#lukawrites

[simaraknows]

can't believe that not only have I started writing fanfiction about Haarlep but to top it all off it's not even smut but elaborate musings on incubus ethics with a sprinkle of trauma for everyone involved

[mustlovesteve]

Summary: In which Steve Harrington stumbles upon a vampiric Eddie Munson and locks him up in the basement for everyone else's safety. From that point on, Steve mostly has an extremely bad time, but he also falls in love. As it turns out, changing your own mind about yourself is easier said than done.

Please heed the warnings in the tags!

[thekarleffect]

Quick prompt

The prompt:

Jonah woke up and noticed the other side of his bed was empty he got out of bed and went to take a shower.

After his shower he got dressed and went to the kitchen and saw his live In boyfriend Cyrus Goodman making eggs

“Hey babe” Jonah said

“Hey Sweetie, How did you sleep?”

“I slept like a baby, how about you?”

“I Slept fine, woke up a bit early so I decided to make us some breakfast”

“Looks delicious, Thank you"

“Hopefully it will taste as good as it looks"

Jonah Hugged Cyrus from behind and said “if you made them I am sure I will love them, Almost as much as I love you” he then kissed

“I Love you too, now go get some plates so we can eat"

As they ate Jonah and Cyrus talked about their plans for the day, Jonah was going to work and Cyrus was going to stay at home and work on his screen play

“I was right the eggs were great” Jonah said after they ate

“Oh come on Jonah we both know for a fact you are only saying that because you love me”

“c’mon Cy you are a fantastic cook, you need to believe in yourself more you are so great even though you don't believe it"

Later Jonah was preparing to go to work

“Aren't you forgetting something” Cyrus asked

“I don’t think so, I have my wallet, my keys and that’s all I really need”

“seems to me you are forgetting something”

“I am? Oh I know what it is”

Jonah leaned in and gave Cyrus a peck on the lips and then pulled away"

Cyrus blushed and began to stammer

“Th-Thanks, But I uh meant th-this" Cyrus said

As he pointed to his open hand

Jonah looked and saw his cell phone in Cyrus' Hand

“Oh I forgot about my phone, Thank you so much Babe” Jonah kissed Cyrus on the cheek

“Bye Cy" Jonah said as he opened the door

“Bye Jonah" Cyrus said as he watched Jonah leave for work, he smiled feeling that he is extremely lucky to have Jonah in his life

[mustloveshera]

Title: weakness Series: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)  Pairing: Catra/Adora Word count: 635 Summary: Catra has won, but she's never felt more powerless. Based on this idea that I wrote earlier. Warnings: See AO3 notes. Angsty. Notes: AO3 link

Adora is gone.

There’s a moment of absolute silence on the battlefield, when everyone seems to be staring where She-Ra once stood. 

Laughter bubbles out of Catra’s mouth, light and easy, but when she swallows, she can only taste bile.

--

“Yuck.  I think the worst part of being sick is this gross taste in my mouth.”

“If you take the medicine, you’ll feel better.”  

“Nope, not happening! That stuff tastes even worse! I’ll be fine!”

“Catra, just drink it!”

“No!”

“Bleh. Look, see, I drank it!”

“But you’re not—”

“So, are you saying you’re not as tough as I am?”

“As if! Give it to me.”

--

From what sounds like a million miles away, Catra hears voices cry out. She doesn’t look to where they’re coming from. She just keeps laughing as the battle rages around her—lasers and cannons and explosions and shouts.

“Wow, so much for beating me, huh, Princess of Power?” Catra asks, advancing towards the pile of ash. “Can’t do much like this. I guess I win.”

She startles when she feels a weight on her shoulder. So much of her life has been spent living in fear, and even now, she can’t help but panic at the unexpected contact. She whips around, finding herself staring at Lohni.

“Well, I guess—that’s that, right?” Lonnie asks, lips curled into a smirk. “They won’t put up much of a fight now. And your promotion is in the bag.” But everything is wrong. Her voice is wrong, too high-pitched and uneven. Her smile is wrong. The way she’s trying to keep her hands steady is wrong. It’s all wrong. Wrong wrong wrong.

Catra stares at her, blinking furiously when her vision gets blurry. Lonnie pulls away, her smile crumbling. When Catra tries to look at Adora—at the pile of ashes—she can barely make out anything. Her face feels wet.

--

“I wonder what I could’ve been if I’d gotten rid of you sooner.”

--

Ashes. That’s it?

Catra’s knees buckle. As soon as she hits the ground, she clenches her fists, letting her claws pierce her skin. She can’t feel the sharp pain she’d been hoping for—the only thing she can feel is this horrible taste in her mouth that she can’t get rid of no matter how many times she swallows. It takes a few moments before she registers the feeling of blood sliding down her palms onto the ground.

“Catra! Are you okay?” Catra doesn’t even need to look, doesn’t want to, but she can hear Scorpia shuffling around beside her. “Catra—”

--

“Bye, Adora! I really am going to—

I didn’t want you to—

I really am going to—

Come back—

Miss you—”

--

“Nonononononono—" Catra can’t say it enough times. “No—!”

Nothing changes. There’s still just a pile of ash in front of her. That’s all that’s left. Catra is so strong now and nothing she does now will make any difference and she hates it more than she’s ever hated anything.

“Catra, we need to get out of here. This isn’t a safe—”

“No!” Catra shrieks, crawling forward to scoop up the ashes into her trembling hands. The blood seeps into the ashes and drips down onto the ground.

How can this be all that’s left? Adora is—Adora was—

--

“Are you ever going to let it go? That was one time!”

“I know, but it’s always funny!”

--

Catra screams, tears streaming down her face, as Scorpia hauls her up and carries her away. She doesn’t unclench her fists, trying to keep the ashes from slipping out, but they’re running too fast, and by the time they’re out of sight of the battle, the only thing that’s left in her hands is her own blood.

[mustlovelance]

Title: just a boy from cuba Series: Voltron: Legendary Defender Pairing: Allura/Lance Word count: 450 Summary: When Lance takes Allura to visit the cave that led him to her, she seizes the opportunity to tell him something important. Notes: AO3 link

Lance knocked at the air with far more enthusiasm than the demonstration required. There was a passion in so much of what he did. Allura hadn’t met many people in the entire universe with such vivacity.

“And then her barrier went down, just like that!” he said. His voice echoed within the cavern walls.

“Well, you’re so charming,” Allura said, laughing. “How could she decline such a request?”

Lance looked away, kicking at the dirt.

“Ah, back then, I wasn’t really…”

By this point, Allura could predict his spirals. He’d already apologized for his behavior back then, but a reminder of that would do little to reassure him now. She reached for his shoulder, squeezing it gently.

“The Blue Lion saw your potential,” she said. “She knew who you would become. And that person is…very charming.”

It was Allura’s turn to look away. She should have felt perfectly confident, knowing what she knew, but some force kept her from seeking eye contact. Her peripheral did provide a glimpse of Lance when she dared to look. That nervous smile looked like it was about to wobble right off his face.  

“Like uh…like Prince Charming?” he asked, in a tone that wasn’t quite hopeful, but rather like he was bracing himself for a fall. Not like before, when he didn’t care how she reacted, when it was all a game.

Allura could only assume that “Prince Charming” was a reference to something specific from Earth culture. However, she had her own way of relating to such a concept. She’d met Prince Charming. Handsome, suave, flattering, convenient, taking charge… It was everything she should have wanted. But now, even if he’d truly been as she imagined, it wouldn’t feel right.

When she finally looked over at Lance, he was looking back. Still bracing himself, a hint of that familiar self-deprecating smile on his lips.

“No,” Allura said. She rushed to her next words, realizing that his expression would crumble in that instant regardless, and hating the sight of it. “Not Prince Charming. Just…Lance.”

Lance, who bathed the mice and played with her hair and went on so many Monsters & Mana adventures with her and managed to convince Coran to let them go shopping for sparkly things and unwisely attempted to jump across the Blue Lion’s paw. Lance, who was the best at cheering her up, no matter what.  

“Oh,” he said, cheeks flushed. “Well.”

Allura slid her hand down his shoulder until she could draw his into a hold, offering him a smile. He startled, but tentatively returned the gesture.

If she was going to find any kind of happy ending amidst all of this, it could only be with him.

[agentlukaofshield]

Alone Time

Alone Time

Rating: Mature

Summary: An extension of the kiss scene in 5X08

Excerpt 

He pulled back with a long suffering sigh that didn’t match the affection and lust in his eyes and shook his head at her. “What am I going to do with you?”

“Well,” she said, reaching out to tug him back against her, “I was hoping we could celebrate our recent engagement,” she didn’t miss how his smile widened as she used that word, “but if you’d rather not…”

He reached out and caught her hand in his, tugged it up until he could press his lips to the back of her hand. “I could be convinced.”

Read on Ao3

[lukawriting]

THE GREEN TRIO - wip intro

genre; harry potter fanfiction

major themes/tropes; found family, slow burn, enemies-to-lovers, tragic almosts, i am seen without being known

content warning; drug use, drug dealing, abuse

synopsis;

People know of them, but they don’t know them; That’s the mystery of the green trio. As Hogwarts’ only drug dealers, Cersei, Diana and Luka are kind of notorious at this point even if they aren’t that well received amongst their peers otherwise.

They prefer to keep to themselves anyways, so who cares? They have more important things to focus on.

Like Luka’s absentee father.

Like Diana’s Deatheater parents.

Like Cersei losing her first love.

Like the inevitable return of You-Know-Who.

Beginning at the start of Goblet of Fire, follow the Green Trio as the expansion of their ‘business’ brings them way more trouble than they were ever looking for.

taglist {ask/dm to be added} ;

[quilloftheclouds]

dione!

[Send me a character from one of my wips and I’ll give some soft headcanons!]

The guilty green bean, coming up!

What they smell like:

Magic! Lots and lots of it! According to Colin: “Not a bad smell! Like… like perfume, or something. It kinda smells like the sea but… deeper? Stop looking at me like that, I don’t know how to describe it!” 

What their favorite smells in the world are:

Pine trees during a rainstorm~

What pajamas they wear/what they wear to sleep in:

Dione doesn’t sleep. She cursed herself so she doesn’t need to. -_-

My favorite ship (if applicable) and a cute hc about them:

Caelin and Dione are the cutest! When Dione gets more comfortable with touch later on, she lets Caelin lay down in her lap and they play with her hair while she meditates! Usually she comes out of her trance to realize there’s tons of small braids in her bangs.

My favorite friendship (if applicable) and a cute hc about them:

Dione doesn’t have many friends. :c But her and Hana are so so sweet. They love ranting about their gardening experiences with eachother~

A song that reminds me of them:

AURORA - Through The Eyes Of A Child

What animal I think they would be if they were an animal:

A white-tailed deer, specifically a stag! (Dione and gender are a weird situation.)

What position they sleep in:

She doesn’t sleep, but she usually rests cross-legged on something soft (like, you know, A BED) while she’s in her trance to replenish her magic!

Their favorite drink:

It would be tea. Of some sort.

A gift I would give them if I could:

Her having a full library to peruse and enjoy without anyone bothering her would be the best day ever for her~

[billyloomiis]

a writeblr re-introduction.

                     — billyloomiis (formerly. suswriting/lukawriting)

this is my... third writeblr. so thats fun. please call me lukey or some version of my url. i like writing spooky stuff (prose or script) and character studies more than anything. i reblog a lot of oc and story related content. 

notably, this is also a sideblog to my main. i follow back from @joshwashingtn​ i cannot stress that enough.

current wips

the heatherthorns - standalone novel

three months ago, persephone felt her brother die and it nearly ruined her. three months ago, jade did die and it saved his life. coming back to friar lake, he has a mission: his little sister has to die and he’s going to be the one to kill her | general tag

allegory of a name - series

a young woman wakes up with no memory of who she is and is admitted into a psych ward. on a quest to find out the truth about herself, she begins to realize there is something very wrong about this reality she’s in. | general tag | characters

ghosts on paper - standalone

everett used to see ghosts. for years he thought he’d shut the door inside himself that let them in, but on his first day of college, a ghost leads him right to a missing persons’ poster. everett soon finds himself uncovering a past long thought to be buried with a lot more ghosts than he ever anticipated. | general tag | characters

as i please - limited series 

a young psychopath makes a deal with her town’s demon in order to slowly gain more control over those around her. the town outcast is the only one with the ability to stop her—or join her. | general tag | characters

we are only gone - standalone

a group of strangers wake up in a house without any memory of how they got there, but with the undeniable feeling of recognition towards the house and each other. quickly it becomes apparent that this is not a normal house and they won’t be leaving–at least not without one hell of a fight. | general tag | characters

a wolf is a wolf - duology

luka, cat, and hanna have been on the run for years. that is just the life of a werewolf in a world that wants to see them dead. so when fellow wolf demetri shows up, saying something about a cure? well, luka wants it and her friends aren’t just about to let her go off on her own | general tag | characters

[kd-holloman]

Good evening, everyone! I bring you mur. MURDER. That’s right, have a very R-rated short story for you all. I’ve never written anything quite like this before, but I’ve been listening to a lot of true crime podcasts and in the spirit of spooky-season I wanted to write something about the scariest creatures of all: humans. I will tag everyone that seemed interested in my original post about it at the end, but PLEASE read the warnings before you decide to read further. 

Content Warning(s): Language, Violence, Blood, and graphic depictions of murder. 

Stupid fucking April. 

The day I married her, I’d  promised to love her through richer and poorer, sickness and health. I vowed  to provide for her, to keep a roof over her head, and food in her belly. And how did she repay me? By not ironing my fucking pants. 

Her life wasn’t that hard. She had to take care of the house and make sure the kids didn’t kill themselves. 

And she couldn’t even be bothered to iron my fucking slacks.

“Where are we going?” Jaime, or Jenny, or Jessica asked. She reeked of stale cigarettes and dollar store vanilla body spray. “We’re, like, out of town. I thought you said we were going to get fucked up.” 

I clenched my fingers around the steering wheel so hard they ached. Jenna didn’t need more meth. She needed to stop asking questions. “Do you want this shit or not?” 

“Well, yeah.” 

“Then, shut the hell up and stop asking questions.” 

She scoffed and sat up a little straighter in her seat. Her bony arms held over her front to ward her off from the chill of the air conditioner. She watched as we passed below a giant sycamore, a gangly branch draped with Spanish moss stretched over the rutted goat-path that led to the cabin. “It’s kind of creepy out here. You’re not going to murder me out here, right?” 

I smiled in spite of myself. “Yeah, it’s pretty creepy.” 

I pulled the truck up in front of the leaning cabin. It had been in my family for generations. My grandfather had brought my father here when he was a boy. My dad used to tell me stories about how he and his old man would spend weekends during the summer catching catfish in the swamp and hunting squirrels that jumped from the boughs of the red maple trees. 

By the time I was old enough to go to camp, the cabin’s roof had caved in and my dad hadn’t had the money to fix it. The inclimate weather had rotted the floorboards, and a family of raccoons had made themselves at home in the walls. 

As nice as it would be to restore the shack to its former glory, I didn’t go to camp for the cabin, anyway. All of my business was done in the barn. 

“What the fuck. Do you live here?” Jasmine asked as she squinted through the darkness. 

I sighed. “Didn’t I tell you to shut the hell up?” 

“Yeah. Sorry.” 

I turned on my flashlight to see the overgrown path that led back to the crooked barn. Getting struck by a cottonmouth would put a damper on my evening plans. 

I pushed the barn door open, gestured for Jeanine to enter, and followed behind her. 

There was no electric in the rickety old barn, but the propane lanterns I had did the job just fine. I needed just enough light to see. I could feel the pulse of anticipation thrumming through my body. I had to fight to keep my hands steady as I hung the last lantern on its rusty nail. 

Jill stood in the middle of the barn, shivering in her stained tank top. “It’s cold.”

I couldn’t feel a chill in the air, but that didn’t mean much. I was starting to sweat beneath my thrift store threads. “I’ll light the woodstove.” 

I lit the woodstove and let Jenny try to warm herself by it in favor of inspecting my workbench. It was just as I’d left it about a year ago. All of my tools were in their assigned spots. I hovered my fingers above them: pliers, saw, bolt cutters. 

I picked up the hunting knife and ran my thumb along the blade. It had been dulled by use and time. The steel winked in the orange lamplight. It reminded me of the time my dad had given me my first pocket knife.

“Remember, son,” he said seriously as he held the folded pocket knife between his thumb and forefinger, “a dull knife is more dangerous than a sharp one.” 

At the time, I hadn’t cared. I had only wanted to take my knife and whittle sticks down to sharp points. Now that I was older, I understood what he meant. A sharp knife left clean cuts. It did less damage to the tissues around the blade. Wounds caused by sharp knives were easier to heal than dull ones.

“Do you have the stuff or what?” Jeannine asked. 

Again with the fucking questions. I held the knife down by my side. “Come here.”

She hesitated at the harshness of my tone. 

It was too late for sensibility. She should have thought about before she’d gotten into my truck. 

“Get your ass over here!”  

One step. 

April should have iron my fucking slacks. 

Two steps. 

If my slacks hadn’t been wrinkled Leslie Wilford wouldn’t have looked at me like that. Like I was a rat that had scurried from the gutter. 

Three. 

This dumb bitch, Julia, Josephine, Jane--what ever the fuck her name was--should have never gotten in my truck.

Four. 

And I couldn’t stand the stink of her cloying vanilla perfume. 

Fury had blood roaring in my ears. The hunting knife shook in my hand. When Juliet was close enough to reach, I grabbed her with my left arm to hold her steady and jammed the blade into her gut, below her sternum. It took a little more force than I anticipated. The first cut always took me by surprise. 

Her expression went from cautious to stunned. Her eyes widened, her bony fingers wrapped around my wrist. She tried to pry my hand free, but years of sacrificing her meals for drugs had left her weak. 

I pushed harder. The blade scraped against bone. 

A sound pulled its way from her lungs, in a nearly-sensual moan.

I yanked the knife free.

Blood bloomed on the front of her tank top, dark and spreading. It looked like one of those tests psychiatrist gave their crazy patients. What does this look like to you?

It looked like release.

I stabbed her again. 

Her body lurched with the force of the impact. She staggered back a step or two. 

 I yanked it free and thrust the knife back into her body. The handle was slick with blood, warm and wet against my palm. 

Her knees gave out and I let her fall to the floor. 

I knelt down over her, knees pinning her arms to the cool dirt below. 

She opened her mouth, a trickle of crimson ran from the corner, staining her pale skin like ink. She tried to speak, couldn’t, closed her mouth, and then opened it again. She looked like a fish that had just been yanked from the stream. “Please,” she gurgled, “stop.” It was such a feeble sound. So frail. So tragic. 

I reached up and pressed my thumb to her cheek. It left a bloody smear behind. I leaned down so I knew she could hear me when I murmured, “No.” 

As I felt her blood sticking to my hands, a primal force overcame me. It had tasted blood and wouldn’t be sated until the life had fully drained from her eyes. 

I stabbed her again, and again, and again. Blood splattered my face, hot and wet. I could taste the copper of it on my lips. 

Well after she took her last breath, I pulled the knife free for a final time and dropped my aching arms to my sides. While I caught my breath I took a few moments to bask in my adrenaline-laced euphoric high.

Humans were bound to this lifeless rock, doomed to work nine-to-five jobs they hated until their very essence ran dry. Killing was the only thing that made me feel alive.

                                                 ###

Dawn was just breaking by the time I pulled into my driveway, exhausted and sated. I got out of the truck, balancing a box of muffins and coffee while I tried to work up the energy to pretend like I hadn’t spent all night dismembering and spreading a corpse through the swamp.

“Good morning, Rob!” 

“Good morning, Luanne,” I greeted. 

“What are you out doing so early this morning?” She asked, her schnauzer sniffing around her plushy pink slippers. 

Luanne was a sweet lady, but I really fucking hated it when people asked me too many questions. “Oh, I just wanted to get April and the kiddos something special for breakfast.” I held up the box of muffins as if it explained everything. “Would you like a muffin?” 

“Aw, you’re so sweet.” She waved me a way with an arthritic hand, “I can’t. I don’t want to mess up my sugar too much. Have a nice day, Rob!”

“Take care.” I smiled until I watched her take her dog inside. Then, I went up the steps to my own front door. I mentally prepared myself to greet my family. I was going to have to be my best self for them and for the students at Van Buren Academy. 

After all, their vice principal needed to look his best. 

And I would. 

As long as April remembered to iron my fucking slacks. 

Tag List: @lordkingsmith, @howdy-writes, @lanawritesalittle, @pertinax--loculos, @kirsten-is-writing, @heytherelindsay, @lukawriting, @alicewestwater, @swimmingbirdrunningrock, @baconkat02, @bottichelli

[stolen-godhood]

What Type of Bender Are You? 

Your Result: Firebender

I can not say I am too terribly surprised, haha. My partners do like to tell me I am awfully hot headed! 

The description is... very long. 

Like I said at the beginning of the quiz, the elements speak greatly to how you approach conflict, inner turmoil, etc, so now how do we define what your element actually says about you? Firebenders are interesting in that they’re the most personally driven of the elements. Where Earthbenders crave stability and Airbenders wish for freedom, Firebenders are driven by their unique desires, binded by their willingness. It’s why we see Uncle Iroh, who’s kind and thoughtful, easily leave the tea shop he was originally working at—where they treated him well—without second thought. Another bender may have been humble, may have favoured loyalty, but firebenders most likely wouldn’t. Inside every Firebender exists a sun that burns brightly and fiercely. A Firebender on a mission is someone you do not want to get in the way of as they are the pinnacle of an unstoppable force. This isn’t to say Firebenders don’t have morals or that they’re always willing to bypass others for anything. No, actually Firebenders are very efficient and selective. They know what’s worth their energy, which fights are worth the trouble. Firebenders, at their best, are best exemplified through, oddly enough, Azula. She’s calculated and as strong as she is, what makes her so threatening is that she knows which fights she’ll win. When Azula enters a battle, it’s on the hypothesis that she’ll claim victory and she typically does. Through her, we can understand that the best Firebenders don’t follow the stereotype of being impulsive. The best Firebenders carefully pick the places they choose to spend their energy on—especially when faced with conflict. Iroh is another example of a Firebender at their best; someone who isn’t impulsive, but someone who works purposefully. Don’t get me wrong. There are impulsive Firebenders. These Firebenders are often struggling emotionally. We see this with not only Zuko during Book 1, but with Azula by the very end of the show. In Book 1, Zuko is impulsive and angry, determined to regain his honour. At the end of the show, Azula has an extreme mental breakdown. Most of the time, these types of benders are repressing something emotionally that transforms itself into volatile anger or just general uncontrollable emotion. That selectiveness found in the best Firebenders is no longer available and the people around them will likely feel the repercussions. They don’t care who sees, they are at their worst and they can no longer hide it. Calculated control is thus an absolute necessity otherwise your fire may turn destructive rather than productive. Once again, Firebending is unique in how personal it is to the given bender, but as Firebenders are driven by their desires, they’re also bonded by their intuition. Firebenders feel it in their gut when something is wrong and they use that as a guide when faced with conflict. Even if everyone around them thinks differently, a Firebender won’t succumb to the pressure without the sense of wrongness eating away at them. This is what I call a Doused Firebender. This is a Firebender who compromises what they really want in favour of appeasing other people or being convinced that what they truly want isn’t right. A good example of this is none other than Zuko in the beginning of Book 3. For Zuko, trauma had deluded him into believing his father’s love and respect would make him happy, but when he seemingly gets everything he wants, he’s still not happy. It becomes apparent then that it’s not actually what he actually wants, what he really believes. He worked on the external problem—his banishment—as a Firebender would, placed all his energy in fixing that, only to find it didn’t fix the internal issue. The determination he’s felt since Book 1, the one that made him impulsive and volatile, then transforms into an innate sense of wrongness. He gets what he thinks he wants, but in doing so, he’s compromised who he really is and what he really wants in favour of what he’s been made to believe is right. This is what leads to his explosion on the beach. It’s quite possible for a Doused Firebender to look like an Earthbender. Earthbenders are quite likely to sacrifice personal wants in favour of a greater sense of order and stability. For Earthbenders, this will never or rarely ever feel wrong to do, but with Firebenders, that sense of wrongness will grow and build inside them until they figure out what they really want or risk imploding or putting their own fire out altogether. Another example of a Doused Firebender would be Daniel Le Domas from the film Ready or Not. Daniel, who’s been raised to follow certain traditions, is shown to be deeply unhappy with his family. While at first he participates and follows the lead of his parents, when it counts, he disobeys them and follows his heart. Fire takes many forms. It can be soothing like a campfire, warming you on even the coldest of nights. It can be a small flame burning on a candlewick, lighting your way. And yes, it can be a destructive wildfire, burning through a forest. Fire is, in the end, dependent on the bender and how they choose to use their energy. I can only caution control and self-assessment for those of you struggling to figure out what you really want and who you are. If you enjoyed this quiz or got any questions, feel free to hit me with that follow (yes, i am a clout chaser) : ig: @uhlocalghost tumblr: lukawriting.tumblr.com ko-fi: https://ko-fi.com/lukawriting Also check out my friends who helped me with this: Raquel - ig: raquelerz Cat - tumblr: katarasocean.tumblr.com

[creepy-crowleys]

What type of bender are you?

Your Result: Earthbender

Yeah, that’s... Not entirely surprising all things considered.

Putting the text under a cut because it is incredibly long.

Like I said at the beginning of the quiz, the elements speak greatly to how you approach conflict, inner turmoil, etc, so now how do we define what your element actually says about you? 

At their core, Earthbenders place a lot of value and importance on stability and order, making them quite likely to make personal sacrifices in order to maintain those things in their lives. The best example I can think of is a parent who takes on a job they may not like in order to better support their family. If that parent is of Earthbending nature, this won’t feel wrong to them. They’ll understand that their own personal wants or dreams are impractical to chase when faced with what is really needed to maintain a sense of security and stability. 

This can be a great thing, but it can also be quite detrimental depending on what the Earthbender associates with order and stability. Earthbenders who associate wealth with stability are likely to remain in a toxic environment longer because finances aren’t a problem whereas if they were to leave, money would potentially be an issue. 

It’s important to know here just how stubborn and enduring Earthbenders are. They’ll do a lot, they can take a lot, so don’t try pushing them around. They’re unmovable forces when they’ve made up their minds. 

This being said, Earthbenders living in unstable environments or who simply feel unstable or out of order, will bend over backwards—perhaps sacrificing their own wellbeing or integrity trying to achieve some sense of it. I call these Fractured Earthbenders. 

An example I have of this would be in Euphoria where Fez and his younger brother are shown as poor and trying to care for their sick grandmother. Fez, who’s kind and has a solid moral code (i.e. refusing to sell Rue drugs), is forced to deal drugs and break into homes in order to take care of his home and his family. He does what he must with what is at his disposal, sacrificing his integrity in order to maintain some stability. Another example would be Daisy in The Great Gatsby, who picks financial stability over Gatsby because she’s not guaranteed the same comforts she gets from Tom. Even though Tom is abusive and cheats on her, Daisy stays with him anyways and it makes sense for her to do so. Other Earthbenders are likely to understand the motives of the mentioned examples and heavily empathize with the idea of destroying important parts of yourself for the sake of something you believe is greater in nature. 

It’s true that Earthbenders can be content with what’s already at their disposal, but notably the best of their kind are those who are resourceful without sacrifice. Where a Firebender will sacrifice anything in pursuit of what makes them happy, an Earthbender looks around them and transforms what’s already there. Toph is a primary example of this. When she’s weighed down by her parents, she sneaks away to fight in the arena. When she’s kidnapped and put in a metal box, she invents an entirely new form of bending. 

They can look like Waterbenders at times because of this great ability, but it’s important to understand the differences. Waterbenders act emotionally with their reactions being impulses and improvisations; Earthbenders are thinkers. They wait and listen, searching for the right moment or opportunity to act. They are progressive as an element, working towards solutions that are innovative and don’t disrupt life. I mean just because earth is a stubborn element doesn’t mean it can’t be creative with what it has. 

This isn’t to say that Earthbenders don’t speak bluntly or make impulsive choices. Toph again is a great example. She schemes, she says what’s on her mind to everyone—except her parents. The conflict Toph faces with her family, a Waterbender would have confronted this issue, placing importance in their immediate emotions, but Toph considers the greater picture. She might feel held down and underestimated, but at the end of the day she’s 12 years old, those are her parents, and they’re much more at ease believing what they want to believe. Yes, she inevitably runs away, but it’s still in favour of greater world order: helping the Avatar and she’s still deeply affected by how she must’ve made her parents feel when she left. Other elements would likely feel the same emotional ramifications but would more easily justify the necessity of their actions (i.e. Sokka and Katara leaving Gran-Gran, Hakoda leaving his children, Zuko becoming a traitor, etc). 

Overall, Earthbenders are thinkers, approaching conflict with the knowledge that they may need to make personal sacrifices in order to maintain stability and order in their lives and in the lives of those around them. If this sounds like you, if you’re an Earthbender, my parting advice to you is to remember to take care of yourself as well. It might not feel wrong to ignore your own needs, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t. Order and stability can also mean making your wants known as communication is always key. As mentioned before, without proper expression, disaster is inevitable. 

If you’re an Earthbender who’s already mastered this, well I’ve got nothing else for you. 

If you enjoyed this quiz or got any questions, feel free to hit me with that follow (yes, i am a clout chaser) : ig: @uhlocalghost tumblr: lukawriting.tumblr.com ko-fi: https://ko-fi.com/lukawriting Also check out my friends who helped me with this: Raquel - ig: raquelerz Cat - tumblr: katarasocean.tumblr.com 

[the-dread-papyrus]

What Type of Bender Are You?

Your Result: Waterbender

NYEH HEH, AFTER READING THE DESCRIPTION I FEEL THIS IS ACTUALLY NOT TOO FAR OFF.

Like I said at the beginning of the quiz, the elements speak greatly to how you approach conflict, inner turmoil, etc, so now how do we define what your element actually says about you? Waterbenders, as a whole, are incredibly emotional beings. Perhaps the most emotional of all four elements. What they say, the decisions they make—it’s all based on what they feel in that moment. This isn’t to say that Waterbenders are incapable of thinking through their problems. They absolutely are, but only after they’ve calmed down. Waterbenders have to work through their emotions internally before they can reach a level-headed decision. We see this most frequently in none other than Katara. As compassionate as she is, Katara has a temper that throughout Book 1 initiates her most powerful bending (at least at the beginning of her training). Throughout the show, especially when her and Toph have their arguments, she is shown reacting like a harsh sudden wave, not considering her words as she typically does. Waterbenders also place an incredible amount of value in their community. They want to take care of the people around them. Now this doesn’t mean that other benders don’t or can’t feel the same; it’s just especially important for Waterbenders. They protect their own first. This is shown across every water tribe. From the Northerners to the Southerners to the Swamp People, they all focus on their own before considering others around them, doing whatever they can to protect the people they care about. Huu crafts a seaweed monster to keep outsiders away. Katara, as Sokka and Aang are being forced to attack each other, sacrifices her own morals in order to protect them and bloodbends Hama. This is what makes Waterbenders stand out. It’s their need to do whatever it takes to protect the ones they love. Other elements can imitate this need, but there are unique factors to each one that could interrupt such a desire. Nothing interrupts a Waterbender. Now, as Earthbenders are progressive, Waterbenders are adaptive. They evolve and change with their surroundings, preferring to go with the flow rather than combat it. It’s important however to note that Waterbenders aren’t always pacifists in this respect. While they willfully respond to change, they’re also incredibly capable of enacting it. Avatar Kuruk even confirms the value of this as his parting advice to Aang is to be attentive and active. However, it is possible for Waterbenders to remain stagnant without a trigger that elicits any form of change. This is seen in the Northern Water Tribe. For generations, they followed the same rules, separating the men from the women, training one side as warriors and the other as healers. It’s only when Katara arrives that this changes. She challenges the system, going so far as to fight Pakku herself, but still this isn’t enough. Not until Pakku picks up the betrothal necklace. This ties back to the loyalty of a Waterbender. Only when Pakku has a personal connection to Katara through her grandmother, does he begin to legitimately consider Katara’s stance. So what happens to Waterbenders without a community, who’ve shut themselves off emotionally? I like to call them Frigid Waterbenders. These are Waterbenders who crave a community, who are inherently emotional, but for one reason or another, they’ve shut themselves off. The community they may have had once is gone or lost, and now it feels like caring for anyone only leads to heartache. A good example of this type of bender can be seen with The End of the F*cking World. James is a traumatized boy who convinces himself that he’s a literal psychopath, that the emptiness he feels is something intrinsic to him. This is until he meets Alyssa. Alyssa quickly becomes his community and he’ll do anything to protect her including getting shot in order to secure her safety. If you believe yourself to be this type of bender, try to open yourself up. Closing yourself off isn’t the solution to your problems. You’ll find your people one day. Water is unpredictable and overall, Waterbenders are emotional beings, approaching conflict with what they feel and this can change. Storms can be weathered and above everything else, the ocean will always be there. It will change currents and so will you, but you will always be there for the people you care about.

If you enjoyed this quiz or got any questions, feel free to hit me with that follow (yes, i am a clout chaser) : ig: @uhlocalghost tumblr: lukawriting.tumblr.com ko-fi: https://ko-fi.com/lukawriting Also check out my friends who helped me with this: Raquel - ig: raquelerz Cat - tumblr: katarasocean.tumblr.com

[mustlovelance]

Title: Operation: Treat Yo Self Series: Voltron: Legendary Defender Pairing: Allura/Lance Word count: ~3000 Summary: It was technically her first mission with only Lance, and she had to admit, she was pretty distracted.  Notes: AO3 link. This is part of a series but can probably be read on its own. 

“Man, I could really go for a spa day after that.”

Lance’s voice cut through the post-battle chatter like a knife. Allura turned, catching him stretching his arm over his head and wincing. Before Allura could even narrow her eyes, Lance spoke up again, louder this time.

“It’s the least we deserve,” he said. “Maybe they have a Hero’s package somewhere? Or Groupon? Does space have Groupon? Hey, Coran, does—”

“I would not be opposed to a spa day,” Allura said. She tucked her helmet against her side. “It would do us well to relax our sore muscles.”

“Do any planets around here even have the concept of a spa day?” Hunk asked. His shoulders slumped forward. “Anyway, I need to repair Yellow before I kick back.”

“I’m working on a new program,” Pidge said. She wrinkled her nose. “Besides, I don’t want anyone touching my feet, thanks.”

“Pidge, the foot massage is always an add-on,” Lance pointed out, a slight whine to his tone. He stepped forward to sling his arm around Hunk’s shoulders. “And Hunk, my buddy, my man, don’t you—”

Allura marched towards Coran, setting her helmet down along the way.   

“Coran, are there any nearby planets that might have spas?” she asked. Coran glanced away from Lance, whom he’d been watching with a dramatically arched brow, and settled his gaze on Allura.

“Quite a few!” Coran said, twirling his moustache. “The planets that we’ve liberated have been able to put resources into recreation again! Spas are quite the popular attraction.”

“Oh, that’s lovely news!” Allura said, clasping her hands together. “So we—” A loud sigh drew her attention towards Shiro, who was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed tight against his chest.

“Princess, I’m not sure we really have time for—”

Allura frowned. Although Shiro had always been very…focused, he’d become dismissive of anything outside his focus nowadays.

“I am aware of our situation, Shiro,” she said. Someone—probably Lance—whistled in the background. “However, it would be remiss of us not to account for fatigue. Besides, I’m sure whichever planet that Coran choose will appreciate our patronage.”

Frankly, she just wanted to feel like a princess—not the kind who strategizes for war, but the kind who gets pampered. Just for two hours or so—she knew that such things were not truly meant for her.

“We can call it Operation Treat Yo Self, to make it like, official,” Lance said. Allura couldn’t stop herself from smiling at him as he sauntered over. Shiro sighed again as he raked his fingers through his hair, but he said nothing in protest.

“Shall we begin this mission in thirty dobashes?” she asked, scanning the team.

“Well, it appears that only you and Lance are going on this mission,” Coran said, dragging out each word as he watched her.

Beside her, Lance let out a strangled noise, and across the room, Pidge started snickering.

“Is…that alright with you, Lance?” Allura asked, giving him a sideways glance. He wouldn’t say no, would he?

“Oh yeah, totally fine,” Lance said quickly. “I’ll just, uh—” He gestured towards the exit with his thumb, walking backwards towards it.  

“Don’t be late!” she called after him. It was at that precise moment that his back hit the wall, at which point he turned on his heel and speed-walked down the hall.

“Oh, brother,” Allura heard Hunk mumble before he trudged out of the room himself with Pidge following close behind him.

--

After Nyraz had been liberated and joined the coalition, it was able to restore its old recreational facilities, most popular being its spas. According to Coran, its spas were enjoyed by a variety of species across the free universe.

“We are most honored to host the princess and her paladin at our spa!” the Nyrazian greeter chirped. She reached Allura’s shoulder in height, but her voice projected very well.  

“Actually, Allura’s a paladin too!” Lance pointed out. “She’s with the Blue Lion—the best of the bunch.” When the alien tilted her head at Lance, her antennae drooped to the opposite side.  

“Aren’t you with the Blue Lion?” she asked. The Nyrazian woman furrowed her brows—or, what Allura assumed were brows, but were more like deep-set…wrinkles?

“No, not anymore,” Lance said.

“But your armor is blue in the shows.”

“I’m with the Red Lion now; I just wear the same armor as before. Blue is my col—”

“I thought that was Keef? The growling one?”

Lance laughed out loud while Allura groaned.

“I apologize for the confusion—the Voltron Shows are not completely accurate to the current team composition,” Allura said.

“I see,” the Nyrazian woman said. Her enormous eyes moved between the two of them. “Well, would you like to visit the sauna before your treatments? We are still setting up your room.”

“Oh, yes, that sounds lovely,” Allura said.

The woman led Allura to the sauna on the right side and provided brief instructions before turning back for Lance. 

Allura unzipped her dress, hanging it up near the exit, and sat down on the bench. The heat was just short of suffocating, and the smell of wood was just strong enough to be pleasant rather than overwhelming.

Of course, if this had been exactly as she liked it, then Lance would be there, sprawled across the bench when he wasn’t leaning over to mess with the rocks, rambling about something cool that Hunk and Pidge were working on or complaining about Keith’s hair or asking her whether Altea had anything resembling a mongoose. The thought brought a smile to her face as she stared up at the ceiling.

However, given her state of undress, she doubted he would have been his usual chatty self. When she’d worn this same bikini to go swimming a few months ago, Lance had stared at the ground and walked straight into a tree. He was the paragon of all bark and no bite, as Hunk liked to say.

Used to bark—he didn’t flirt with her—or anyone else—lately. Allura liked to think it was a sign of maturity, a welcome development, but part of her almost missed it.

Almost.

Allura sighed, sliding down the back of the bench until she was lying down across it. Nonetheless, the quiet was a welcome change. She allowed her eyes to slip closed as she enjoyed the smothering heat.

“Princess—er, Paladin? Princess Paladin?”

Allura recognized the voice as the woman who’d greeted them and led her to the sauna. She pulled herself up into a sitting position and glanced at the exit.

Princess Paladin, huh? She could get used to that one. It certainly went well with her PRINCESS tiara from Blaire’s.

--

As she expected, Lance seemed determined not to look at anything except Allura’s face now that she was in a bikini.

“So, how was the sauna?” Allura asked. Lance, for his part, looked quite nice in his swimming shorts. It reminded her yet again how long his legs were.

“Oh, uh, it was—it was nice,” Lance said. “Real nice. I mean, really nice. Warm. Good. Uh—”

“Let me guess, you spent half the time throwing water on the rocks?” Allura asked.

Although Lance’s laughter still had a nervous edge, it was softer as he replied.

“C’mon, how could I resist?”

When they stepped into the room, two other Nyrazians, more brightly-colored than their greeter, introduced themselves and handed each of them a towel for their hair. Allura had never seen Lance wear a hair towel before, but he put it on without missing a beat. Given all his talk of his beauty regimen, it only made sense that he knew how to do such things even though his hair was short.

“You know, it took my mother so long to teach me how to put that on properly,” Allura said quietly. Lance turned to her and tilted his head. “I used to just run around with wet hair.”

“Oh man, my niece is the same way, actually, except she doesn’t really want to learn,” Lance said. “She likes to whip her hair around and get water on people’s faces.”

“Well, I must say, I did indulge in such antics from time to time.”

Lance’s eyes lit up.

“Ohmygod—please tell me you whipped your hair at Coran at least once.”

“But of course! My father found it very entertaining.”

As Allura approached her massage table, she heard Lance conversing with his masseuse—Rayba. Either their similar appearances and names were a coincidence, or Allura’s masseuse, Cyba, was her relative.

Allura made herself comfortable on the table, letting out a soft exhale as she turned her head to face Lance’s table. As usual, Lance wiggled around a lot before he settled into his own comfortable position. When he noticed that she was looking at him, he offered a goofy smile that made her feel warm.

A light floral scent wafted through the air as Allura heard bottles being popped open. She exhaled slowly just before Cyba’s hands—both pairs of them—began to scrub in the “body polish.”

Allura let her eyes fall shut as Cyba continued her work. These gentle touches only made her more eager for the massage; it would be a relief to get rid of all these knots. 

“Um, Princess Paladin, if you could please just stay still for another moment—”

“Oh! My apologies.”

Allura forced herself to stop squirming. Enjoying the moment was important too, she told herself.

“Princess Paladin, I have completed your body treatment. Are you ready to wash before the massage?”

“Yes!” Allura said, a bit too loud. She could feel Lance’s gaze on her just as clearly as she could hear his chuckling. “I mean, yes. Thank you, and I apologize again for not staying still.”

“Jeez, Allura, you’re pretty psyched for this massage, aren’t you?” Lance asked, hopping off the table and heading back towards the shower on his side of the room.

“I’ve been so tense lately,” Allura admitted. She stepped into her own shower and turned the water on. Although she had a hair towel on, she still tried to avoid letting it get wet as she watched the body polish slide down her legs and swirl into the drain. It looked…sparkly?  

“By the way—” She heard Lance call out to her, loud enough to be heard over the shower. What could be so urgent? There was a pause; Allura wondered if he was asking himself the same question. “The sparkles were my idea!”

…of course they were.

“Thank you, Lance!” she called back.

Moments later, she stepped out of the shower, taking the towel off the rack and drying herself off.

“When did you ask for the sparkles?” Allura asked, walking back to the massage table. Cyba took her used towel and set it aside.

“When that other lady was walking me to the sauna. I was just curious what they had. I mean, this is all alien stuff, so it’s not like my usual picks are here, but I figured sparkly was a safe bet.”

“Indeed it is.” Allura settled onto the massage table, excitement thrumming in her veins. This was the opposite of how she was supposed to feel before a massage, but she couldn’t help it. She’d really needed this.

Those two sets of arms were heavenly as they massaged her back, the perfect amount of pressure in all the right places. Allura couldn’t help but let out a loud hum when one of the knots came loose. It felt like she could breathe again.

Allura opened one eye to glance over at Lance. It was rare to see Lance so relaxed, given how excitable he was. She knew for a fact that he was a deep sleeper and took long hot showers, but she wasn’t privy to such moments of quiet from him. In fact, maybe he sang in the shower—loudly, of course.

Regardless, as comforting as his goofy expressions were, this relaxed one was nice too—smooth, showcasing just how perfect his skin was. She indulged in watching him breathe for a few moments.   

That relaxed expression crumbled, and she heard a wince escape him.

“Oh, I’m sorry—are you alright?” Rayba asked. Lance waved a hand at her, avoiding Allura’s gaze.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m good,” he said. Rayba paused for a moment but continued with her massage, moving on to the next area despite Lance’s assurances.

“Lance,” Allura said.

“Allura,” Lance said. He still wasn’t looking at her.

“Were you injured on the last mission?”

“No—I probably just pulled a muscle or something.”

She sighed. If it had been anyone else, she wouldn’t have been concerned, but Lance tended to hide injuries.

“Can you please tell me next time, even if it’s something minor?”

“I mean, it’s really not a big deal—”

“It’s a big deal to me.”

“Oh.”

An awkward silence threatened to sink its claws into the room, but Allura exhaled and shook her head. There was no use in letting such nonsense ruin their fun.

“If I beat you at Mario Kart under such conditions, it would be a false victory,” she said.

“Does it count as a false victory if you win every time anyway?” he asked, barely restraining his laughter.

“I perform best when I’m playing with you in Double Dash though,” Allura insisted. “You have excellent timing for using the items—especially the bananas.” 

“Man, we shouldn’t be talking about Mario Kart here,” he said. “That’s like, the opposite of relaxing. You taught me ten new Altean swear words last time we played.”

“But it is very fun,” Allura said, pouting slightly. “Besides, there’s nothing wrong with passion, right?”

“You got me there!”  

Allura smiled and let herself drift off, savoring each moment of her massage.

Just before she wondered whether she could melt into the table, and whether that would be a bad thing, Cyba spoke up again.

“Now it’s time for your facial treatment,” Cyba said. Allura rolled over and propped herself up by the elbows, at which point Cyba set a rolled-up towel where her head had been.

During the sponge-cleansing, steaming, exfoliation, and face mask application, Allura couldn’t find an opportunity to speak. Once the face mask had been fully applied, Cyba undid Allura’s hair towel and began to massage her scalp. 

“Man, we gotta get some of these products for the castle,” Lance said. He let out a long, happy sigh. “These are the best tingles ever.”

“I’m certain that can be arranged,” Allura said. “Though, we must consider that your skin glows enough as it is…”

There was that classic strangled noise again—and it was so easy to provoke.

--

“We hope you enjoyed your visit, Princess Paladin and Paladin!” Cyba and Rayba said in unison. They didn’t bow like Alteans and Earthlings did; rather, they spread out both pairs of arms and leaned backwards, letting their antennae droop. At least they hadn’t offered to throw themselves into a fire.

“Yeah, this was awesome!” Lance said. “Thanks so much! And thanks for the gifts, too.” He turned to Allura and grinned, keeping a tight grip on their bag of products. “I’d consider Operation: Treat Yo Self a total success! How about you?”

“We certainly met our objectives.”

Lance reached into his pocket and pulled out his cellphone.

“I’d also consider this a selfie-worthy occasion,” he said, waving his phone between them. “Glow Squad?”

Allura’s lips twitched into a smile. “Glow Squad,” she agreed.

Lance stepped closer to Allura’s side and held out the phone in front of them. Just before he hit the shutter, Allura glanced away from the camera and poked his cheek. 

His skin looked so soft—how could she resist? Besides, it made for a unique photo.

--

Lying prone on her bed with her chin propped up on her hands, Allura watched the mice give a new performance. They had watched the Voltron shows multiple times, and had attempted to recreate their favorite parts.  

“You put our shows to shame,” Allura said, beaming at them. “I wish—”

She wished Lance was lying beside her, providing commentary on the performance. She wished she could find out whether he sang in the shower. She wished she didn’t need to sit up straight whenever she accidentally leaned towards him while they were playing a game. She wished he could show her this “tango” he kept talking about. She wished she could rest her head on his shoulder after yet another exhausting mission. She wished the distance between them would disappear—that they could just pull each other close and…

She wished a lot of things.

Chuchule’s nervous chittering snapped Allura’s attention back to the mice, who stared back at her. Allura sighed, dropping her hands and letting her chin fall to the bed.  

“This is so silly,” she lamented, “but also…frightening.” Plachu scurried over to her, making himself comfortable on her shoulder. The slight pressure encouraged her to continue. “Perhaps it’s a foolish idea. We are in the middle of a war, after all. It’s quite selfish of me to pursue romance at such a time. Besides, I have no idea how any of this works.” When Chulatt raised a paw to his face and widened his eyes, Allura laughed and shook her head.

“No, I can’t ask Coran,” she said. “He would spend hours regaling me with every romance he’s ever been involved in and I would learn nothing useful.” She sighed, counting off with her fingers. “Hunk would tell Lance immediately; he’s incapable of keeping a secret. Pidge wouldn’t be remotely interested. Shiro would call it a distraction. And none of you are exactly romance experts—no offense meant.”

Chulatt, Chuchule, and Platt merely shrugged, but Plachu squeaked into her ear.

“…but maybe I don’t need to understand romance. I just need to understand Lance, right?” Chuchule nodded sagely. “So…I could seek the Blue Lion’s counsel, couldn’t I? She understands Lance best.” More shrugging. Plachu hopped down from her shoulder to join the rest of the mice.

Allura looked at them with determination.

“It’s settled then—I shall speak to the Blue Lion tomorrow.” 

[agentlukaofshield]

Hang a Shining Star Upon the Highest Bough

Merry Christmas @english-fitz! I’m your Fitzsimmons Secret Santa and this is my present to you! I hope you like it!

Prompt: A fitzsimmons Christmas away from home (as in Christmas in space)  

Rating: G

Word Count: 2609

Summary: After Jemma, Fitz, and the rest of the team get taken to the Lighthouse, Jemma tries to plan a Christmas surprise for Fitz. 

↪ Read on AO3

[lukawriting]

suswriting -> lukawriting

for personal reasons, im using an alias now so