#like Yes it's epic that they're always just all face to face staring at each other engaging in sparking repartee but

[hyp3rf1xat10ns]

My Thoughts That No One Asked For!

Malleus is obviously very strong. We can only assume Malleus is stronger. It was easier to defeat the other Housewardens because to some extent, everyone fighting that Housewarden in on their level. Malleus is one of the top five mages in Twisted Wonderland. Fighting against him is practically impossible unless you call in another top mage. Oh wait! They're asleep like everyone else. So hear me out...What if instead of ending with an epic fight where the Prefect stands off against Malleus....The Prefect breaks the "spell" with a hug. Not a kiss, that's too Otome. A hug. One to let him know it's ok for him to be upset. It's ok for him to mourn what he is loosing and what he doesn't have. Malleus just sobs...into your arms. And giving into the sadness and accepting the reality of the situation is what snaps him out of his overblot state. Just imagine it like this.

"I am always left alone! At the end of the day I am destined to be alone! Everyone will leave me behind! I'll have no one! That is why...I need to keep you all here....happy in your dreams.....just the way you want your life to be."

Malleus' laughter echoed throughout the halls of Diasomnia. The people who were currently awake had a sense of fear embedded in them. He was too powerful to fight. It seemed impossible to take him down. Was this the end? The one overblot you couldn't defeat?... But then...you realized something....you were afraid of him...for the first time since you met him...you were scared....but why?...Yes he's overblotted and caused everyone to sleep for a thousand years and yet....you still can't help but see him as that weird horned boy who showed up at Ramshackle one cold autumn night...the man you dubbed Hornton because he wouldn't tell you his name...the man who gave you the courage to fight against Azul when he practically had Ramshackle in your clutches...the one who sent you the holiday card, the one you took nightly walks with, the one who helped to fix the stage, the one who was worried when you disappeared. There were so many things that Malleus was. You think back to when you told him you might have found a way back home. He looked so hurt you...He looked

Scared...

You had no idea what triggered it. With every ounce of strength left in your body. You approached Malleus, shakily. Staggering with each step. Exhausted and sore from fighting. Silver, Sebek and Idia stared at you like you were insane. Had the prefect ha one too many overblots???

"HUMAN!! WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING???"

"Prefect! Wait!-"

"Th-This is l-like something o-out of some kind of m-manga o-o-or an anime...wh-why are they having a main ch-ch-character moment?"

You finally stopped when you were face to face with Malleus. You looked like a mess and he looked fine.

"Oya? Approaching me head on, Child of Man? Or have you come to accept your fate and give into slumber for-"

Before he can finish, you hug him. It's gentle and soft and just meant to be comforting and kind.

"It's ok Hornton..."

You whisper as you hug him. You brace yourself for him to shove you off with a blast of magic that would kill you...but it never happens...instead the young prince curls into you arms and begins sobbing into your arms...as the blot disappears and everyone awakes. Like some form of fairytale.

[manicpixiedreamcurl]

I Want to Do What Lovers Do With You.◦○˚♡.˚ₓ

Pairing | Eddie Munson x reader

Warnings | 18+ only, P in V sex, unprotected sex, dacryphilia, praise kink, brief mention of uncomfy virginity loss (not to Eddie), brief mention of underage drinking, drug use, Eddie calls himself dumb a couple times, there’s maths talk early on I promise it’s only short.

Request | Concept. Reader has never gone on a date or anything before, they're not naive, they just haven't been interested in anyone. Eddie and reader have been crushing on each other for a while and when eddie half-jokingly asks them out they say yes. Reader being easily overwhelmed by the newfound affection and eddie having to get them used to it.

Word Count | ~4,000

A/N | So here's the thing. In hindsight I realise maybe you wanted virgin reader, and I didn't do that. I also didn't even write a date. However, I think I got the ~spirit~ of the request. I will definitely write virgin reader in the future, but I didn't do it here, sorry if that's what you were looking for. Reader is new to intimacy though, if that helps.

"Zero point seven." Eddie’s head snaps up from the calculator, waiting hopefully for the approving nods he’s been earning from you more and more. 

"Mm-hmm,” you nod, pointing to the page of rough triangles you’d drawn out for him to practice. "Now remember, the cosine of the angle is equal to the adjacent, which we want, over the hypotenuse, which is twenty three, so..."

"I've gotta divide something now."

"Well, how about you write the equation down with what you have?"

"Shit," he sighs, leaning back in his chair. "That's just your nerdy way of telling me I gotta multiply."

You smile in spite of yourself, knowing that Eddie is the only person who has ever called you a nerd without any real malice. There's admiration, appreciation, in his tone somewhere, under the frustration.

"C'mon. Give it a try and then we can take a break, yeah?"

Eddie's face splits in a conspiratorial grin. “What sort of break are we talking here?"

"That depends on whether you answer correctly."

"Man. If only my real teachers knew how to motivate me like you. I'd probably have graduated early."

"Eddie. The cosine of the angle equals?"

"That’s just cruel. I’m trying to concentrate and you know your teacher voice gets me going."

You have to fight a nervous laugh, choosing instead to bite the inside of your lip and gesture to the paper with your head. Eddie sighs and brings his attention to the square lined notebook, twisting the pen round his fingers while he glances between the question and the calculator. You watch him pull his own plump lip between his teeth, hair falling over his shoulders when he leans down to stare at the numbers on the page the way he needs to do sometimes. He looks so sweetly determined your heart aches.

That's unique to him, too.

When you were twelve, you’d read teen romance novels and imagined yourself falling for someone the second you entered high school. Then you got there and boys were…exactly as they always had been. Sometimes friendly, sometimes cruel, but never very interesting. Your heart didn’t flutter, your knees didn’t shake. 

Even when you lost your virginity, fumbling in the dark, head fuzzy with an early taste of alcohol, and it had been an endeavour of pure mediocrity. You expected it to hurt, but you wanted that hurt to feel like passion. Instead, it was an uncomfortable burn that had you gritting your teeth and avoiding wet kisses until he was done. 

Luke Thompson would catch your eye in Physics years later, looking forlorn and longing. 

Then there had been senior prom, something you had dreamt of when you were a pre-teen waiting for epic romance. You thought you probably would go, if you were asked. But when a smooth talking basketball player had sidled up to your locker, talking all kinds of slush about how he’d always thought you would get along but had never had the guts to ask you out, you’d weighed an evening of dancing awkwardly and pulling a strapless chiffon dress up to your armpits every twenty seconds against sitting comfy in your pyjamas and renting a good movie from Family Video. 

You spent prom night gorging on microwave popcorn and falling asleep with Dune playing in the background.

You left for college, away from Hawkins and high school and boys whose parents knew your parents, and it allowed you one night stands without the pressure of seeing them in class every day after. Just the occasional awkward nod across a hallway, if you remembered them at all. Whatever they were, it was not love, or even affection. You were using them, and felt used in turn.

But now there’s Eddie.

When you were at school together, you moved in entirely different circles. Then you’d come back from your first year of college with fewer friends in Hawkins and a new interest in Mary Jane. You’d been standing in his trailer, fishing in your purse for a five dollar bill when he’d stopped you with, “hey, you’re kind of a nerd right?”

You blinked, raised an eyebrow. “There are seven hand painted Dungeons and Dragons miniatures to my right, Munson. You really wanna play this game?”

He grinned, a little surprised by the bite back. “Yeah, but a real nerd. You’re smart, I mean?”

“Not many people would admit to being stupid.”

“I do.” 

You think that’s probably where it started. The ache for him. Eddie Munson, who you’d always dismissed as another boy with more confidence than he had any right to, stood there in his room, a sad but accepting smile on his face, and told you he thought there was something wrong with his brain.

“I mean, I never understand anything when I’m in class,” he said, scratching the back of his neck. “And then whenever I think, maybe, I’m starting to get it, we move on to something else and I’m left sitting there like, hey, you’re not gonna go over that another couple times?” Eddie gave a defeated shrug. “I’m gonna fail again this year, I just know it.”

“Well, you don’t actually know that,” you’d tried, feeling guilty when he’d rolled his eyes at the meaningless platitude. “Okay, what, you want me to tutor you or something?”

“Yeah? I mean nobody smart enough at school would risk being seen with me. Wouldn’t be a problem for you though, right? You’re a college girl now, above that kind of stuff.”

“And the benefit to me would be?”

“Free bud? Or whatever else you’re into,” he shrugged, dimples appearing soon after as he leaned into your space, your heart beating in your ears. “I’ve heard you academic types struggle to stay away from the good stuff.”

So while your new friends from college are spending their long Summer in Key Largo, or camping in Joshua Tree, you are at home in Hawkins, driving most days to Eddie’s trailer to get him where he should be in Math, English, Science and Geography. 

You are giving him more help than he’s paying you for, but it didn’t take you long to think of him as worth it.

Big brown eyes you have to get up close to appreciate, pretty pink lips always smiling when you’re around. He’s self deprecating but he blushes when you compliment and encourage him. Eddie calls you smart with adorable reverence and listens to your opinions. He’s funny and he’s talented and you want to hold his face in your hands and squish. 

It’s like every embarrassing girly teenage crush you never had has been focused all on this one boy and fuck, you weren’t expecting it when you drove up to his trailer for the first time with a calculator in hand, but it’s barely been a month and you want him like you've never wanted anybody. 

You didn’t mind touching people who knew better what they were doing than poor Luke from Physics, didn’t mind clashing teeth and your face pressed into sheets. You didn’t mind that they’d leave in the morning, or you would. You never wished them back. You never imagined holding their hand the way you think about holding Eddie's hand. Warm, big, soft in the palms and rough at the ends of his fingers, chunky rings you want to bring to your face and stare at.  

You think so many things about Eddie you never expected, wonder endlessly about what you wish to know. 

What is his favourite food? Could make it for him as he wants it? Does he like horror movies, or is that an assumption? Even if he doesn't, would he watch one with you anyway, let you cuddle into his side on his Uncle’s couch, jumping and laughing together? Would he want to drive you places, play the gentleman? Would he want to meet your parents? Get a house in the city? Adopt a dog or a cat? Go on dates and be sweet with each other well into your sixties?

What does Eddie picture when he thinks about his future? Are you there?

You wonder if he knows. No matter what he says, Eddie is not dumb, not even close. Surely he has to see that you’re giving more than you’re getting back. 

“Sixteen point one.”

You flinch a little to be pulled from your thoughts, face warm while you check his work. Scratchy, messy handwriting, calculations done correctly. You smack your hands on your knees. “Break time.”

“Hell yeah,” Eddie grins, fingers waggling in the air as he stands to search for his metal lunchbox.

“You left it in the kitchen.”

Eddie pauses to give you a warm, thankful smile, hand coming to lay flat on the left side of his chest. “You always keep me right, sweet thing.”

You have a love-hate relationship with the flirting. It makes your palms sweat like nothing else, your stomach do something it has only ever done at the first jolt forward on a roller coaster, your heart pound in excitement even as it aches with worry. It's exhausting. 

Eddie reappears at his door, hair flying out behind him as he glides over to you, settled on his bed. He settles in next to you, his long arm warm and in line with yours from shoulder to elbow. While he rolls a spliff on his side table, you pick at a new hole on the knees of your blue jeans. You scowl, thinking about how you’ll never locate a pair as good as these in Hawkins, thinking about driving to a city for the day, thinking about abandoning this place altogether, heading back to your college town where good stores sell quality jeans and whatever else you could want. Away from here, away from Eddie, who is beginning to torture you with his smiles.

And his touch.

Eddie grabs your hand from your knee to pass you the newly lit joint, leaving your skin aching to remember the feeling of his calloused fingers. You know his eyes are on your face when you take a drag, and you wonder helplessly if you look cute, or hot, or sexy in your college sweater and jeans, lips wrapped around rolled paper. 

It's a new feeling, and you can't say you're enjoying it. Since spending all this time with Eddie, you’ve come to understand why other people had so much trouble getting their heads down at school. If you thought like this back then, endlessly pondering the prospect of being liked, desired, loved, you would never have got anything done. 

“Hey,” Eddie says when he takes the joint back. “I have a question.”

“No, I don’t expect you to get back to trigonometry when we’re done.”

You hear the rushed breath from his nose, a little amused sound. “No question there. You lose all authority when you’re high.”

“Do not. I could make you study.”

“Nah,” he answers, eyes crinkling at the sides pleasantly, just like everything he does. “You get pretty docile. You’d let me do anything I wanted.”

His fingers brush yours at the next pass, a heated tingle running up your back and across your neck. Your mouth feels a little dry, and you lick your lips like it’ll help, thinking about all the implications of that sentence. “Not anything.”

Eddie has the good sense to blush then, but he quickly shakes his head and powers through. “What I was going to ask was, how come a girl like you is spending her Summer with me?”

You raise an eyebrow, settling back into his pillows to get comfy as your head begins to fuzz, trying to ignore the pleasant hit of his smell emanating from the squished fabric. “Were you smoking this before I got here? You asked me to tutor you.”

“Yeah, and God knows I need all the help you’re giving me,” he says, eyes wide and earnest. “I mean, seriously, I feel like I have a real chance of crawling my way out next year. But what I- what I meant was, and tell me if I’m crossing a line here, sweetheart, how come you’re here, with me, and not road tripping with some college boys or whatever all your friends are doing right now?”

Your face gets hotter. “Does it matter?”

“Does it- yeah. Yes. It matters.”

A prickle of recognition crawls up your spine, stemming from his tone, the way he’s looking at you, how he’s sitting; tense against your side. In the past, you would have felt pure dread, mind working overtime to prepare the required explanation for a boy who was really looking for you to change your mind. Instead, there’s nerves, all along your body, but there is excitement, too. Butterflies zipping about in your stomach. 

“Why?” You ask, passing the joint back, letting yourself freely enjoy the brief touch of his skin, now that you realise that’s allowed. “Why does it matter?”

Eddie blinks at you, his bottom lip shaking. “Well, if I’m being honest,” he starts, pausing to turn away from you and take a long drag like he needs a moment to think it through. Then he eyes you from the side, thumb flicking ash into a metal tray. “I guess the answer might save me from making a fool of myself? If you say that this is all an elaborate prank or I have a rich distant relative paying you to spend time with me or, I don’t know, that helping out super seniors will be good on your resume, then, then I’d accept it. And even this particularly dumb super senior would know not to ask a really, really dumb question.”

“You’re not dumb, Eddie.” You nudge his body with yours, head cottony, loose lipped. “I really, really wish you’d stop saying that.”

Eddie’s gaze moves to your face where you are leaning back on his pillows, watches the subtle turn of your head, rubbing your cheek against the cotton, the feel of it uniquely pleasant after a couple hits. 

“I’ll do whatever you tell me to if you go out with me.”

It sounds like he wasn't even entirely aware he was speaking until he's done. Eddie's eyes widen, his face flushing pink.

“Is that you asking me?”

“Depends on whether you answer correctly” 

Eddie smiles at the repetition, like he’s playing coy, like this is fun, but he is too expressive by half. His big eyes are searching, waiting, with a hint of resignation, to learn that he is fooling himself. 

Eddie always came across as cocky to you, at school. Just like the jocks he hated, he was an overconfident boy. Even now you can picture him stepping up on cafeteria tables and declaring himself a rebel with about a million different causes. But here, alone with you in his room, Eddie makes himself vulnerable.

Your cautious heart calls out to his. Don’t worry, me too.

You take a deep breath, forcing yourself not to look away. “I’d say yes, Eddie.”

You receive a classically Eddie slow blink, followed by a grin that screams every ounce of his joy and relief. His head tilts forward. “Shit. You’re serious?”

"If you are."

"Jesus- yes, I'm serious." Eddie nods emphatically, eyes wide like he’s worried you’ll take it back if he doesn’t establish how much he meant it. “We could get dinner? Or I’ll take you to the nice cinema in the next town? Or- or the lake, or I could show you the bar my friends and I play in-”

You gaze at him, butterflies erupting at the sight of his pleased smile, the way his hair moves with every excited tilt and nod of his head. This is new, and exciting, and scary.

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ♡ ୧.˚ₓ  

You stay in Hawkins until the end of Summer, until you have to go back to college and Eddie needs work for his final, final year at high school. 

He sends you off with a worn Metallica t-shirt to wrap around a pillow and cuddle into, a buzzy, crackling recording on tape of his voice over guitar, the black ring from his right hand that would be a promise made too early if it was from anyone else. 

You leave him with all the pens he chewed the tops of, hand written practice sheets for every class he’s taking, old notes on differentiation, centripetal force, the River Nile, searched for and retrieved from the back of closets in your parents house. You hope Eddie knows that this is you trying.

Across the months you spend in his arms with weather cooling and trees turning, followed by stolen weekends, every break from classes lasting longer than three days, you learn so many things about Eddie. 

He eats boxed mac and cheese by the pot. When you boil up some pasta on your own, he shovels it down the same way, surprised when the rich homemade sauce leads to you rubbing his tummy all night and trying not to laugh while he groans out that every spoonful was worth the pain.

He likes all kinds of horror movies; psychological and slasher and comedy. Getting you under his arm while they play in his living room and covering your eyes without your permission during the scary parts becomes a particular joy for him. 

“Eddie, get off!” 

“No can do, sweet thing. Gotta protect you from potential nightmare material. That’s my job now.”

He loves driving you everywhere, loves the sight of you in his van, sorting through the tapes in his glove compartment.

“Mega…Death?” 

“The world’s foremost thrash metal band. Great choice.” 

He wants to meet your parents, but he’s scared of what they’ll think of him. Dog or cat, he doesn’t mind as long as it’s not a horrible little yappy thing. He wants to get out of this town forever, live in a city, or really anywhere but here, where he could afford a nice-ish place. 

When he pictures his future, you are there. 

“Course, I would stay in Hawkins if you wanted to move back here.”

You’re trying, all of the time. You want him more than anything, because this is different, this is special, but that’s also what makes it so difficult. You are used to pleasured touches followed by closing doors, and it has left you disarmed to the open way that Eddie loves you, the only way he knows how.

“I know, I know,” he murmurs to your cheek, the roll of his hips a steady, torturous rhythm, drawing long whines from the back of your throat. Eddie’s big hand covers your forehead, pushing sweaty stray hairs away, rubbing your eyebrow with his thumb. The other is tucked under your back, helping you to arch sweetly so the head of his cock can find the spot at the back of your pussy that claims you, makes you desperate for him, with each heavy thrust. His brown eyes are sympathetic to your whimpers, proud of you for taking everything he has to give, even when it feels like your heart will beat out of your chest. “It’s always just a little too much for my sweet girl, mm? Still not used to being touched right.” He sighs, gives you a little pout with shining eyes. “I left you waiting too long for me, didn’t I?”

“Eddie,” you cry, fingers digging into his back, arms and legs wrapped tight around him as if he might leave if you let him loose. It’s perfect like this, his body weighing down on yours. You are too warm, your lungs protesting the lack of space to expand, but you can feel Eddie’s skin against every part of you. Any time you want, you can reach up to tuck some of his hair back off his sweaty neck. You do, earning yourself a perfect Eddie smile and a kiss from soft lips. The taste of his mouth, familiar to you now, makes your body clench around him, arms and legs around his torso, your weeping cunt around his cock. Nothing is like this, nothing is so perfectly overwhelmingly right.

“Oh, I felt that,” he smiles, breath spreading across your face at his chuckle. “Remember the first time you let me inside you? Wanted to be bent over and fucked, like you’re used to, mm?” Your toes curl in embarrassment, wanting to hide your face from him but there’s nowhere to go with his gentle hand holding you in place. You are left with your watering eyes, his pretty face blurring until you just about manage to blink the tears away. “It’s better like this, isn’t it?” He presses kisses down your nose, across your cheek to the corner of your mouth, sighing happily. “It’s better when we make love?”

You seize up, crying out, your back arching further as if you could get any closer to him. Eddie fucks you through the desperate clenching of your cunt, each hit to the spongy nerves of your spot building your pleasure past what should have been its peak. Your hand drifts up his back, grasping his neck from behind, fingers flexing and pulling at his pale skin enough that there will be dark bruises there tomorrow. 

At the heavy sob that falls from your mouth, Eddie lets you up, wrapping a hand around the back of your head to help you bury your face in his neck. 

Eddie hums as you come down, hips moving in tight circles like he’s just trying to get deeper while you weep into his skin. Your lungs feel increasingly restrained, little gasping breaths between wails, still confined between Eddie’s body and the mattress. “C’mon,” he says, leaning down to kiss your temple, rubbing below your ear with his thumb. “Let me see you. Need your pretty eyes to make me come.”

You feel him twitch inside you when he settles you back into his pillows, blinking up at him, finally letting the tears fall. The first time Eddie made you cry like this, overwhelmed at the intensity of feeling for him and all he does to you, you were afraid he would slow down, that it would ruin it for him. 

He’d licked the tears off your cheek and grunted through gritted teeth that nothing had ever made him so hot.

Eddie stares at you intensely now, mouth relaxed and open, letting out excited groans as his hips stutter, almost ready to fill you up. He could cum without your voice, like the others before him, but he is the first who deserves it.

“You treat me so well, Eddie,” you breathe, taking a shaky gasp at the sudden increase in the pace of his thrusts. 

Eddie nods desperately, his bottom lip shaking. “‘M trying.”

“I know,” you nod in turn, grasping his face with your hands, whispering so he knows it is all only for him. “I’m so lucky, Eddie. You’re so good, so good. Better than anything when you make love to me.”

His lips find yours to kiss you, but you end up breathing in his final moan instead, feeling him fill you up right with pooling warmth. Your legs squeeze his back, your pussy gifting you another little peak, a grateful flutter for taking Eddie’s cum deep inside you. 

Eddie drops entirely then, face pressed to the base of your neck. You groan a little, but allow yourself to caress his face, sweep his hair away from his sweaty forehead, hold it away from his heated neck. He presses a final wet kiss to your collar and rolls off you, finally allowing your protesting lungs the space to breathe properly. 

It doesn’t last long. Without ceremony, your whole body is pulled towards him, leaving your face tight to his chest. It steals the fresh air of the room, replacing it with the humidity your bodies create this close together. 

But it’s good. It’s better, because it smells like Eddie, feels like Eddie, and everything is better with him.

[unproduciblesmackdown]

will roland as winston in billions 5x03 “beg, bribe, bully”

[eastofthemoon]

I know we've talked about shallureith, how about kallurance instead? If you're okay with it, how about a soft yet sad moment among them where they're getting ready for a final battle of sorts? There's the spoken words in the air, they know they can die and they're ready for it, but the thought of losing the other two is too much to bear. No one has the guts to speak up though. And yet, they still gotta make the most out of these last twenty minutes before they deploy...

@blacklionshiro I got it down and this might not have been exactly what you asked, but I hope you like it all the same.

Title: Promises

Rating: G

Series: Voltron Legendary Defender

Characters: Keith/Allura/Lance

Summary: It all came down to one final battle, and as Lance looks to Keith and Allura, he can’t help but want to make a promise for the future.

It all came down to this.  All the battles, the wounds, the near death experiences all came down to this.  He, Keith, and Allura were to go in and take down Lotor’s super weapon, while Shiro, Hunk, Pidge and Coran kept the guards distracted.

It was simple, and yet Lance couldn’t ignore the dread that filled inside him.  He raised his head to Keith and Allura who were silently sitting in the same room with him.  Both of them shared the same serious frown.  Part of him wished they could just stay in this moment and didn’t have to face what would come, especially since they had no clue if they would all live through this.

Lance licked his lips, debating if he should say something.  Somehow, the words just popped out of his mouth.

“You know, next week my youngest sister turns 13.”  Allura and Keith both raised their heads as Lance continued.  “I missed her birthday for the last few years, so I got to be there this year…ya know?”

His sister’s 11th birthday was right after they had found the Blue Lion and got carried off to fight a galactic war.  Lance always felt guilty that his baby sister had to spent it fretting over his disappearance.  At least by her 12th birthday Lance and the other paladins had gotten in a trip home to tell their families they weren’t dead.

He hadn’t wanted to leave, but Lance knew they had to, although he found it difficult to let go when his family hugged him one more time.  

Lance chuckled softly as he rubbed his neck.  “Sorry, stupid priority I know when we got to stop Lotor-”

“It’s not stupid,” Keith said as he gave a half smile.  “That’s nice and you’ll make it home.”

Lance swallowed as he turned to him.  “You..really think so?”

“Yes,” Allura said in a firm tone.  “We all will.”

Lance wasn’t certain if he should believe it, but he couldn’t help but get hopeful.  “I’ll have to get a good present to make up missing her last two birthdays.”

Silence followed and Lance thought it was the end of it, but then Keith spoke.

“You could offer her a ride in Blue,” Keith said with a shrug.

Lance frowned.  That was a fun idea.  He had wanted to give his whole family a ride in Blue, but he had run out of time.

“Could..give her a tour of the castle too.”  Lance looked to Allura.  “If that’s okay…”

Allura smiled.  “Of course it is.  The mice could be her tour guides.”  She held up a finger.  “Then, perhaps take her to the mall to get ‘something sparkly’.”

Lance laughed.  “That’s perfect.  She’ll get to brag to her friends she got to go to a space mall.”

“Hunk can bake her a space cake,” Keith added.

“Pidge can build her a robot,” Allura chimed in.

“Yes to all of those,” Lance said with a smile.  He then glanced to the clock and cleared his throat.  “It’s..almost time to go.”

All three of them stared at each other, and with no words being said as they each gave a solemn nod.

“Whatever happens, we’re in this together,” Allura said as she held out her hand.  “To the bitter end.”

Keith stood and placed his hand over Allura’s.  “To the bitter end.”

Lance gave a small smile as he placed his hand on top of Keith’s.  “We’ll be alright because we’re together.”  He tilted his head at them.  “Come on, let’s make an epic story to tell at my sister’s birthday party.”

Upon seeing Allura and Keith smile back at him, the dread Lance was feeling inside lessened and all he could see what his sister’s surprised face when he showed up for her party.

[actually-impostor]

Could you do a fluffy Moxiety fic, where they're best friends who have fallen for each other? I'm kind of a sucker of classic prompts. Please don't hurt yourself and take your time.

Im a suckerfor classic prompts too my friend, and thanks! My wrist is way better latelyso!! I finally have time to finish this prompt!Don’t be tricked by the title, the fanfic is like G in rating. Also, this is aHuman AU

My best friend’s hot

Moxiety

Warnings: dorks crushing on each other,self-doubt, nothing else.

This is longer than i expected! Hope you like it and im sorry for the wait!

-0-0-0-0-

“He’s justso cute Logan!”

“Yes, you’vebeen saying that since we were 15, why haven’t you made a move yet?”

“Because!”

“That’s notan answer”

“He’s cute, how am I even going to tell him I’vebeen crushing on him for years? We, as a group, still have sleepovers and Angeland I always share a bed!”

“Your pointbeing?”

“He’s gonnathink all those times were with bad intentions!”

“Okay, youare jumping to conclusions. As Angel himself would say “you are parkouring allover the place” and that’s not ideal”

“Why do youthink so?”

“He hasknow you since you both were basically babies, he knows how and who you are”

Morganconsidered everything his more logical inclined friend had said. It was true, theyall had become a group when they were 13 but he and Angel had been friendssince pre-school. They knew each other; they knew each other’s boundaries,likes, dislikes, when one was feeling overwhelmed, and everything else.

Loganstared at his friend, he honestly couldn’t understand why Morgan hadn’tconfessed yet, it was clear that Angel had romantic feelings for him too andhonestly those two finally getting together would bring the group back to thebalance it had before Morgan panicked inside because of his own feelings.

Unknown tothe two bespectacled boys Angel and Roman were having their own conversation,even if this one was full of more movie references and criticisms.

“Just do asI did with Valerie!”

“There’s noway im gonna make a whole musical number inspired in High school musical toconfess to Morgan. There’s not even going to be a confession”

“Myconfession was a work of art thank you very much”

“You jumpedfrom a three and started singing “What I’ve been looking for” and it wasSharpay’s and Ryan version!”

“It wasepic and beautiful”

“I’m justsurprised it worked”

“Come on,you know Morgan is as big of a Disney fan as we both are, he’s gonna love it”

“Roman,dude, you gotta understand. I’m not confessing”

“But why?”

“… There’sno way he sees me as anything else besides a friend or brother”

“Aww, mychemical imbalance romance. Come here”

Roman gavethe shorter one a one-armed hug and ruffled his hair. He knew Angel worriedabout a lot of things and he honestly couldn’t relate. He had confessed to hisgirlfriend the second he found the perfect song. He didn’t even thought of thepossibility of Valerie rejecting him. But here Angel was, worrying that the boywho was obviously heads over hills for him could possibly reject him

“Do youwish for me to help you?”

“I appreciateit, but there really is no point Sir Sing-a-Lot. I’ll be okay Princey”

“If you aresure… well… we better go find those two nerds, who knows in what problem theymight get if we aren’t there”

Angel nodded,he knew exactly in which type of messes those two could get. It honestly wasn’ttheir fault, Logan was just too upfront and Morgan was too innocent and “dadlike” for his own good. Usually he and Roman had to go save the “damsels indistress” more often than not.

Luckilywhen they reached the other two they were sitting one in front of the otherwith their lunches out. Roman winked at Angel and sat himself besides Logan, immediatelystealing part of the fries the other boy had. Angel sat besides Morgan, smilingat the other and laughing once Logan slapped the top of Roman’s hand. SuddenlyAngel remembered something, and he smiled softly. The group would probablybenefit from it

“Guys”

“Ah?”

“My parentsare gonna be out on an art exposition for like a week, wanna have a sleepover?”

“We canhave a weeklong sleepover?!”

“…I mean,not really? But my house is open for anyone who wants to crush over during theweek”

“Oh… Well,I’m in!”

“Apologiesbut this week I have to work as baby sitter, so I don’t think I could make it”

“I have rehearsal,but if you let me crush on your house during the whole week I’ll wake you upwith pancakes”

“Deal, thenit’s as you guys know, key is on top of the door like always. Leave it thereonce you actually enter the house please. Logan, you are free to crush overwhenever.”

“Thank youvery much”

“No probbob”

“That’snot-”

“Expression”

“Oh, okay”

The secondschool finished Morgan hold on to Angel’s arm, jumping slightly up and downlike an excited puppy. He was going to spend the whole weekend over Angel’shouse and then drop by as often as possible during the week! It was perfect!

“We aregoing to have a full on Disney marathon!”

“You gottago pick up your things tho Morgan”

“…or Icould steal one of your pajamas”

The emo boyblushed, having his crush over in his house with his clothes was going to killhim one day, but he’ll probably die happily. He sighed and nodded, it reallywas impossible to say “no” to Morgan.

Once theyreached Angel’s house and said goodbye to the boy’s parents they settled in fora full marathon. Popcorn was made, pajamas were borrowed and a blanket forthwas build. Morgan had his head in Angels shoulder and was fully absorbed in themovie, so much that he didn’t realized when he took the others hand and startedplaying with Angel’s fingers

“You havepretty hands”

“Your faceis pretty” It was an impulse, to attack others when complimented, but he didn’tmean to say that. “I- I mean-!”

“So you don’tthink my face is… p-pretty?”

Morgan wasstaring at him though his eyelashes, and Angel felt his heart trying to beatitself out of his chest. Ahh, he was doomed wasn’t he? “Fuck it”

“Nope, I thinkyou are beautiful”

Using thehold that Morgan had in his hand he lifted it and kissed the others knuckles.The bespectacled boy giggled and blushed, this was what he wanted. To be ableto be with the boy he loved in a calm atmosphere

“I like youAn”

“And I youMo”

[sometimesrosy]

When Kass Morgan gave the right to make The 100 a tv show, do you think she could've put certain stipulations down? Like that certain characters shouldn't die, etc? I always wondered if she asked for Bellarke to become a thing. It sounds ridiculous but it's always been so clear that they're building up Bellarke while at the same time JR and the cast would say they didn't see them as romantic, etc? So I'd wonder if maybe they didn't necessarily want Bellarke but had to make it happen. thoughts?

I guess I thought that because if I were an author, and I gave a company the right to make a tv show out of my characters, I wouldn’t want them to change certain things that were dear to me. So if I really loved a couple in my book, I’d make sure the tv show wouldn’t change that that status and make them end up with other people. And it’s clear KM loves Bellarke. But at the same time it sounds ridiculous that she’d put Bellarke down in her contract as something that had to happen. Thoughts?

They way I heard it, I don’t have the evidence to back this up, but I saw it and it was good enough for me way back when, is that this was not Kass Morgan’s intellectual property to start with. She was HIRED to write the YA novel, and JR was hired to write the pilot. The two stories were written from the same basic set up and starting plot, and the same main characters, and were allowed to go in their divergent directions. The 100 the tv show is not an adaptation of The 100, the novel. They are both original stories based on the same premise. 

The original premise, however, included Bellarke as a the main couple. 

JR had the freedom to follow Bellarke as the center romance if he wanted. Or to dump Bellarke as the romance. Or, if he so desired, to delay the center romance of Bellarke so that he could focus on the action and politics and adventure and non-romantic relationships and also on building a truly epic, slow burn romance that makes the whole story better.

You can say, like many have, that JR chose to dump the central romance of Bellarke and make it platonic, but then you’re going to have to take into account all the clearly non-platonic music, visual cues, fades, dialogue, eye contact, cinematography, plot, and script to screen.

“Take into account” does not mean, “ignore and pretend it’s not there” the way so much of the fandom does. Or calling people delusional, heteronormative lesophobes for seeing the canon evidence and pointing it out, which is just an attempt to discredit the ideas without ever actually addressing them.

If JR didn’t want Bellarke to happen, then he wouldn’t be telling the story from the pilot. And we wouldn’t have the visual journey of Bellarke hand holding. And we wouldn’t have the fades and the bellarke theme. 

If he was being forced to tell Bellarke and he didn’t want to, he would have made them romantic a long time ago, and then had them break up and move on from it, becoming awesomely platonic and saving the world that way.

Instead he hinted at it, at held it away. Camouflaged it. Smoke and mirrored it. Hint. Switch the story. Hint. Show a different romance. Hint. Run away. Prestidigitation. 

I don’t know how many ways I can say this. 

This isn’t someone NOT telling a romance story. This is what a romance story looks like. This is a highly committed romance story with  three years of investment into a developing romantic connection. This is not an accident. Putting them into a shot with their faces inches apart as they stare intensely into each other’s eyes before darting down to glance at lips is not a “whoops!” If they didn’t want them staring at lips, they wouldn’t be showing it. Staring at lips is a visual cue that kissing is on someone’s mind. Bellamy feeding Clarke that chip and us sitting there rewinding a million times trying to decide if Bellamy touched her lip or not is not us reading into something that isn’t there. JR had them FILM THAT SCENE DOZENS OF TIMES. Eliza joked about it. She had to spit the chip out again and again to do reshoots. Do you know how expensive it is to film things? They spent thousands of dollars on that chip feeding/lip brushing scene to make us focus on it and question it and obsess over it and wonder. 

YES. These moments are subjective and we can say they mean romance or platonic, but the very fact that the show is spending all this money on putting in scenes that force us to question if something is platonic or romantic IS TELLING A STORY WHERE ROMANCE IS ALWAYS ONE OF THE OPTIONS. ALWAYS. Will they? Won’t they? That is the essence of a romance story.

That is how you tell a romance that hooks the audience. 

We’re hooked. 

[imaginetonyandbucky]

Could you write a fic where Tony and Bucky have been through so much in getting and staying together (maybe after CW?) that they just know they're each other's one and only and forever after. So when everyone (Avengers/civilians/media) doubts them and ridicules their relationship or when 'incriminating' photos or other proof of cheating or betrayal is brought up by well-meaning friends or malicious a-holes to break them up, they shrug and say 'I trust him, he would never-', pretty please?

Sampoured himself a glass of juice and took it into the wide commonarea. He really had to stop letting Steve goad him into doing shitthat was about four levels over his actual capabilities. All hewanted now was to flop on the big couch and whine about how much hiscalves hurt.

Barneswas already there, watching some celebrity gossip show, of allthings. Sam blinked in confusion, then remembered that Stark had goneoff to Tokyo on a business trip yesterday, and Barnes hadn’t beenable to go along, because his legal status in Tokyo was still inquestion. Bucky-boo was probably hoping for a clip about his guy.

Theshow didn’t disappoint – not long after Sam collapsed onto thecouch with a grunt of greeting, it flipped to a segment on Tony’sarrival in Tokyo. The host chattered inanely over a video montage.There was Stark being greeted as he got off the plane, signingautographs in the airport, a cute shot of him posing with a kid in anIron Man costume.

Barnessighed soulfully and Sam glanced back at the TV to see Stark walkingalong a red carpet toward some event, looking even sharper thanusual. Next to Stark was a Japanese business mogul at his side with apretty girl on his arm. Damn, why did rich old guys get all thepretty ones? Barnes, of course, only had eyes for Stark.

“Youknow if you told him how much you liked it, he’d probably wear thetux for you at home,” Sam pointed out.

“It’sspecial ‘cause I don’t get to see it much,” Barnes said, whichwas a fair point.

Samwished the show host would shut up; her voice was grating. Oh, thepretty girl was the business guy’s daughter. That was a bit easierto swallow. Sam wondered if Stark was going into business with theguy, whether he could hook Sam up with an introduction. Sam closedhis eyes and stretched his aching calves again and visualized Rogersrunning into a brick wall or something else nearly as hard as hishead.

He’dprobably just go right through it. Parachutes and doors were conceptshe was still working on, apparently.

Barnes’breath hitched and Sam cracked one eye. Then he sat up, fast, becausethe TV was showing Stark dancing with the daughter. Closely. Theywere definitely not leaving any room for Jesus in there, holy shit.The girl said something, and Stark threw his head back and laughed.

Barnesmade another soft, indeterminate noise. Shit shit shit.

(Mobile readers, ‘ware the readmore!)

“Barnes,hey,” Sam tried. “It’s, I’m sure it’s not anything.” Hewasn’t sure of any such thing, actually, but Sam wasn’t gonna beable to restrain the Winter Soldier by himself, so he was stalling.“You okay, man?”

Barnesput his hands over his mouth. “Maybe.” He sounded a littleshaken. “It’s just, he’s…”

“Hey,I know, man, it’s not cool. But it doesn’t necessarily meananything.You know his rep.”

Barneswasn’t listening. “Those’re the steps we were practicingtogether, for the charity thing next month,” he murmured.

Samwinced. Jesus, Stark…

Barnessniffled, and Sam groaned inwardly. How the hell was he the onegetting stuck taking care of a heartbroken assassin? “C’mon,don’t jump to conclusions, you’ll work it out,” Sam tried.

Butthen Barnes dropped his hands, and he was… smiling?

Teary.But smiling.

“Thehell,” Sam wondered.

Barnesflashed him a grin. “He’s sayin’ hi,” he told Sam. “KnewI’d be watching, wanted me to know he was thinkin’ of me.”

Samglanced back at the TV. “Buck, I hate to say it, but are you sure?”

“SureI’m sure,” Bucky said. “You know how much we went through toget where we are? No way is he throwin’ me over for a fling.” Theshow switched to someone else and Bucky flicked it off, then fishedhis phone out of a pocket and dialed. “Hey, baby, I’m notinterrupting anything, am I? …Nah, I just saw the segment onStarshineandcouldn’t resist. That was the sweetest– Oh yeah? Hang on, lemmejust go somewhere a little more private.” Barnes winked at Sam andstrode for the elevator, still talking.

“Mornin’,gorgeous,” said Tony. Bucky looked up from his tablet and tippedhis head back so that Tony could lean in for a kiss on the way to thecoffee. “Good run?”

Buckysnorted and went back to scrolling through the news. “No suchthing,” he said, like he always did. “I only go ‘cause it’smarginally less awful than enduring Steve’s sad puppy face.”

Tonygrinned as he sat down and stole the toast from Bucky’s plate, justlike he did every morning. Bucky only bothered with a token defenseand protest. (Bucky actually made the toast, took one bite out of it,and then left the rest for Tony every morning just so Tony would eatsomething.Tony probably knew that, but as long as they didn’t mention it,then it still worked.) “I’d think you’d be immune to Steve’sface by now.”

“Thereis no immunity to that,” Bucky said reasonably. “Anyway, it nevergets old watching him challenge Sam to contests that Sam knows damnwellhecan’t win.”

Tonysnickered and brushed crumbs off his fingers. “What was it thistime?”

“Hurdles,”Bucky said. He scrolled a little further, to reveal a lurid headline.“Oh, look, you’re cheating on me again.”

“What?”Tony leaned into Bucky’s side, reading. “Oh dear, I’ve beenfound out.”

“Indeedyou have, you hussy.” Bucky delivered it deadpan and off-rhythm,like a second-grader delivering memorized lines in a school play.

“Butmy love for– Wait, who is it? I forgot to check.” Tony scrolleddown to check the article. “Oh, right. My love for Natasha cannotbe denied. An ocean to our pond.”

“Don’tworry,” Natasha told Bucky with a smirk as she came into thekitchen. “You can have him back now; I was only in it for themoney.”

Buckyfelt the smile tugging at his lips. “You betrayer,” he toldNatasha.

“That’sSultanVile Betrayertoyou,” Natasha said. “Any coffee left?”

“Mr.Stark! Mr. Stark!”

Tonyglanced up and rolled his eyes. Honestly, reporters.It was eight in the morning and the Avengers had just come off asix-hour-long battle with a pod of honest-to-god giant squids off thecoast. They were all exhausted, bruised and bloody, and covered inslime, seaweed, and other things better not considered too closely.Godforbidtheybe allowed to go back to the Tower and take showers before having toput on their public relations hats.

Still,maintaining the goodwill of the press was part of the job, so Tonyplastered on his public face and directed a well-practiced smirk intothe camera behind the woman’s shoulder. “Yes, hi, hello. There’llbe the usual post-incident news conference at the Tower; you’llwant to contact our PR office for–”

“Yessir, Mr. Stark, and our usual correspondent is already on it, but inthe meantime, since you were so valiantly defending us when themorning editions rolled out, I wanted to get your reaction to this.”She held up a newspaper – Jesus, they still madethose?– with a photo covering most of the top half.

Tonystared at the photo for several long seconds, then swiveled his headto look over at his boyfriend. “Tell me this is doctored,” hedemanded.

Buckyglanced at the paper, then looked away guiltily. “Baby–”

“Don’tyou ‘baby’ me!” Tony snapped. “How could you?”

“Comeon, Tony, it’s not that big a deal,” Bucky pleaded.

“Notthat big a deal? Dammit, you promised Icouldbe the one to let the paps catch me kissing Clint!”

Buckysighed and put his hands on Tony’s shoulders, pulling him away fromthe reporter. He glared at the camera and said quietly, “Look, theopportunity was there, and I jumped. I’m sorry. What if I let yoube the one to imply it’s a three-way, instead?”

Tonypouted at him. “Can I do it in today’s press conference?”

Bucky’sshoulders slumped. “I guess, since I didjumpthe gun on you already. Just make sure you let Clint know we’reupping the timetable.”

Tonybeamed. This was going to be epic.“You’re the best.”

“Whend’you reckon they’ll stop trying to make us have jealous fits andbreak up?”

“It’sthe press,” Tony said. “So approximately never. But most of thesemi-respectable gossip rags are starting to figure out that we’retrolling them, so pretty soon we’ll be down to just the bottomfeeders, and those are really just funny. I’m holding out for oneof having a secret affair with Bat Boy.”

“God,I love you.”

“Iknow.” Tony leaned in for a kiss, heedless of the slime.

~ @everyworldneedslove