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writers-worst-nightmare · 3 years

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Till new flowers bloom (Lance x reader):

Ask: Hey! :D Just saw that your requests are open, so I thought I could tell you one of my favorite fanfic ideas: How about a Lance (from VLD) x Reader fanfic in which he and the reader eventually start dating post-canon. Everything is absolutely perfect, but he’s a unsure about saying the words ‘I love you’ for the first time. Not because he’s unsure about his feelings, but because he doesn’t want to lose another person that he loves. But, with the help of his friends, he eventually finds the courage, arranges an amazing date, and tells the reader how much they mean to him, and promises to protect them with anything he can.

A/N: this was fun to do! I love the idea of a sensitive Lance (almost as much as a sensitive Keith)

Warning(s): the fluff to angst might kill some readers

Pairing(s): Lance x reader

Word Count: 2,579

Request are always open!

Lance and you had been together since the eighth grade in middle school. You guys fit perfectly together, you where more in the calm side of things while Lance was always up and about. You still remember the day that he said he loved you…it was very…well…Lance to say the least…

***

“Y/NNNNNNNNN!!!!!” Lance yelled, phone gripped tightly in his hands, you perked up and cocked your left brow slightly upwards. The brown-haired male rarely talked to you, but you didn’t take it as a offense. You didn’t talk unless it was required to by a teacher or you where in trouble for something you didn’t do (that happened more often then you would think, the shy and quiet kids always get blamed for the things the loud kids do. Always.

“What?” You inquired, leaning back in your chair as Lance propped his phone up on your water bottle and gave you a sly smirk. Your eyes clouded with even more confusion as Lance went on tiktok and started to playing Electric Love.

”Do you know this trend?” Lance asked, you shook your head ‘no’ before lightly humming to yourself.

”No, but the song sounds nice,” you commented slowly. Picking out your words as carefully as a old lady picking out beautiful blooming flowers for her husbands funeral.

“I know it does…” Lance smoothed talked, doing the classic bisexual finger guns as you. You giggled at the boys attempt to get your attention. But just as the song picked up to the chorus Lance pulled you in by the collar of your shirt and kissed you roughly. You tensed up, muscles bunching up in the toughness that held in the kiss. But, soon, you found it to be comforting and relaxed slightly. Lance pulled away from you and smiled brightly.

”I am guessing this means that you like me?” You giggled, staring at Lance as he curled into you and hide his face in the crook of your neck. You felt your body temperature go up slightly as you hugged Lance back and laid your chin on his back.

***

It was short and sweet, anything that somebody could dream of in Middle School. The tiktok bad blown up to massive number and got both you and Lance a following (your followers demanding more Lance x you content, and you happily gave them it). The relationship through half of high school and training pilot school was so sweet. Even when Voltron was formed you guys stuck together likes two peas and a pod.

But one thing differed

One thing stuck out to you

It was always the same thing…

You would sat the words ‘I love you’ and wait for a response

But it never happened. He never responded with ‘I love you too’ or anything. He would just seem happy that you said you loved him and carried on with the day as if nothing happened. The crew started to pick up on slight hints but nobody got it! They would just say that Lance was being nice and shy but you knew the Cuban boy more then anybody. If you had to describe him personality wise ‘shy’ and ‘quiet’ are some words that too wouldn’t use. Lance's personality is very complex, as he has shown several different, often conflicting sides throughout the course of your relationship with him (even in the classmate side of things way back when). He can be very egotistical, cocky, confrontational, and arrogant at times. At other times, he is friendly, kind, reflective, and shows great intelligence. He is usually the first to make light of a delicate situation, either by joking around or flirting. Lance is noted for his poor-timed or vulgar humor at times, noted by him ripping a fart as a joke. Lance's friendly and outgoing personality allows him to connect with mostly everyone (maybe not as much with Keith) despite their many differences. Around girls, however, Lance tends to focus on flirting, sometimes neglecting his teammates. Lance is brave, adventurous, friendly, and free-spirited, often howling like a wild man during his fights and adventures, showcasing his unrestrained love for what he does. However the moments he is able to let go of those feelings are the times he is able to do the most for his team. He can be quite sensitive, reflective, and distant at times when his teammates are not around or when his guard is lowered. Lance is shown to be quite homesick, deeply missing the Earth and desiring to return to his family, reminiscing on the beach near his home, splashing in puddles, and experiencing rainfall. This is one of the few times he appears sad and he is unwilling to let his friends witness it.

He is often impulsive, not very in control of his emotions and often loses the gravity of the team's mission to dreams of glory, praise, and being the center of attention. Lance reacts angrily when Keith doesn't prioritize the shows Voltron is putting on to gain support, and he is easily the most enthusiastic of the Paladins about performing in front of a crowd. Lance tends to get caught up in the way that he sees the world rather than the way things actually are. Because of this, he is noted to be the least perceptive of his team. Lance was the only one fooled by Pidge's disguise as a boy. He also sees many of Keith's comments as insulting or aggressive when Keith does not appear to mean them that way because Lance believes Keith is his rival, and the "rivalry" between them is entirely Lance's own creation. Lance is insecure about his own abilities and placement on the team, and so often acts as though he has something to prove. Lance admits that he doesn't see himself as one of Voltron's best warriors and suggests that he may not be the best choice for a Paladin of Voltron. Contrastingly, Lance often shows a high degree of situational awareness and tactical skill while on missions, as shown when he corrected Keith's errors twice to protect the Balmera from harm from Keith's reckless attacks. When meeting the Blade of Marmora for the first time, Lance pointed out to Shiro that Keith would become angry and attack someone if taken on the mission. While this was most likely said because of his rivalry with Keith, Lance was correct in his assessment of Keith's character, as Keith's antagonistic nature created tension with the Blade when they discovered the knife in his possession.

Following Shiro's disappearance after the temporary defeat of Zarkon, Lance matured rapidly. He became far more serious in his missions and coordinating battles with his allies. During this time, he also lost much of his animosity towards Keith. Although initially desiring to be leader himself, Lance accepted the Black Lion's choice of Keith as Paladin. He becomes a much more supportive member of the team and steps up to take more of a tactical advisor's role, not sugar-coating his criticism of Keith's leadership tactics but supporting him to move forward all the same. Lance's acceptance by the Red Lion as its new pilot echoes King Alfor: acting as a right hand, trusting the Black Paladin to be a better leader than himself in battle, giving assistance when needed, and supporting his friends.

So he would often be the side character that got only a small amount of screen time and often bullies by other characters and the fandom. Although you loved him and all of his moments. Whether he is sad, cocky, sensitive, or doesn’t say the three words ‘I love you’ back whenever you say it.

It was the complete opposite for you

If someone where to describe you they would say that you where sometimes flirty but not as level headed as Lance. You used to be shy but you think that phase has left your body now (as least you hope with dating the one and only Lance McClain). Usually you flirted a lot with Pidge friendship wise and Pidge would always joke about killing Lance and getting together with you. You woud laugh and laugh as Lance fears for his own life in the corner. But other then the teasing with your best friend Pidge a lot of people labeled you as kind and understanding. You where the one to talk Keith out of leaving the moment he knew who is Mother is. Instead he stayed for a little longer. And when Keith left you defended him with your life. Sometimes arguments would burst out in Shiro saying that you cared more about Keith then you any other teammates. And maybe he was right, but you admired Keith in some way. He was the person that did what you didn’t want to do. The one thing that every half-breed thought of doing but never did in the end. When the days where off and you could relax a playful pillow fight would often kick off or you could be seen watching some anime (usually the gore stuff but sometimes you couldn’t help but watch Ouran High School Host Club souly based on the fact that Haruhi was there and it is Haruhi).

Maybe you where the toxic one in the relationship, maybe you needed to fix something and do something right.

“Y/n?” Pidge asked, snapping you out of your daydream and into reality. Sighing heavily you let down your guard and turned back on your mic to reach out to your non-binary teammate.

“Yes Pidge?” You called through the mic of your helmet. The slight grief that you felt for Lance handing thickly in your throat. You might have gotten use to if. Used to the feeling that Lance was never going to say ‘I love you’ in your relationship but it still felt worse then getting knocked down by Zarkon when you had a tom of weapons and he had none.

“Something happened to Lance I need you to—“ Pidge was cut off by the sound of you racing to get the rest of your uniform on. You where at the spaceship of backup was needed, although they rarely ever needed you. So you just wore your helmet (you thought it looked pretty cool). You pulled the purple uniform over your head and rushed into your lion.

“OPEN UP PURPLE!!” You called, clearly in a hurry. You grabbed your purple taser that Shiro had given everyone at the start of the mission and went in the mouth of Purple.

You where the purple Paladin, usually the person who has the purple Paladin is connected to royalty somehow. Everyone wanted to talk about it but you always ignored them when it came up in discussion.

The truth is that you are Zarkon’s child, being raised on the planets and then brought down to Earth when a war happened. You where raised by a old lady who found you left alone in the cold and brought you in. She fed you and kept you safe although she didn’t know what you truly where (she just guessed you where a human like everyone else on Earth). You covered up the marks on your face unlike Keith. You didn’t want to leave yet. You couldn’t leave…if you left then what would Lance do? No, you won’t be like Keith and leave your friends and boyfriend to rot in the spaceship while war goes plundering on like a lighting storm all around you. You may be Zarkon’s kid but you weren’t like him at all. You weren’t like Keith. You were y/n. And if you had to die to prove it, then so be it. Purple halted in front of Red. Your eyes widened as you saw Lance, he looks beaten up to the point of near death. Your breath hitched in your throat as you jumped out of your seat, making sure to grab the first-aid kit and then bang on Purple’s door to open faster.

“LANCE!!!” You screeched when Purple finally opened the door to let you out. Blue was beat up badly also, parts of Blue’s body was falling off and their usually clear crystal blue eyes where now dusty and clouded with thought. You found a gap in Blue and rushed in to save Lance’s life. “LANCE!!!” You exclaimed, going to Lance’s side and shaking him rapidly. Thick tears starting to prick at the corners of your eyes.

“HAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHA SJSNEURKNR AHAHHAHAHA!!!!” Keith howled in laughter. You whipped your head around and stared at the black-haired male. You fumbled with your pocket and pulled out the taser. Soon Lance joined in on the laughing as well. Both of them howling like maned wolves on a full moon.

“What are you two laughing at?!” You huffed, arms crossed and staring at the two boys. Soon the rest of the Paladin‘s arrived. All of them laughing together.

“Come in love…let’s get away from them…” Lance suggested, standing up on his own and taking you away. You didn’t have time to notice it before but now you looked around where you stood and there was a bunch of blooming flowers around the place. A small park where some kids sat at the dark navy blue coated bench and watched in awe at the lions and the two of you like you where some superhero’s flying through the sky.

“Where are we going?” You asked, leaning against Lance’s arm and intertwining fingers with him.

“You will see.” Lance chuckled, you rolled your eyes and started following Lance. Totally embraced in the fact that he was still alive. His scent smelled like the fresh clean breeze and coconut mixed together in the most perfect way.

Soon, the two of you went to a small opening in the park, kids where gathered around and staring at you with excitement filling their eyes. “Y/n! Can you read me a story?” One of the kids begged, the kids had curly blonde hair and round blue eyes. You nodded your head and sat down to pick up the book. You opened your mouth to start resting it to the blonde-haired girl before Lance coughed. You turned around and couldn’t believe the sight in front of your eyes. It was Lance on one knee, a dark purple case in his hands and a warm smile on his face. You looked for any sign of joking or a prank but all you could see was admirable and love for you in his tired dark blue eyes.

“I know this is kind of out of plan, but you know what? I am like that…so…” Lance trailed off, looking into your eyes. You stared at each other in silence before Lance spoke again. “I love you…and I am sorry that I hadn’t said it to you in all these years of us being together…but I hope I will make it up you…so y/n, will you make me the luckiest man on Earth and take this ring…?” Lance asked, pulling out the ring from the box. The ring had a small diamond but in it was a lavender flower inside. On the inner ring it had the lyrics for Electric Love in Lance’s handwriting.

“I guess McClain isn’t that bad of a last name…” You teased. Lance laughed softly before he took the ring into his hands and slipped it on your ring finger as a final say that you two where going to get married soon.

#voltron #vld #lance mcclain #voltron defender of the universe #voltron fanfic #voltron lance #voltron legendary disaster #lance x reader #writing inspiration #writing #fanfiction #writeblr #reference #answered asks #How did I write two thousand words in less then a hour #Idk #I had to do this TWICE because the font messed up #So I chose to be lazy instead #I might edit this later if I feel up to it

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midnightsnyx · 4 years

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Consequences - Matthew Tkachuk: part 7

summary: you absolutely hate Matthew Tkachuk so it’s just your luck when you wind up pregnant with his child.

a/n: we’re near the end! i hope you guys enjoy this part and thank you for reading <3

word count: 2.1k

warnings: none but FLUFF

Part 7

32 weeks

Ignoring tradition, you and Matt decided to have a single baby shower with everyone invited instead of a separate shower and a pamper party. It was more convenient for everyone and one party was less clean up, so bonus. What you weren’t expecting was for so many people to show up. You knew Matt had a big family but you didn’t think so many of them were invited. But, you did give Chantal and Taryn free reign to plan it so really, you shouldn’t be that surprised.

Most of his family was great and you get along with them wonderfully, especially some of his cousins who are around your age. But then there are the older women who are supposed to be mature, yet are giving you dirty looks and whispering things to each other.

It makes you self conscious because you know exactly the kind of things they are thinking and saying. It’s the exact same thing you’ve seen from some of Matt’s “fans”. Comments about how you got pregnant on purpose, and how it’s a shame now that Matt is stuck with you. You knew the comments were just people who were trying to get under your skin but knowing that some of his family and friends might be thinking the same was hurtful.

You do your best to ignore it though and focus on the people who are actually nice to you, answering all the questions they have about potential baby names, what brands you’re using for the baby, and other purposeless things. But the feeling is always in the back of your mind so at one point, you slip into Matt’s bedroom so you can just breathe for a moment.

This, of course, just gives you more time to worry about what people are thinking about you and how they’re judging you and before you know it, you feel like you might cry.

Stupid hormones.

A knock on the door breaks you from your thoughts and you look up to see Matt standing there.

“Hey,” he says quietly, shutting the door behind him and walking over to sit next to you. “you disappeared.”

“Just needed a minute.” You tell him, hoping he doesn’t notice the way your voice cracks but the looks he gives you says you should know better by now.

“What’s going on inside your head?”

You shrug, not knowing how to explain without insulting his family. You don’t want him to think that you don’t like them, but you know he won’t leave you alone until you tell him why you’re upset.

So you try an approach you think he might understand.

“Do you ever feel like you’re being judged?” You ask quietly.

“All the time.” He answers easily. “Comes with the job description.”

“So you understand how it feels.” You say and he raises an eyebrow at you.

“Is that what this is about?” He nudges you. “You can’t possibly think they’re judging you, Y/N.”

“But they are! I see the looks some of your family and friends give me. It’s like they think I got knocked up on purpose.”

He shakes his head. “Who cares what they think?”

“You should care about what they think.” You say slowly, raising an eyebrow at his dismissal. “They’re your family.”

He shrugs. “You’re my family too.”

He says it so casually, so effortlessly and it’s like something just clicks in your brain and suddenly you have this overwhelming want, no need, to kiss him.

And that’s exactly what you do.

He doesn’t move at first when you press your lips to his, almost like he’s unsure about what to do and for a moment, you’re worried that you’ve ruined everything but then his hand comes up and cups your cheek and he kisses you back. You feel like you might melt straight through the bed and floor when he smiles against your lips and it’s absolutely perfect until Brady barges in the room.

“Where’d you guys- oh.” Brady freezes, eyes widening before he smirks. “Oh. I see what’s happening here. I’ll give you two a minute.”

“Brady.” Matt whines, dropping his head on your shoulder. “You’re ruining the moment.”

“Sorry! People were asking where you went!” He starts backing up and winks. “I’ll come up with a cover story. Have fun kids.”

“Brady.”

“Leaving! I’m going now!” He says, darting out the door and shutting it behind him.

Matt lifts his head, resting his chin on your shoulder instead of moving away. His eyes study your face as if he’s searching for any sign of regret but you smile to ease his worries.

“That was nice.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Just nice? I think I can do better than that.”

“Okay, it was better than nice.” You giggle, feeling giddy. It’s a bit of a foreign feeling.

“Kind of overdue, huh?”

You raise an eyebrow. “You been wanting to kiss me, Tkachuk?”

“Oh, just since we met. Y’know, not that long.”

“Matthew.”

“What? I’m serious.” He says and then sighs. “I know I kind of fucked up when we first met. I was a bit of an ass-”

“A bit?” You tease and he gives you a dry look but you know he’s not actually mad.

“Hey, I’m trying.”

“Sorry.” You say solemnly. “Go on.”

He presses his lips together to hold back a smile. “You were funny and witty and kind from what Johnny had told me so I asked him to introduce me. Probably wasn’t the best idea to do it when I was drunk but he’s always had bad timing.” He shrugs. “He’d mentioned that you were fresh out of a tough relationship and I just… I don’t know, I just said the first thing that came to my mind and drunk me thought it was funny. Which obviously, it wasn’t.”

“I know we’ve already kissed-” he points to your stomach. “clearly, but I’d like to think of this as our first kiss.”

You grimace. “That works for me because honestly, I don’t remember much of that night.”

“I must have been doing something wrong, then.” He jokes.

“Guess you’ll have to show me again.”

He grins. “Deal. But first, I’m taking you on a date.

. . .

“I knew he’d come around.” Taryn grins, finishing the last of your makeup. When she heard that Matt was taking you on a date, she begged you to let her help you get ready. You were going to ask her anyway because you wanted to spend as much time with her and Chantal as you could before they went home. It was unlikely you would be able to see them again until after the baby is born and that thought freaks you out because you’re nearly 33 weeks and your doctor told you that you can deliver as early as 37 weeks.

So you only have about a month left to prepare yourself for childbirth. Luckily, Chantal has been so helpful, answering any questions you have and you feel so blessed that you have her to help you through this.

“I knew it was coming too.” Chantal says from her spot on the bed. You’re half certain you saw tears in her eyes when you told her that Matt had asked you on a date but you cried too so you can’t make fun.

“You guys have been hoping for this, haven’t you?”

Chantal shrugs and hides a smile. “Maybe.”

Taryn nods. “The way you two look at each other totally gives away your feelings. It’s weird seeing Matt like that.”

“Like what?”

“Nice. Honestly, a little unsettling.”

“Taryn.” Chantal scolds and the youngest Tkachuk raises her hands.

“I’m joking.” She mutters. “Kind of.”

Chantal just sighs but smiles when she looks at you.

“You look beautiful, sweetheart.”

Your face turns pink from her compliment but it does mean a lot knowing that Matt’s mom approves of you despite the unusual circumstances. You know that some parents might have had reservations about the situation you and Matt are in but Chantal and Keith treated you with nothing but respect and kindness since the start of this and you will forever be grateful.

“Well, you’re all done.” Taryn says, stepping back to admire her work. “You’re going to knock his socks off.”

“Even being 8 months pregnant?” You ask hesitantly.

“Especially being 8 months pregnant.” Chantal assures you.

Her assurance makes you feel a little better but when there is a knock on the door, you’re suddenly extremely nervous.

“Come in!” Taryn yells and Matt pokes his head in with a grin on his face. When he looks at you, his eyes go wide and mouth drops a little.

He stutters over his words which makes you feel better.

“Cat got your tongue, Tkachuk?” You ask, trying to hide the pleased look on your face.

He shakes his head and grins, walking over and taking your hands in his. “Just admiring how beautiful my girl is.”

“Your girl? Awfully presumptuous.” You joke but your heart warms at his words. You can hear Chantal literally awe.

Matt just grins and leads you out of the apartment and to his car. He even opens the door for you and you raise an eyebrow but don’t comment.

“Do I get to know where we’re going?” You ask when he slides in the drivers seat.

“Nope.” He says, sending you a sly grin.

You know it’s pointless arguing with him so you just smile back and rest your head on the seat, watching out the window until you reach your destination.

. . .

Matt knows you better than you thought because instead of bringing you to a fancy, high end restaurant, he brings you to a small but cute diner the two of you frequently go to. He knows it’s your favourite and it make you happy knowing that he notices small things like this.

“This okay?” He asks once the two of you are seated. He looks a little nervous and you want to get rid of any worries that he has.

“It’s perfect,” you assure him. “I love it.”

And you, you nearly say and you almost fall out of your seat at the realization.

Do you love Matt? You care for him deeply, that’s not a question and you know your feelings for him have been shifting lately. The kiss proved that, but were you confusing love, with infatuation? Or were you starting to actually have those feelings for him?

The better question is whether it’s a good idea to let yourself have these feelings right now because while this is nice, the two of you are about to be parents and any strong feelings like that can make things messy, especially if Matt doesn’t feel the same way.

You know you’ll have to acknowledge and deal with these feelings soon but for now, you let yourself enjoy the night, stealing fries off Matt’s plate while he pretends not to notice and arguing playfully about baby names.

It’s a problem for another night.

......

a/n: i wanna be like OH WE GOT THE FIRST KISS but technically this isn’t the first kiss because, well, you know

#matthew tkachuk imagine #matthew tkachuk imagines #matthew tkachuk fanfiction #matthew tkachuk #nhl imagines #nhl fanfiction #hockey fanfiction #hockey imagines #calgary flames imagines #calgary flames fanficton #allies writing

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lilflowerpot · 4 years

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Soulmate AU where the marks on one person's skin show up on the other, but obviously they can't understand each other's writing, so Keith mostly just tries to express himself through art instead. So naturally, when he starts investigating the Blue Lion he starts drawing THAT too. Which is why, when Voltron shows up, Lotor is Dead Certain that the blue paladin is his soulmate, and he desperately tries to force himself to fall in love with Lance even while he's like "... Really? THIS guy?"

Lotor’s soulmate is not illiterate, but they may as well be. He’s compared their careless scrawl against every language in the Imperial data banks - thrice! - and it’s simply... not there.

“They’re a primitive,” Ezor nods sagely from where she’s half draped over his shoulder, eyeing the illegible lettering on his wrist with an entertained curl to her lips, “must be. Guess the universe wanted to counterbalance all your insufferable braininess.”

When Lotor shrugs her off with a snarl, she has the audacity to laugh.

Acxa’s kinder, or she tries to be, comforting him with the notion that if his soulmate is a primitive, they’re at the very least an educated one, or better yet of a more evolved society wherein knowledge of scripture is commonplace, so... they’re not feral.

Zethrid seems to half wish that they were, if only for the thrill of it.

“And the sex,” Ezor tacks on with an evil little grin, “the sex would have been fantastic.”

Her soulmate’s raucous glee drowns out any further discussion of the topic.

So they can’t communicate, not with words, but if Lotor’s soulmate is anything it’s tenacious (and the Prince can’t help but admire that). They come to the conclusion that pictures are the way to go, painting Lotor’s forearms with a veritable rainbow of quadrilaterals, each containing varying stripes and symbols, and then a series of dotted squiggles that Lotor is beginning to recognise as their approximation of a question.

The problem being he doesn’t actually know what it is that they’re asking.

There’s one rectangle - the majority of which is striped red and white, with a one contrasting quarter of stars in a blue sky - that his soulmate keeps coming back to, and Lotor realises it must be a clan symbol of a sort, indicative of their own people and culture, but... once again scouring Imperial logs turns up nothing of import. Frustrated, Lotor practically carves the hateful Imperial emblem into his palm with jagged lines of ink - Vrepit Sa - and turns in for the night.

In the morning, his arms are wiped clean.

They stay that way for a quintent.

Two.

On the third, he hears back, and it rocks his entire world view.

Kraliept Sa.

The lines are careful, deliberate, as if someone unfamiliar with the old scripture had taken great pains to transcribe that singular character, and Lotor quite simply can’t believe his eyes, because that would mean... that would mean that the only two things he knows of his soulmate are in direct contrast with one another: the first being that they are completely isolated from the Empire, and the second more impossible yet, that they have ties to the Blade of Marmora.

They continue this way for almost a decaphoeb, and it’s not perfect, but it’s something.

Lotor sends renderings of the stars, his ship, Kova, and in return his soulmate replies with sketches of the animals and sunsets and vast expanses of desert on an alien world.

One evening, they blur blues and greens into a perfect little marble on the inside of Lotor’s knee, an arrow pointing to one of the green patches labeled with a sequence of characters that the galra Prince is beginning to recognise as his soulmate’s name - though he can’t so much as begin to guess at how they might be pronounced - and so on the opposite knee Lotor paints Daibazaal, and then, because that feels inadequate, smears his thumb through the centre of the planet he no longer calls home, doodling a battalion of ships leaving the wreckage in a mass exodus, the children of an orphaned world.

And once more, his soulmate falls quiet.

It’s almost a full phoeb until they reach out again, and when they do Lotor finds them franctic, frightened, their little blue-green marble only the beginning; an entire solar system follows, complete with details such as what Lotor assumes must be an accurate number of moons on each planet for how deliberately they’re marked out, and then-

A ship.

It’s small and unassuming and positively archaic in design, but it’s a ship nonetheless, and as Lotor watches, his soulmate draws and erases and re-draws that same design until it’s traveled the length of his leg - thigh to ankle - and ‘lands’ on an unassuming moon of the most distant planet. They circle it with agitation, jabbing whatever implement they’re using to mark their own skin so violently that Lotor’s quite sure they must bleed under the force of it, but he doesn’t know what to say, let alone know how to say it if he did.

The next morning, his soulmate’s mural has gone.

The phantom ache of it remains.

They call him Champion.

Lotor only takes interest because of the timing, because of the circumstance, because it’s Sendak’s fleet that located these new lifeforms on a desolate moon in some distant corner of the universe, and of all Zarkon’s commanders he most of all has something of a reputation for toeing the line between cruelty and outright sadism.

The odds are one in a million, but that’s not a risk Lotor is willing to take.

He paints an obnoxious criss-cross of colour onto his own face that will be impossible to hide or mistake for anything other than what it is, and sends his generals to ascertain whether the Champion or either of the two lifeforms that accompanied him - soon to be subject to the work camps - share the mark.

They don’t, not one of them, and so Lotor chalks it up to coincidence and moves on.

Finding what could almost be mistaken for the legendary Blue Lion on the back of his hand only for Voltron proper to re-emerge into the universe after thousands of decaphoebs with the Champion himself allegedly at the helm, is not so easily written off.

And this time, when his soulmate abandons him to cold silence, it feels final.

Thayserix was very much a spur of the moment decision, but Lotor has never been so glad of such impulsivity as he is now, with the blue Lion of Voltron having been stolen from the thick mists and safely in his grasp.

Though, it’s not the lion that interests him.

Yes she’s a beautiful beast of considerable power, but in this case it is quite literally what’s on the inside that counts, that being of course Lotor’s soulmate... or so he’d thought.

Princess Allura of Altea cannot be them.

At least he certainly hopes not.

She’s lovely, in theory, but they’ve been in a stalemate for the past varga with her sullenly refusing to so much as consider entertaining Lotor’s attempts at hospitality, let alone conversation, and instead quite stubbornly standing with both her guard and weapon raised.

“I really would simply like to speak with-”

“Release me.”

Her end of things has consisted solely of those two words, and the monotony of it all really is growing rather tiresome.

Narti saves him from another repetitive bout, slinking into his mind and whispering that the rest of Voltron have located them far more quickly than Lotor would have thought possible.

The worst part is he’s almost grateful.

“Very well,” he growls, temper wearing thin, “your friends are here to collect you Princess, perhaps they will be more amenable to a little tête-à-tête, hm?”

They are not.

“Release Allura,” is the first thing to pass the dark-haired Paladin’s lips, teeth bared and tongue sharp, and it takes everything Lotor is not to simply concede on the spot.

“Frankly, I would love to,” he spits, gratified by how completely this blindsides the lot of them, every face on the holoscreen struck blank by his immediate compliance. “I do not believe she is the individual I am looking for, nor does she seem inclined to assist me in locating whosoever is. Answer my questions, and you are welcome to her and the blue Lion both.”

“We... We are?” It’s an older gentleman who speaks up, the only other altean among them.

“Absolutely,” Lotor hisses, and then graciously concedes: “the mistake was mine. I simply wished to open a dialogue with who I had assumed to be the blue Paladin, but as she is of a background that would doubtless have allowed us to communicate in galra script, that no longer seems the case.”

Their group look like they’re going to ask him to further explain what must sound to the lot of them nonsense... all except the black Paladin whose eyes have gone wide on some personal revelation, whispering “you,” as if he can’t believe his ears, only to spit out an obscenity before repeating himself with all the fury of an imploding star. “You!”

There are several exclamations of “Keith-!” as those violet eyes narrow to slits, the man smacking his hand down and cutting their com-line dead.

Ezor, helpful as ever, mumbles: “Well that went well,” quiet enough that it’s almost as if she doesn’t mean for everyone in the otherwise silent cockpit to hear her.

For the first time in ten thousand decaphoebs, the black Lion is - technically - in Imperial hands.

Lotor couldn’t care less.

The man who strides out of her is a veritable firestorm, all dark brows and snarling lips, and in a heartbeat Lotor knows, he just knows, who he is.

What he is.

Galra, for one, almost certainly a hybrid like Lotor - it’s the eyes that betray him, half luminescent with rage - and there’s a gorgeous poeticism to that.

Reckless for another, and behind him from where she’s been brought to stand witness, Princess Allura is clearly horrified to see her companion step from Voltron’s keystone and leave it completely unprotected, but the Paladin doesn’t seem to care, and neither does Lotor.

“Release Allura,” he growls again, voice like thunder and just as electrifying as he storms across the landing bay without hesitation, not even stopping to glance in his fellow Paladin’s direction and affirm that Zethrid has, in fact, released her as instructed.

No, Lotor’s soulmate simply fists pale fingers into paler hair and hisses, “fuck you,” into his mouth before kissing the Prince senseless.

Later - much, much later - Lotor is pleased to report back to Ezor that the sex is, in fact, fantastic.

#sorry/not sorry I wrote an entire ficlet thing but this was just TOO GOOD #this is totally self-indulgent but like.. if that's not the point of fanfiction then idk what is #one day I will actually write out a keitor soulmates au in full but today is not that day #so for the time being you will have to content yourselves with this #sa screams back #keitor #other aus #ficlet #prince lotor #keith kogane

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raypakorn · 3 years

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gif maker appreciation tag: skamverse edition

tagged by @earthlingeliott, thanks tag ellie, you know i’ll happily scream about wonderful content creators. i tried to put stuff i haven’t already reblogged from other appreciation posts i have seen. also i will likely take some time to go through my blog and reblog other stuff that i have liked so as to not make this post hella long 💛. and @yaraaimsakul this was a very beautiful idea - you did it from a place of love and that’s what matters.

rules: answer these questions and tag anyone you’d like (gif maker or not!) to help spread the appreciation. if you’re not a gif maker, ignore the first part

if you’re a gif maker...

a gifset you’re really proud of:

a gifset of your favorite remake:

a gifset that you wish would get more notes:

a gifset where you tried something new:

spread the love!

a gifset of your favorite remake: oh boy....sorry this is like near impossible to choose one...so we’ll start with one that lives rent free in my head and it’s this sobbe set, any time i see it, it just takes my breathe away and i just gotta stare at it for a while. this sobbe set brought me to tears twice. then there’s this wtfock set that is just so pretty and makes me feel all sorts of things with us half way through the final season. honorable mention to this moyo/robbe split gif because the coloring is just so pretty.

a gifset of a remake you haven’t watched/don’t like/isn’t your favorite: i will scream all day about the way i love sana/elias relationships and this imane/idriss set gives me lots of feelings. then there’s this friendship set that i thought was beautiful and absolutely love the quote. then there’s this spiderwitz/kieutou set that was rather different but really cute! and finally this even set, the coloring and layout is just everything.

a gifset with a cool layout: i feel like everyone has really stepped it up on their layout game and it’s been really fun to see. something real different is this elu comic book set , honestly couldn’t imagine the time it took keith to put that together. but something recently is this youmina set as it took me out. @sanderxrobbee has actually been doing a lot of interesting things and definitely love her yasmina’s season episode sets she’s been doing as well.

tag someone who does beautiful coloring: @mirroroferisedx! i scream about her coloring all the time because it’s so recognizable. don’t ever have to look at the op and i know it’s agatha’s. but other coloring royalty include - @alinok , @yasminasrobbe, @nyttvera, @tsjernobyl , @birthdaysentiment , @beqhairat , @sanabakkoushd, and becca (miss her)

tag someone who inspires you to make gifsets: well i don’t really make serious gifsets....but @hidden-joy is always my biggest cheerleader when it comes to trying stuff out with that or edits. though i feel like all my mutuals are rather supportive and it means a lot coming from them because they’re all immensely talented individuals that leave me in awe everyday.

tag someone who you’ve discovered recently: @kieumyvuz , another person who has very pretty coloring and never seems to fail to miss with it.

tag someone who you’ve admired for forever: uh pretty much most of my mutuals sfkjsdkf like wasn’t even sure why half of them started following me back. i do admire @tsjernobyl’s dedication though (among other things about her but we’ll keep this to giffing because otherwise this paragraph would get longer than need be as i am an emma fan blog sjskdkd) but even if she knows notes aren’t going to happen, she has no problem putting anything out for the fandom or even filling requests. she’s also generally pretty fast about it.

tagging everyone mentioned + @sandersdocs, @sander-klaas, @unhappilysane, @letisnotonfire, & anyone else who’d like to show themselves and other gif makers some love. 💛

#seriously everyone in this fandom is immensely talented #and the fact that yall like to share it with everyone else is a true blessing #i hope all content creators know how much they are appreciated because it’s somewhere we can all turn to escape the reality of life #so if you make gifs/edits/fanart or if you write i am giving you a kiss on the forehead #maybe the entire fandom doesn’t appreciate your work but i can assure you at least one person does and you make their day brighter #so keep creating because what you make is beautiful #tag games

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ryik-the-writer · 3 years

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THE AUDACIOUS STORYBROOKE MIRROR ADVICE COLUMNIST (WEDNESDAY PAPER EDITION) In which Lacey French is a smutty advice columnist for the Storybrooke Mirror.

Ch. 3: Lacey proposes a team-up and bantering ensures

A03

Gold tried to bury his guilt as he paced around his home, desperate to get his conversation with Lacey French out of his mind.

He shouldn’t have said what he said. He hadn’t meant what he said. But that hardly mattered; he’d realized that the second he saw the hurt on Lacey’s face.

That was hardly the way to act around someone he’d been in love with for years.

But he was a coward, he knew this in his bones. The word had been thrown at him for decades, by his abusive parents, his fellow soldiers during his day in the service, even his ex-wife.

It was odd, the way a word follows one around like bad gum on ones shoe. It was even stranger how true it became after a while.

“What are we going to do about this?”

He should have told her there and then what they could do about it. He could have let her into his house, offered her a cup of tea and explained the email he sent her in a drunken daze, as well as the feelings behind it.

But instead he’d snarled his teeth and turned her away, as he seemed to do everyone.

Few could phase through the icy wall he surrounded himself with. Jefferson Hatter, a local tailor, Gold’s occasional business partner and certified nutter, would walk through glass if provoked, and would climb that wall to get to Gold when he felt like it, namely his liquor cabinet, but kept his distance just the same.

Then there was David Nolan, Storybrooke’s “nice guy” who tried to be friends with every single person in town. However a kind word or a hello when their paths crossed in town was as far as he would go, as he knew the consequences of getting too close to the town monster.

There were a few others, tenants who had polished records of getting their rent in on time, and thus were civil, abet a bit cold.

Truth was, Gold didn’t know how to let people in. What could he do with other people, let alone a beautiful creature like Lacey French?

Pushing her away was the logical thing to do, he decided as he began straightening up his living room. He even nodded to the idea.

She’d forget about him, find some striking fellow who deserved her, and he could go back to admiring her afar, after he completely disconnected his email, that is.

It was the perfect decision, he thought, and would set off a lifetime of silence, but it would be worth it to spare Lacey from his sting.

He thought the decision final until there was another, very familiar knock on the door, and a new course of fate was struck.

He was shocked to find Lacey back at his door, not even half an hour after he sent her on her way.

“Miss—“

“Zip it,” Lacey ordered, and Gold found his tongue heavy as lead.

Lacey examined him again, noting how she met his eyes in her heels. The extra height gave her a boost of confidence. She feared Gold as much as she feared Keith Nottingham or Sydney Glass, but Gold had a bit more leverage on her livelihood. Not to mention, with all that he had revealed with the email, there was a softness there she didn’t want to harm.

She’d come for his help, after all, not further put a strain between them.

She’d even let go of his earlier comment, only if he helped her, that is.

“Look,” she began. “Let’s start over from earlier. Thanks for the email, I thought it was cute, blah blah blah.”

Gold gripped his cane. “Your point?”

“It’s…the kind of material I need.” Lacey admitted, feeling woefully embarrassed to admit her own lack of skill. “And I was wondering if, possibly, you could do it again.”

“Do…what again?”

“Write another email, one’s that sensational but clean, and give or take 100 words.”

Gold stared at her, honestly unable to grasp her concept of thought.

“Are you asking me to write for the paper?” he inquired, the question coming out as a cruel scoff.

“No,” she shot back. “Not exactly…” she huffed, hating him. “The truth is I can’t write fluff, but I need a fluff piece for Wednesday’s paper … and you seemed to have that skill.”

A dark smirk tugged at his mouth.

Push her away.

“So your telling me you can’t do your job, Miss French,” he laughed, and his heart clenched as he watched her cheeks burn. “Your incompetence is not my problem.”

He started to close the door, believing the cruel words would be the end of the situation, but Lacey’s heeled shoe stopped him.

She leaned into him now, her blue eyes colder than the iceberg that struck the Titanic.

“Look, you pompous, little shit of a man,” she growled. “You can help me, or –“

“Or what?” Gold yelled. Instinctively, he fought off all threats, even if they came from the woman he currently had a burning fondness for. “You have no power over me, dearie. But me, I can have you homeless with the click of a pen, so I suggest you find someone else to pawn your duties onto.”

Lacey gulped. He’d revealed her one fear in all this. He could take so much from her, true. Losing her apartment could lead to her losing her job under the right circumstances, not to mention staying with someone with a space the same size as hers.

But somehow, Lacey didn’t see the frothing landlord intertwining with the love-struck admirer who sent her the email.

She try one more thing, and then she’d quit, she promised.

So she smirked and placed a hand on her hip, the same pose she took whenever she turned down Keith Nottingham or had to go head to head with Sydney.

“You’re not going to do shit,” she said, watching in glee as Gold’s expression changed to a flabbergasted one.

“I beg—“

“You have the hots for me, Gold,” she continued. “I have the proof on laptop. You’re not going to throw me on the street, not now.”

They were both quiet following Lacey’s observation, but the latter only hoped it was a correct one, and Gold didn’t call Sheriff Graham to cart her away.

Thankfully, Gold’s tight posture relaxed. She’d called his bluff, and now he was putty in her hands.

“Very well, Miss French.” He sighed in surrender. It would be her heart too, he decided.

“So, will you …” she trailed off, staring at him half-hopefully.

It wasn’t a good idea, he thought, but he had no leverage on her now. Nothing to scare her of push her away.

So he did the only thing he could do: he rolled his eyes and stepped aside.

Lacey shrieked in delight, practically dancing past him into his prison and sanctuary.

She gave a whistle at the first glance of his abode.

“Not bad,” she commented.

“I don’t need your input on my decorating, dearie,” he sighed. “Just…show me what you want.”

Lacey help back a dirty comment and instead inquired the whereabouts of his computer.

Gold slowly led her to his study, his face heating up when they went past his bedroom.

His computer was still on, humming away. Gold quickly closed his email, seeing Lacey smirk out of the corner of his eye, and stepped aside.

“Your turn,” he said.

Lacey popped her fingers and swirled his chair around, logging into her work email where dozens of inquiries on love and sex awaited.

She scrolled longingly past them to three of the tamer ones, including one she’d received an hour ago and hadn’t read yet. She opened them in new windows and eased back so Gold could see the screen.

“This is what I have to work with,” she sighed. “Help.”

Gold scoffed and leaned in as closely as he could without touching her. He swiped his glasses off the table, putting them on and glancing at each email, his attention getting particularly grabbed by the newest one.

“Dear Racy Lacey,” Gold read. “I recognize that this is hardly your expertise, but I’m not sure who else to turn to. I just found out a woman I once loved very much has passed away in my home country, and I’m torn whether to go to the funeral or not. Our separation was not a pleasant one, but there was still a great deal of love on my end. I know she must have built an entire life after us, and I don’t wish to infringe on her family’s grief, but I feel I must face this, less I regret it forever.

Please, Racy Lacey, what should I do?

Signed, Wooden-hearted Widower.

Gold and Lacey were quiet for a moment, the weight of the seriousness of the email hitting them both.

Lacey, of course, knew that the message was sent from Marco Booth, Storybrooke’s most notable carpenter and friendly face.

He was also known for being able to cook a mean Italian dinner and having a shaky relationship with his only son. He was an open book, or so Lacey thought. He must be comfortable revealing this part of his life to the public, even if only some of the town’s more investigative residents would catch on who the email originated from.

Still, why write her?

It was rare to not see him with Jimminy Cricket, the town shrink, a much more perfect candidate for this sort of subject.

“Maybe they’re too close.” She wondered allowed.

Gold looked down at her. “What?”

“Nothing,” Lacey waved him off. “What do you think, can you do something with this?”

Gold relaxed on the sofa near his desk, musing on the subject as Lacey swirled the chair to face him, anticipating his answer.

“Remind me again why you can’t do this yourself, your job at that?”

Lacey groaned. “Come on, Gold.”

He smirked lightly, taking her misery as a nice little slice of payback.

“Humor me, Miss French.”

“Gods,” Lacey cursed, leaning down so she could stare at the floor rather than his face (which was decently framed by his reading glasses, she dared added.)

“I’m not good with the fluffy stuff,” she relayed.

Gold frowned. “A man losing the love of his life hardly seems like “fluff,” as you say.”

“I mean the stuff outside of my expertise, romance and…”

“Sex,” Gold stated bluntly, pretending the very word itself didn’t affect him.

“Yep,” Lacey chuckled with a glance his way. “Giving people deep, meaningful advice on matters outside of that just doesn’t work for me. I don’t really know why but I don’t want people to get bad advice because of my…” she looked at him again, this time with a touch of malice. “Incompetence.”

Gold’s gaze waivered, ashamed for his earlier reaction.

“So, that’s why I need a bit of help, and no, I can’t go to one of my co-workers because it would look like I’m shrugging off my job.”

Gold nodded. Her motives were fairly innocent, and not too concerning. And to be fair, she could have done worse. Gold would admit that he did have quite the vocabulary, and could meet her requirements.

It was the emotional aspect of the job she was asking of him he feared he couldn’t handle.

Years of keeping so much emotion inside was dangerous. He was a boiler ready to blow, and she was the last person he wanted to see him in that state.

“So…” Lacey shrugged. “That’s my problem, Gold. What do you think?”

He thought, despite the risks, this was a golden opportunity, if you pardon the pun. He’d finally be able to spend time with her, truly get to know her, and test to see if these feelings of his were true or just a passing phase. Eventually, he would spare them both a good deal of grief.

He sighed. “Let’s form a rough draft and go from there.”

“Yes!” She yelped, spinning in his chair. “I owe you big!”

“We’ll see,” he replied, hiding his grin. “Now get serious.”

“Serious,” Lacey repeated, opening an email to herself to start typing.

“Back straight,” he ordered. “Legs uncrossed.”

“For Gods’ sake,” Lacey groaned.

“Focus,” Gold ordered, standing just behind her. “Now type after me. Dear Wooden-hearted Widower…”

“Dear Wooden-hearted Widower,” Lacey repeated in a childish tone.

Gold glared at her for a moment before continuing.

“It’s my barely expert advice that you stick to familiar lands and not take the trip—“

“First off, up yours,” Lacey hissed. “Secondly, what the hell do you mean he shouldn’t take the trip?”

Gold rolled his eyes. She was too young to understand the true pain of lost love, and too inexperienced to realize when it was appropriate to take a step back.

“Would you have him scratch at scars or heal on his own?”

“I’d have him face his demons and make peace!” Lacey fought back. “Running away from ones problem doesn’t do anyone a damn bit of good!”

“You asked for my help and I’m giving it to you. Write what I say or do it yourself.”

Lacey groaned, feeling cornered, and Lacey French snarled and bit and clawed when she was in a jam.

But this was a strategic battle, one she’d end up losing in some capacity, but she was striving to win gracefully no matter what.

“How about we meet in the middle?”

“What middle do we share?” Gold asked.

“We tell him to go and...stay guarded, I guess.”

Gold rubbed a hand over his face. He shouldn’t have agreed to this. Of course he and Lacey had completely different mindsets. She had a shred of humility, his had burned to a crisp years ago.

“If he goes to her funeral, he’ll only be hurt,” Gold concluded, leaning against his chair as he willed away thoughts that needed to remain buried.

“After all, there’s no greater pain than regret.”

Lacey watched him carefully, seeing that softer side that most of the town was certain didn’t exist.

Maybe this was too much for him. For all she knew he had some deep, dark past that was threatening to overtake the present.

She wasn’t one to get circulated in someone else’s business or to gossip openly, but damn she’d love to peak into his mind, into his past.

However, she had a job to do. One of the first things she was taught about journalism-wise was to distant herself emotionally from the subject. It made the job a lot easier.

“He’d regret things a lot more if he didn’t go,” Lacey commented. “Maybe it’s better to rip the band aid off.”

Gold accepted this, but held onto his restraint.

“He needs to be careful.”

“Let’s go again,” Lacey said with a snap of her fingers. “This time let’s be a bit more positive.”

Gold let out a rude noise but relented.

“Dear Wooden blah blah blah,” Lacey read, pausing to let Gold jump in.

“Should you…” Gold began, changing his mind. “You should pursue this endeavor with caution, as the past has a way of taking over the present if you become too engulfed in it.”

Lacey matched his words, listening with interest to his advice.

“Don’t expect a warm reception or even a lukewarm resolution…”

“That’s a little harsh,” Lacey muttered.

“However, you should expect to leave in peace, and I indorse planning your trip with this in mind.”

Lacey finished typing and waited for him to continue, but Gold went quiet. When she looked at him, he had a contempt look on his face, considering their work finished.

Lacey hummed and turned back to the computer.

“Good luck to you have a safe trip back.”

“No,” Gold spat. “Don’t add such a treacly ending like that. It’s tacky.”

“It shows we give a damn.”

“It’s out of place.”

“Oh my gods!” Lacey whined, typing out her signature and then sending the email to Cruella while Gold protested behind her.

“Well that’s just lovely, and incredibly dowdy,”

“It’s fine,” Lacey scoffed. Damn he stressed too much.

Gold snarled, muttering something about incompetence and newspapers.

“Fine, are we done?”

Lacey spun in his chair, giving him the same look she would give Glass when she was getting scolded.

“Come on, this wasn’t so bad.”

“You’re right, it was downright terrible, but it’s over now. I’ll see you out.”

Lacey frowned. She’d go with dignity, but not until she spoke her mind.

“You have the funniest way of charming the chick you have the hots for.”

Gold slapped the top of his cane. “Would you stop saying that, it’s unbecoming.”

Lacey clucked her tongue. She had him now.

“What would you call it then?” she challenged.

“Miss French—“

“Lacey, and just humor me.”

Gold wished the floor would give way. It was a miracle he was able to think though Lacey’s column with her being within five feet of him. Now he had to bear his soul to her in his own study.

“I would call it an attraction,” he admitted, hoping she’d leave before he could be truly humiliated.

“So yeah, you have the hots for me.”

“I like to think it’s a bit more than that.”

Lacey smirked, her lip running over her lip. She’d had men flaunt over her before, but this somehow was more genuine, more real. To have those affections come from someone as stoic as Gold was truly interesting.

It was flattering, though she wasn’t sure how to feel in return. Probably best to stick to the business arrangement for now.

But that didn’t mean they couldn’t have a spot of fun in the meantime.

“How about a drink?” Lacey suggested.

Gold’s stomach flipped at the idea of alcohol. “It’s one in the afternoon.”

“So what, we need to celebrate,” she said, sauntering to him. “To our new relationship.”

Gold twitched, flustered at her closeness. “Relationship?”

“Well, after this I’m sure Glass will want me to do one of these once in a while, which means I’ll have to come back for your … assistance.”

Gold almost choked on his own gulp. So much for keeping her at distance.

“Gold,” she sighed, wrapping his free arm in hers and leading him downstairs. “I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”

#rumbelle fic #rumbelle #golden lace #lacey french #rumplestiltskin #ryik's fics

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ciceroisthefamilycat · 3 years

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The conclusion to the VA/BL reread with Silver Shadows and Ruby Circle (here’s the post on FH, here’s the post on the VA closers SB and LS)

I think I forgot to emphasize this in the last post: it is bullshit that Adrian still had the Alchemist-paid-for apartment after the events of “TFH” and only becomes more unbelievable that Trey has it still in “SS”... I do not get it

Like with SB and LS, I would make a lot of plot changes in the adaptation.

Silver Shadows

Fun fact: her golden lily on this book cover actually flashes a little gold in the right lighting, and I love that

This one, especially the majority of Sydney’s stuff in the first half or so of the book, was much better than I remembered.

Adrian’s stuff had me far less forgiving. I realize he’s struggling with a fictionalized elevated form of bipolar disorder and he developed addictions in trying to self-medicate over most of his adolescence/early adulthood so far, but as far as his actions go... the part where he blackouts for something like three weeks while in Sydney’s chapters she’s so certain he’s going to rescue her... it really frustrates me. Especially because Richelle writes him as self-flagellating over it, but Sydney immediately reassures him “oh, no, I just got the gas turned off, you couldn’t have really done anything...” as if those three or so days weren’t a big deal with the way the time crunch worked out later... it’s one of those heavy-handed things where I don’t feel like Richelle ever actually makes Adrian own up to his errors in the same way the rest of the main characters have to. Including: Wesley Drozdov and his motley crew show up again, and Adrian plays big hero and outs their dabbling attempt on Sydney, and then with Keith later on thinks to himself “at least I’d taken no for an answer from girls” as if he hadn’t insistently pursued both Rose and Sydney (including the scene at Alicia’s Victorian inn in IS) and been revealed to have dabbled at least once. Like, good that he’s trying to make up for past behavior, but again and again it comes off to me as glib or insincere (in the way it’s written- that he’s some model that is exempt from causing harm). This especially pisses me off in the way he treats his mom for sticking in a loveless marriage to his dad (did Adrian forget about his mom’s affair with Ambrose btw?) for financial security, and even with the hypocrisy being pointed out to him and him begrudgingly admitting it in his mind, or he drags Nina to Sonya’s to try and get her compensated for her work and she’s all googly eyes at him, but his acts of chivalry feel empty. And this extends to Marcus, too, to a lesser extent. Look, I love Carly (all the Sage sisters mean the world to me) and I’m glad that she became an advocate for fellow survivors and I get what Richelle was trying to do in empowering survivors with Carly’s character, but Marcus’ star-struck admiration of her (being made speechless by her strength) felt weird and make me uncomfortable.

On to Sydney’s stuff, holy hell her side of the story is dark. And this conversion therapy nonsense in it is part of why I desperately want canon queer leads in the adaptation (preferably Sydney herself, which would yes mean Adrian and probably Rose... that’s my prerogative). Is that potentially triggering? YES. But Richelle took that step when she laid it on so thick with the allegory. In the meantime, I love the supporting characters that Richelle drew up to be in the center with Sydney. Emma, Duncan, and the rest (the fellow detainees- not Sheridan... she can burn) and I want more of them (seriously, Richelle made some great underexplored groups with the Unpromised, the Keepers, the Merry Men, and then these additional Rebelchemists). There is a weird mention of Sydney having arranged some supply closets on one of the floors, despite whatever scene she did that in seemingly having been cut (there was also a line Rose ascribed to Victor at the end of Last Sacrifice about sending Jill away, so it’s not unheard of). When I first read the book (with a long break before), the degree to which Sydney was using magic in there felt illogical, but rereading directly from the other books, it is more justifiable. I think the Detainment, and Sydney’s struggles there, is some of the best writing Richelle managed in the books, and I don’t have any changes to that part.

But the escape... is actively worse than I remember it. There are glimmers of some great stuff in there- I mentioned in the last post how much I love when Sydney wakes up Hopper and sobs over him, and that still is powerful. But omfg Sydney (and Adrian) hold up the stupid stick so many times in these chapters. To be clear, first-off: Adrian should have gotten blood before they ever went into the desert. In the worst case, he and Eddie (the night before the infiltration) should have gone off to the side and done a feeding (doesn’t have to be Eddie, since I imagine he actually has a bad reaction to them since FB, but it does have to be someone willing). Eddie would have enough time to recover, especially with adequate food. Setting that aside, the actual events of the escape work for me. So I guess it’s more the after. Sydney and Adrian should have driven straight to Las Vegas (if they wanted to stop in the other town and change clothes and switch cars that’s fine with me- I even like the senior citizen tour they were on; p.s. we never learn if the Ivashkinator was shipped back to Palm Springs or anything, which is very surprising to me). Their decision to stay in a hotel overnight, even as much as Sydney did deserve that kind of relaxation, was stupid beyond belief. I would have preferred they got to Vegas, were spotted by Alchemists but made it to the Witching Hour without issue, and then Adrian got them a room, and that was the point where Sydney relaxed and slept. Consolidate some of that. Let Sydney have her luxury bath, and a haircut from Adrian, and other stuff there. Let her mention to him that the first photo she saw of him was taken near there, and hey, did he know Rose had bought a car in Russia that Sydney loved. And when Adrian goes down to make some money to further their escape, that’s when he realizes they’re being watched- there are too many yellow and orange auras. Let them have a less exorbitant wedding than in the book- no ridiculous mermaid dress that Sydney can’t expect to move in and that is ridiculously expensive (she can still have a beautiful stunning white dress). Let her start with the blue sneakers. Let Adrian find a place to get the ring made, if that’s necessary (or just use the dang cufflinks as are for the time being and pin them to the fancy attire). And Jill sends the chopper directly to the Firenze for an “Italian” wedding. They can still have the showdown with Sheridan on the roof- just simplify everything.

And then when they get to Court- let Sydney do more of the talking. Let her (righteously) call out the conditions in the reconditioning- the torture because she showed empathy to Renee who couldn’t even eat on her own, the torture they inflicted on Emma to break her- she didn’t betray her own kind, the Alchemists are repeatedly betraying their own kind, pushing them into the darkness of an empty hole. Oh, and this necklace around her neck, that Sheridan took for her own before Sydney reclaimed it, the morning glories were painted by the man she loves. And she rejects the Alcehmists having any authority on her. She’s a witch of the Stelle coven; she’s Sydney Sage Ivaskhov damnit. And when her dad tells her that if she doesn’t come with them, these will be the last words she ever gets to say to him? She gets to ask him if he knew what happened to Carly, if he let it happen under his own roof because he wanted a son like Keith more than the daughters he was blessed with. I want Sydney arguing her case, having her real communion. I said the same for Rose and Spirit Bound, and Sydney deserves the same here.

p.s. there are a lot of structural parallels between this book and BP/early SB- Sydney’s reeducation being like Rose’s time in Novosibirsk, the Tasarov escape from SB (which Eddie directly mentions) immediately followed up with a Vegas trip

Ruby Circle

Dang it. Look, I no longer hate the idea of Sydney and Adrian raising a kid. Their ending in RC was a lot better built-up (and a lot less bitter for Sydney) than I thought the first time. But the road to get there...

I hate the Jill being kidnapped by Alicia part (and I don’t buy the Warriors working with her). Honestly, just let them deal with Alicia during the events of Fiery Heart (when next to nothing else is going on). Like, Adrian and Sydney come off really badly in my head for “causing” her kidnapping because of a personal vendetta against them, when they came there to protect her in the first place (I realize the actual fault was with Alicia, but the feeling stands). Also the pointless scavenger hunt leading them from Pennsylvania (so conveniently, even though Alicia would have had to go there to set her traps after abducting Jill in the first place?) a month after the fact to whatever castle (then to Michigan) then to Palm Springs and the infiltrating the Warriors mission... it’s all too much (also I refuse to believe Sydney cast those stinging demons... that’s so dangerous I can’t even). Given the introduction of the Stelle in FH, and the unnecessary Malachi stuff, it works better to do that all then anyways. (I still want Jackie involved somehow of course) Instead of sidelining Angeline at Amberwood, she should get to be involved in the hunt for Jill (same as Eddie was for Sydney).

In other parts... Wesley Drozdov was never a good character. I really didn’t need even a mention of him in this book. I also... don’t buy how stigmatized Adrian was for marrying Sydney. I can see it being a scandal, or a laughingstock, the source of snarky asides and derision, but Richelle never built it in VA or the earlier BL books to being as heinous as she then tried to make it (so that Adrian could feel suffocated by Court, just like Sydney). I would have been much more interested in trying to see Sydney blend in, and take a stand in the Moroi world (and seeing her try to ally with nonroyal Moroi, but that also still not going super smoothly because they don’t like being on the same level as a human), and maybe her trying out her magic with the Moroi fighters that Mia and Christian had formed (that beautiful, blessed little moment), and then if it integrating there didn’t work admitting that it just... wasn’t going to. Rather than not even trying.

I understand that Richelle was building up with Adrian’s fears of completely losing it with Nina, but she just got screwed over in both of these books. (We’re acknowledging that it was wrong of her to kiss him in SS when he wasn’t even conscious, and moving on). And then Olive got screwed. And Neil got screwed. I said before that I don’t mind Sydney and Adrian raising a kid. But I mind a whole heck of a lot that Richelle killed (essentially) Nina and Olive both (in bullshit, tragic ways) and then wrote Neil off so that Sydney and Adrian would have to raise a baby. Let Sydney be pregnant. Let her be recovering from the most traumatic event of her life, she and Adrian forewent protection on their hectic honeymoon/escape, she’s going to be a mom to a Dhamphir and wow that’s going to be weird for her... and meanwhile this allows her to get through to Olive. To promise Olive and Neil that Sonya and everyone else will not use their baby as a test tube. Nina can still go up to the brink (maybe she passes it and the spirit trio of Lissa, Sonya, and Adrian have to heal her), there can still be a Strigoi attack at the Refuge in northern Michigan, but ffs cut the crap treatment of those three to pass on a readymade kid to Sydrian. It is a trope that I loathe. I also dislike the “ohmigod” fangirl characterization of Mallory, and while the Rand stuff was better than I remembered (that is to say, he is terrible and everyone acknowledges that and no one makes light of it the way I misremembered), I could do without it (especially since I’d prefer that if they keep Dimitri and Adrian cousins, they addres it much earlier).

Honestly, I would do the following:

the start of the season for RC (which doesn’t match its name??) has Sydney and Adrian locked down at Court and they can’t help like they want to, so they try to adapt and do what they can there, including Adrian trying to get Nina to calm down; their friends from Palm Springs and Marcus team up altogether and get an infiltration squad with the Warriors of Light; Eddie gets to participate; they rescue Jill, and get some of the data on the Alchemist/ Warrior collaboration

the Moroi Court finally gets into action on the age and family laws in earnest; meanwhile, Sydney is helping carve out a niche for the rebel Alchemists to work with the Moroi, especially for Strigoi hunting groups like what Mia and Christian wanted to organize; Jill and Sydney are helping each other emotionally recover from their respective hostage ordeals; Sydney realizes she’s pregnant, which helps Adrian realize in a dream with Olive that she’s pregnant, and finally sees her location marker

it’s “rescuing” Olive time; Neil gets to go too- with his presence, things don’t all go to shit; there is a Strigoi attack in retaliation for the new hunting groups, but heroes persevere and protect the commune; the data on the Alchemist/Warrior collaboration, and the Rebelchemists work with the Moroi, gives the perfect leverage now to get the Rebelchemists their freedom and establish Sydrian’s future together

SO, after rereading Bloodlines

I dislike Sydrian less than I did, though I still think Adrian could be vastly improved if adapted as a woman

the second half gave Eddie more to do, but still not enough emotional focus on him

man Amberwood and its supporting characters disappeared; I get that Adrian isn’t likely to settle in California long term, but can I please get more resolution to those characters, whether it comes from more focus in IS, or a graduation ceremony or something?

Abe also disappeared which is strange

man, Sydrian have a lot of daddy issues. because their dads are both abusive jerks. but why oh why did Jared end up collaborating with the Warriors for tattoos? was it because of anger over ‘losing’ Sydney or just greed? I’m glad that Zoe and Sydney at least started to heal things, and that Zoe is ok where she is

we still never got answers on who restored Lee... Clarence only showed up for deus ex machina money and shelter and I guess blood (did Marcus ever get to speak to him again?)

minor grievance: Richelle described the Warrior recruits as being almost evenly distributed between men and women, with a slide toward men, before two pages later saying there were 30 potential guys and 13 potential ladies, and remembering that, oh, yeah, the Warriors didn’t really use women on the front line; I don’t want any of that subplot adapted I just... editing?

#DoBetterByOliveAndNinaAndNeil2030 (who gets to name their kid Declan?), #LetSydneyUseHerBeautifulBrain

#I'm a VA girl #long beneath the cut

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ebthecelebrity · 3 years

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Sometimes the Grass is Greener on the Other Side Because it’s Fake

Introducing Brenda and Her Insecurities…...

Brenda stares at herself in a full length mirror. She turns to the left then to the right, eyeing her booty. She sucks her teeth and sighs. “Ugh, why did my mama give me her flat ass!” She walks off in disgust and plops down on the sofa. She grabs her phone and opens up Instagram and the first picture she sees on her timeline is a chocolate IG Model in an orange bikini on a yacht. She clicks on her profile and scrolls only to see more half naked pictures of this model’s voluptuous shape.

“Her ass can’t be real,” she mumbles to herself.

She clicks off and continues to scroll her timeline. She sees her high school classmate with his two kids playing at a park, a photo of some cute puppies, and The Shaderoom’s petty commentary on rapper Bow Wow. She cuts her phone off and walks into the bedroom to find her boyfriend, Keith, laying on the bed scrolling on his phone. He was zoned in.

“What are we doing today?” she asks. He continues to scroll his phone.

“Keith!”

“Huh?” he replies startled.

“What are we going to do today? Did you want to go out to eat at that new restaurant off 49th Ave?”

“I mean...I thought we could hit up the beach later. You know, pack the cooler with some drinks and maybe get something to eat out there.” Keith replies.

Brenda shrugs her shoulders. “Okay, I guess that’s cool.”

Keith smiles and grabs on her leg playfully. “Put on that sexy swimsuit you bought last summer, you know the black one.”

Brenda rolls her eyes. “Naaaaah, I’ll just put on some shorts. I’ll save that one for another time,” she replies.

She walks out the bedroom and goes back to the full length mirror and analyzes her body again. Truth is, she didn’t like it and definitely not in a bikini. She imagines her pancake shaped booty and A cupped breast looking pitiful in the midst of DD’s and Georgia peaches flaunting in the hot sun. Keith tells her all the time that she is beautiful, that he loves her body, but she just can’t seem to believe him. They’ve been together for two years but till this day, there are many times that she caught his eyes wandering. The beach was just a playground for her feelings to get played with under his dark shades. She truly resents going there but in order to keep the peace this Saturday, she agrees to his suggestion.

“I think my butt getting big, butt getting big, butt getting big…..” The song loudly blasts out of the bedroom. “Buss it, buss it, buss it, buss it….” Brenda silently listens to Keith watch “The Buss It Challenge” on his phone. It’s the new tik tok dance challenge where women appear raggedy looking at first with bonnets, pajamas, no makeup, etc. and then they drop down and twerk in the camera made up with hair, makeup and form fitting clothing. Brenda knew you had to have something to twerk in order to participate. She saw women of all races do the challenge and pop their ass on the gram, gaining likes and lust. She heard whatever video Keith was watching loop in replay three times. Before she knew it, a tear rolled down her right cheek. She quickly wipes it away.

It’s been two weeks since Keith and Brenda’s beach outing. Brenda is now sitting in an exam room, waiting to be seen by a doctor. She nervously tugs at her shirt and looks around the room. A few seconds later, a short gray haired doctor walks in and introduces himself.

“Brenda London?” He asks.

Brenda nods her head. “Yes.”

“Hi, I’m Dr. Castlerock. Nice to meet you. What brings you in today?”

Brenda takes a deep breath and replies, “Well, I want a consultation on a Brazilian Butt Lift.”

On the drive back home, she calls Keith.

“I scheduled it for August 16th,” she says.

“Brenda, why would you do this to yourself? I told you, I love every inch of you. It’s unnecessary man.”

She could sense the disappointment in his voice. “I don’t like every inch of me Keith! Why can’t you just support me?”

“I want to support you in everything you do, but this is not it. Where is your self love?” he replies.

“I got self love, and that’s why I’m doing it.”

“So you’re really just going to disregard how I feel about your natural body? Don’t I tell you all the time how beautiful you are?”

Brenda remained silent.

“And what about the cost? Isn’t it expensive?” He asks.

“I have cashed out my 401K.” she replies.

“Wow.” Keith replies.

“Listen, my butt has bothered me my whole life. I want to be the woman you lust after on Instagram. I want to be the bad bitch in the bikini!” Brenda cries. “You say you love my natural body, but you’ll love this even more.”

“Aight Brenda, do you. You’ve made up your mind. I just don’t understand, and I never will. I don’t lust after those females. I lust after you. I love you.” Keith replies.

Brenda bits her bottom lip and holds back tears. “I got to focus on the road Keith. I’ll see you when I get home.”

They both disconnect the call and Brenda lifelessly stares out the windshield of her car.

It’s now August 21st and Brenda can’t sit, drive, properly shower, or even have sex. She’s currently lying on her stomach on the couch, watching tv in a compression garment to help reduce swelling and discomfort. This week has consisted of strong pain meds, tears and a little regret. Even with his disapproval, Keith agreed to be her caretaker for the next two weeks. He walks out the kitchen area and hands her a small bag of Lay’s potato chips.

Brenda grunts in discomfort while lifting up off the couch a little to grab them. “Thanks”, she says.

Keith looks at her in an emotionless stare. “I got to make a few runs. You good?” he asks.

“Uh yeah, how long will you be out?” Brenda replies.

“I’m not sure.” Keith grabs his fitted cap from the back of the bedroom door and walks towards the front door.

“Okay, well be sa…” Before Brenda could get out “safe”, he had already slammed the door and walked out. The past few months leading up to the surgery had been difficult between them two. It’s like all the love and admiration Keith had for her went out the window. They had not really been intimate and he refused to discuss the BBL. Brenda yearns to get the man she fell in love with two years ago back. She feels that as soon as her recovery is here within a week or so and he sees her new curvy ass, they will bounce back. He will not be able to keep his hands off her. She smiles while envisioning the make up sex they will soon have and how things can get back to normal. Her phone rings. It’s her best friend, Sadie.

“Hey girl, what’s up?” Brenda answers.

“Girl….” Sadie reponses with a pause.

“What?” Brenda sits her upper body up in attention.

“I just saw Keith with a bitch.”

“Say what?!” Brenda tries to get up off the couch but suddenly feels a sharp pain in her upper left thigh. “Owww oh my God.”

“Take it easy girl, I did not want to call you with this shit, but you know I took pics of the evidence. Sending the pics now.” Sadie assures.

Brenda’s phone alerts with the text message. She quickly opens it up and clicks on the picture of Keith and a random girl hugged up outside of a gas station. Her mouth drops open and she’s in disbelief. The random woman has the biggest smile on her face while he holds her close and has both of his hands palming her booty. Sadie yells the words right out of Brenda’s own mouth.

“How the hell is he going to cheat on you with a flat booty bitch?!”

Introducing Trevor and His Enviness…..

“Aye excuse me Sir, can you take this pic for me real quick?” Trevor hands his iphone X to a stranger walking by who agrees to snap a pic of him in front of a silver 2020 Mercedes Benz S 560. It’s valet parked outside of the Ritz Carlton Hotel downtown. The man snaps the pic of Trevor and hands him back the phone. Trevor looks at the pic for a hot second and smiles.

“Thanks man,” Trevor says.

The man nods his head and replies, “No problem bro, that’s a nice whip you have!”

Trevor is a little startled by the compliment but replies back. “Uh yeah man thank you.”

“Those are going for like $100k. I’m sure it rides nice.” The man stares at the car in admiration.

Trevor nodded his head in agreement. “Oh yeah man, it’s laced out inside.”

“So dope, I’m trying to get like you one day bro,” the man says. “Take care and stay up.”

“You too.” Trevor replies.

Trevor waits until the man walks out of view and walks the opposite direction. He hurriedly walks two blocks down the street and stops at the bus station. He takes a seat on the bench and pulls out his phone. He pulls up the picture of him in front of the Benz on Instagram and captions “Just dropped 100 bands on the new whip. Talk to me nice.” He clicks upload and chuckles to himself. The city bus loudly pulls up and comes to a screeching halt at Trevor’s feet. He jumps up off the bench and gets on it to go home.

That next morning, Trevor wakes up to a loud vacuum outside his bedroom door. The door bursts open. He jumps up startled and rubs the cold out of his squinted eyes.

‘Really Mom?!” he says groggily.

His mom frowns her face and rolls her eyes. “It’s time to get up!” she says loudly over the vacuum. Trevor sighs loudly and rolls over to the edge of the bed. His mom, Cynthia cuts off the vacuum and looks at him annoyingly.

“If you don’t get a job by the end of this week, you gotta get out,” Cynthia says.

“This week?” Trevor asks, confused.

“This week is what I said. All you do is sleep in late and eat up all my damn food,” she replies.

“Ahhh man. Mom, you got to give me a little more time than that. Getting a job doesn’t happen overnight.”

“I don’t know who you think you are, but you are 30 years old still living with me and unemployed. You are not too good to drop them fries at Wendy’s down the street. I told you they were hiring last week and you still refused to put in an application,” Cynthia says. “I’ve had enough!”

Trevor sucks his teeth. “Man, I’m not working at no Wendys. I’ll figure something out,” Trevor replies.

“You got 5 days and I mean it,” Cynthia replies. She angrily cuts the vacuum back on and rolls it out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

Trevor stares at the wall for a minute, in an effort to fully wake up. He has no desire to work at Wendy’s. In his eyes, it was not good enough. He decided to get up and look online for a job. He pulls his laptop out of the closet and begins his search with indeed.com.

“Hmmm...desired salary range? $75,000 a year will do,” He says to himself.

Upon clicking search, he finds a lot of great paying jobs with benefits but the catch 22 is, they all require previous experience. Trevor has a high school diploma. After failed attempts to get into very prestigious universities, he was unable to secure an acceptance. His mother begged him to attend the local Community College to start off with his electives, but he felt that was not good enough. Trevor had dreams of becoming a journalist. He enjoyed writing and he used to record his own radio show for leisure. In High School, his grades were just not up to par for some of the schools he applied for. This discouraged him, and he never thought twice about going back to school. That was 12 years ago, and he has since worked dead end jobs and has yet to move out of his mother’s house. He became somewhat of a hermit, not engaging with friends and family. He secludes himself from everyone. His social media shows that he is a successful businessman residing in Atlanta, but in reality, he is broke, depressed and his mother still makes his bed.

After 30 minutes of searching online, his frustration grows and he slams his laptop closed. There is no way he can work at Wendy’s. He fears that his fabulous lifestyle would be exposed by running into anyone he knew. He opens up his Instagram and looks at his profile.

“532 likes?! Haha, that’s crazy,” he says to himself while admiring the photo of him in front of the luxury Benz from last night. He then scrolls his timeline to find a picture of a black suit and purple tie that someone had laid out on a plush hotel bed. He screenshots the picture and opens his profile up again. He captions “Rise and Grind. #GoodMorning.” and uploads it. He then puts his phone down and prepares to take a shower. He opens up his dresser drawer and pulls out a pair of blue boxer briefs. They had a hole in the back.

“Damnit!” He yells and slams the drawer.

Three days have now passed and Trevor is in his room playing his Playstation. His mother, Cynthia busts in his room.

“It’s Thursday young man and I’m not playing with you. Have you found a job?” She demands.

Trevor doesn’t take his eyes off the game and responds. “I’ve applied to a few places Ma, can you give me some time? I can’t just find a job in a week like that.”

“You’re lazy! And I want you out tomorrow! You better go stay with your cousin or something. I am no longer taking care of a man child,” she replies.

Trevor pauses the game.

“Ma, are you really going to kick out your only son? I’m really trying.”

Cynthia throws an empty box at him. “Pack some things. It’s time for you to grow up,” she replies.

She walks out the room. Trevor just knew he couldn’t live with his cousin Maurice. He still owes Maurice $500 from weeks ago. He truly had nowhere to go. Finally, years of misleading people with untruthful social media posts, borrowing money without repayment, not willing to work low wage jobs, and trying to keep up with the Jones’ has suddenly come crashing down. In desperation, he opens up his computer and types in “PPP Loan.” He reads where he will need a legitimate business to qualify and knows the consequences. This fictitious lifestyle has pretty much caught up with him but now he’s desperate. He wants the car, the money, the clout…. He clicks on the SBA website and begins to fill out an application.

#BeGrateful Fake WaterYourGrass FakeGrass IG BBL SelfLove

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lady-griffin · 4 years

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Prince Geordo looked at Katarina as she stopped to smell some Ice Roses, smiling softly to herself.

It was just the two of them walking through the palace gardens and Geordo couldn’t have been more pleased.

Keith had to meet some daughters of several noble families, Alan and Mary were whisked away by Marquess Hunt, and Prime Minister Ascart had taken his family for a trip down south. Oh and of course Maria had gone home to her small village.

It was perfection.

Geordo smiled smugly to himself. The Ascart family’s vacation and Maria staying home were just good fortune on his part, but the other two. Well he was quite proud of himself to say the least.

A few mild comments about Keith’s lack of engagement had been enough to send Duchess Claes into action. As for his own brother and Lady Mary, well it was fortunate he had run into Marquess Hunt and expressed his sincerest disbelief that his own bother hadn’t performed for his fiancé’s family.

“Why are you smiling like that, Prince Geordo?”

“Are you saying there is something wrong with my smile?” He responded with his best charming smile.

But Katarina wasn’t thrown by his act. In fact, her eyes narrowed and he felt goosebumps gather on the back of his neck.

For as oblivious as his beloved fiancé could be, she seemed to have the uncanny ability to see right through him.

“I get to spend a lovely afternoon with my beautiful fiancé picking flowers, of course I’m smiling.” He said, feeling a bit sheepish for his half-lie. It wasn’t like he was unhappy to be spending the afternoon with her.

Katarina looked at him like she didn’t quite trust his answer, but nonetheless she returned back to the flowers.

“Do you like these ones?” He asked, pointing to the Ice Roses, hoping to move the conversation along.

Katarina nodded enthusiastically at him and Geordo held up the basket filled with flowers that he’d been holding for her. She carefully placed the newly cut roses among the others.

Katarina was planning on making several bouquets. She’d told him all about how she wanted to give one to Keith’s fiancée when she returned back to Claes Manor.

Geordo doubted that even the fearsome Duchess could get Keith to pick a girl to be his bride, but he didn’t tell Katarina that. He was glad that Katarina had cheered up and he didn’t want to ruin her good mood.

She’d been slightly put out when she’d been told it would be better for her to not be at the tea party.

While he was always going to suggest that to Duchess Claes, before he could even say anything, Katarina had already been told to stay away.

Geordo wasn’t sure if the Duke and Duchess were aware that Keith’s fondness for Katarina went beyond sibling affection. Though, at least, the two were aware enough to know that Keith would never give his full attention to other noble ladies if Katarina was around.

For that, Geordo could not fault the younger Claes sibling. All noble ladies fell to the background for him when Katarina was around. In fact, everyone did. How could they not?

“Are you sure it’s alright for me to take these?” Katarina asked unsure, carefully admiring some more flowers. Katarina’s questioning of her position in society was still something that fascinated him. It was endearing, but odd.

“Of course.” He answered simply.

She beamed at him and his heart stuttered. Katarina bent down, softly touching the petals of some Sword Lilies before cutting a few to add to her growing collection. Katarina moved forward.

“What flower do you like best, Prince Geordo?”

What kind of flowers do you like Miss Katarina?

Geordo blinked at the memory he had nearly forgotten.

It was from the day when he had first met Katarina.

He hadn’t actually forgotten about that day. How could he? The memory of Katarina falling and him being unable to do anything as the blood gushed out dominated his memories of that fateful day.

Though, the rest of his memories of that day had faded over the years. Geordo barely remembered the madness of servants and doctors rushing to Katarina’s aid, but the fear on their faces and his own feeling of uselessness had made their marks. He didn’t even recall who finally pulled him away from the bloody scene and walked him back to the palace.

It was no wonder he had forgotten the first part of the day, before Katarina fell. Or as it seemed, he had nearly forgotten.

Now those memories were rushing back to him.

Geordo remembered his selfish fears the following week, when Katarina was bedridden with a raging fever.

He was so concerned of what going to happen to him if Katarina didn’t recover. It wasn’t like he could explain to his parents that Katarina was to blame, not him. Because what would they even say to that? What would society say about the Third Prince refusing to take responsibility?

All of that fuss for some dull, spoiled, and vapid little girl.

“I don’t think I have a favorite flower.” He answered, trying to keep his smile as his stomach twisted in on itself. “I’m haven’t really given it much thought before. Do you think a certain flower would suit me best?”

Katarina turned away for him, listing off all kinds of different flowers that she could think of.

He had once thought Katarina was colorless and boring, that she was just like everyone else.

No.

He had once thought she was worse than everyone else. Even more boring than all other noble girls he’d been force to meet.

Panic seized Geordo as he watched Katarina walk further and further away for him as he stood there motionless, stuck in the garden of their childhood. The colors slowly fading away as she left him behind.

It was almost funny how he had forgotten what the first hour of their first meeting had actually been like. Almost, being the word.

Geordo had been so annoyed at being force to give her a tour. No one had bothered to even ask him if he wanted to do it. It was just presumed he would. But of course, they presumed that.

Geordo had been going along with the meetings and making pleasantries and smiling as every stupid girl he’d been force to meet. The idea that one of them would be his future wife hovered above all their interactions. A depressing cloud to remind him of all the boring years he had to look forward to.

It didn’t matter if it was Lady Catley, Lady Thorne, Lady Bennet or any of the others, because there weren’t any real differences between them. They were all as boring and uninteresting as the last one.

In an odd way, Katarina had stood out amongst the others. It had only been a few minutes of meeting her that he knew he absolutely did not want her to be his wife. Ever.

During their first walk through the gardens, Katarina had clung to his arm. Her fingernails felt like claws digging into his skin, trapping him in place.

All he could do was smile and be the charming prince they all thought he was as he suppressed the urge to push her away. He had wanted her to leave him alone, he didn’t want to spend another second with Katarina Claes.

How blind was he as a kid?

How stuck in his own spoiled thoughts that he had mischaracterized his beautiful Katarina to such a degree that all he saw was some stupid, vain girl with nothing of note about her?

A week after Katarina had fell, young Geordo was told about the scar that marred her once beautiful face. Though according to others, the scar was a few centimeters at most, if even that.

Still, the question of who would want to marry her now had been whispered throughout the palace halls.

At the time, Geordo thought it was ridiculous and beyond infuriating.

But it had given him an idea.

Maybe being engaged to Katarina could help him out in the following years to come. A shield to all the so-called important Lords and Ladies who shoved their daughters at him. If he was engaged, he wouldn’t have to deal with them anymore.

And if the reason for his engagement was just the matter of a silly scar, well surely, he could break it off for another silly matter. It wouldn’t be difficult to manipulate someone like Katarina.

True he would be stuck with an insufferable girl for the years to come, but it also meant freedom from the countless others.

With his plan set to go, Geordo arrived at the Claes Manor to officially check on Katarina’s progress.

Visiting her was the first step into his new future. He wasn’t going to propose to her right then and there, no that would be improper and unseemly for the Third Prince. Still he had to visit her once, so he could propose to her during his second visit. There couldn’t be a second visit, without a first.

But he had been wrong. That Geordo remembered clearly.

He had never really been wrong before and it almost seemed impossible, but yet…

Katarina had apologized to him of all things. She too thought all the fuss around her had been ridiculous and…and he was confused.

Smiling brightly at Geordo, Katarina showed him the scar on her forehead, assuring him that she was just fine. That she could just cover it up with her bangs and that there was no need for him to feel bad.

His eight-year-old self couldn’t even begin to wrap his small mind around Katarina throwing his carefully laid out plan out the window, like it was nothing. So, he quickly proposed to her right then and there.

Formality and properness followed his plan out the very same window.

At the time he hadn’t realize why he had even done that. Why he hadn’t stop to think of another plan, why he had been so impulsive.

But now Geordo did. It was clear that his younger self, with his set plan, had been desperate to enforce it. To ensure to all, no to himself, that he’d been right. That he couldn’t have been wrong about Katarina.

Geordo wanted to laugh at his younger self, but couldn’t find it in himself.

He remembered being confused when he returned to his room after visiting Katarina. Geordo had been able to see through almost everybody his entire life and even with the people he couldn’t, at least he knew he couldn’t.

But Katarina…

He had been so sure of exactly what kind of person she was.

Young Geordo shook his head. It didn’t matter that he was slightly off about Katarina. He had been right in the end, in a way…if one thought about it long enough.

He was still going to properly propose to her the second time he visited.

Everything was still going according to his plan. It had to.

Though it wouldn’t hurt to reconsider what he knew about one Katarina Claes, just so he’d be prepare for their next meeting.

And yet, even with his expectations of Katarina carefully modified for when he returned to properly propose to her, she had thrown him off once more.

Katarina smiled brightly without a care as she stood in the early beginnings of a field in dirty work-clothes, hoe in hand.

Creating a vegetable field to improve her earth magic was one of the most ridiculous and nonsensical things he had ever heard. He almost broke right there as he tried to contain his laughter.

But it was creative and wonderfully Katarina, to think of something no one else had and to go at it with so much determination and enthusiasm. Not caring if she was wrong or right. It was so different from how he approached everything. So wonderfully different.

That day Geordo remembered clearly.

Years of reflecting back on that day had solidify it in his memory. The dull, colorless world he had lived in for so long was marred by the bright and colorful Katarina in the most beautiful way.

That day was when he finally admitted to himself that he’d been wrong; he didn’t know the answer to the confusing puzzle that was Katarina.

That day spurred on Geordo’s countless efforts to figure Katarina out and understand everything about her. Because for the first time in his long eight years of life, he was finally interested in something, no, someone else.

That’s the day he met Katarina Claes.

The days and years that followed had led to him falling hard for her. His beautiful, lovely, and odd fiancé.

That’s what mattered. Who cares if he had misjudged Katarina in the beginning? It didn’t matter. Not now.

So why was he still standing frozen to the ground? Why couldn’t he let go of what he had first thought of Katarina? He was wrong and he had misjudged her, there was nothing more to it. Why couldn’t he let it go?

“Prince Geordo!” Katarina shouted, rushing back to his side and relief filled his body as he finally breathed out. “I’m so sorry. I got lost in talking about Mary’s lesson in proper flower arranging that I didn’t even realize that I had…”

Her face was flushed with a beautiful red and her bright aqua-blue eyes looked wild. His heart pounded at the sight, at the idea of her rushing back to him.

“Geordo?” Katarina asked. His eyes widened as he realized he hadn’t heard anything else she had said. “Are you feeling alright?”

Before he could respond, a cool hand was on his forehead, while the other held his cheek. He was so overwhelmed, that instead of doing the sane thing of assuring Katarina that he was fine, he hugged her tightly.

Because what if Katarina hadn’t hit her head? What if there had been no scar? What if…what if she had never been part of his life at all?

Geordo held Katarina tighter. Afraid that if he let her go, she would be gone.

At eight-years-old he was already bored and annoyed with everything. He couldn’t even begin to imagine what eight more years of that would’ve been like.

Katarina pulled away and he just stood there, embarrassed by his sudden rush of emotions and losing control like that. He tried not to blush as she stared back at him, her mouth agape.

She shook herself out of her daze and then quickly and very loudly began to call for one of the servants to take a look at him.

She grabbed his arm tightly and began dragging him back the palace. She was determined to have someone take a proper look at him, since clearly the sun had gotten to him.

Geordo went along happily, with no desire to escape the forceful grip on his arm.

As the two got closer to the palace, neither one took notice to a certain spot where a young nobly lady had hit her head all those years ago. — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — Archive of Our Own

I’m intrigued by the fact that Geordo is the only one of the main characters who met Katarina before she hit her head. He’s the only one who knew her before, even if very briefly.

So, I got to wondering if he thought Katarina had a major shift in personality or would he just presume the more logical (but not true) answer, that his opinion of Katarina before she hit her head was wrong.

And then my mind took off with that idea.

#Hamefura #Katarina Claes #Bakarina #Geordo Stuart #Otome game no hametsu flag #Gerald Stuart #destruction flag otome #my next life as a villainess #Jeord Stuart #archive of our own

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bxcketbarnes · 5 years

Text

All To Myself

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader

Words: 1800+

Author’s Note: Who wouldn’t love a whole day by themselves with Steve Harrington? In his backyard? With a pool?

"Y/N! Your boyfriend's on the phone!" I heard my mom yelled at me and I let out a groan, shifting in my bed to face the nightstand.

I pick up the corded phone, pressing it against my ear. "Hey, Steve," I say tiredly as I drop my head to the pillow.

"Hey, baby. What are you doing today?" His voice asks through the phone.

"I don't know. Nothing probably. Why are you calling me so early?" I question him with a chuckle, moving so I'm laying on my back.

Steve laughs as well and I already know he's shaking his head. "I miss you. It's been like a week and a half since I've seen you," he tells me and I snort.

"You're so needy," I tease and I can hear the scoff come from his lips. "Don't worry, though. I love it."

"So, you up to coming over for a pool day?" Steve asks and I hum softly. "My parents are gone, as usual, so it'll just be us."

I grin, needing some alone time with Steve, who I've been dating ever since the night he got his ass kicked by Billy. "I would like that. When do you want me to come over?"

"Whenever you're ready. Bring an overnight bag, I want you all to myself today," he says and my heart flutters at his words.

"Alright, baby. I'll see you soon, okay?" I mumble into the phone.

"See you soon. I love you."

"I love you too, Steve," I full-on grin before biting my lip softly. After hanging up the phone I throw my blanket off of my body, getting up from my bed before stretching slightly. I grab my bag from my closet, setting it down on the mattress.

A knock on my door snaps me from my thoughts of what to pack, glancing towards the sound as my mother stands in my doorway. "What'd Steve want?" She asks, her arms crossed over her chest.

"He wants me to go over for the night," I tell her and she gives me a look. "Ma, don't give me that look. We'll be safe, I promise."

My mother just sighs, nodding her head. "Alright. I trust you to be safe and I know he wouldn't ever force you. He's too in love for that," she says and my cheeks heat up.

Steve's in love with me? And too in love?

After I finish grabbing everything, I sling my bag over my shoulder. I press a kiss to my mother's cheek as I walk past her. "I'll see you tomorrow! Love you!"

I pull into Steve's driveway, parking beside his maroon BMW. I unbuckle myself before turning the vehicle off, grabbing my bag from the passenger seat and getting out.

"Stevie!" I call out with a giggle as I step up to his door, knocking a bunch of times. I heard running on the other side of the door, halting my knocks as I take a step back, waiting for the older teen to open the door.

The front door opens and Steve stands on the other side, looking fine as ever. "Hey, beautiful," he greets and I stepped up to him, leaning on my toes to press a kiss to his cheek.

"Hey, handsome. Did you start the party without me?" I ask while noticing him already in his swim trunks, paired with a black tank top.

"No, never," he chuckles and moves out of the way, allowing me into the house. I walk inside, hearing Steve shut the door behind me before I feel his arms wrap around my waist. Steve presses his lips against the curvature of my neck as I giggle, resting my hands over his. “How are you doing?”

I turn around in his arms, wrapping mine around his neck as my fingers find their way into his gorgeous hair. “I’m doing well considering what happened several weeks ago. I see your bruise has finally gone away,” I mention and bring one of my hands to his face, gently stroking my thumb under his eye. “How are you holding up?”

“I’m doing good as well. My first couple of weeks at Family Video have been hectic, especially when working with Keith,” he tells me and I give him a soft smile. I lean on my toes, connecting our lips together. A hum leaves his lips as his hands slide around my waist, resting on my lower back. He pulls away from me a few moments later, a smile coming to his lips as I softly bite mine. “I’ve missed that, though.”

“So have I,” I giggle and press a quick kiss to his lips once more. “I’m gonna put my stuff in your room and change real quick. Meet you out there?” I motion my head towards his backyard.

Steve licks his lips, watching his honey brown eyes roam down my figure. “You sure I can’t watch you get dressed?” He asks cheekily with a wink.

“Steve!” I laugh and smack his chest. He feigns hurt, pouting cutely as I shake my head. “No, you can’t. But maybe, just maybe, I’ll let you shower with me later?”

A smirk comes to his lips as he nods. I make my way towards his stairs when a loud smack is heard in the empty house. The stinging on my asscheek follows and a gasp leaves my lips, having them parted slightly while looking back at Steve. “Love you,” he says and a chuckle leaves my lips, rubbing the spot he just slapped.

“Love you too, weirdo,” I tell him and walk up the stairs to his bedroom.

I open the sliding door that leads to his backyard, seeing Steve fumbling with the radio. I adjust the navy blue bikini bottoms, tying the little ties that are on the sides of it. The brunette hears me close the back door, his head turning towards me and they light up.

“Holy shi-,” he cuts himself off as he stands up straight. His eyes roam over my body again while walking towards me. “So, this is the new bathing suit you got?”

“Yeah. You like it?” I ask and glance down at the simple navy blue two-piece.

He nods his head as we stood near the edge of his pool, a sneaky idea coming to mind. “I absolutely, do. You look amazing, fuck,” he mutters as he admires my curves.

“You know you look amazing as well, but you know what would be better?” I ask in a hushed whisper and he hums in response, waiting for an answer. I smirk before suddenly pushing on his chest. Steve lets out a scream as he falls back into the pool.

He comes up from underwater quickly, letting out a gasp of air as giggles leave my lips. “Oh, you’re going to get it, sweetheart,” the older teen smirks as he swims to the edge of the pool. I watch as he lifts himself out of the water, admiring how nice his arms look.

A squeal leaves my lips as he dashes towards me. I manage to run around him, feeling his cold hands touch my hips. “Steve!” I yell while laughing, running around his pool as he chases after me. He manages to catch up to me pretty easily, his arms wrapping around me before he lifts me into the air. “Baby! I’m sorry, I couldn’t resist,” I try to reason with him.

“Are you really sorry though? The shit-eating grin on your lips doesn’t say you are,” he chuckles and I try to pry his hands off my stomach. Steve sets me on the ground, flipping me around so I face him. Before I could move around him he stripped himself of his shirt, my eyes trailing down his chest. Steve’s arms wrap around me once again before throwing both of us into the pool, a scream leaving my lips before we hit the water.

I swim up to the surface, coughing slightly as I got some water up my nose. Steve comes up afterward, his face going from joy to worry as my coughing continued. “Oh, god. Are you okay?” He asks while swimming close to me, laying a hand on my back.

“Y-Yeah,” I mutter and cough a few more times before calming down. “Just got water up my nose,” I giggle before wrapping my arms around him.

The two of us swim towards the shallow side, Steve’s hands grabbing the back of my thighs under the water before wrapping my legs around his waist. “Sorry, I didn’t mean for that to happen,” he mumbles and I smile at him, patting his wet cheek.

“It’s okay, babe. It happens,” I tell him before pressing a sloppy kiss to his lips. “I still love you.” My hands move to his wet hair, combing my fingers through it as I thought about what my mom said earlier. “Hey, Steve?”

“Yeah?” He answers and looks up at me, his fingers stroking the back of my thighs as he crouches a bit, the water coming up past my chest.

“I… Do-Wou-,” I stutter, not exactly knowing how to ask him this question. “You love me, right?”

Steve tilts his head, confusion in his eyes as he nods his head. “Of course I do. I have for a while now, why what’s wrong?”

“It’s just… my mom had said something earlier and it made me think because I know you’ve only felt that way once an-”

“Babe, babe,” Steve cuts me off, one of his hands land on my face, moving some wet strands of hair out of my face, “you gotta elaborate a bit more for me to understand.”

I quietly sigh, feeling my heart pound against my ribcage. “Are you in love with me?” I ask him, not making eye contact with him as nerves fill every part of my body.

Steve lifts my chin, making me look at him as he had a soft smile on his lips. “Honestly, I am,” he confesses and my breath hitches in my throat. He is?!

“Really?” A smile comes to my lips as he nods his head, the smile on his lips widening.

“Of course. It didn’t take me a while too. You have an incredible personality and the way you interact with the kids is absolutely breathtaking. You’re so kind to everyone, including the people you even hated and I found it incredible. You’re amazing and I’m so lucky to call you mine,” he tells me and a quiet aw leaves my lips.

“I’m in love with you, too, Steve. I have since we started high school,” I mumble to him and feel the blush cover my cheeks. He licks his lips, his eyes staring into mine and he stands back up, bringing us towards the edge of the pool.

He sets me down on the edge, his hands moving to the concrete as mine rest on his shoulders. Steve’s gaze moves to my lips for a quick second before he leans forward, capturing my lips in a kiss. My hand moves to his jaw, my thumb stroking his cheekbone as I kiss him back, tilting my head slightly. I pull away with a smile on my lips, our foreheads resting against one another.

“You are the best thing that’s happened to me.”

Stranger Things Taglist: @lovefilledtragedy @daisyxbuckley @morningfears @writingsbychlo @whiitee--sxxl @adumbledoreable @vanitysfairr @kaelyn-lobrutto24 @fangirlinganditswonders @ria132love @rissa067 @omgdani17 @sadgirlhours247 @radicalbilly @lizziejean13 @thecurlsofgod @makeupbychio @apuzzlepieceheart @laurmillen

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calligraphist-artemisia · 4 years

Text

The Smallest Blade (Part xix)

Summary: AU. Kolivan knew raising a half-Galra cub wouldn’t be an easy task, especially while running a super secretive organization dedicated to bringing down a corrupt empire. What he didn’t take in consideration was how much the boy would change his life.

Also posted on AO3 under the username Kishirokitsune

- - - - -

xix.

Lance was so far out of his depth that he may as well be drowning in the deepest ocean of Poseida with no way to reach the surface anytime soon. Why did he think that going with Keith and Shiro was a good idea? Well, actually, escaping from the soldiers who were after him was a good reason to take a chance on anyone, but he wasn't thinking about that. But they were still Galra! They would kill him if they found out he was Altean; that was the whole reason they went into hiding!

He gulped as they entered the med-lab and Keith hurried him over to a tall, pale periwinkle Galra, who lifted an eyebrow at the sight of them.

“Kolivan wants him looked over,” Keith said.

Lance supposed the tall Galra was the one Kolivan called “Ulaz”.

“Very well. Do you require medical attention as well, Keith?” Ulaz asked, turning solid golden eyes onto the younger Galra.

Keith shook his head. “Just Lance. He had a rough landing before we found him. I'll, uh, wait over there.” He waved his hand vaguely to the other side of the room.

Lance was guided onto a chair and spent the next half-varga getting poked, prodded, and stung with antiseptic before his worst scrapes were properly bandaged. He thought for sure his time was at its end when Ulaz took a blood reading, but the Galra merely gave him a curious look and then sent him on his way.

To Lance's confusion, Keith led him back out into the hall. “I thought we were supposed to wait here for someone?”

“Regris came by while you were getting patched up and passed along a message from Kolivan. He's getting a room set up for you now.”

Lance frowned. “I get my own room? Just like that?”

“Don't get too happy about it. You're sharing with me. Apparently since I'm the one who found you, I'm in charge of keeping an eye on you,” Keith said, not bothering to hide his frustration.

Wait, they thought he was a threat?

Lance almost wanted to laugh at that, but was afraid if he did he'd also throw up.

From what he gathered, they were some sort of secret intelligence group. If they really thought he was a threat to them, that meant they'd be watching his every step. Scrutinizing anything he said or did.

Lance was so screwed.

He obediently followed Keith through the halls, unable to keep track of which turns they made or even where he was in relation to the places he's already been. Everything looked the same to him. Just dull, utilitarian metal and an occasional plaque pointing out the direction of some feature of the base.

At least, that was what Lance assumed. He wasn't proficient at reading the Galra language.

Eventually, Keith led him to a labeled door and knocked twice. When it slid open a few ticks later, Lance was treated to the sight of a Galra girl with fanned ears and soft green marks freckled through the lavender of her fur, like stars against the night sky.

“Keith, you're back!” she exclaimed in delight and greeted him with a big hug, which he reciprocated.

Their reunion gave Lance just enough time to remember the girl-crazy persona he decided to adopt. She was fairly pretty (for a Galra), so it wasn't all that hard to adopt a flirtatious tone.

“So, who is this vision of beauty?”

Keith immediately moved between them, a low growl rumbling from his throat.

Lance put up his hands in a placating manner and took a step back, his heart thudding painfully in his chest. “Okay, I get it. No flirting.”

The girl nudged Keith aside and then leaned against him as she introduced herself: “I'm Katla.”

“The name's Lance,” he replied, hoping he didn't sound as nervous as he felt.

He must have passed her evaluation, because Katla let them both inside what Lance came to understand was her family's rooms. A series of photos decorated a shelf nearby and he took a moment to admire them.

Soon they were sitting at a table, each with a bowl of warm food, and Lance had to exercise a bit of self-control to not eat it all at once.

He paid only slight attention to Keith and Katla as they began to talk; evidently the fact that Keith and Shiro were gone for an extra quintant raised some concerns, so Keith was telling her what little he could about what happened.

Lance dropped in a few “uh huh's” and “yeah's” whenever appropriate, but spent most of that time trying to figure out what his next plan of action was.

He couldn't stay. He knew that much. There was no telling what the Galra would do to him once they learned the truth, and no matter how friendly they seemed, he didn't want to risk them learning about Cenalenaex'ye. He wouldn't put his people in more danger than they were already in.

But how would he get away? Where would he go? He wasn't confident that his piloting skills were enough to get him safely through the Quantum Abyss, so it wasn't like he could go back home. Not to mention he didn't have proof that they were in danger from Lotor.

So he needed proof. What else?

Lance's spoon scraped the bottom of his bowl and he set it aside, passing on the offered refill.

He would have to wait and learn more before he tried to go anywhere. Maybe there were records showing which planets were occupied by the Empire? Or maybe there were rebels somewhere who he could get in touch with and they would be willing to help?

All of his thoughts led him back to one problem: he was stuck in the base for the unforeseeable future, with a group of people who didn't trust him. (And, in turn, who he didn't trust.)

Lance would have to pick through his questions one at a time, listening and learning wherever he could. He would memorize the paths through the strange halls and maybe learn some of their language so he could tell where he was going. Keith was a bit grumpy, but not outright hostile, so he figured he could get away with asking things without getting glared at.

It wasn't much of a plan, but he figured it was a good start.

#voltron #kidge #kidgemas #fanfiction #The Smallest Blade

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rangoatemybabynsfw · 5 years

Note

Lance gets really bad nightmares after his 'death' and the first time he and Keith spend the night together he gets one. Keith wakes him as he spasm and he's covered in sweat and crying. And Keith lulls him back to sleep with comforting whispers, gentle touches, and soft kisses

You sure know how to feed me with that hurt/comfort fluff anon! How about some pre-relationship bed sharing?

Trigger warning: minor panic attack? [Also, long read]

Keith always thought Lance and Hunk were a thing. He sometimes catches Lance sneaking into Hunk’s room in the middle of the night with a pillow and blanket in hand. Then later he’d catch him leaving the room but not before Hunk gives him a big embracing hug.

But outside of that they never seem to be nearly as intimate. They don’t act like they’re dating when walking around the castle. They don’t sit next to each other at dinner. They don’t even do cute little PDA things like hold hands or kiss in the halls. It’s odd and Keith doesn’t figure out why until later.

Hunk approaches Keith before a solo mission. He’s gonna be gone for a few days and would Keith do him a favor?

“A favor?”

“Can you watch after Lance?”

“You want me to look after your boyfriend?” Keith raises a brow.

“What? Lance isn’t my–no. We’re not together,” Hunk explains. “I’m not his type,” he adds with a joke.

“But he’s always going to your room and spending the night there,” Keith points out. “I figured–”

“That’s not what you think–but it is actually part of the reason I’m asking,” Hunk sighs and slowly explains.

Lance has been having a hard time sleeping ever since the thing at Omega Shield. At first, he’d just wake up in the middle of the night in a panic but he could get back to sleep if he kept the lights on. But then after a few more nightmares, he’s been having trouble falling asleep at all if he’s alone in his room. He hasn’t slept in there in weeks. He asked Hunk if he could sleep in his room just so he doesn’t feel alone. It’s helped him a lot even though sometimes he still wakes up afraid.

Keith had no idea. Lance always looks fine when they talk. Happy even. But now that he’s thinking about it, every time he went into Hunk’s room he had this somber look on his face. He chalked it up to being lonely, not afraid.

“What do I have to do?” Keith asks.

“Just let him sleep in your room while you’re there,” Hunk tells him. “He usually just sleeps next to me but you can just set up a pallet on the floor and it’ll be enough. Think you can do that for me?”

“Sure,” Keith nods. “No problem.”

“Great, I’ll let him know,” Hunk smiles. “I told him you’d be cool about it.”

“He was against you telling me?” Keith frowns.

“He was against anyone knowing but…I insisted he stay with someone while I was gone,” Hunk tells him. “I figured you wouldn’t mind.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because despite all your arguments, you like Lance. He’s your friend too. You care about him,” Hunk says patting his shoulder. “And despite all his denials and complaints, he likes you too. I think if he wasn’t worried about looking like a coward in front of you, he’d have come to you before he came to me.”

That night Hunk leaves and Keith waits in his room with the light on. Waits for Lance to show up. He arrives later rather than sooner, just as Keith is starting to nod off in front of his data screen.

He’s carrying a pillow and a thick blanket, that somber look on his face. His eyes stay averted from Keith like he’s embarrassed to be calling on him for this. He shifts at the doorway and clears his throat.

“You’re still awake?” he asks.

“Reports to go through,” Keith tells him.

“Right,” Lance nods half-heartedly. “So uh…the floor or what?”

“You can use the bed,” Keith tells him. “I’ll be up a while longer. Hope you don’t mind the light being on.”

“No. That’s fine,” Lance tries to smile as he steps into the room.

He falls into Keith’s bed after tossing his pillow onto it. He scoots as close to the wall as he can and curls up in his blanket without another word. Through the next two hours, Lance barely moves. Keith finishes reviewing reports and stands from his chair with a stretch. Time for bed.

Keith slips into the bed, carefully so as not to disturb its sleeping occupant. If what Hunk says is true, then Lance needs all the sleep he can get. It feels strange to have someone in his bed but not unpleasant. It’s warmer. And he can hear Lance’s soft breathing from under the blanket and see the rise and fall of his body.

He dims the lights slowly, gauging if Lance will react at all to them. He doesn’t which is good because Keith’s not sure he can sleep with the lights on. Once they’re off, he shifts in a little closer and lays his head down to rest.

How much time passed he doesn’t know but he wakes to someone shifting in the bed. He remembers who when he hears a scared whimper as the body tosses. Keith sits up a little and reaches out to place a hand on Lance’s back, to reassure, but before he can Lance thrashes awake with a panicked noise. Like he’s choking on words and fear and air.

“D-Dark…it’s…it’s too dark!” Lance whispers, his voice cracking. “Wh-WHere…? I can’t–b-breathe!” he gasps.

Keith flips the lights on to find Lance pressed with his back against the wall and holding his chest right where his heart is. He’s sweating and cheeks streaked with tears.

“It’s okay, Lance, you’re okay,” Keith tries to tell him.

“I can’t–I c-can’t–” Lance tries to speak but chokes on air, his eyes wide and pupils the size of pinpricks.

“Don’t try to talk, just breathe,” Keith says, scooting next to him and putting an arm around him. “Take my hand and squeeze. That’s it. It’s okay. I got you.”

Lance’s grip on his hand as he tries to breathe is tight as a vice. His tanned knuckles turning white as he holds. Keith keeps telling him that it’s okay. That he’s safe. That Lance is out of danger now. He’s okay.

Once he can breathe, Lance yanks his hand out of Keith’s and plasters them both to his face in shame. He’s so embarrassed. He won’t stop apologizing, for what Keith can’t guess. A few teardrops squeeze their way out past his hands as he hiccups and whimpers.

Keith feels sympathy overwhelming and wraps his arms around Lance in a strong embrace. His hand pets through his hair in some attempt to calm the crying boy in his hold. Seems to help because Lance leans into his embrace but then he starts sobbing into Keith’s chest. Between the cries, Keith catches a few words like ‘so scared’ and ‘alone’ and ‘so dark’ and a couple more sorries for good measure.

He wishes there was something more he could do to calm Lance but he can’t think of anything appropriate. More than anything he wants to kiss Lance but that feels wrong. Like he’d be taking advantage of Lance’s vulnerability. So instead he keeps holding him, rubbing his back, promising that he’ll be alright because he’s here and he’s not going anywhere.

Lance cries himself into passing out in Keith’s arms which means Keith’s left with the task of finagling them back into a sleeping position without waking Lance back up. He manages to get them both under Lance’s blanket with Lance still clutching tight to his shirt.

He dims the lights but not enough to darken the room too much. He’ll just have to learn how to sleep with the lights on because he’s for damn sure not letting Lance sleep alone ever again. He wants to be there when Lance needs him. Wants Lance to feel safe and cared about. Have someone at the ready to hold him and tell him he’s not being unreasonable with his fears.

Keith shifts until he’s comfortable and wraps his arms around Lance, his head tilted and nose brushing the top of Lance’s head. He doesn’t fall asleep for a while. At one point Lance makes a whimpering noise and clutches Keith’s shirt. Like he’s about to have another bout of panic. Keith just hushes him and holds him close, stroking his hair and reassuring him.

Lance relaxes then asks a question. Can he…can he hug Keith? Is that okay?

“Yeah, go ahead, Lance,” Keith tells him. “Whatever you need…”

“Thanks, Keith,” he sniffs and hugs tight.

Even after Hunk comes back, Keith extends the offer to Lance to stay in his room. Anytime.

And Lance takes him up on it. He sleeps there often, finding that he has less nightmares while there. Anytime he wakes in panicked breaths, clutching his chest in fear, Keith’s there. He never steps over the boundaries of being Lance’s comforter and teammate. His friend.

And then one night…Lance doesn’t have a nightmare.

But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t wake because he does. He wakes to find a sleeping Keith stroking his hair. He admires that slumbering face and thinks on all the kind efforts Keith’s made on Lance’s behalf.

He’s no idiot. He’s noticed the way Keith holds back when they’re together. Wants to be a good friend without taking advantage of Lance. A beautiful man inside and out, he thinks and caresses Keith’s cheek with a fond look. But he must shift too much because Keith bolts awake with a worried look.

“What’s wrong, Lance? You okay?” Keith asks with a hand on Lance’s shoulder. “Can you breathe alright? What do you need?”

“I’m fine,” Lance says with a smile. “Not a nightmare in sight.”

Keith lets out a relieved breath and falls back into his pillow.

“Good,” Keith sighs and pats his shoulder. “Get some sleep, Lance.”

“Sure,” he says. “Hey, Keith?”

“Hmm?” he hums, eyes closed and ready to go back to sleep.

Keith feels a hand cup his jaw, thumb brushing his cheek. When his eyes open, he finds Lance looking down on him with a sweet smile. Lance moves slow enough that Keith can object at any time, leaning slowly in with lidded eyes focused on Keith’s lips that he captures.

Lance isn’t crying, or scared, or panicking. He’s not afraid, heaving clipped breaths from lungs that seem to want to give out. Lance is clutching to Keith, not because he needs comfort but because he wants something different. Only then does Keith kiss back with all the passion he’s been holding back.

#Rango answers #Klance #Soft Klance

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sheithfictioncatalogue · 5 years

Note

What are some WIPs you’re all looking forward to updates for?

In addition to the in-progress ones from this list we did previously (some are completed now, but still good!), here’s some new ones we look forward to:

Alex:

A Friend Indeed - CGotAnAccount @illunelurks

ongoing, 4/? chapters, 9k. (Explicit) Contains: nsfw content. Background ships: friends with benefits Matt/Keith

There are a few things Matthew Holt has learned over the past few years of being launched into space, kidnapped, thrust into an intergalactic war, and hailed as a hero of the universe.

Firstly, space is as huge and beautiful as he always knew it was – just twice as terrifying as he could ever have imagined.

Second, his little sister is in fact the smartest human that will ever exist and nothing will ever convince him otherwise.

And lastly, Shiro and Keith will never, ever get their shit together.

Beam me up, Hottie - lasersheith @lasersheith

ongoing, 7/? chapters, 34k. (Teen)

Shiro’s life is kind of a mess. His job sucks and his best friends are moving across the country back to their hometown. All he really has is Star Trek until the Big Bang pairs him with an artist that just might change everything.

“Do you remember that event I told you about?” His voice came out barely above a whisper.

Laughing again, Matt sat his sandwich down. “You mean your totally-not-porn writing competition?”

Shiro groaned. “It’s not porn,” he hissed out quietly, “and it’s not a competition, it’s just an event.” He said, looking up into Matt’s judgmental eyes. “Look, you own 6 replica anime swords. It’s literally illegal for you to judge me for anything, ” he pointed an accusing finger at Matt’s chest.

Matt held up his hands in mock surrender. “Ok, ok. So what about your event thing?”

Shiro looked back down at his phone with an awed smile. “I got paired with my favorite artist…” He answered wistfully.

don’t call me baby (unless you mean it) - akaiiko @akaiikowrites

ongoing, 3/? chapters, 36k. (Explicit) Contains: PTSD

Getting with Shiro is worth anything. Anything. So Keith is going to fake being the cliche with daddy issues - complete with stuffed animals, booty shorts, and an utter loss of dignity - until he makes it. Hopefully along the way he’ll figure out why it feels like being Shiro’s baby boy might just be the best thing that’s ever happened to him.

Keith has a moment where he wonders, somewhat blankly, how he bought this perfectly serviceable shirt and then promptly forgot its existence. Then he looks down. And remembers in a series of post traumatic flashbacks exactly why he’d blocked the shirt from his consciousness.

Namely, three words, in a font that isn’t comic sans but comes insultingly close to it, garnished with red glitter: Daddy’s Little Boy.

“Keith?” Very slowly, he turns to look at the closed door to his bedroom. “Keith, are you okay? I heard…” Probably some kind of vaguely strangled noise. But Shiro’s too nice to articulate that kind of thing. “Keith? If you don’t answer, I’m coming in.”

For All the Stars in the Sky - allyoop_1 @isabelladeltigre, Wolfy_P_Smith

ongoing, 4/? chapters, 34k. (Mature)

“They’re good kids.”

They both take a moment to look over at said kids. Pidge has her elbows on the table, butt in the air as she finger smashes on her DS and Matt is picking at a tear in the booth and eating what comes out.

“Well,” Keith says, turning back to Lance. “They’re…kids. Probably human.”

Matt licks at the tear in the seam and Lance grins. “Debatable.”

Or: Keith has two jobs, two kids, and a million problems. Shiro’s not the solution to all of them, but he sure does help.

Make Believe - LittleWhiteTie @littlewhitetie

ongoing, 5/7 chapters, 18k. (Teen) Contains: PTSD

In which, in order to form an alliance, Keith and Shiro need to fake a relationship and endure a series of related trials.

This was a terrible idea. An excruciating, tantalizing car crash of an idea. Keith should never have agreed to this. It was everything he’d ever wanted and more. He was never going to be able to come back from this.

Careful metal fingertips traced his jaw, tipping his face up to meet gentle, storm grey eyes. He was close, so close. “Everything okay?” Shiro asked, quietly.

“Of course,” Keith said. “Everything is fine.”

It was a bald-faced lie; everything was not fine. It was wonderful and devastating and nowhere in between.

my doorbell, when you gonna ring it? - spectrespecs @exitlude

ongoing, 2/3 chapters, 35k. (Explicit) Contains: nsfw content

Shiro, a chronic apartment renter, feels like it’s time for him to settle down and buy a house. He thinks so, at least. Keith, one of the finest real estate agents in the city, is the one tasked with finding Shiro a home. They both find a little more than intended.

a slow, dumb show - redluxite (wordstruck)

ongoing, 6/8 chapters, 19k. (Teen)

Shiro shrugs. “No.” His lips quirk in a little half-smile. “Are you going to ask me?”

Keith’s mouth curls, just a little. His eyes flick over to Shiro again.

“Why not?”

Shiro comically stumbles to a halt. “Sorry?”

There’s that amusement tucked in the corner of Keith’s mouth again, as he reaches out a hand to steady the pizzas in Shiro’s arms. They’re quite close together now.

“Do you want to go out with me?”

All Eyes On Us - Green_Destiny @green-destiny

ongoing, 4/? chapters, 32k. (Explicit) Contains: nsfw content

K_Red and BlackLion are camboys for the same website. Unrivaled in their power but rivals to each other, a chance meeting at an official event pulls them inevitably towards each other, as much as Keith would like to resist, gravity is always, always stronger.

the peace-weaver - magisterpavus

ongoing, 18/20 chapters, 203k. (Explicit) Contains: nsfw content, trans Keith, sexual violence

You will be the peace-weaver, his mother told him, smiling though her dark eyes welled with unshed grief. The one who brings two bitter enemies together and ends the bloodshed and death between us, once and for all.

But men will always crave war. The Galra, most of all.

Akira:

every breath you take - arahir @arahir

ongoing, 5/7 chapters, 32k. (Explicit) Contains: nsfw content

Keith takes a swim, gains a secret admirer, and finds something to live for.

There’s a cut on his bottom lip, a row of tiny lacerations that smart when he pulls at them to get a better look.

He doesn’t notice the bruise on his upper arm until the next day. He catches the edge of it at the corner of his eye when he’s pulling on a fresh shirt: blue lines, like stripes, but when he turns and twists to see how they ring his arm, he realizes what they look like.

The lines are like fingers. It’s a handprint.

sweet sun, send me the moon - arahir @arahir

ongoing, 2/? chapters, 8k. (General) Contains: graphic depictions of violence, temporary amnesia

Shiro still has one battle left to fight.

Keith’s body in his arms doesn’t twitch and his eyes don’t flicker. They’re open a little, Shiro realizes; dull, sightless slits of white. Not dead, though. He’s not dead. Damaged, yes, but they can fix this.

Kel:

The Alien at Camp Marmora - flukeloops

ongoing, 6/10 chapters, 19k. (Mature)

Shiro and Keith are back at Camp Arus and madly in love. Alfor has to take a week off to tend to personal matters and has left his friend Kolivan in charge. Kolivan presents the staff and campers with Camp Marmora: a grueling 5-day challenge that tests their bodies and maybe even their minds. Will Shiro and Keith’s fairy tale romance stand through it all? What will the challenge reveal about both of them?On top of it all, the longer Shiro stays in human form, the worse his legs hurt. He’s afraid that he and Keith’s worlds will drift too far apart if he has to live in the water.[SEQUEL to The Mermaid of Lake Altea]

Sweet Cherry Pie - keiti221 @starlightshirogane

ongoing, 8/? chapters, 18k. (Mature) Contains: nsfw content, abuse, stalking, implied/referenced rape/non-con, kidnapping, murder, threats of violence, threats of rape/non-con, death threats

After Keith shows up to perform at an event that didn’t actually want a male stripper, he spends the evening sipping wine coolers with the hottest detective he’s ever gotten his hands on. Unfortunately, neither of them have been particularly good at relationships - Shiro is always busy with work and Keith keeps attracting weirdos - but both want to make this one work. So what could possibly go wrong?

Shiro the Hero and the Happily Ever - Saasan @decidedlysarah

ongoing, 2/11 chapters, 8k. (Mature) Contains: nsfw content, a/b/o dynamics, mpreg

Shiro never thought he’d be able to find a mate, let alone have a family. As blessings keep piling up in his life, he thinks back on the road it took to get there. Keith had always feared mating, but being with Shiro is bliss–if only he’d be just a *little* less weepy-with-joy. Meanwhile, Lance and Pidge discover they will be having a family much sooner than expected. This story will follow the four of them on their path to parenthood and, because the author isn’t a dick (unlike DreamWorks), everyone gets a happily ever after.

See You In Court - arcadenemesis

ongoing, 2/5 chapters, 15k. (Mature)

If Shiro’s life were a movie, this would be the part where the music would swell and everything would slow down.

He’s not sure how long he stands there, just watching, but it’s not until another hotel patron brushes past him that Shiro comes back down to Earth. Thank God Keith hasn’t seen him yet. Meeting eyes from across the room seems romantic in theory, but Shiro’s pretty sure his open staring would be anything but in reality. Better going for a smooth introduction, he decides, steeling himself and walking over with confidence he doesn’t feel.

"Hey there, Wild Card.”

Takashi Shirogane is the best in the world at tennis, and the absolute worst at love.

(Or, Wild Card through Shiro’s eyes.)

#Anonymous #sheith #sheith fanfic #sheith fanfiction #voltron #vld #voltron legendary defender #voltron fanfic #fic rec #recs #modfaves

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vulpesvulpesjenna · 5 years

Text

Rank-king; Disney Princesses

Inspired by the Try Guys’ Eugene I want to rank the official Disney princesses in my opinion from worst to best! He made a YouTube video ranking them, and since I disagreed with so many of his decisions, I wanted to make my own list. Justice! So, here is my own list of official Disney princesses from least favourite to my favourite. Like Eugene, I will count Elsa, Anna and Moana as official princesses, even though Disney has them separate.

14. Snow White Snow White, the first Disney princess from 1937 reflects her time’s ideal woman; she’s cheerful, innocent and loves housework. Which is exactly why I dislike her. Her character is built on being cute and virginal, cleaning up the dwarves’ house just because... why does she like cleaning up the filthy home of strangers so much? I don’t know, I just find she lacks personality. She’s simply the embodiment of the “perfect female” of her time, and that irks me more than anything. Blah, she doesn’t have a personality, so she’s my least favourite.

13. Aurora Very much like Snow White, Sleeping Beauty is just a pretty, innocent and virtuous girl. She’s almost an extra in her own movie (I mean, she *is* asleep almost half of the time). I like her design and the fact that she walks around the woods barefooted and is a countryside girl; otherwise she doesn’t have a lot of personality. Her finding her prince is a tad better than Snow White: at least Aurora meets Philip once before he comes along and kisses her while she’s sleeping.

12. Cinderella CInderella’s supposed to be amazingly kind, patient and understanding, and sure, that she is. To the point of being a mat that everyone is welcome to walk over. I think she tries to change her own life a bit more than Snow White or Aurora, but in the end, Cinderella is still dependent on her prince saving her. Otherwise she’s, again, this perfect, virginal woman of her time at the cost of having a personality of her own. At least she has a dream and cute little mouse sidekicks.

11. Ariel I think this is my first truly controversial pick; Ariel is loved by the masses, and people will surely be appalled by my choice. But to be honest, even though I love mermaids and red-haired princesses as much as the next girl, I find Ariel to be a bit of a... brat. I mean, she sees prince Eric from afar once and decides she wants to be with him. She’s even willing to abandon her family for him. Seriously? Not to mention acting very childishly and making some very stupid and outright dangerous life decisions by signing Ursula’s contract. And it very nearly ends in her complete demise! She put her whole family and people in danger just because she felt she was not like the other girls. I know people love her, and I do too, but I can’t fool myself into thinking she’s very smart or mature. Gotta give her props for 1) having a personality and dreams of her own and 2) being imperfect, which is what earlier princesses lack.

10. Jasmine Princess Jasmine is painted to be this rebel in Aladdin. But to be honest, I don’t know if she really is. I like her and I understand her, but again, I wish she was a bit more level-headed. Yes, it is charming how out-of-touch she is having lived in the Palace her whole life, and I do admire her will to explore. I also like how she says what she thinks and doesn’t try to sugarcoat things just because she’s a princess. She has a fighting spirit, which I like. I am a bit bothered by the fact that her most effective weapon against Jafar is her sexuality (nnnggghh), which is one of the reasons she’s this low on my list.

9. Tiana I love Tiana; she’s exemplary in her drive and hard work. But I can’t help feeling like... that’s it? I don’t know, I guess I hope she had something more going on for her. Because at the end of the day I find her to be a little boring. Or I guess she does have personality, but I think it could have been brought up in more interesting ways. It could also be that I’ve only seen The Princess and The Frog like twice. But anyway; she’s great but I kinda wanted something more.

8. Pocahontas I *loved* Pocahontas when I was a kid. She was so graceful, but wild (yeah, yikes...). These days I see the aboriginal-glorifying (also known as racist) undertones in her depiction, and can only cringe. Anyway, she really is a wonderful character none the less; she has wanderlust but also enough maturity to reign it in. She’s curious and non-judgemental. She has a close relationship with nature, which is something that resonates with me personally. She’s wise. She also has flaws; overly independent, reckless etc. I always thought she was a lot older than the character is supposed to be. But yeah, the racism and sexualization can only be escaped so far, which is one of the reasons she’s my number 8.

7. Moana Okay so I’ve only seen Moana once (I know, don’t eat me). From what I remember Moana was a great character; driven, imperfect, brave with a big heart. Anything one can hope for from a Disney princess, really. She really is great. But tbh, her movie just didn’t do it for me. Maui was great, but for example the (other) sidekicks were kinda meh. The music was a bit boring too, IMO. I know I’m alone with my opinion, but this is my list so here we are.

6. Elsa I know she’s really a queen and not a princess, but following Eugene I’ll put her as one of the princesses for the sake of ranking. Elsa is amazing and I relate to her a lot. Comparing her hiding her powers to depression really hit me as someone who’s been struggling with depression for more than 10 years. I get her. She’s very, very imperfect, but also very powerful. I’m pretty sure she’s more powerful than any of the Disney princesses, which is cool as heck. I know she was supposed to be the villain of her movie at first, and honestly I kinda love the sass and confidence and the IDGAF attitude she has at the end of her Let It Go number. She’s also responsible and sensible, which are rare characteristics in a Disney princess (queen).

5. Merida Oh, Merida! Bow-and-arrow wielding, horse-riding, apple-stealing princess with a charming accent! I can’t not love her. She has a lot of the same themes that Jasmine does, but I think they were handled better with Merida. And again, I just love these outdoorsy type princesses. Shes’ capable and determined. She also makes mistakes, even if her mistakes were very frustrating watching the movie. People say Brave didn’t have a real plot or conflict and complain about the Mother Bear thing (yes I’m looking at you Keith of Try Guys), but I disagree. I liked that the movie for once focused on the relationship between a princess and her mom. I’d like to be friends with Merida.

4. Anna Anna is just delightful! Helps a lot that her voiceactor is Kristen Bell, whom I adore. But anyway, I really like Anna; she loves her sister more than anything, she’s brave and willing to face the freezing wilderness to bring Elsa back. SHe’s weird and quirky (though to be completely honest the quirkyness is sometmes a bit forced). Just all around a great gal.

3. Mulan These last three are just arbitrarely in some order; I pretty much love all of them equally. Mulan is like the best female character from Disney ever, period. She’s willing to do anything to save her dad and her country. She’s strong and smart and daring but also sweet and understanding and kind. They succeeded in making her a woman character who possesses a lot of masculine traits without losing her heart, and still being very relatable. Also Mulan is cool as hell. She also has the best sidekick, Mushu.

2. Belle I always get the result of being most like Belle from online quizzes. Because yes, I do have brown eyes and hair (naturally), love books and knowledge, and dream of a brighter future in the great wild somewhere. I related to her ever since I was a child; one of my dreams has always been having a library like Beast’s. Her whole movie is amazingly pretty and has the best music. Also Belle’s Finnish voice (which is the one I heard as a child and still know best) is perfect. Yes, all of this comes down to my personal taste, and I’m not sorry. I love how Belle is a strong female character without being a bad-ass fighter. She does her best for her father, she’s independent, she doesn’t let gossip bother her, she stands up to Beast even though she’s scared, she stands up to Gaston, she stays truthful. These days people like to claim she’s suffering from Stockholm Syndrome; to those believing that, please watch Lindsay Ellis’s video on YouTube on the matter. Also, Emma Watson is not my Belle and I try to pretend the whole live action version never happened.

1. Rapunzel Rapunzel is my idol. She’s crafty and independent and joyful and a dreamer. She’s really imperfect and in my opinion most like a real person out of all the princesses. She’s genuine and wears her heart on her sleeve. She’s amazingly brave, witty and kind of a bad-ass. She breaks out of her narcissistic kidnapper’s grasp. Her romance feels real and organic. I just really think Rapunzel and Tangled as a whole movie are very underrated. Go watch it.

Honorable mentions to non-princesses - Megara from Hercules, one of my favourite films. Meg is great, and rare with her cynicism and world-weary attitude. She’s so cool and I love her. - Kida, who weirdly is the princess of Atlantis but not included in the DIsney princess line? I’ve never understood that. She’s amazing and beautiful and ugh. - other women of Atlantis: The Lost Empire: Helga Sinclair, Audrey Ramirez, love them. It’s seriously such a good, underrated movie - Esmeralda from the Hunchback of Notre Dame, another one of my childhood idols. Rare a Disney woman in that she’s not ashamed of her sexuality, but not dependent on it, either. She kicks ass. - Jane from Tarzan, she’s silly and cute, and so stylish!

I’m right, you’re wrong, shut up!

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nobodys-pearls · 5 years

Note

For the fic prompts, adashi and 11. I read your fic "I hate space" and loved it and just want to see more drunk adashi because every time they get tipsy they get all lovey

Ahh I’m so happy that you enjoyed it I love that scene

(also if you read ‘i hate space’ this takes place during ch 13 after they save the day and all that jazz and are heading home)

11. things you said when you were drunk

“Woah, wait,” Shiro said, stopping in the middle of the hall and laughing to himself. His head felt all floaty and warm and nice and -

“Hurry up, Takashi. Lance gave us only five minutes,” Adam whined, tugging on Shiro’s sleeve and giggling when he lost his balance for a moment. Shiro pouted and closed his eyes, trying to focus.

“Right, we’ve - we’re going, but -” Shiro paused, scrunching up his nose in thought. “Where are we going again?” He opened his eyes to see Adam standing there with crossed arms, deep in thought.

“Shit, I forgot,” Adam said after a moment, but then he waved his hand. “Oh! We’re supposed to get Coran’s musta - you know, the thing on his - masta -” Adam furrowed his brow as he tried to come up with the word. “Coran’s gel and, uh, bring it back!” Shiro looked up and down the hall.

“So, what way?” Shiro asked, and Adam laughed, shaking his head.

“I have no idea.” Adam moved to lean against the wall, putting his hands on his knees and bending over. “My head is all -” Adam began to say, waving his hand as he tried to think.

“Floaty?” Shiro offered, and Adam pointed at him, his hair falling in his face.

“Yes, that.” He laughed again. “I don’t think that we’re gonna be able to do this dare.” Shiro joined him, leaning his head against the wall and closing his eyes.

“I can’t believe we even made it this far,” Shiro admitted, shaking his head, which currently felt like it was stuffed with cotton.

“Are we lightweights now? Did we get old and now we can’t handle our alcohol?” Adam asked, leaning into Shiro’s side. He was warm. Shiro smiled.

“It’s the Nunvill, I think. Very strong.” Adam scoffed.

“If Iverson could see us now,” Adam said. Then Shiro watched as he quickly looked up and down the hall. “Oh shit, Iverson could see us now. He’s on the Atlas too!” Shiro’s eyes widened and then they both erupted into giggles, holding on to each other for support.

“I didn’t mean to get this drunk,” Shiro said, holding Adam’s hands and giving them a lazy squeeze. He felt himself leaning forward and Adam quickly shot a hand out to catch him.

“I don’t think we’ve ever been this drunk, not since -” Adam began, and then he started to blush. Shiro looked at him in confusion for a moment, and then the memory finally floated to the front of his brain. Adam’s hands on his chest, his tongue in his mouth, an empty bottle of wine between them. Shiro could feel his cheeks heat up as well, although they were already plenty warm. “Look at you,” Adam said, booping Shiro’s nose. “You have the Asian flush going on all over your face.” Shiro pouted.

“I do not.”

“Do too,” Adam teased, moving his face closer to Shiro’s and giving him a lazy smile. Shiro looked at him for a moment, admiring the way his skin glowed in the moonlight that was peeking through the window, and then he kissed him. It wasn’t one of their more graceful kisses, but Shiro felt himself being pressed against the wall, Adam’s arms caging him in on either side as he bit Shiro’s lip and asked for more. Shiro grabbed Adam’s belt loops and pulled him closer, causing a surprised gasp to escape Adam’s lips. Then Adam moved to kiss Shiro’s neck, biting and sucking until Shiro’s breathing became uneven and breathy. He wound his fingers through Adam’s hair and Adam started to go lower. Shiro laughed.

“We can’t do this in the hall, Adam. Knowing our luck Ives - Iverson will definitely catch us.”

“I don’t care,” Adam said simply, placing his hands on Shiro’s hips and sliding them up his shirt. Shiro let out another breathy gasp and he could almost feel his own pupils blow wide as he watched Adam with parted lips. “I’m so into you,” Adam said between kisses. “I don’t think you understand just how much I’m into you.” Shiro laughed again. Everything that Adam said sounded hilarious.

“I don’t think you understand how much I’m into you,” Shiro countered, his words sounding heavy and warm on his tongue. “I think the first time we kissed I almost sploded - exploded.”

“The first time we kissed I thought it was a dream,” Adam said easily, kneeling down to kiss Shiro’s hipbone.

“Adam -” Shiro gasped, his voice sounding a lot more uneven than he thought it would. Then he saw Adam looking up at him, his beautiful brown eyes half-lidded and soft.

“God I’m so in love with you, so in love that - that I -” Adam furrowed his brow in frustration. Then he laughed and shook his head. “I’m sorry, I’m too drunk to form a sentence right now. I want to tell you just how much I love you but I just - the words -” Adam laughed again and Shiro put a hand on his cheek.

“You don’t have to say anything. I already know,” Shiro said, giving him a lazy smile. Adam grinned up at him, and then his expression became more mischievous.

“Since I can’t tell you how I feel with words,” Adam began, placing his fingertips on Shiro’s beltbuckle. “How about I show you?” Shiro swallowed, his throat suddenly too dry.

“But Iverson -”

“It’s past his bedtime,” Adam assured him, beginning to play with Shiro’s beltbuckle. Then something buzzed in Shiro’s pocket and they both jumped. Shiro looked down at the pocket of his pants in confusion and then his eyes lit up in realization, clumsily pulling his phone out. He looked at the screen and then showed it to Adam. The timer was at zero.

“Looks like we lost,” Shiro said.

“Whoops,” Adam said with a smirk. He moved to stand up, clumsily wiping the knees of his pants. “I guess we should tell Lance and Keith that we failed. Shiro laughed.

“We failed horribly.”

“What can I say? You’re distracting even when we’re not drunk,” Adam said, weaving his arm through Shiro’s and leaning against him. They began to walk down the hallway, but then Shiro stopped. “What?” Adam asked.

“We’re going the wrong way,” Shiro said, looking over his shoulder at the other end of the hall. They looked at each other for a moment and began to laugh, their shoulders shaking. “We’re hopeless,” Shiro said, shaking his head.

“Two halves of a whole idiot,” Adam said. “How were we ever able to function on our own?”

With some effort and an embarrassing amount of wrong turns they managed to get back to Lance’s room, ready to tell him and Keith about their failed mission. But when they got there they found Lance and Keith passed out on Lance’s bed, the empty bottle of Nunvill on the side table. Shiro smiled at the two of them, seeing how Keith’s arms were wrapped around Lance like he was something delicate, seeing the way Lance face was nuzzled into Keith’s chest.

“Oh I am so tempted to take a picture,” Adam whispered, picking up the empty bottle. Then he turned to look at Shiro.

“You know that they’re totally into each other right?” Shiro nodded his head.

“I don’t think Keith realizes how much he talks about Lance when we train together.” Adam let out an amused huff.

“Back at the Garrison Lance couldn’t deal with his crush on Keith so he tried to convince me to kick Keith out of the program.” Shiro let out a surprised laugh and then quickly covered his mouth with his hands, looking at Lance and Keith with wide eyes and then breathing a sigh of relief when they didn’t move. Then he heard a click and turned to see Adam taking a picture of them before putting his phone back in his pocket. “I’m saving it for the slide show at their wedding,” Adam explained, and Shiro smiled, wrapping his arm around Adam’s waist and pressing a kiss on the top of his head.

“I’m so in love with you too,” Shiro said, “just so you know,” and he could feel Adam nuzzle into the crook of his neck.

“How about we let these two have their bonding moment,” Adam offered, and Shiro grinned, nodding his head in agreement. “And let’s finish having our own bonding moment,” Adam said, and Shiro’s eyes widened.

“Yeah, that’s a good idea,” Shiro whispered, hearing his voice crack a little. Adam chuckled softly and move to hold Shiro’s hand, leading him out of the room.

“Tomorrow let’s just tell them that we found it, and that we totally didn’t get lost on the ship we’ve been traveling in for almost a year.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Shiro said, and together they made it to their own room, Adam still leading Shiro by the hand. By the time they made it back the effects of the Nunvill had pretty much worn off, and they ended up falling asleep on the couch the moment they got through the door. Shiro couldn’t imagine anything more perfect.

#adashi #shadam #adashi fic #adam vld #shiro #takashi shirogane #klance #but just a little #cuz im trash and cant help myself

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