned off his phone to get on a flight, and by the time he turned it back on, the conversation had passed.

Jack was the type of person who would ignore past messages in a group chat if it’s not urgent, and no one had told him it was urgent. This resulted in everyone in the group knowing who Crutchie’s boyfriend was, and Crutchie had texting them in a secret group chat (that they deleted immediately after due to guilt) to not tell Jack.

With how much Crutchie was considered a ray of sunshine, he was a real asshole when he wanted to be

“I’ve got it!” Jack exclaimed. David jumped as his boyfriend flew from his lap, cursing in his head. If he continued with this, David was tempted to just break up with him.

“What?” David sighed.

“I’ll spy on ‘im! He can’t hide it too much, right?” David stared at his over-excited boyfriend with a look of disbelief.

“You cannot spy on Crutchie, Jack.”

“An’ why not?”

“That’s a breach of his privacy!” he clipped. “Not to mention, he may lose trust in you.” Jack glared at David, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I already lost my trust for him, so I believe this is only fair.” David stared at him in shock. His boyfriend, whose spirit animal is an over excited cat, thought that spying on his best friend was they way to find out who Crutchie was dating.

“In what world is disrespecting someone’s privacy fair?”

“My world, Davey,” Jack smiled. He leaned over and gave David a peck on the lips before leaping off the couch.

“I gotta go. Love ya!” With that, he was gone.

David took a deep breath and placed his head in his hands, letting out a deep sign.

This was going to be a while.

---

One thing Jack hated about Crutchie--probably the only thing-- was that he got up early in the morning. Very early. It’s part of the reason his nickname was “ray of sunshine”. Sometimes he made breakfast for the two of them, which Jack loved, but the only downside was that he didn’t know how to be quiet.

Jack groaned as he heard a pan drop into the sink with a loud crash. He may have gone to sleep at two in the morning, but that didn’t bother Crutchie at all.

Jack grudgingly sat up in his bed, though he kept his blanket cocoon wrapped around himself as he grabbed his phone and moved out of his bedroom.

He found Crutchie humming in the kitchen, cutting up broccoli as eggs fried in the frying pan behind him. There were two coffee cups set on the counter right next to some plates that Crutchie had already laid out.

Jack walked into the kitchen and grabbed the mug closest to him, making his way to the coffee maker. Crutchie turned around and gave him a smile.

“Good morning, grumpy pants,” he hummed. Jack glared at him as the coffee brewed, not answering the blonde boy. Crutchie laughed and shook his head. He stepped over to the stove, barely using the counter as support, sprinkling broccoli into the omlette as well shredded cheese. “Breakfast should be ready soon, so go and brood in the dining room until it’s done.” Jack nodded his head and quickly grabbed his freshly poured cup of coffee and the sweetner he needed before sitting down, tiredly staring at his phone.

It was nice to just sit in quiet with Crutchie, where neither of them felt the need to talk. It had taken years for them to get to that point of their friendship, but it was worth waiting for that to happen.

“Oh!” Crutchie yelled over the noise of the frying pan cooling down in the sink. “I forgot to tell you that I’m going out to coffee in a bit.” Jack shot him a confused look.

“With who?”

“Why does it matter?” he mocked. Jack got up from where he was sitting and walked over to Crutchie.

“Cause I gotta make sure that my best friend isn’ goin’ ta go out and get himself kidnapped.” Crutchie rolled his eyes at Jack’s antics. He has always been protective of Crutchie since they have met in high school, always checking in on him when he went on dates or when he was somewhere new that may not be 100% accessible to him. Jack walked out of the kitchen, omelettes in hand, and Crutchie followed in suite.

“I’ll be fine Jack. I know they aren’t going to kidnap me, they would have nothing to gain from it.”

“Kidnapping a cute blonde? I beg to differ.” Crutchie shot him a knowing look and Jack shut up.

“I’ll be fine Jack.”

Soon after Crutchie left, Jack franticly texted Race.

To raceSLUT: hey do u work today

From raceSLUT: yeah y?

To raceSLUT: crutch is goin to a coffee date and i wanna see who he is with

Race didn’t respond right away. He assumed he had either been at work already, getting ready for work, or distracted by Spot. He is rarely away from his phone.

From raceSLUT: jack r u askin me to spy on ur roommate???

To raceSLUT: yes

From raceSLUT: how much

To raceSLUT: are u askin for $$??

From raceSLUT: staring at ur roommate will take time outta my work day

To raceSLUT: u wont be workin anyway

From raceSLUT: “if your good at something never do it for free”

To raceSLUT: i will give u $10 if you never quote joker again

From raceSLUT: deal

Jack sighed and rubbed his face. Race was a douchebag sometimes, but he honestly was a good guy. Even if he drove Jack up the wall sometimes.

His phone buzzed unexpedicately.

From raceSLUT: i will revoke that 10$ if u txt spot rn that he is a short bitch

To raceSLUT: what? What r u 2 doing??????

From raceSLUT: dont question just do it

Not wanting to be out ten dollars, Jack opened up the text messages between his brother and him.

To lil’ bitch: just a daily reminder that ur a lil fucking bitch - ur loving brother

From lil’ bitch: Did race put you up to this

To lil’ bitch: whether he did or not doesnt mask the truth spottie

---

It turns out Crutchie had gone to get coffee with David. When Race told him that, Jack became a little bit pouty. He knew his boyfriend and his best friend were good friends and hung out with just the two of them from time to time, but everytime they did, Jack always got a little jealous. Not in a toxic way, no. He even talked to a counselor about it to make sure that he didn’t become so jealous that he was being controlling and toxic.

Everyone knew he loved both of them, and even though he got jealous, it was not just because David was hanging out with other people, but that the ‘other people’ were his best friend.

And he wanted to hang out with his best friend. But he also wanted to hang out with his boyfriend.

“Jack, this is why Crutchie and I never tell you we are going to hang out,” David sighed. Jack had went over the David’s house after Racetrack told him that he was the one Crutchie went out with coffee with. When he showed up, David had been laying down on the couch, reading, and Jack just walked over and laid down on top of him, burying his face in David’s neck.

“Let me brood in piece, Davey,” Jack mumbled.

“Jack, you’re laying on my book. I would let you brood in piece if you hadn’t interrupted my peace.” Jack lifted his head and smiled widely at David.

“I’m way more peaceful.” Before David could reply, Jack leaned forward and placed a kiss on his lips. David sighed into the kiss, wrapping his arms around Jack’s lower back.

A few moments later, they pulled apart.

“Seriously, you should move a bit so I can get my book. I don’t want to bend the pages.” Jack groaned and lifted his upper body off of David. He quickly grabbed the book and Jack laid back down as David checked the pages, marking his spot in the book.

“So,” David began, “how did you know that Crutchie and I met up together?” Jack hummed and placed a kiss on his neck.

“I had Race tell me who he went to the coffee shop with.” David groaned and smacked the back of Jack’s head. Jack lifted his head up and glared at David. “Hey! Why’d ya do that?”

“You dragged Race into your creepy spying?”

“It’s not creepy!”

“That’s exactly what this is, Jack.”

“Well, he still won’t tell me who he is dating, so I took matters into my own hands.” David threw his head back in annoyance.

“Won’t he be mad when he figures out?”

“Nah,” Jack hummed. “He threatened ta do the same thing when you and I got together.”

“You didn’t tell him we got together?” Jack awkwardly laughed and pushed himself up on his arms.

“Yeah, I uh, was nervous because you was the first boy that I have been with?” David just stared at him. He opened his mouth to respond, but closed his eyes, changing his mind.

“We can talk about that another time. But I still stand by that you should not be stalking your best friend.”

“It’s gon’ happen, Dave.” This conversation was getting nowhere. David loves his boyfriend very much, but he knew when he had to end a conversation before it became a fight.

David put his hand on the back of Jack’s head and pulled him back into the hug, humming.

“Alright. But can you please stop getting jealous when Crutchie and I hang out?”

“...that I can work on.”

---

It was rare that Jack’s whole friend group had a chance to get together. Everyone was pursuing different majors and had different levels of homework and tests that they had to do. They finally had a Saturday where everyone was free. What do the do with that free day?

Drink to forget in Jack and Crutchie’s apartment, obviously.

“Jack,” David groaned. Jack laughed and took another shot, Racetrack cheering him on. “Jack, you have work tomorrow. You are going to be hung over.”

“Oh, quit grippin’,” he mumbled. “I ain’t even tha’ drunk yet.”

“Yet-”

“He’s fine, Mouth,” Spot laughed. “Let the man be stupid, he’s a dumb shit.”

“I side with Davey,” Crutchie spoke up. He was sitting with Finch on the couch, legs thrown over the boy so that there was more room on the floor for people to sit. For some reason, most of their friends perfer sitting on the ground.

“You should take some shots, Dave!” Racetrack hollored. Jack cheered along Blink and Mush, trying to peer pressure his boyfriend. David rolled his eyes.

“I’m these guys’ ride, I can’t drink anything.”

“Leave ‘im alone, guys,” Finch laughed. Jack turned towards him and watched Crutchie shake his head at them and hide his head in Finch’s shoulder. Jack smiled at that. When he first met Crutchie, he was very against touch. It was mainly his leg, but he wasn’t very keen on people touching him in general, so to avoid this, he wouldn’t touch anyone else either. Now, he was loved leaning into all his friends, giving hugs, everything that he could at every chance that he got.

“Jack?” Crutchie broke him out of his drunken thoughts.

“Yeah?”

“Can you go get me my phone? I forgot it in my room.”

“Why can’t ya get it?” He gave Jack a look as if he was the stupidest man in the world.

“I just got comphy.” Jack groaned but got up anyway.

It wasn’t hard for him to find Crutchie’s phone. He always kept it on his charger when he left his room.

Just as he took Crutchie’s phone off the charger it clicked in his mind that he could find who his boyfriend is. Crutchie didn’t keep a lock on his phone because he never felt a need to hide anything from anyone.

Quickly, Jack opened up his messages, just so he could find out who this mystery boy is, once and for all.

For being best friends with Crutchie for years, Jack realized that he had never actually looked at Crutchie’s phone. Maybe to play a game when he needed something to do with his hands while he watched TV, but that was about it. He never realized that Crutchie didn’t have names under his phone.

They were all fucking emojis.

There was a car emoji, some buildings and a sky line, pink hearts, red hearts, green hearts. He had so many messages too, so Jack couldn’t even narrow down who would be the boyfriend.

“Jack!” he heard Finch yell. “What’s takin’ so long? I’m gettin’ antsy!”

“It ain’t even yer phone, Finch!” Jack hollored back. He scrolled through all the texts with hearts in the name. One had pink hearts, one had red hearts, one had green hearts and a bird…

I wonder what mine is? His drunken mind decided to chime in. Giving up on his mission, Jack quickly whipped his phone out and texted Crutchie a meme that he has been waiting to show the boy, and waited for the text to appear on his screen.

When it did, Jack quickly clicked on the message and looked at the top of the screen. The only emoji there was an angry emoji with a cowboy hat on top of his head. He was mad but also… a little touched?

“Jack, did you pass out?” David called. Jack cursed and closed out of the message app, quickly rushing out of the room.

“Sorry, got distracted,” he hummed, tossing the phone to Crutchie. Finch caught it for him, as his hand was in Finch’s hair, lazily playing with his brown locks.

“It’s been five minutes but yer already behind, cowboy!” Race tossed him an unopened beer bottle, and the rest of the night was history.

---

Jack was losing his mind. It has been weeks of him spying on Crutchie, trying to find out who his boyfriend was, and he wasn’t anywhere closer to finding out. David had guessed that Crutchie knew what Jack was doing and was trying to hide anything that pointed to his boyfriend, but Jack shut that down. He knew that he had been sneaky enough where even if Crutchie had his suspicions, he wouldn’t be able to plant anything on Jack.

He was reaching the end of his line. He was so close to just beggin on his knees for Crutchie to tell him who his boyfriend is. He just wants to know who it is so that he can make sure that they don’t hurt Crutchie, and if he does, he knows who to hurt.

“You good, Jack?” Crutchie asked. Jack was lying face down on the couch and only gave a groan in response. Crutchie raised an eyebrow at his best friend.

With a sigh, he walked over to Jack and sat down on his legs, as Jack had left no room on the couch for him to sit.

“What’s bothering ya?” Jack turned his head so that he could see Crutchie out of the corner of his eye.

“Who’s yer boyfriend?”

“That’s what your upset about?” Jack scowled.

“Well don’ say it like that!”

“Jack, you’ve met him.”

“Well,” Jack sighed. “I still don’t know who it is!” Crutchie laughed and patted his back. Before he could say anything, his voice chimed. Jack recognized it has a bird chirp. It wasn’t long ago that Crutchie had changed his ringtone to that. Jack never really understood why, but he thought that Crutchie was just going through a phase that involved nature.

Crutchie started laughing hysterically and Jack looked back at him in concern.

“Good news, Kelly.” He hopped off Jack’s legs and grabbed his crutch, shooting Jack a smile. “He’s here.”

Jack shot up and stared at him with wide, scared eyes.

“He’s what?!” There was a knock on the door. Jack shot up and watched as Crutchie walked over to the door and open it up.

“Hey babe,” Crutchie warmly greeted.

“Hey.” He recognized that voice. Quickly, Jack marched over and looked over Crutchie’s shoulder to see who the mystery man is, once and for all.

“Finch?!” Finch eyes snapped to Jack’s, wide in surprise and confusion. “You’re Crutchie’s boyfriend?”

“...Yeah?” he asked, looking back at Crutchie, who still had a bright, mocking smile one his face. “I thought everyone knew?”

“Jack here missed the message of us announcing it,” Crutchie explained. He leaned into Finch, who immediatly wrapped his arm around his waist, while turning his body towards Jack. “We’ve been very obvious about it.”

Jack stared at the couple, processing everything he knew. What were the signs? Crutchie had said it was someone he knew. Were there signs that he should have noticed?

“The birds!” he exclaimed. This time, both Crutchie and Finch gave him a confused look.

“What birds?” Crutchie questioned.

“Yer name for him in your phone has a bird emoji, and yer text message ringtone is a finch noise!” Jack threw his arms in the air. “How did I not know?!”

“Jack,” Crutchie hissed, as if he had revealed something secret.

“Aw,” Finch cooed, pulling Crutchie closer against his body. “You has a speical ringtone set for me?” Crutchie mumbled something, but looked off to the side, avoiding eye contact with both boys.

“When did you guys get together?”

“A few months ago,” Crutchie answered, still looking down at the ground.

“Yeah, we texted the group chat about it. I thought you had seen it.” Jack gave him a confused look.

“I don’ remember seeing a text like that?”

“That’s because you didn’t.” Crutchie finally looked back up to his best friend. “You were on a plane back from Santa Fe, so you didn’t get the messages. When you had landed, the conversation was over, and you don’t like looking back through messages. Therefore, you missed the announcment.”

“Wait, so everyone knew?!” Finch and Crutchie both nodded their heads. Jack glared at the couple before grumbling and pulling out his phone. “I’m calling my fuckin’ boyfriend. Bastard held this information from me willingly.”

Finch and Crutchie watched him stalk away while holding the phone up to his ear. They distantly heard him scold David before he disappeared into the bedroom.

The couple looked back at each other for a split second before bursting out laughing.

“I’m glad he finally figured it out,” Finch mumbled, pressing a kiss to Crutchie’s forehead. The smaller boy smiled and nodded his head.

“Yeah. He ain’t the most observant, but I knew he would get it one day.”

“And if he didn’t?” Finch raised his eyebrow. Crutchie smiled and pulled him into the apartment, shutting the door behind him.

“He’d be very confused when I tell him I’m engaged.” Both men smiled wide, happy for a relationship and belief that this is the one.

[vegetalass]

Everything Electric

Inspired by the mess that was the spoilers nsfw discord chat and the conversation abt argent ripping out one of ur eyes… It unlocked the fact that i used to like gore…. SMH

TFW lady argent rips out one of ur eyes and then u go to dr. mortum and say thenks mather for my life

FORGIVE ME if this is shit it wasnt beta read

Villain name: Ophelia

Warning: contains Fallen Hero: Retribution spoilers, and heavy blood and gore!!! RATED R BRO!

FH:R belongs to @fallenhero-rebirth

Lady Argent/gn!Reader/f!Dr. Mortum - 2371 words

i.

Blood.

So much blood is leaking out of your mouth as the pressure on your windpipe keeps increasing.

“Argent…” you gurgle, trying to spit but ending up drooling a messy concoction of blood and spittle all over your villain suit instead.

Her claws are extended, this time longer than you’ve ever seen them, and while one hand presses into your windpipe hard enough to make you dizzy, the other is dangled in front of your nose like a toy in front of a child.

And you are not a child.

“Stop,” you plead, stuttering, even though your throat burns and eyes water in pain. But Lady Argent does not, and looking into her face lets you know that she doesn’t plan to, either. From the empty look in her eyes, you can tell that she’s lost herself in another world — one where the both of you never formed an alliance, and one where you deserve Hell and she’s the chosen one who’s going to give it to you.

Suddenly, though, as you should’ve been expecting this, she screeches something unintelligible and plunges her fingernails deep into your eye socket. Though at first you feel nothing more than an annoying pinching sensation, as the pain begins to register and become too much, you hardly notice as the pressure in your head releases in a pop so intense that the rest of your vision goes dark.

You try to scream, but end up making some kind of choked whine instead, as Argent hasn’t moved a muscle since and continues her heavy assault on your throat.

“What is it, Ophelia?” she grins, her teeth gleaming in the light of the moon, before laughing at her own stupid inside joke. “Is something wrong?”

As her fingers continue to root around inside your head, claws doing irreversible damage to your nerves, you try to use her distracted and giddy state to pull her other hand loose from around your neck. While trying to find enough space between her hands and your throat to breathe, Argent’s body shakes again in her mad state, and you are able to tear yourself away from her grasp in the hopes of collapsing on the floor and somehow getting away.

But it’s too late, as she is not so kind as to spare you, and continues holding onto the warm flesh hidden inside your eye socket. What a pitiful state you must be in, howling and moaning, as she succeeds in coming away victorious, and you are left seeing and tasting red from sudden lack of an eyeball.

Breathe, dry heave, rinse, and repeat. You don’t even register the pain when you press your dirty palms against what’s now a hole in your head and try not to hyperventilate.

You look up at her, missing eye covered, good eye blurry, and see her victory pose, smiling above you and holding the bloodied piece of you-meat like a trophy. Though instantly at your recognition, she throws the slimy meatball over her shoulder and uses her fist to slug you in the jaw.

“You didn’t even need that,” she says while laughing, before gazing into what’s left of your eyes and deciding to walk away.

Blood is still leaking from your mouth… and Argent doesn’t look back as she leaves you to sob on the concrete.

ii.

You look nothing like the weeping animal she left in the alley. And you look nothing like the weeping human she was expecting to see at your next meeting, either. Your face is not sunken in, bruised, or malformed. You’re not in an eyepatch or mask, and your face seems to look almost brand new.

A new face, almost… a new eye.

The realization hits her like a train, and she snarls, upset at the smug smile you pointedly send her way when you realize that she has it all figured out.

A replacement. The beautiful, black aperture Dr. Mortum installed in place of an eye.

And Lady Argent can see every wire, every miniscrew, and every bit of fiberglass that was used to create a weapon more fluid and powerful than any of the tech she’s seen installed in any of the Rangers.

And it makes her mad, fingers flexing and claws cutting into her palms as she makes plans to take a swipe at your face at the next chance she gets just to peel back your skin.

You smile at her, the angry thoughts like water off a duck’s back.

“So, you noticed,” you say, full of pride and a sense of smug satisfaction, “how do I look?”

Argent snarls, though she does pause to admire the lovely handiwork that was done to your face as you wait for a reply.

While your skin might look the same on the surface to any normal passerby, there’s no hiding the internal metal plating that’s been fused to your skull permanently, or the black sclera that whirs softly unlike normal white flesh. One has to wonder what kind of twisted procedure you put yourself through just to get better, because it was only an eye that she managed to take and now you’re practically a cyborg.

But saying you were completely healed would be unfair, as you haven’t fully gotten used to the implant yet. The way that things blur in high definition and in a spectrum brighter than anything you could ever image.

Chrome. Thermal. Electromagnetic. Something you can’t even name.

Like Lady Argent’s eyesight, from what you remember of possessing her, though you can’t see any wires or pipes through walls or anything. But this isn’t so bad, you think, not that you’d ever want lose an eye again. You’re just thankful her claws didn’t manage to clip into your brain.

Before the operation, the Good Doctor did require you to keep your remaining organic eye, and all the leftover tissue that was still in the damaged socket, but as expected, her technology was flawless. You find it’s often quite easy to forget you even have anything fake implanted in your head at all as the gradient technology she installed first was the easiest thing to get used to.

High tech and lightweight Medi-Polymer in place of a real cornea and iris, fitted with a sleepless microcomputer and accurate analytics, all grafted to your optic nerve in a painful surgery that had you out of commision for weeks.

Despite the lasting, striped scars that Dr. Mortum couldn’t be bothered to fix, she did let you choose the flashing colors it displays to the world, even if so far you have left the bandages on in public. It does help hide your face, though, and that’s always a bonus.

So, you’d say it was worth it, despite being forced to tell Ortega when he wouldn’t stop fretting at the sight of your head wrapped in tape and gauze that it was some unexplainable and permanent head trauma. You left the part where Lady Argent mauled you out, as it’s a secret that’s to be left between the two of you (and Dr. Mortum, of course).

It was the one thing you could be sure of, Lady Argent wanting to spare herself from the news by not getting reported by another Ranger.

Though still lost in thought, it’s easy to detect the waves on rage that now pour from Lady Argent’s mind into yours at your silence, as suddenly, she breaks your reminiscing by lunging at you. Her fingers quickly extended into sharp-pointed knives as she reaches for your face, but instead of simply waiting to be scratched, you catch her wrist in your hand easily, and twist her body away from yours to slam it against the waiting brick wall behind the two of you.

It’s like you didn’t even need to see her move.

“What?” you ask, feigning confusion at her shocked face, as she is now on her knees below you with some kind of crooked neck.

You don’t start to choke her. You don’t even mention her eyes. And even if she hates you, you can still read the recognition in her mind of the fact that you didn’t kick her down just to get revenge.

Because for once, she feels helpless and knows that you know it.

“Call me sometime, okay?” you taunt, laughing in her face the way she did at the eyeless and crying you, before leaning down to wipe her bleeding nose with your cape. She knows the gesture is not meant to be kind, and as her mind replays the swift way you were able to knock her off her feet, she is suddenly aware of how much powerful you really have gotten.

All because of an eye. The one that she took.

You straighten up, still looking down at her with your teeth bared in a smile. One eye cruel, and the other a mean, unblinking blue and orange. Both intense and focused.

iii.

You moan in pain as she peels back the bandages, blood vessels in your closed eye socket pounding against the heat of what you can only assume to be your brain overheated with the nasty fever you’ve been sporting since the incident itself. You grit your teeth as the dirty cloth is removed, now damp and warm from sweat, and the fact that you haven’t changed it in a few days. “Now, what did you do this time, Ophelia?” Dr. Mortum’s voice is neutral, though you know from your game of charades that she only starts to wonder aloud when she’s getting really curious and the probability of you actually responding is close to zero.

“Lady Argent,” you mutter, trying to be amused by Mortum’s long ‘ah’ at the confession. You’re not doing a great job at resisting the urge you have to reach up and press your knuckles into your head and relieve some of the pressure.

“I’m flattered that you chose to trust me, though it’s not recommended for any clients of mine,” Mortum continues, having wandered off after taking one good look at your ruined eye socket and deciding to search for one of her many stored medical kits, “but your assistant, I presume, is so sweet.”

You know who she’s referring to, but you’re just glad that everything worked out.

It took all of your remaining energy just to enter your puppet’s head one last time to give her a call. Begging her to come pick up your aching body and drive you away in the back of her car to replace the half of your face that Lady Argent destroyed, as this was something you couldn’t do yourself.

It took a couple days for her to find you, but she did, and it was a relief to see her, even if you were neither in your puppet or pretending. It’s funny how things work out.

All those self-stitched scars. For nothing.

“I assume we’re going with a full replacement?” she voices, having returned and seated herself at your side to begin the cleaning, soaking and opening process.

You cannot help the eager nod that escapes you, even though the saline solution Dr. Mortum starts applying to your face has you leaking red tears instantly.

“It will take a few weeks, and then more to recover…” she hesitates, exhaling, and you can tell she’s scanning you for any signs of danger, “but you can stay here.”

You know what she’s thinking, that even in your weak state you could be a danger to her practice. But from the way you look in the image of you in her head, you can tell there’s not much danger to even be had. You look so frail, sick, and destroyed. Not the mention, from the way she glances up and down your form, it’s almost as if you weren’t someone she was expecting to be the Ophelia.

But you are never what people expect.

And with that, she decides that due to your sickly state, you are not a liability. You are not about to jump up and destroy her or her lab. If you tried, you know it would be quite easy to stun you into submission and take out your remaining eye as punishment, too. She doesn’t have to think it to know it.

Because she pulled a gun on you once before.

But her thoughts have changed directions, almost easily, naturally, and you can tell now that what she’s thinking is kind. Suddenly, her thoughts of you are as an ally. No, a friend, and for all intents and purposes, you are dying of a high fever she know that in the hands of anyone else, could leave you as a pitiful, sightless corpse.

But Dr. Mortum isn’t cruel. She never has been, and you are glad when she responds to you in kind at the thought of the mutual understanding and benefits you could share if she does decide to help you. You do your best to push the thought her way instead of speaking.

She smiles finally, then, at least you hope that’s what she’s doing, and runs her cool knuckles across your bloody and sweat-stained forehead in a form of soothing reassurance that makes you feel like a child.

And you are not a child.

Though, you are glad that you’ve always been quite generous to her, and that it’s easy to look human in your sticky, skin tight pajamas.

Not there’s much you could really say if (or rather, when) she were to find out the truth, because existing can’t get much worse than this.

And if you were that someone else, anyone else, you’d love to respond to her contact. Her sweetness. Her power.

But you’re not, and it’s always been your puppet who she’s preferred, anyways.

But right now, you let yourself be sick. You let her touch you and welcome you into her waiting arms. Because she might not welcome you again.

“You’re lucky I’m a doctor, Mon Cherie,” she whispers finally, voice kind, body warm. And as you sink yourself into her and try to smile with closed eyes, you hope that it doesn’t look like an ugly, toothy grimace.

Because you know you are really, very lucky.

[mentalcurls]

4.4 Halloween

So in celebration of the one year anniversary of this clip, I’m finally posting the translated version of the post I made about it last year, half reaction, half analysis, half squeeing. Enjoy!

I’m rewatching last night’s clip and analyzing it a bit, under the cut cause it’s gonna be long:

the conversation between the girls is perfectly on topic for Halloween

Nico’s annoyance is obviously not really directed to the kind of disgusting anecdote, but it always rubs me a bit wrong to hear a guy tell a girl off because she’s discussing something “taboo” instead of more acceptable themes like clothes/makeup etc.

“No, Nico?” a desperate, heroic effort on Maddalena’s part to try and involve the boys in the conversation, she’s forced to do so much emotional labour for them

Emma actually showing some genuine interest = female solidarity, probably acting on some subconscious level

Nico’s “Vero, vero” is so fake, I’m dying laughing

"Eddai, levati la maschera, non si capisce niente" (C’mon, take your mask off, nobody understands a thing [you say]) G U Y S! Emma is involuntarily telling Marti to put his card on the table, to speak clearly and to stop hiding behind her, cause “nobody understands a thing”: she doesn’t understand what he’s trying to do with their “relationship”, Nico doesn’t understand his awkward and confusing signals, Marti himself doesn’t understand much, both in general and about himself

first thing Marti does after pulling off the mask is showing interest towards Nico, asking about his age and implicitly about why she’s at uni and he’s in high school if they’re the same age

"Nico, cosa ci eravamo detti?" (Nico, what did we say?) 100% tired mom trying to reason with her 5-year-old kid + "Se smettessi di rompermi i coglioni almeno per una sera?" (What if you stop busting my balls at least for one night?) typical angry 15-year-old teen answer = big fight

contrary to what Nico told Marti, we’ve bypassed the “siblings” stage here and upgraded straight to a caregiver - care receiver relationship (I’ll admit this observation is heavily influenced by the spoilers about Nico and Mad’s relationship)

and here, again, how much emotional labour Nico requires of Maddalena

Nico says “almeno per una sera” (at least for one night) so this is a recurrent fight: Nico, are you really sure the reason you and Maddalena haven’t fucked in months is that you are basically  siblings and not the fact you can barely stand each other?

it suddenly got chilly, no, Marti and Emma?

Emma going to the restroom with Maddalena is top female solidarity

I mean, if a friend of mine had a boyfriend who treated her the same way Nico treats Mad in this instance, I’d be the first to hit him with a studded clutch filled with rocks

I’d like to take a minute at this moment to point out how gorgeous Martina Gatti is and how amazing her Wednesday look is, we’ve been #blessed

it’s a pity we don’t see Eva and Sana at the party, I wanted to see their costumes and some interactions...I miss the girls

I wonder who wrote Marti, Eva or Sana

what’s this nonsense with the glasses? What’s the metaphor you’re trying to establish Nico?

Marti is pretty unimpressed with Nico’s powerful means of transport, at least a moped honey, not to mention the fact you technically could easily have your driving license

Marty feels guilty leaving the girls, though, alone AND WITH THE BILL LEFT TO PAY AND HE’S RIGHT FOR PETE’S SAKE Nico mortacci tua

the paving stones look like ocean’s waves: ah, the delightful Italian streets

so much illegality for a single bike: the front light is off and the rear light is covered by Martino’s sheet

Marti openshis arms wide on the bike and they immediately pitch like a ship in the middle of a storm

Martino, A ZOZZONE, you can’t just throw plastic things on the ground like that, especially not when you have a view like St.Peter’s at night behind you: it’s not only littering, but also national landmark defacing, you should be ashamed of yourself

aside from it all, though, Nico and Marti both completely changed expressions and attitude compered to the bar 

Martino, if I were you and I were with Dracula who’s taking me to a deserted place I would worry just a tiny bit 

M: “What an engineer!” N: "Shit it got stuck", “Shit it got stuck again” what an engineer indeed

"Where are you? I’m shitting myself” yay for bravery Marti 

Niccolò resorting to kindergarten idiot pranks just to be able to touch (see also the concept  Barbara Kruger perfectly expressed: You construct intricate rituals which allow you to touch of the skin of other men) 

Niccolò is amping up the bad boy facade, with the failing a year thing first, then running from the bar and leaving the girls there without warning, then illegally entering in the pool building and leading Marti to believe it’s something he does often, lastly acting all cocksure, banging on the tanks and pipes and yelling after the custodian

only, there’s always an element that is out of place: the fake-happy tioast at the bar,  the bike, the chain getting stuck when he tries to open the rolling shutter, “Renato” who’s not deaf -mute, his confession he’s not been at the pool in 10 years (And I doubt he got in illegally when he was 9)

the moment of silence when Marti and Nico stare at each other without speaking before Nico tells him “Spogliati” with that tone, a little breathless… and of course Marti doesn’t really get why Nico’s telling him that 

IL CIUFFETTO (first of all who calls it ciuffetto, and then I reiterate: Barbara Krueger, see above)

in the minute he spent underwater Nico finished formulating his evil plan®️

the way they tease and bully and egg each other on makes me melt

Nico tickling Marti is such an iconic scene (see Barbara Kruger for this too)

Marti taking Nico’s hand to stop him

Martino sees Niccolò’s face coming closer to his e doesn’t move, but after Nico kisses him Marti immediately moves away

in this moment you know Niccolò Fares has his guts twisted as hell because he kiss him and Marti moved away ffffuck, at least Marti’s smiling and isn’t mad, c’mon, make it into a joke, turn the tables and fit it into the context of your game 

AND THEN WHAT DOES THE ABSOLUTE ICON KNOWN AS MY SON MARTINO RAMETTA DO? He plays the game nonchalantly, asks for a rematch, acts like nothing happened and puts the no touching rule into place 

he doesn’t want to be touched oh shit shit shit Niccolò you’re a complete idiot as usually, keep smiling so you don’t - 

and in the meantime Marti is looking straight into his eyes, with a glint halfway between challenge and determination, then they’re underwater and HE’S GETTING CLOSER, collision in three-two-one, be still my beating heart MARTINO RAMETTA IS KISSING ME and then Nico grabs him and holds him tight until he’s out of breath

they resurface, a glance just to check the other wasn’t joking, but there’s fire and hunger in his eyes, and they immediately meet each other halfway again

Marti blindly trying for the pool ladder to stay afloat, his knees are just like freshly made polenta, like hell he can swim right now, but in the meantime he keeps smiling, smiling -

“Che cazzo state a fa’? Venite qua! A zozzi!” iconic

and here’s where Nico gives himself away, conscious Marti will curse him to hell and back because he has to run barefoot and soaking wet through half of Rome, in  november, with their super powerful means of transport, but knowing also he now has very convincing ways to shut him up

I WANT FIC FOR FUCK’S SAKE, I want the breathless run to the bike with Marti risking getting lost in the maze of the tanks and Nico having to drag him by the hand, I want the wild bike ride without shoes on, I want Marti and Nico stopping somewhere to wring water out of their clothes and there’s a conveniently place tree/lamppost one of them pushes the other against and they start making out again, I want them outside Nico’s place “saying goodbye” without being able to actually part, I want Marti’s huge smile that actually gives him cramps in his cheeks bjbgkukbkjbfds PLEASE

[antisocial-mochi]

Fake Love Mv Analysis + Theory

HOLY SHIT I CAN’T EVEN! There’s so much to cover. I’m going to do things a bit out of order, but if you’ve watched the mv, you’ll know what order everything’s in originally. This is going to be a bit long, so please bare with me.

First off, when they’re all standing in the line formation, it’s very reminiscent of  an unraveling DNA strand. 

It’s almost like after Jin closed the curtain, it was like he closed himself off from everyone and everything. 

Then Jin’s huddled around the smeraldo flower shown in the beginning. Like he’s trying to preserve what’s left of himself. However, once it’s gone, it’s like Jin had nothing left to lose, therefore he disappeared. 

 Or the flower could be a metaphor for the secret of him hitting Jungkook and putting him in the hospital. It’s almost like his ‘fear’ is lack of control in situations. 

It’s almost like Jungkook observing Jin from a crack in the door.. (It’s seems he’s observing all the guys in some way, shape or form. I’ll list them as we go along.)

Then he’s running, trying to catch up with him. at one point, he’s running through the hallway that was used in both Awake and BST Japanese ver. and the floor is falling out behind him. It’s almost as if everything is disappearing because Jin’s gone and now Jungkook in the process of leaving.

(Which both of them have used the same room or a very similar room in recent times. Jin’s room is very similar the Jungkook’s room in Begin. Then at the end of this mv, as seen in the one teaser, the room with the hooded figure and coat racks is almost identical to Jin’s room; after it was destroyed.)

Then we see Taehyung with a phone that disintegrates to ash. It’s not real. Plus, all on the walls, there’s phones everywhere that later turn on. It’s like saying that even though you get all this love and attention, it doesn’t mean anything if it doesn’t come from yourself first. (Plus we have Save me/I’m fine written behind him.)

Towards the end of the mv, Taehyung is seen walking away from the hallway plastered with phones and looking up at “Save me” on the wall.

 Could that be him realizing he doesn’t need the love, nor the opinions of others? Is he beginning to see that he doesn’t have to stay in the box he’s been put into for so long because of who he is? Does he realize the only person that can truly keep you stigmatized, is yourself. Then in turn, he’s leaving it behind(?) 

Maybe he’s ‘fear’ was himself because, he killed his father in I Need U. Then when Namjoon didn’t come to his aid, maybe he felt like his actions weren’t as justified as he first thought. Therefore, he began to question his values/morals as a person; was he a good person? 

There’s also the possibility that the reason the phone is the center of Taehyung’s fear or darkness is because, he felt betrayed by Namjoon. If you remember they have a whole history behind them. They get in trouble together, promise to always have each other’s back, etc. Then when Taehyung needs him most and tries to call him, Namjoon doesn’t answer. Now whether the betrayal is intentional or not, is another ball of wax. At that point, it depends on what theory thread you want to follow. Namjoon could represent Taehyung’s ‘fake love.’ An unreliable friend, who knows things about you, things most others don’t.

(We also have this shot of Jungkook standing directly above Taehyung’s room.)

We also have Hoseok, who when he was first shown in the mv, he was surrounded by carnival rides/props. Not to mention, the merry go round. (Which is where his mother abandoned him as a child.)Then he’s laying in a huge pile of Snickers. His ‘fear’ is being abandoned, and his ‘fake love’ was his mother. 

It’s almost as if he’s being consumed by his truth/darkness. That or he’s acknowledging it, finally.

(Here’s Jungkook’s way of observing Hobi. Which feels very familiar to the clip of Jungkook looking into the keyhole in teaser 1.)

We have Namjoon kind of at odds with his reflection. It also seems like Namjoon’s ‘room’ is like a giant shipping container. Which, that would sort of make sense because, Namjoon’s been either in, on, or near shipping containers. Like in clips from the Run mv and the Epilogue mv.

Someone on Twitter pointed out that the handgrips behind Namjoon reminded them of the grips in buses. Much like the the bus he was on in the LY:Her highlight reels. The same bus he bumped into his girl on. Maybe because he wanted to impress her, he put on this other persona, or mask. But because he kept that mask on for so long, he began to lose or forget who he truly is and what he’s done.

Hence making his love for not only himself, but others around him, fake. Maybe his ‘fear’ is having to let go of that other persona, in order to find himself again. Or his ‘fear’ IS in fact re-finding himself, but not being happy with what he has to look at in the mirror everyday.

(And here’s Jungkook’s outlet to observe Joon.)

Now we have Yoongi. First we see him in a decrepit room, sitting in front of a brown piano. Notice the guitar beside him. Could that be the one his girl had in the LY:Her Highlight Reels? (He also throws it. )

Once Jungkook gets to the end of the hallway, it’s a dead end. However, there’s a boarded up opening in the wall. When he looks in, there’s Yoongi  all alone, sitting in a chair, staring at the boarded up fireplace. 

Then we see a flash of fire outside the room. Almost as if it were like a passing thought in his mind. Fire seems to represent Yoongi’s darkness/truth. So, it’s like he started thinking about it and the more he thought, the more aware he became. 

then he smiled, as if he were content with realizing/ acknowledging his truth.

Someone mentioned to go back into the HYYH notes and read Yoongi’s. There’s we’re told that Yoongi’s mother dies in a fire. So maybe the room he was in, was her room at one point.

Even though Yoongi was shown so much love by his girl in the reels, maybe he still felt like it wasn’t as real as his mom’s. Maybe he felt like her love was the only true love there was. What if he felt like his girl was going to try and use him. 

Maybe his ‘fear’ is being used/being depended on.

Maybe that’s why he pushes Jungkook away and even fights him. he afraid of having people need him.

In his most recent notes, they talk about him having a flashback to when he watched his house being burned to the ground. When he was asked if there was anyone else in the house, he said no. 

Maybe his mom was sick and depended on him, way more then was should be expected of from a child. Maybe he was tired of it and wanted to be free. However, then as he’s gone through life, he’s carried this guilt with him. That could explain why he attempted suicide, by setting his room ablaze. 

He wanted to go out the saem way this all started. Maybe he was hoping the fire would engulf him in the room, since it didn’t work the first time.

Moving onto Jimin. As talked about in past posts, Jimin is associated with water, much like Yoongi is with fire. 

We see he’s in the room, alone (yet again, keeping up that trend of him always being alone.) and looking around, obviously unhappy. At one point, we see him turn off the faucet of the sink behind him. Almost like he’s  had enough and stops the endless circle that is his lie, dead in its tracks. Or that could be Jimin bottling up his feelings,  (Hence with the water bursts from the walls.) 

Then, after the few scenes with Jungkook, (Which I’ll get to in a moment.) we’re shown the drains on the wall behind Jimin start to overflow and burst. Literally like the flood gates open and either side of him. Is that an indication of Jimin acknowledging the darkest parts of himself? (This is also at the same time Yoongi’s room goes up in flames.)

(There’s also a flash worth of a scene where Jimin has in hand covering his mouth. If you go back in my posts and read “Analysis of Lie Mv,” I talk about my theory as to why he does that. )

Jimin’s ‘fear’ is either death, or being left behind. We’ve seen throughout the storyline that Jimin seems to be ill. I’m thinking it’s most mental than physical, but I could be wrong.

He always seems to like living in the moment, rather than worry about the future.He doesn’t want thing to change because, if things change he could be written out of the equation.

Jimin seems to have the closest relationship with Hoseok, yet he’s replaced multiple times. First it was with the girl from the highlight reels. Then it was Taehyung in Euphoria.

It seems as though Jimin depends on Hoseok a lot throughout the universe. Hoseok keeps him grounded, keeps him from doing something stupid. The problem is, Hoseok doesn’t really know Jimin’s relying on him so much. So, while he’s looking out for others and running to other people’s aid, he’s unknowingly leaving Jimin out in the cold.

(I also want to point out that this is/could be Jungkook observing Jimin from above,not Jin like I initially said.)

Now for the scenes where Jungkook is looking at the waterfalls, it’s a little interesting. We see the wall of waterfall(s). We also see a pile of dust/ash/sand on the ground, along with the glass container that once held the Smeraldo flower. 

When Jungkook kneels down to pick up some of the ash/dust/sand and as it’s falling back down to the ground, we see the shadow of flower petals flying away. As we know, Jin’s always linked with flowers, more specifically lilies. However, the petals in the case aren’t lily petals, but still the point still stands. Then it pans out, and there’s petals floating through the air. 

Some have said that the flower could represent time. So,when we see the sand that means time’s caught up with Jin and the truth’s out. 

My question is, is Jin gone? Did he complete what he set out to do, or did something happen; like a sort of loophole that made his time run out? Because it doesn’t seem like he’s ready to leave, or ready to have things come crashing own around him. Hence why he tries to protect the flower.  

When Jin loses the Smeraldo and all that’s left is a pile of ash and the empty container, that could support the theory of him being gone. Or, maybe his spirit per say is moved to that all black room from Euphoria, where there was only a bed and the curtains. 

Maybe that’s like a limbo type of place he’s moved to, in order to save him from completely vanishing. Then maybe from there that’s when he tries to go back in time and fix things. (As discussed in a past post.)

Taehyung’s also been associated with the Smeraldo flower. In Singularity, he’s seen holding the flower in front of his mouth. Again, the truth that was untold. So, when the flower turned to sand, maybe Jin’s truth wasn’t the only truth finally brought to light. 

Somebody said when Taehyung was looking at the phone, it looked like he was looking and the Smeraldo flower.(I don’t know if I agree with that. It’s very hard to tell by the slight reflection in his eyes.)

Also doesn’t the first picture with the shadow of the petals feel familiar? This is a shot of what looks to be Jin’s shadow, releasing flower petals into the air.

[educxtional]

I was really struggling this week. Working way too hard, skipping breaks and meals, not staying hydrated, not showering, not taking my meds. it was bad. even at the busiest times, self-care is so so important. if I needed help, then I'm probably not the only one. all of these lil ideas are small and relatively easy and I highly doing something nice for yourself, even if it’s not on the list. hope you all have a wonderful day/week/year. 

(my personal favourites in bold)

drink some cold water

wash your hands and face with cool water

make some tea

get a blanket and snuggle it around you

snuggle an animal/stuffed animal

buy your favorite candy from the gas station

close your eyes and listen to your fav song on repeat for 10 mins

put on some throwback jams (high school musical, mamma mia, 90s, u do u) and dance around ur room in ur undies 

make a calming playlist

call a friend/relative just to say hi and hear someone else’s voice

rewatch cute/funny/happy clips from ur fav tv show/band/movie on youtube

put on a skirt and twirl (yes boys/agenders/trans u can do this too)

scribble really hard with black pen on a blank page and scream

look at the sky/moon/sunset/sunrise/stars

write

watch kitten/puppy/small animal live streams on youtube

go outside, even if its just by ur front door, and take some deep breaths

eat something - fruit, veggies are best

change ur contacts/clean ur glasses if you wear those

change your underwear

if u can't get urself to shower, wash off w a damp washcloth/baby wipe

put on a cute/comfy outfit that makes you feel good about urself

dont put eye makeup on so you can rub your eyes & they wont feel heavy

stretch, do some yoga or meditate

get a breathing/meditation app and use it (headspace is gr8)

take a nap

go to bed before 11 pm

brush your teeth

turn off bright harsh lights and use smaller, warmer lamps

unplug. give your eyes/brain a break from screens for a half hour

get one of those pet/family apps/games and care for someone else for a change

find cool people on tumblr and send them anonymous compliments (that you actually think are true - spread love)

find a quote, write it/print it nicely and stick it on ur wall

watch a new movie

boil some cinnamon sticks/vanilla bean for 5 mins so ur house smells pretty. if in ur room, use essential oil drops or candles

make your bed

vacuum 

wipe down ur desk w some disinfectant

clean something - a backpack, small area, fluff ur pillow, put away one shirt

do your makeup all pretty and nice just because/dress up just because

research into your dream job/vacation/city/whatever

open up pages/canva/photshop/etc and make something just for fun

build a fort and crawl under it

find an easy diy and do it/ be proud of ur creative genius

make a list of things that make you happy. stick it somewhere you’ll see it all the time

print a picture of someone/thing that’s pissing u off and throw things at it (tape it to a dart board if u have one)

reread a book that makes you happy

clip your nails, clean the dirt from under them

send some good old fashioned snail mail to someone u like just for fun

take some selfies if you’re feelin it (see #40)

fuzzy socks. enough said. 

make yourself a fancy meal/cocktail/coffee/tea latte/drink/whatevs

open ur window or put on a fan/air purifier. get some air circulating

draw, even if u think u suck. 

reach out to kids help phone (canada) or a suicide hotline if you need to talk to someone about more serious matters. you deserve help and care and support. (message me if you need resources)

donate to a local animal shelter (if u have the means obviously)

go for a walk/run/bike ride

put on a face mask

take a bubble path

shave ur legs and moisturize

moisturize 

bake some cookies

go on spotify/youtube and find some new music you love

make a really fun upbeat playlist for next time u get the aux cord

scroll through some wholesome or funny meme accounts. whatever you’re in the mood for. 

take some cool pictures of whatever you want

change up your room in any small ( or big) way that you can

teach urself a new skill on youtube (simple like a hair style, or complicated like an instrument, whatever u want)

sign up to volunteer at a library/homeless shelter/soup kitchen/retirement home/daycare center/etc. help those who need it. be giving. 

put on sad music and cry. let ur mascara run. be dramatic. let it out.

put rock music on and stomp and scream throw (soft) things. let it out. 

teach urself the words to a fast rap song thats cool right now so you can impress ur friends/classmates/family

print off some kid colouring pages and dont stay inside the lines

brush your hair, take it out of a ponytail if its been like that for a while, or put it up if its down and in ur way

diy a hair mask (coconut oil) and do that

exfoliate ur whole body and feel like a whole new person

clear out ur phone/laptop. delete old messages, numbers of people u dont like/hang out with, get rid of photos of shitty friends, apps u dont use, etc

find cards against humanity online (or if u have it use the cards) and play with urself - make funny matches just because

empty a drawer (or multiple) and fold ur stuff neatly

do something that will make u sweat (gym, dance, clean) then take a nice shower

take a second to listen to ur body. unclench muscles that are clenched, fix ur poster, massage/stretch tight areas

move to a different area of the house for a little while. clear ur head. 

go out, anywhere. window shop, go to a coffee shop/library and work. people watch if ur broke. 

update your planner

make Pinterest board/real life vision of things that make you happy for when in this situation again

find a youtuber you like and watch their videos

lie on the floor, listen to music and do nothing for a while

give yourself a pep talk in the mirror and then stand like superman for a few mins. sounds silly but it works. its called powerposing. look it up. 

repeating this bc important: hydrate!!!

start a new tv show

order something online so u have something to look forward to

go sit with a family member and keep them company. u dont have to talk to them. 

the app ‘trump dump’ will make u feel better about the current us political situation

read happy news: find stories of students doing something cool, women kicking ass, men being amazing, whatever. bonus points if this inspires u

sort your garbage from recycling and help the environment

smile at people you see just because. smiling is good and nice. 

look at old pictures of u and ur fav people

go through old yearbooks and take a second to appreciate how far you’ve come

go to a park and watch kids play. remember what it’s like to be young. realize you are still young. go on the swings and go as high as u can

play in a sandbox just because u still can

xo soph

[marmolita]

belonging, ch1 (kink week day 1)

Heeeeeeey there!  So I wanted to write a chaptered fic for @ffxv-kink-week​ but then I ran out of time, but then, I wanted to do it anyway, so I started writing a sequel to my other D/s-verse fic heart and soul.  If you haven’t read that one, all you need to know for this is that it’s D/s-verse, Noct is a dom, and Iggy and Gladio are his collared subs.  Once I get a bit farther along I’ll start posting to AO3, but for now, here it is on tumblr!  For the kink week day 1 prompt of authority kinks.

Title: belonging  Pairings: Noctis/Prompto, Noctis/Ignis/Gladio, eventual OT4  Rating: Explicit  Words: ~2300 Warnings: none, at least none in this chapter

Teaser: Prompto taps his phone, rewinding the clip to the beginning to play again. Bless IBC for always putting news clips online right away, because after watching the live feed of the Kingsglaive swearing-in ceremony Prompto immediately wanted to watch it again.  And again.  And again, and okay, maybe he's got one hand in his pants while he's watching it but Noct looks so good all dressed up.

"It'll be the exhibition match on Thursday afternoon, then the swearing-in ceremony Friday evening, then the banquet right after," Ignis says, thumbing through email on his phone as he pulls on his clothes. "Gladio, I assume you'll have His Highness in top form for the exhibition?"

"'Course I will. He's been training with the Glaives for the last couple weeks, right Noct?" Gladio prods Noctis with the ball of his foot, and Noctis swats him away.

Laying back on the pillows, Noctis says, "As long as I don't have to go against Nyx I'll be fine. That guy could kick Gladio's ass."

"Yes, well. I'm sure he'd let you win for show anyway," Ignis replies as he buttons up his shirt.

"I don't want to win for show -- that wouldn't help with the whole filling-in-for-my-dad in the ceremony. People already think I'm too young, or too weak, or too . . . whatever."

Ignis sits on the bed next to him, setting a hand on Noct's knee through the blanket. "Don't worry about what they think. You're going to do just fine."

"You think so?"

Ignis leans in and kisses him, soft and light. "I know so."

*

The exhibition is in the courtyard, with bleachers erected on both sides. Gladio eyes the crowd briefly, then turns to survey the arena. "Don't forget the Glaives can warp just as well as you can," he murmurs in Noct's ear. "You can't just warp out of the way and think you'll be able to hang out and catch your breath."

"Right," Noctis says, and Gladio can read his nerves in his tone of voice.

"You're fast, and you're flexible. The magic is yours, it's not borrowed. If you want to swap weapons you can probably do it faster than they can. Don't forget to watch your back, and watch your left side -- they probably know you're a little weaker there."

"Got it." Noctis is clenching and unclenching his hands, like he's ready to pull his blade from the ether, but his eyes are still darting around the crowd. Gladio steps in front of him to block his view, forcing Noctis to look up at him.

"You got this," he says. "Even if you lose, you're gonna put up a good fight and show 'em what you can do."

Noctis takes a deep breath, holds it, then lets it out. "Thanks," he says, and Gladio claps him on the shoulder.

In the middle of the arena, Drautos raises his arm and the crowd falls quiet. "Ladies, Gentlemen . . . new recruits," he says expansively, "thank you all for coming. Today we'll see a demonstration of the power of the Crystal, and the power of the Kingsglaive. His Royal Highness Prince Noctis will battle one of our fiercest warriors." Noctis takes another breath, and Gladio can see his public mask settle into place. He walks out into the arena, smiling and waving.

"Now," Drautos says, "let us see who his opponent shall be."

An assistant brings out a bowl full of scraps of paper and holds it out to Noctis, who reaches in and selects one. Noctis looks at the paper for a moment, his face carefully blank, then announces, "Nyx Ulric." Shit.

The audience bursts into applause and Nyx takes the field, grinning. Drautos backs away to the sidelines, and Noctis summons his Engine Blade in a shower of sparks. Nyx makes the first move, throwing his short blade and warping straight for Noctis. Noctis phases through the attack, then swings hard, nearly connecting before Nyx warps away again.

To a layman, what follows is just a blur of blue sparks and phase shadows, clashing blades and flying kicks. To Gladio, it's Noctis putting in his best effort and having it be just enough to keep him on his feet, barely dodging each of Nyx's attacks. Their weapons clash together a few times, but the fight is mostly a series of fast warps as the two of them flicker from one end of the arena to the other.

Noctis throws his sword up so it rams into a high post, warping to hang from it briefly, then as Nyx starts to follow him, Noctis yanks the sword from the post, lets it dissolve back into the ether, and pulls out a javelin instead. He throws, warps, executes a mid-air backflip, and dives down toward Nyx with the javelin in his hand. For a moment, Gladio's breath catches as he thinks Noctis might just pull this off.

But then, Nyx throws up a crystalline shield, and Noct's attack is blocked entirely. Before his feet hit the ground, Nyx drops the shield and swings, his blade slicing into Noct's arm.

"First blood to Ulric!" Drautos calls. Both men drop their weapons and step back, breathing hard. Gladio's heart is in his throat, waiting to see how Noctis will take his loss. But Noctis ignores the blood running down his arm and turns to Nyx with a smile. Nyx executes a perfect bow, and when he rises, Noctis extends a hand to him, which Nyx clasps firmly.

"Lucis is honored by your skill," Noctis says, loud enough to carry to the crowd. "May all the new recruits grow as strong as you."

"The honor is mine, Your Highness," Nyx replies, appropriately deferential like he never is in training.

Drautos reminds everyone of the ceremony to be held the next day, and the crowd begins to file out as a page brings a potion to heal Noct's arm. By the time Gladio gets to his side, any sign of the injury is gone.

Noctis keeps his polite smile on until they're alone in the locker room, then sinks onto the bench with a groan. "Damn it," he says, slamming his fist into his thigh, "why did it have to be Nyx?"

"Hey, that aerial attack with the javelin was quick thinking," Gladio says, tossing Noctis a towel. "You did good."

"I got my ass handed to me," Noctis grouses.

"But you did it well. Iggy's gonna be proud of you for how you handled that."

"I'm supposed to swear in the new recruits tomorrow but all they're gonna be thinking is, 'Why should we swear our allegiance to this kid?' Ugh. Remind me why Dad can't do this again?"

Gladio sighs. "His Majesty is tied up with the ambassador from Accordo. You know that."

"Ugh," Noctis says again, slamming the door to the shower stall on his way in.

*

Noctis is still fuming when he flops into his bed after dinner. Ignis and Gladio have gone home, since Noctis is too tired and cranky to be good company despite Ignis's best efforts. Spending the night alone isn't unusual -- Gladio only stays over rarely, and Ignis often prefers an earlier bedtime and can't sleep with Noctis still awake. Some day, Noctis will get a place with enough bedrooms for all of them to be comfortable, but in the meantime this works well enough.

He rolls onto his back and flings an arm over his eyes. His mind keeps replaying the fight, searching for everywhere he could have done something differently. Of course now that it's over he can easily see a hundred opportunities he missed, but it's too late now.

His phone chimes and he groans and wrestles it out of the pocket of his jeans.

Hey buddy, the text from Prompto says, saw a clip of your fight w glaive, those moves were awesome!

Noctis's face does something between a smile and a grimace. Nyx kicked my ass, he types back.

[Prompto] u kidding bro he's like the biggest war hero and ur 18 of course he did [Prompto] u looked awesome tho, flipping around and stuff [Prompto] flexible ~.~

He laughs at that, imagining the way Prompto is probably wiggling his eyebrows, and types back, lol u make it sound way sexier than it was.

The return message comes right away: ur always sexy. Noctis can't help the little thrill that runs through him; Prompto has been dropping hints that he's interested for a while now, but he always backtracks before making anything clear, leaving Noctis to wonder whether he ever really meant it at all. Speaking of which . . .

[Prompto] I mean [Prompto] the whole royal authority thing, bet it really works for you w Iggy and Gladio

Noctis types out does it work for you? but then hesitates over the send button and ends up erasing it.

[Noctis] guess so [Noctis] sometimes I just want to be me

He sighs, thinking of the royal duties waiting for him in the morning.

[Noctis] gotta do the swearing in ceremony tomorrow bc dad is busy [Noctis] rather be playing kings knight w you

[Prompto] the night is young, and your phone is already in your hand

Noctis grins and opens the app.

*

The ceremony is held in the throne room, with the recruits lined up in formation and Noctis standing in front of the throne. He holds himself tall, and nobody would know that only minutes before Ignis was adjusting the drape of his cape and fixing his tie and cufflinks while Noctis frantically repeated his speech over and over.

"On behalf of my father, the king, I welcome you all to the Kingsglaive. Today you join the ranks of Lucis's most elite warriors, and begin your service to the people and the Crown." Noctis's voice is strong, and Ignis sees a hint of his father in the tilt of his chin. He hesitates for a barely detectable moment, then says, "Are you ready to pledge your loyalty?"

As one, the recruits fall to their knees and bow their heads, a hush falling over the room as Noctis descends the stairs. He approaches the first recruit and lays his hand on the back of her head. "I give myself in service to the Crown and the Crystal," she says, "and pledge to use the power granted to me to protect the people of Lucis."

"Do you give your life to the Crown?" Noctis asks. Normally, with Regis performing the ceremony, the line would be, do you give your life to me? but Noctis had felt it would be disingenuous, and Ignis finds he rather agrees.

"I do."

His hand slides around the side of her head and cups her chin, lifting her face. "Then rise, and join the ranks of the Kingsglaive." The recruit stands, and Ignis can see the shine in her eyes as she rises. Noctis smiles at her before moving on to the next recruit. The ceremony is repeated for the whole group, Noctis receiving one oath after another, until they're all standing.

As the audience bursts into applause, Noctis ascends the stairs again. When he reaches the throne, he materializes his sword and swings it high above his head, then spins it in a flashy circle and slams the point down into the floor in front of him, in the crack left there by this very same ceremony in the past. "The Crystal welcomes you, as do the people of Lucis," he says strongly, and the newly minted Glaives cross their fists over their chests and bow.

The applause is thunderous, and when it finally starts to die down, Noctis banishes his sword and makes his way down the stairs. Ignis meets him at the bottom as the recruits and the audience begin to file out of the chamber. "Well done, Your Highness," he says.

"You think so? My sword has nothing on Dad's armiger."

"You saw the look in the recruits' eyes. They were proud to be swearing their loyalty to you."

"To my dad," Noctis corrects.

"It may have been him in intent, but it was you in practice. I remember swearing my own oath of loyalty to you, you know."

Noctis laughs. "You mean when we were kids?"

"We may have been children, but I've always taken it seriously."

Looking at him with a small smile playing at his lips, Noctis says, "Me too."

"Well then," Ignis says, "I believe the banquet is ready to begin."

*

Prompto taps his phone, rewinding the clip to the beginning to play again. Bless IBC for always putting news clips online right away, because after watching the live feed of the glaive swearing-in ceremony Prompto immediately wanted to watch it again.

And again.

And again, and okay, maybe he's got one hand in his pants while he's watching it but Noct looks so good all dressed up. Even the ridiculous cape lends him an air of authority.

Are you ready to pledge your loyalty? Noct asks in the video, and Prompto's hand tightens on his cock. There was a time when he hesitated to jerk off to photos and videos of his friend, but these days he's accepted the fact that his feelings aren't going away any time soon and he can still be a good friend to Noct despite wanting to suck down his dick until he chokes.

Do you give your life to the Crown? Noct asks, and Prompto breathes, "I do," as he jerks himself faster. The clip is almost to the end, and he bites his lip as Noct ascends the stairs, then gasps, "fuck, fuck, fuck," when Noct materializes a sword and swings it around his head. He comes as the sword slams into the ground, the camera catching the steely glint in Noct's blue eyes, the hard set of his mouth, the perfect fall of hair over his forehead. He looks like a king, and Prompto would gladly lay down his life for him.

As the clip finishes, he pushes weakly at his pants, shoving them down to keep them out of the mess. He doesn't feel guilty for jerking off to Noct, but sometimes he feels guilty for how much he likes it when Noct acts like the royalty he is, because he's still got the texts on his phone saying sometimes I just want to be me.

[queenangst]

Lifeline

Time loop AU. When Keith wakes up after crashing his ship to stop Naxzela from exploding, he thinks it's a dream. And then it happens again.

Some days he dies like this, closing his eyes to a light that burns him to the core. Other days, Keith dies with a knife between his ribs, or in the hull of a ship, or with the others as Naxzela renders the sky to pieces. Over and over and over. Again and again.

read on ao3 / ffnet / a lil thank u to @kcgane for making these tracks because. they’re good.

chapter one

Keith’s eyes shoot open.

He can feel his heart hammering in his chest, going so fast that it feels like his chest might split open.

His hands are clenched into fists at his side, not meant to throw a punch, but instead mimicking his grip on the controls of a Galra ship. There’s sweat on his forehead, and his shirt is clinging to his skin.

“A dream,” Keith says, sitting up and drawing his knees up to his chest. “A nightmare.”

It has to be. Has to be.

Because the last thing he remembers… the last thing he remembers—

A clipped wing. The distant voices of his teammates through the comms. Matt and Lance and Hunk and—Shiro’s voice, of course, sounding strained, and…

…he leans forward as the ship picks up speed. There’s no time to think, but Keith has never bothered much with thinking, anyway.

This is the only option. The rebel ships can do nothing. Voltron is too far. Keith is the only one who can make a difference; if he doesn’t act, then everything he’s been fighting for will fall.

The ship shudders a little, but Keith pushes it, faster, further, gunning for the barrier.

Keith squeezes his eyes shut and counts down from ten. There’s a blanket over his legs and a knife under his pillow and this, this is real, and dying is not.

His breathing evens out after a bit. There’s things to live for, after all.

Keith strips his shirt off, making a face at the resistance it gives. It doesn’t take long for him to get dressed in the thin black suit and then the armor that follows.

There’s the echoing of footsteps from down the hall. It sounds awfully familiar, but Keith ignores it in favor of studying himself in the mirror on the wall.

A moment later, Kolivan is standing at the door.

“Keith.”

He fits on the last of his armor but keeps his hood down. There’s no need for it.

“You need me?”

Kolivan inclines his head. “I am about to speak to Team Voltron. I think you should join me.”

Keith nods. “Got it.”

They make their way to the bridge. It’s not unlike the Castle’s, but it is smaller, with only standing positions at the controls. Keith crosses to the front, and Kolivan pulls up the comms channel.

They patch through to Voltron.

Compared to the Blade’s ship, the Castle is brighter, and past them, Keith catches a glimpse of orange sky. Shiro and Allura, as expected, as standing in the front. Between them is a map of the system, one that Keith has long since had memorized.

“Entire Galra fleets have been mobilized,” Kolivan says. “Zarkon seems to be out looking for Lotor.”

Keith grits his teeth at the mention of Lotor, but he keeps quiet.

“It’s only a matter of time before he gets the Empire back in order,” Shiro says. His face is grim and determined. Keith likes the look; it means he has a plan. “We need to take advantage of this moment.”

Allura’s mouth is set in a frown.

“What are you getting at, Shiro?”

A dream—memory—flashes through Keith’s mind.

“The coalition,” he says without thinking. “Naxzela.”

Shiro meets his gaze, approving. “Keith’s right. We need to assemble the coalition we’ve been building. With intelligence gathered by the Blades-” Here, Shiro inclines his head toward Kolivan in a show of thanks. “-and coalition observers, combined with the power of Pidge’s Galra tracking software, we’ve put together a detailed map of the Galra Empire.”

It spins into view, purple and blue planets dancing in the air.

Keith bites the inside of his cheek. He’s been here before, has seen this map before. It’s like there’s something he’s missing, a piece of a puzzle dangling just out of reach. Like he knows a passcode but not the last number, but he needs to unlock this—whatever it is.

Shiro’s gone through the first part of the plan already, but it doesn’t matter. Keith has a feeling he already knows it.

Dream, dream, he chants in his mind. Dream, dream, dream. Not real.

“If this works… the Voltron Coalition will have taken back a third of the Galra Empire’s territory. It would be a huge victory.”

“And inspire a new wave of rebellions.”

Shiro crosses his arms. “There’s no time to waste.”

The fight would be crucial—a critical blow against Zarkon. Keith scours his mind, trying to see if he can fit enough pieces together to find an outcome.

There’s nothing. Cold settles in his stomach. Nothing after that burning light brighter than the sun and quiet and jolting awake in his quarters, sweat on his skin and a scream on his tongue. He doesn’t know if it will work or not, but… he does know he could trust Shiro.

That has to be enough.

On the other end of the channel, Shiro turns to face the team.

“Suit up,” he orders.

Kolivan turns and begins barking orders of his own. Anju’s already set course for their coordinates. Keith spots Inek weaving through the Blades, her shorter stature and barbed tail making her easy to identify.

Keith already knows his role.         He’ll be with Kolivan and a few others to infiltrate the cannon. He’s needed there.

“Are you prepared?”

Keith blinks. Kolivan looms over him, a figure intimidating to most.

“You seem distracted,” Kolivan offers when Keith doesn’t respond. “The mission we are about to undertake is an important one. You need to focus.”

This—this conversation he doesn’t remember. Keith sucks in a long breath and tries to clear his mind.

It doesn’t matter if he’s done this before or if he’s dreamed the way the day would go or, hell, if he’s woken up in a different reality. In every situation, he needs to be on top of his game.

Focus, Keith thinks. Patience yields focus.

It’s enough. Keith nods. “Don’t worry about me. I’ve got this.”

“Worry,” Kolivan says, like he doesn’t know the word. He’s already turned away. “Keep the comms channel open.”

On Voltron’s side, the others are getting ready. Shiro is ready in less than a minute; when he catches Keith looking, the corners of his lips lift up. He lifts his hand like he wants to touch Keith’s shoulder but settles with a wave.

Keith swallows and waves back. He can’t get the sound of Shiro’s voice in his mind, can’t escape the feeling that they’re walking into a trap.

He opens his mouth to say something and then shuts it again. He can’t run on feelings alone, not right now, and—well, Shiro might not listen to him, anyway.

Behind him, Lance and Allura are talking quietly together. There’s a smile on Lance’s face that Keith hasn’t seen in a while. He glances over, and his grin grows wider before he turns back to Allura.

Pidge, Matt, and Hunk are gathered around a laptop. Probably discussing the Galra-tracking tech. As he watches, Shiro crosses over, putting a hand on Hunk’s shoulder casually as he leans in and speaks to them. Pidge adjusts her glasses and nods, and Shiro uses his other hand to ruffle her hair.

Keith is suddenly hit with a pang of loneliness.

The scene is a familiar one. He’s seen it before, has lived it before. Keith glances down at his Blade suit, and his mouth turns sour with the memory that he no longer belongs there, with them.

“It’s time to gather the coalition,” Shiro says, straightening and crossing back to the map. “We need our friends and allies from across the universe now more than ever. With their help, we finally have a chance to turn the tides of this war.”

This is it, Keith thinks.

“We’ve been waiting for this moment, and now we are more prepared than we’ve ever been.”

Allura’s eyes blaze with the light of a thousand suns. “Let’s do this.”

Keith falls in step behind Kolivan as the screen blinks out. It’s replaced with a map, and the Blades begin to speak in low voices together about strategies and their own roles in the upcoming fight.

Keith follows Kolivan and a few other Blades to their mission ship. They’re about three times larger than the pods in the Castle, better suited for missions but still small enough to escape notice if they’re careful.

“The broadcast will be starting soon,” Anju reports, already at the controls. “Setting coordinates now.”

“Power to the thrusters,” someone says.

“Ready to fly.”

“Go,” Kolivan says, and they take off without fanfare. Keith stands shoulder-to-shoulder with another Blade, the two of them gripping a bar as they stand in line. They’ll be dropped not too far from the cannon’s base before they cut through the brush to ambush it.

“Broadcast is live.”

Kolivan nods. “Play it.”

Allura appears on the screen. It strikes Keith then, how much her presence resonates. He feels like she’s in front of him, staring at them. Her eyes are sharp, her chin lifted in pride. Regal, commanding, and the face of a revolution.

“Fellow members of the Voltron Coalition,” she says, and he feels the words in his chest. “If you are hearing me now, it is because you have pledged to stand together with Voltron in the fight against Zarkon and his enslavement of the free peoples of the universe.

“But that enslavement is about to be dealt a crushing blow. The time for a full-scale attack on the Galra Empire is now. Far in the future, when they speak of this day, they will speak of our sacrifice, but they will also remember this as the day that freedom began to overtake tyranny.

“You all have your missions.”

Keith lets his mask cover his face.

“We’re approaching,” Inek says.

“You know what to do.” Allura’s gaze bores into him. “Good luck. We’ll see you on the other side.”

The other side, Keith mouths to himself, pouring over the words, but then the doors open. Wind ripples into the ship, buffeting at their suits.

One by one, they drop into the open sky. Far below them, grasses and trees wave like they’re waiting for him.

The Blade next to him leaps. Keith blinks, and then there’s only four Blades left on the ship—Anju and Inek to pilot, Kolivan, and him. He can feel Kolivan’s gaze on him even through the mask.

Then he lets go of the bar and falls.

It’s kind of exhilarating, the fall. There’s a split second where he feels weightless, the blood in his veins singing. And then Keith curls in on himself, the ground racing up towards him.

He rolls when he hits the ground, carrying his momentum into a run. Shadowy figures dart through the trees, one moment there, the next gone. This is the way of the Blade—never seen, never heard, deadly and efficient in their every move.

The cannon is perched on the edge of a cliff. From far away, Keith spots guard after guard standing in protection.

The comms crackle.

“Blades!” Captain Olia cries. “We’re in trouble! What’s the status of your cannon? Blades!”

Keith darts through the trees, lungs burning.

“Copy, Olia,” he says, voice muffled by the mask. “We’re en route. Hold on for just a little longer.”

Up ahead, the Blades are breaking through the trees. Keith leaps over a gnarled root and finds himself out in the open again, the cannon looming over their heads.

It’s massive, as big as one of the Blade’s main ships, and Keith knows from sight that it can take out a fleet in minutes.

They scale the cliff easily. Keith is one of the last to reach it; he grits his teeth and throws himself upward, the claws in his suit extending and gripping onto the cliffside easily.

A rock crumbles under his hand. Keith keeps quiet like he’s been taught and finds another hold, sweat already making itself known on the back of his neck.

There’s a hand in front of his face—Keith looks up and sees one of the Blades waiting.

“Thanks,” he says softly, gripping it. The Blade only nods as he’s pulled up, and then they split up, surrounding the base.

The sentries guarding the base are fast. Keith is faster.

He pulls his knife from its sheath and cuts clean through a sentry before it can react. Keith tosses his knife and then catches it to drive home in the other sentry’s back.

He’s first up the steps leading to the cannon. Footsteps follow his as they keep going.

Short blasts of gunfire ring in the air, and then there’s silence. Keith grins to himself.

Inside, there’s a captain surrounded by guards, his voice bellowing orders. He’s not even done when Keith rams into a guard.

He trusts the others to get the job done and guns for the controls, vaulting over a sentry’s head as a blade takes it out. There’s the sound of falling metal as he reaches the controls, gripping it tight.

Keith drops his mask, mouth curling into a victorious smile. “Now let’s see how this thing works.”

“The Zenfama Saiforge cannon is ours!” Coran announces. “Naxzela attack is underway.”

Keith wastes no time. Kolivan sets in a target, and he lines up his shot, watching numbers and figures dance across the screen. He can’t fully understand Galran yet, but he knows enough.

“Olia, come in,” Kolivan says. There’s no response. “Captain Olia.”

“We can’t take this fire for long!” Olia yells. “Blades, we need your help.”

“We got your back,” Keith reports. He reads as much as he understands, makes the necessary calculations, and then takes a deep breath in through his nose.

“Patience,” he murmurs. “Patience yields focus.”

There’s snatches of panicked conversation over the comms. Now is the time to attack.

“Fire.”

“This one’s for you, Lance,” he mutters, and then he fires.

The beam tears through the sky, bright purple as it rips past clouds and into space like a backwards-comet. Keith’s heart is racing in his chest as he watches it disappear.

“Shields down, Captain!”

“Alright, let’s get control of that cannon!”

“Get ready,” Kolivan warns.

“I am,” Keith says.

“Zaiforge Cannon Base is ours!”

“Ready to provide the Taujeerans with cover,” Keith says, gearing up for his next shot.

“Cannon acquired. Ready to provide backup.”

“Copy that. Coalition, you’re clear to begin.”

He’s not there with the fight, but Keith doesn’t need to be. It’s in him, fire through his veins and water in his lungs.

Aim. Lock. Fire.

Aim. Lock. Fire.

Ships fall under the force of the cannons, torn apart by their strength.

“We’re doing it,” someone reports.

Aim. Lock. Fire.

Aim. Lock. Fire.

“We’ve almost taken the entire area!”

“Communication is back online,” a voice warns. Coran repeats the words a moment later, but it’s Shiro who replies.

“Doesn’t matter. We’ve just about taken Naxzela.”

The planet’s name sends a chill down Keith’s spine. He has a feeling it’s not as easy as it seems to be. There’s something else at play here, and Keith knows it, but he can’t remember what.

“It appears at all of the planets we’ve engaged have been pacified, if not totally liberated.”

“Good,” Kolivan says sharply.

“Wait. There’s another Galra battle cruiser approaching Naxzela.”

He can see it.

He can see it in his mind’s eye, the shape of it, the cannons, every detail down to the shield that surrounds its hull.

Keith’s eyes widen.

The shield.

—heading for the barrier, his ship painted with reddish-purple light that washes over him—

“Sector Zar Niomfor is clear. Let me see if I can get a line on that battle cruiser.”

Keith’s already let go of the controls, turning towards the exit. There’s no time to explain.

“It’s not gonna work,” he says breathlessly, pushing past his fellow Blades. “Matt, it’s not going to—”

Matt cries out over the comms, a noise of surprise that makes Keith stumble.

“Zaiforge cannon Senfama, are you still operational?”

Keith tears out of the base as the entire cannon powers down, the lights going out. An alarm begins to sound.

“Negative.” The word falls from his mouth.

“That incoming battle cruiser must have shut them down remotely!”

And then, after this—

“Shiro,” he calls. “Shiro, do you copy?”

“No artillery support?”

“Yeah,” he says. “But—”

Matt cuts in. “What should we do about that cruiser?”

“The cruiser doesn’t matter. It’s going to be too late. We’ve almost secured Naxzela.”

Keith’s feet have guided him to a Galra ship. He leaps in and takes off without thinking, tearing through the sky. Orders be damned, the Blades be damned—he needs to get to Shiro.

“Shiro,” he gasps. “Listen to me.”

“Is something wrong?”

“Get off Naxzela!”

“We can’t. We just need to take out the last of the heavy artillery, and it’s ours… Keith, where is this coming from?”

“Please, Shiro,” Keith says. “Naxzela’s a trap. You have to get off.”

“Oh, quit being paranoid,” Pidge snaps.

“I’m not—”

He bites his tongue. They’re not listening to him. They’re not listening to him.

Keith pushes the ship harder, burning through the atmosphere as he wheels around to face Naxzela.

Something is about to happen.

He can’t stop it.

The feeling of foreboding grows stronger as the team continues. Pillars, he thinks, or generators, something like that rising up on the planet’s surface.

“I say we get outta here,” Lance says, his voice carrying over the comms. “Pidge, plot a course for our escape.”

“I agree with Lance,” Keith chimes in. “For once. You have to get off Naxzela.”

“Hey, look at that. Keith agrees. Let’s go.”

“Hold on.”

And then there’s a collective cry from the team. Purple light inches across the planet, covering it. No.

He has to take out the cruiser. If he can take it out, none of his dream will play out like he remembers.

Except, a dark part of him whispers, curling at the edge of his mind. Except you will die.

“No, I won’t,” Keith says. “Not this time.”

And he sets course for the cruiser and flies.

“Captain Olia, Matt, Rolo, do you copy?”

“We hear you. What’s up?”

“I need backup,” Keith says. “We have to take out that battle cruiser somehow. It’s messing with Naxzela.”

“Team Voltron, you there?”

“Their comms are down. Keith, what’s your plan?”

“Uh, don’t have one. You think you can get the cannon back online somehow?”

“Probably,” Matt says, and Keith feels hope blossom in his chest. “But it’ll take too long. If I had Pidge here, it’d be faster, but working by myself, I can only get so far.”

“Dammit. Coran!”

“Here, Keith.”

“You think you could give us a hand with this shield?”

“I’m afraid I can’t, Number Four. I’m on the other side of the galaxy, and I don’t have enough of Allura’s energy left to work the teleduv. And—oh, that Galra fleet heading towards Naxzela stopped.”

“Stopped?”

“Quite a distance away, too.”

“Perhaps the Galra decided it’s too well-fortified to attack.”

“No.” The word comes out harsher than he intends. “Victory or death. The Galra accept nothing else. I need your help. The only thing left to do is attack the fleet.”

A beat. Keith held his breath. “We’re with you.”

“Stay where you are, Coran. We might need you there.”

The role of leader—of Black Paladin—comes back to Keith easily. He streaks towards the cruiser, rebel ships falling in formation behind him.

“Ready,” he says in a low voice. “Follow my lead. We’ll need to fire at once—hopefully it’ll be enough to break through.”

“Copy that.”

“All other members of the coalition should get out,” Keith orders. “They’re not safe. Coran, if you can help—”

“I’m on it, Keith.”

“Keith, can you hear me?”

His heart leaps in his throat. “Shiro!”

“We need to stop Haggar.”

“Way ahead of you,” Keith says as they line up together in front of the barrier. “We could really use your help if you can get here. Hey—you guys ready?”

“Just say the word.”

Keith powers up his ship’s blasters as strong as it’ll go. “Fire!”

Ten beams slam into the cruisers’ shield at once, but Keith already knows it’s not enough. “Keep it up!”

Allura’s voice is weaving in and out of his ears, commanding but frantic.

“Keith, it’s not working,” Matt growls.

“I know. I know.” I know.

“We’re not going to make it,” Hunk yells.

Enemy fire clips his ship’s left wing, and he dips.

Keith knows what has to happen next. Knows, because there’s no other option left; knows, because he’s seen this; knows, because the surety of it is rooted in his very bones.

This time, he says, “It’s been an honor flying with you guys.”

“Keith?” The rebel ships disappear out of sight as he dives. “Keith, what the hell are you doing?”

It’s like this again.

Keith feels like he’s trapped in a dream, a bit like he’s floating in between realities.

Red light falls over his ship. Keith leans forward, forcing his ship to go faster, further, gunning for his target. The ship shudders, like it knows, too, and Keith thinks, this is how it ends.

He closes his eyes, and the light swallows him whole.

[zacfaq]

PLEASE DON’T SEND ME “PASS IT ON” MESSAGES !! as sweet as some of they are they can be really annoying. i don’t check my PMs here! if you need to get ahold of me either send me an ask, or email me.

apparently necessary reminder: google exists! i’m not a know-it-all source, honestly i shouldn’t even be your second plan after google unless it’s a question specifically based on me or something relating to me

i try to avoid fandom drama as much as possible and keep a generally positive space, so please don’t come and ask me about stuff like that. thanks. 

if you want to commission me please send an email to zacharyjackbaron@gmail.com. do not email me through this address if your intentions are purely social and not work related

-what do you use to record and edit your speedpaints?

i use OBS to record, and edit in sony vegas

-what do you use to draw?

huion gt-191 and clip studio paint

-what are your pen settings?

just the default settings. all my custom stuff/things i’ve downloaded from CSP assets are just things i think look neat but probably never end up using. 

-a blog called papersans is claiming to be you! are they a thief?

that’s literally me, i use it to archive my art so i can find stuff easier without having to hunt through my tag. also available for people who just want to see my art n not my other posts

-when is your birthday?

february 6th!

-what is your sexuality?

gay. i like men.

-how long does it take you to draw?

idk like. awhile? sometimes 45 minutes sometimes four hours sometimes a week. 

-can i draw you/your ocs?

of course! pls show me after it would make me very happy !!!!! 

-favourite band/singer/musician?

i don’t know a damn thing about myself here’s a spotify playlist

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0Zk5o5g7nMnGt0vrJVEcDq?si=7cd248a0b64046ee

-will you do art for cheap/free?

nah. art is currently the only job/income i have, if ur interested in commissioning me you can either find my prices on like, any of my pages, but if not ur more than welcome to email me @ zacharyjackbaron@gmail.com and i can give you prices there !! -(venting or something involving abuse, suicidal thoughts, self harm, bullying, eating disorders, or other similar things in real life situations. even in fiction i’m iffy.)

i hate to sound rude or not be of help, but please don’t send these messages to me. they send me into horrible anxiety  for several personal reasons. if you’re having such negative thoughts i implore you to speak to someone you trust without an anonymous mask, or do your best to seek help from a professional. i have my own things to worry about and as much as i’d like to help, i simply can’t.

-(asking for advice that isn’t related to art)

i would love to help but i’m not an ~all knowing source~. i can’t give you tips for school. i can’t give you tips for life. not only will i probably not know a solution for you but there’s likely a chance i’m in just as bad a situation as you/going through the same problem, as silent as i am about my personal life. also don’t use ‘asking for advice’ as an excuse to vent about things or to send me a paragraph describing in depth something listed above/that’s potentially triggering. thank you.

even if you’re looking fr art tips i’m not a great source i’m still learning, ur best bet is looking for already existing sources and reading through those bc i don’t preach the word of Art God. i’m also awful at explaining things

-why didn’t you answer my ask?

Main reason is i’m just really really bad at socializing, so it’s not anything on u. i’m almost always low on energy and when i do talk to people it wears me out really quick. i’m also just. not gr8 at talking in general so if i can’t think of a reply i tend to just leave things n then end up forgetting about them

-how do you draw [blank]?

honestly my art style is such a fucked up thing that’s so personalized to my own use i can’t do or make tutorials. the best i can do is direct you to my youtube.

-can we do an art trade?

sorry, i’ll have to say no. i’m not necessarily busy but i get stressed very easily, so i try to keep my art to either personal stuff or work ! if you would like art from me, please considering commissioning me! mutuals and friends may be the exceptions here if they catch me at a good time or we make plans well ahead to do smth when we’re both free to work on stuff

-can we be friends?

please don’t ask this. i’m awful enough at socialization as is and i just don’t fit well with most personality types. not to mention this is just overall a bad question. it backs the person being asked into a corner where they either have to say “yes” and end up in a friendship that actually isn’t working out and is maybe only good for one side bc they’re getting any and all of the benefits, and if they say “no” they look like a total dick bag and come across as an ass. don’t ask this question. it’s not how socializing works. it’s not how friendships work. thanks. -can you tag [blank]? unfortunately i’ve been a real bad place in terms of memory so i can’t tag tons and tons of things. i try and tag more general/basic things but i’m sorry i’ll have to pass on specifics. if i post or reblog things that trigger u or harm you it might be best to unfollow for ur own safety!! very sorry

if it’s specific words you’d like tagged please consider blacklisting the word itself. 

-how tall are you?

i’m 5'11".

-can you promo me?

i’d rather not, doesn’t sit well with me. if you have a commission post you want me to reblog i’m happy to! but i won’t just do text based handouts, y’know? not a fan of being used for visibility for no reason, and chances are if i do it for one person it’ll happen with hundreds of others and i don’t want my blog to turn into a free advertisement zone that just floods peoples’ feeds with promotions.

-you reblogged something from someone extremely problematic/unsafe

thank you for letting me know! tell me what it is they did, even better offer proof on it. i’ll likely delete the post and blacklist their url to hopefully prevent their name popping up on my blog in the future. i won’t publish these asks mostly to avoid discourse or in the event false information is provided. sorta just safety precaution i guess

-you’ve done something bad

again, thank you for letting me know! if i post or say something questionable please feel free to message me and i’ll try my best to address the issue and adjust accordingly. i’m aiming to grow as a person so critique is welcome, both on me and my artwork. don’t just come up and call me an asshole or a prick or something, actually point out the errors and explain why they’re wrong so i can better understand and it doesn’t just turn into a defensive round of who’s worse, because i tend to be a very defensive person.

-i think someone is stealing/reposting your art!

thank you very much for telling me! don’t message them right off the bat, come to me first and i will deal with it. i’ve dealt with this shit tons of times and it’s tiring as fuck but i’d rather repeat the same stupid civil message over and over again than start a giant calamity over something and end up with someone getting hurt. if you do get involved please stay polite about it don’t throw insults just a simple “hey this art was done by princeofmints/tv-headache/zachary jack/dirtypip/(etc my other account names) and he doesn’t want his art reposted, please take this down or add proper credit.”

-can i use your art as an icon?

sure man. only on places like instagram, tumblr, or twitter though, and proper credit in an easy to see place must be given. if a piece of art is of my ocs or especially vent art though never use it for icons. thank you.

-can i repost your art?

the answer is “no” but i know you’re going to do it anyways. easy to see credit is mandatory. if you see somebody reposting my art please let me know and i’ll talk to them. if you want to use my art in things like image edits, i don’t allow that. want to use my art in a video? if it’s something like an AMV sure fine just credit me and inform me beforehand, if it’s something like a cringe/comparison video. no. i don’t want any association with work like that whatsoever. you may not use my artwork for fanfic covers.

-can i colour/finish one of your sketches?

no. even if you don’t intend on posting it. 

-what is [insert some form of media/fandom]

https://www.google.ca/

-why do you have an entirely separate blog for your FAQ? you know you can make blog pages, right?

i’m well aware of that and originally my faq WAS set up on a blog page, but unfortunately many folks proved to be either lazy or just couldn’t figure out how to get to a blog page on mobile so i had to set it up this way for accessibility purposes.

-tons of your videos are gone, what happened to them? will they come back? can you repost them?

i set old videos on private for my own sake, i don’t like having my old content available bc it just looks old and stale and i don’t like it. there’s nothing deep about it, i just don’t want people interacting with my old stuff. as deep is it gets is i just deleted videos related to fandoms i’m sick of bc the association is fuckin annoying. these videos will not come back into public. i do keep them posted for my own reflection sake, but that’s it. don’t ask me to bring them back. don’t whine about me not putting shit back out just bc ur a little sad n gonna cry. guilting people is gross, reevaluate yourself.

if you want a song from an old video, just ask me! I’ll happily let you know what the music is in case u liked ‘em and can’t remember the titles or artists. i’ve also got a playlist full of the music i listen to so u can comb through there n see if the songs u want are there

[atlaswriting]

I want to think of a scenario in which no one looses, an outcome that saves all of our naive hearts from ruin—but there isn’t a world where we survive unscathed. There are always causalities in a war of hearts and the trick is to be the one still beating by the end of it all.

“You and Sophie?”

Instantly, Abram’s cheeks turn red—but he refuses to break eye contact, “Me and Sophie nothing, we’re just friends.”

“Like you and I are just friends?”

“That’s different.”

I’m clutching my pen between tightly wound fingers, knuckles aching, “Is it really, though?”

Mrs. Pierce finally enters the room and I lean back, but Abram refuses to look forward, refuses to take his eyes away from me, “Completely different. And even if it wasn’t, Elise, at least Sophie isn’t afraid of what she wants—she goes after it. She doesn’t try and waste away to nothing just so she doesn’t have to deal with life.” His words are low, vicious and cut through skin. Any sharper and I would be choking back blood.

“Mrs. Pierce,” I raise my hand, “I’m not feeling very well. I’d like to go back to my room now.”

“You haven’t been in class all week Elise, do you think that’s a really good idea?”

“If you’d rather me waste away to nothing on your classroom floor, I’d be more than happy to. Otherwise I’d rather complete whatever assignments in my room.”

She rolls her eyes, releases her short hair from the tight confines of her bun and shakes her head, “Do whatever you want.”

I shove my books into my bag and slide my chair noisily across the floor—I move by Abram, not without bumping him with my hip on the way out.

♡ ♡ ♡

We need to do something about Abram.

Who is this?

Ellie. Can I call you? We need to do something about his situation.

How did you get my phone number? Abram doesn’t even have my phone number.

And what situation are you even talking about?

You do know I’m not his handler, right?

Ask his boyfriend.

It doesn’t matter how I have it. Just that I do.

Wait, why doesn’t Abram have your number? Aren’t you fuck buddies?

That’s crass.

Is it a lie?

I thought not.

So are you going to help me?

Why can’t you ask Brody?

Brody will tell Abram.

So…ask him not to?

Lmfao... Sweetie.

No.

I’m calling you.

( incoming call from ellie. )

♡ ♡ ♡

“You can’t really be that mad?” Jason asks. He’s given up completely on studying and has been nervously eating an entire sleeve of peanut butter cups. “Didn’t you ask Abram to take her out?”

“Yes,” I say, “But that doesn’t mean I wanted him to do it. I thought he would make up some excuse like he has twenty times before.”

Jason scoffs, “He’s probably just you know… pent up and needed to release some aggression.” A large smile spreads across his face at the innuendo and I roll my eyes. Stomach churning at the thought of Abram doing anything with Sophie.

Not because I thought she was disgusting—the exact opposite. Sophie was gorgeous; she had legs for days and was effortlessly pretty. She was smart, in a scary way and was constantly underestimated—it made her resilient, a fighter, and more often than not, a winner.

I wanted to scream at Jason. I wanted to tear away all the pages from the book in my lap, but instead I dug my nails into my thigh, digging in further until the pain in my leg outweighed the pain in my chest and I only stopped when he leaned over and plucked my hand away from my body.

“Jesus Christ, Elise, you’re drawing blood. What is wrong with you?”

“Nothing is wrong with me. Why would you ask that?”

“You haven’t been acting like yourself lately—you haven’t been eating, is that why you were hospitalized? And anytime someone brings up Abram you go nuts.”

“I go nuts?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

I throw the book off my lap and stand up, “Maybe, but it’s what you said.”

Jason’s quick to stand too, walking toward me with outstretched arms. When I don’t move away he wraps them around me, “I’m sorry, that’s not what I meant. You just seem protective over him, that’s all.” His lips press to the crook of my neck and he breathes in deeply, “You care about him a lot?” Jason asks.

He pulls away and it takes everything in me not to cry, so I nod, teeth digging into my cheek. “He’s my best friend, Jason.”

“He’s like a brother to you.”

I don’t know if Jason says that to convince himself or me—but he brings my forehead to his lips and I don’t argue. He doesn’t try to convince me otherwise when I tell him I’m tired and that I’ll see him tomorrow.

When I’m alone, I fall onto my mattress, letting the ragged beat of my heart lull me into a calmer state where the knot in my lungs isn’t quite as big and I can breathe.

A knock at the door stirs me and I’m hoping to find Abram on the other side. I brush back my hair, fix my skirt and try to button up my shirt to maintain some modesty.

“Expecting someone else?” Sophie asks as I open the door.

My shoulders hunch and I use my body to keep her from coming in the room any further, “I’m getting ready for bed, Soph, what do you want?”

She held up three different sized condoms, “Abram and I are going to get coffee and I wanted to know which size is more accurate?”

I clench my jaw, so tight I’m surprised I don’t break teeth. “Abram isn’t like that.”

“We’ll see. I think I’m slowly starting to rip your claws out of him.” She sighs and shoves them back into her pocket, “Remember Elise, you can’t have your cake and throw it up, too.”

♡ ♡ ♡

Cerise has always compared me to dying fruit. When other mothers thought rainbows shined out of their little girls’ asses, Cerise often reminded me that I was pretty on the outside—but when you bit in all you got was a mouthful of rot.

I couldn’t say I blamed her.

The pretty skin and long hair was only a mask and underneath was the true horror. I had spent hours scratching at the surface of my skin, trying to pull the monster out. Under my skin was red and raw and uninviting. Until all the pretty little freckles were dots of blood any tan lines were replaced with welts left by fingernails.

The last thing to go was my hair. I grabbed a pair of sheers from my desk and pulled my hair out of its ponytail.

Ugly little thing, I thought—relief warming my body. I held my hair and watched with jaded eyes as the sheers ripped through the meticulously cared after tresses. Years of expensive, imported shampoo was now sitting in my sink and the weight—literally was lifted.

I don’t stop cutting until my bob, jagged—but not half bad, was below my chin and when I can breathe I drop the scissors.

For a moment I don’t recognize the girl staring back at me—eyes wide and wild, ravenous with a hunger that couldn’t be satisfied with food.

Watch this disappearing act, Houdini.

♡ ♡ ♡

The stares aren’t half as bad as I thought they would be. Some quiet whispers but mostly, two-faced compliments left people’s mouth.

I don’t feel so watched until lunch when we’ve all crowded the cafeteria and I’m sitting alone at a table, staring at the food on my tray—willing myself to eat.

Abram is the first to sit down, staring with his mouth agape.

Jason is next.

And finally Sophie who sits beside Abram. She grins, “Did you mean to cut it all short and choppy like that? I mean, really, Elise, there’s a Great Clips a mile away. Abram and I could’ve brought you last night.”

I glare back at her. Stabbing into my chicken and shoving it in my mouth to keep from snapping at her.

“I like it,” Jason announces. “I think it’s sexy, babe.” He leans over and kisses my cheek. Abram hasn’t said anything and I pull my sweater down to cover any angry skin from last night’s breakdown.

Jason asks Abram a question about hockey and Sophie’s conversation turns to her father—who she said is running for Congress in Georgia. I’m doing my best to nod without listening when my phone buzzes on the table.

Jason’s phone pings next, and then Abram’s—soon the entire cafeteria is filled with different text tones. At different times, thumbs click the recording delivered by text and moaning stuns everyone silent.

“We shouldn’t be doing this.”

A very distinct, very Abram’s voice says and all of our eyes are cast on him.

The moaning that follows makes me wish I had successfully crawled out of my skin the night prior. I would know that second voice anywhere, it’s mine.

I look up at Abram who stares back at me in horror, face red. But when the recording ends, he’s rewarded with a few slaps on the back from guys and girls talking behind their hands, eyeing him like a piece of meat.

“Dude!” Jason shouts, “Who was that? She sounded so familiar.”

Abram and I are still staring at each other and my hand was holding the plastic fork so tight it snapped.