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paragon-writer · 1 year

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Study Break

this is a goku/gohan fic. if that’s not your thing, great, don’t read

Summary: Gohan should be studying for finals but Dad's back from training so, of course, nothing gets done. (Except for him)

Warnings: Inc*st but like duh yknow, nothing else! (maybe some sappiness)

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43655394

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When Goku is brought back to Earth by Whis he doesn’t go home to his wife and youngest son. Instead, he focuses on a ki signature that currently resides in West City.

The apartment he apparates in is neat and tidy except for the kitchen table which has papers strewn all over it and a hunched figure typing away at a laptop.

Goku smiles fondly at his son who clearly hasn’t noticed his arrival yet. He calls out, “Gohan.”

His son’s head of messy hair pops up from his concentrated posture and when he turns toward Goku a brilliant smile immediately lights up his face.

“Dad!”

He pushes out from the table and runs over to Goku who’s waiting with open arms. Their embrace is warm and heartening after weeks of not seeing one another.

Gohan pulls away but remains in the circle of Goku’s arms around his waist. “Did you just get back from Beerus’ planet?”

He receives an affirmative hum. “Beerus and Whis wanted to stock up on Earth food, courtesy of Bulma,” his eyes turn sly, “And you didn’t hear it from me, but Vegeta was definitely getting antsy without seeing her.”

Gohan chuckles. “Oh and there’s no one you were missing?”

Goku takes in his teasing expression and happy, shining eyes. His hands move to gently cup his son’s face and he leans down to press a kiss to Gohan’s lips.

Gohan earnestly reciprocates and the unmistakable sensation of being home washes over Goku.

He lets his lips linger as he separates from the other and he says in the air between them, “I missed you, baby.”

Pink coloring settles on Gohan’s cheeks and he responds, “I missed you, too,” he takes a breath and a beat, letting the words hang. Then, “Uhm, when are you going back?”

Goku thinks for a moment. “Probably in a few days, maybe a week.” It mostly depends on how long Beerus wants to stay to gorge himself, though Goku supposes can’t judge.

“And when are you going home?” Gohan continues.

Goku refrains from saying I am home. “Whenever you want me to?”

“Ha, nice answer,” Gohan says, wryly.

Gohan moves back over to the kitchen from where they were standing in the living room. He asks Goku if he wants anything to drink to which he declines. He follows his son like they’re connected by a retracting rope.

Having been recaptured by the older saiyan, Gohan lets his hands rest on Goku’s shoulders. “Seriously, though, you should go home. I know mom and Goten have missed you as much as I have,” he corrects himself, “almost as much as I have.”

Goku nods in acknowledgment. “I’ll head over soon,” he ducks his head to plant feathered kisses along the column of his neck and inquires, “What were you working on?”

Gohan sighs at the touch and his hands drop down to curl into the front of Goku’s gi. Breathily, he replies, “One of what feels like a billion assignments. It’s the end of the semester, so there’s a lot to do.”

Goku does not envy his son at all. He raises up so he can mouth at the skin of Gohan’s jaw. “Can I help you relieve some stress?” he asks with a grin clear in his voice.

Gohan sways into him for a moment but uses his hands on Goku’s chest to push him away with an apologetic frown, just enough so he can think more clearly. “I want to, but I really do need to get these assignments done and, if we start, we won't stop for hours.”

He’s got a point. Goku can recall several instances where he and Gohan weren’t productive in the way his mother and teachers would appreciate. Their time together has always been worth it in Goku’s opinion.

Gohan walks toward the table with his waiting homework, or rather, attempts to but is halted when Goku wraps an arm around his middle. He pulls him snug against his chest, and feels him lean into the contact despite knowing how it encourages Goku to convince him away from his scholarly duties.

Goku grazes his teeth along the shell of his son’s ear and revels in his son’s reactive shiver. He murmurs, “I’ll go easy on you this time.”

Gohan chuckles weakly and lays his hands on Goku’s arms as Goku’s slide under his tee shirt. “How generous, but somehow I doubt that.”

Goku noses at his temple, fingers brushing over Gohan’s abdomen. “I’ve been thinking about you these last couple of weeks. I would have instant transmitted here for a day or two if we weren’t so far away from Earth.”

Gohan seems surprised by this and turns his head so he can question him incredulously, “Really? Why would you want to interrupt your training?”

And people call him dense. “I wanted to touch you, Gohan. Wanted to be around you,” his voice lowers and he stares intently into his son’s eyes, “Wanted to be inside you.”

It’s true, though unusual for him. The desire has been a distracting buzz in the back of his mind and he thinks the sudden moratorium is also partially because of his lack of focus. He’s relieved nonetheless. It’s not like he could ask to be taken back to Earth so he can fuck his son.

Gohan bites his lip, flush returning to color his cheeks. He steps further into Goku’s embrace, having made up his mind. He says, lowly, “Homework can wait. Take me to the bedroom.”

Goku readily obliges.

________

His son is gorgeous like this. Goku has two fingers worked inside of Gohan as he lays between his legs. Gohan’s exposed chest stutters on shallow breaths and he can’t keep his hands still, alternating between clenching the covers and digging into Goku’s skin. His lips are shiny and red from how often their mouths have been drawn together; Goku imagines his own look quite similar. They probably also have matching splotches of bruised and broken skin on their necks and chests.

Goku happily notes the stray, dark indentation of teeth near his ribcage. He doesn’t know why it pleases him but wishes there were more, knows there’s something deeply satisfying about having his son’s marks on him.

He adds another finger, lube dribbling down his wrist, and Gohan sweetly moans as he uses the pads of his fingers to prod at his insides. Watching pleasure course through him is addictive. He hopes Gohan lets him take him apart again after the first time. He supposes he’ll have to give a convincing enough performance.

Gohan wraps an arm around him to bring their mouths together, forcing their lips and tongues to salaciously rub against each other. Gohan nips sharply at his bottom lip as they part and Goku raises an eyebrow, flicking his tongue out to soothe the stinging flesh. Gohan speaks, answering Goku’s unsaid question, “You were staring.”

Goku huffs, amused, and twists his fingers to angle at Gohan’s prostate. “What else should I be looking at?”

Gohan doesn’t answer for a few moments, incapable of doing so with the way he keens at the stimulation. Eventually, he rasps, “It’s- it’s the way you were staring.”

“And how was that?” Gokue sits up, letting his fingers slip out as he does, and fishes for the lube that had been discarded beside them.

“Like…” Gohan’s words trail off, hesitant. Goku smiles reassuringly as he drizzles lube in his hand and Gohan continues softly, “Like you’ll never have enough of me.”

Goku smooths his palm over his shaft, applying a generous amount of the liquid. He sees Gohan track the movement with his lust darkened eyes and allows himself to feel the heat of aroused anticipation.

“Gohan,” he begins while he leans over him, his son’s legs automatically wrapping around his waist, “I never will get enough of you.”

He guides himself into Gohan’s soft, slick entrance in one steady motion.

Gohan cries out, the sound met by Goku’s own pleasured groan. He braces his weight on one forearm and presses his other hand on Gohan’s lower back, tilting his hips up for a better angle.

Seconds pass, bodies unmoving. Goku revels in the feeling of his hips pressed against the other’s ass, basks in the gripping warmth his cock is buried in. He hears a whimper from Gohan and the hand in his hair tugs at the strands. He knows that’s Gohan telling him to move and he acquiesces, pulling out a couple inches before sinking back down.

Gohan’s whine is mostly a dissatisfied one but he repeats the thrust that’s more grinding than anything.

He presses soothing kisses down his cheek, jaw, and neck as he keeps shallowly plunging into his son.

Gohan, fed up with the tortuously unhurried pace, half sobs, “Come on, dad, give me more, please.”

Goku grunts with the effort of not accelerating, face pressed into Gohan’s shoulder. “Nngh, I wanna savor this, baby. Since I might not get to do it again,” he says referencing the responsibilities Gohan has to get back to. He shifts his hips so his cockhead directly juts into Gohan’s prostate.

“Hahh,” Gohan moans, fingernails scratching into Goku’s back. “You can fuck me as many times as you want. You know that. So, give it to me.”

A shudder wracks through Goku’s body at his son’s words. That’s all he needs to hear. Surging up onto his knees and squeezing Gohan’s hips, he pulls out to the tip before driving back in. The rhythm is brutal and exactly what they both have been craving.

The sound of skin slapping against skin and the scent of sex is a heady combination, muddling Goku’s head with a pleasant fog that only allows him to think of how perfect Gohan feels around him.

Gohan’s pleasured cries raise in intensity, spiking on every forward motion. His hole clenches down on Goku’s cock every time he pulls out, practically sucking him back in.

The urge to come is rising over the horizon and he focuses on bringing his son to that edge first, stroking his weeping cock in time with his thrusts, pace never faltering.

His eyes are laser focused on the flushed, lewd expression Gohan wears with his head tilted back, eyes screwed shut, and pretty mouth fixed into that moaning ‘O’ shape.

Goku meets those lips once more, licking into him and letting Gohan’s sounds flow into his own mouth. Several pumps later and Gohan is spilling into his hand with a muffled shout, legs tensing and trembling from their place around his waist.

Goku joins him moments later, releasing deep inside him. He fucks through the aftershocks, spreading his cum along every inch of Gohan’s walls before finally withdrawing his wet cock.

They both breathe heavily and Goku falls to the side of Gohan, immediately gathering his son’s limp body into his arms, back to chest. Gohan easily relaxes into the hold. He twines their fingers together over Gohan’s stomach and they languish in the sweet afterglow of their intimacy.

Gohan is the first to break the silence. “I can’t believe I almost passed that up for homework,” he says, tone lax and content.

Goku laughs. “Me neither.”

He buries his face in Gohan’s hair and lets their calmed breaths sync up. He doesn’t say any of the thoughts that flit through his mind; how he wants Gohan to come back to Beerus’ planet with him, how he wants him to start training again, how he doesn’t want to go home because this is the place on Earth he wants to be the most. There wouldn’t be any good to come from it.

He feels Gohan sit up and then he’s swinging a leg over Goku to straddle him. Gohan smiles down at him, lazily stroking their cocks back to hardness, using lube and cum to slick the way. “You ready to go again or are you losing steam?” he asks with a teasing lilt in his voice.

Goku rolls his eyes, a grin slipping onto his own lips. He runs his hands over Gohan’s thighs as the air between them begins to heat up again.

With certainty in his voice and a determined glint in his eyes, Goku says, “Sweetheart, we’re gonna be here all day.”

#goku/gohan #soncest #g/gh #gxgh #paragon writes

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t00thpasteface · 6 months

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i'm so relieved that people like my retrobat stuff bc i can tell tumblr definitely prefers two very specific batmans: Tortured Diesel DILF and Edward Cullen But Cooler. meanwhile i'm out here like

#i mean i COULD wax poetic about how serious/grounded stories don't necessarily have to humorless and grimdark #i think someone who is 100% brooding all the time is just as cartoonish and wacky as someone who is always 100% silly #if anything it comes off as insecure. like omg look how serious i am guys!! i made batman unfunny and cruel and abusive!!#i think there's a lot to chew on with a guy who is miserable and traumatized but still at the end of the day a paragon and optimist #if he wasn't ultimately optimistic and big-hearted he wouldn't be doing literally any of this shit lbr he'd just shoot guys and go home #like look man if you wanna write the next great gutwrenching american novel maybe don't pick a single dad in a fursuit as your protag sorry #IF I WANTED SERIOUS NAVELGAZING I'D READ HEMINGWAY. WHICH I ENJOY AS WELL #shebbz shoutz #batman #dc

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grammarpedant · 3 months

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Stories are not unquestionably umproblematic, is what I'm trying to say. Trashy tv saves lives, and propaganda changes minds, and the opiate of the masses keeps them pacified. Among other things. Stories are a tool through which we understand and grapple with self and non-self and the relationships between. Stories are a tool through which we communicate with others, and exert influence on the thing called society. Stories are important, but not always life-saving, or comforting, or even feel-good. Where are the stories about stories that understand that stories are not inherently good or bad, as a moral entity, but can only be said to be good or bad at what stories do?

#not specifically about murderbot #paragon and the dragon #meta #stories about stories #storytelling #verso writes

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raayllum · 5 months

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Been thinking recently about the idea in fandom that boils down to, usually, "the Character that Changes the most being deemed 'the most complex'" and that character development (i.e. character change) being held up as The Golden Standard of a Good Character and...

I fundamentally disagree, but first, a little bit more explanation about what I mean

Very often shows and movies, when being recommended on tumblr, are sold on the basis of having enjoyable/in-depth characters. Often times this also means conflating enjoyable with likeable, but that's a discussion post for another day. And even more often, it means there are characters who are seen as Deep because of how radically they change over the course of a story.

Lots of times, this falls into two camps:

Characters change radically, but early on in the story, and remain largely the same past that point of change (think anytime in a first season) until the end of the story

People recommending shows based on characters having traditional redemption arcs (enemy or bully to friend / good guy / love interest)

Now, I'm not saying that 1) character change can't be deep or 2) that character growth is bad. Neither of those things are true, even subjectively. What I am saying is that 1) character change / a character changing is not the same as automatically being a good, interesting, or well written character and 2) character growth is not the be-all-end-all of character writing. Yes, there can be problems with characters be overly stagnant, but typically that's only an issue if 1) a work is serialized and concerned with character development and they don't change at all, 2) a character never adjusts (rightly or wrongly) according to their mistakes, or 3) all of the above but they're a main character.

However, assuming that Character A has to be radically different at the beginning of a story in terms of their personality/values/etc. as they are at the end of the story is just... not how it works, necessarily. This is, I think, one of the reasons why antagonists who get redemption arcs tend to be more popular than heroes who had good values the whole time, because there's more opportunity to point and go "look, they've changed! they act on and have basic compassion now!" Which, fair enough, but again: other types of characters are fine too.

Particularly for characters fandom tends to have the hardest time with: paragons.

Paragons are characters who are usually the central hero, pretty morally if not entirely moral upstanding, and because they already start out in a place of "always doing the right thing," they rarely radically change by the end of the story. Instead, paragons are used to progress theme/messaging and inspire other characters around them to change (a good example might be Buddy from the Christmas movie Elf and to a lesser extent - as he's more transformative as a character - Aang from Avatar: The Last Airbender, who's there to return childhood to his friends as an ideal and carry on Air Nomad values).

And for TDP, that's Ezran.

He's the youngest in the main cast and by far the most measured. While Callum and Rayla are off fighting, he keeps a level head. He assumes responsiblity largely without guilt, holds other people accountable most often without being cruel, he's kind and deeply compassionate, he shows regular empathy for his enemies even when he has to treat them like enemies, he loves his father but does not idealize him, he is king without craving power, he's trusting and honest and while he has his flaws (overly optimistic, his passivity, sometimes struggles to consider other people's emotions, naivety, etc), they - as of yet - are not overly connected to his sense of morality (which is a distinct difference compared to the rest of the main cast).

Now, TDP is less concerned with the theme of Childhood compared to something like ATLA, but Ezran being a child (again, in a way the rest of the cast is not) is also very important. Ezran, and Callum to a lesser extent, is the embodiment of the concept that children aren't born with hatred in their hearts; it's learned, or earned, through experience, society, and suffering. And as Ezran spells out for us in 4x03, he has suffered and been hurt - and he believes in breaking the cycle and believing in hope for a better future anyway.

Ezran's steadfast reflection of the series' core theme of "true strength - to break the cycle - is found in vulnerability, in forgiveness, in love" in both word and action does make him the closest thing to a paragon in the series. He's the one who finds the egg; he's the one who forgives Rayla and Soren; he's the one who still tries to help Claudia; he's the peacemaker, the literal bridge between peoples and species in spite of witnessing so many of their worst crimes/actions.

In both arcs, there tended to be a trio of characters who rapidly change, and a trio of characters who are more, comparatively, stagnated. Early S1 Rayla, Callum, and Soren are radically different in a ton of ways than they are even at the beginning of S3, but especially by the end. On the other hand, Viren - post 1x03 at least - Claudia and Ezran are far more consistent in arc 1; their circumstances change, but their viewpoints and realities and choices are largely the same from season to season - they just keep doubling down. This doesn't mean they don't change at all, but they don't radically transform - they just become more of what they already are.

I'd say that in arc 2, things have switched up, with Callum, Rayla, and Viren being the three who are radically transformed (thus far) with Soren, Claudia, and Ezran still being in the more stagnated corner. (For more notes on Claudia and Ezran's shared passivity, check out this pre-S4 meta.)

Ezran starts out the series as a good hearted, slightly mischevious little boy who loves his family and believes that people can be good. The point of the series is not to change these parts of him. It's to demonstrate the difficulties - losing both his parents, taking on the kingship, struggling to make the right choices, keeping his friends together, caring about peace and sentiment in a world that increasingly does not - of maintaining those positive traits, again, in a world that is determined to test those ideals and attributes.

Ezran is not here to be transformed by the storm, the same way his friends and some of his companions are. He is here to demonstrate the strength and necessity in weathering the storm so that the world cannot make you cold, or uncaring, or violent, even when those paths and emotions would be much easier to go down.

Good character development isn't about changing your character; it's about changing your audience's understanding and perspective of your character. Sometimes that means the character is also changing simultaneously, but that's far from a requirement for a character to be interesting. Like most things in writing, what it really boils down to is execution.

And I could go on about why I think people gravitate towards characters who start off evil (often part of imperialist empires or older, institutionally backed systems) and learn that the evil was wrong actually (and sometimes not even that) but that's a meta for another day, and this one is long enough.

TLDR; Ezran, like a few other characters in the show - antagonists and protagonists alike - is not meant to be a radically transformative, even though he very much has grown and changed. Instead, he's meant to exemplify the importance of not losing your sense of self in an increasingly cruel or difficult world, and what parts we should arguably try our best to hold onto as well.

#writing advice #tdp #as an example #analysis series #analysis #tdp ezran #ezran #the dragon prince #writeblr #i've always preferred paragons / non traditional redemption arcs so my preferences are #very opposed to general tumblr's but not at all surprising #also don't think i need to spell out why paragons would be particularly compelling for ND / autistic folks

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nonbinarylesbianherb · 2 months

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reading 'paragon' by bloodywar2411 on AO3, only 33/84 chapters in but I completely understand why people call it the 'hannigram bible'

fantastic writing

#hannibal x will #hannigram #hannibal #will graham #fanfic #paragon #hannigram fanfiction #very good writing I love it #ao3 fanfic

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novantinuum · 2 months

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Fandom: Steven Universe Rating: Teen Audiences Words: 6.0K~ Summary: In another world, he doesn’t have his mother’s sword or shield to hide behind when Bismuth lands her strike. The bubble pops. Steven falls apart. Chapter summary: In which what was once hidden becomes known.

It's been a long road getting here folks, but here we are! Almost three years after my last update, we're back on the road. I will provide the first chunk of the chapter here on my blog as a preview- but later stuff is going to be weird to format here, so please follow the AO3 link above to check out the whole thing.

If you read this and enjoy, I’d greatly appreciate your support through reblogs here, or kudos/comments on AO3. Thank you! <3

Chapter 14: system/REBOOT, Part 2

The smoke obscures everything at first, filling this barren crack in the planet’s crust to its brim. Firmly engulfed within this plume, Ruby’s surroundings are electrified with an air of static uncertainty, an uncertainty so stark that— riding upon the wake of it— the very potential of Garnet’s future vision itself would’ve surely been rendered null and void. After all, as she’s personally experienced, such power of foresight is never completely immune to lapses in accuracy upon the advent of unexpected happenings. And she’s pretty damn certain that this… that instantly familiar warm glow she spotted, wholly enveloping Steven and Amethyst’s forms as they embraced… would count as unexpected.

Her jaw drops as a tall figure emerges from between currents of receding smoke, light pink freckles dusting their shoulders and cheeks like glistening constellations. Chocolate brown gemstones are visible upon their chest and the center of their large belly, one circular and the other irregularly pentagonal. They proudly brandish Amethyst’s leggings and Steven’s star— the salmon pink shirt having stretched into a strappy crop-top across their broad upper body. Most notably though, they appear to have three arms, two of them linked at the elbow and able to bend freely from the other. As the fusion shifts upon their heels, a thick fringe of wavy dark hair falls in front of one of their eyes… eyes which are perpetually glowing with the very same pink irises and diamond pupils Steven exhibits whenever he’s using his powers, and blown wide with shock as they attempt to process the distinct meaning of their existence for the very first time.

And boy oh boy, does Ruby sure understand that feeling. Going off of the narratives she always hears from humans, the experience of two Gems’ first dance and synchronization is somewhat akin to a baby learning to walk. It’s all untested, all brand new. And despite any amount of confusion or trepidation one might face in such a circumstance, no one else in all the universe is more equipped than you to take those first steps.

Regardless, the fusion moves right past their initial surprise to produce the most genuine, star-bright grin Ruby’s seen all week, and triumphantly pumps all three fists in the air. “What a beautiful day!” they proclaim.

Appearing suitably annoyed by their sudden attendance in this spar, their Beta kindergarten opponent harshly grinds their right foot into the soil, their face screwing into a sour grimace as they demand to know who this new Gem is supposed to be.

Now, if either one of them— Amethyst or Steven— were facing this mighty quartz’s questioning individually, Ruby’s sure they’d be doomed to crumble under the pressure. After all, Steven’s only a child, and Amethyst is cripplingly insecure. But the inherent magic of fusion is that the combination of two or more Gems is always stronger than the sum of their parts. They’re a physical embodiment of the bond held between each other, of their camaraderie and affection and love. And it’s that very love… that inner strength and belief in one other, regardless of circumstance… that blossoms into a brand new facet of existence, given life through the sheer depth of their connection.

It’s for this reason this fusion is capable of brushing off the ferocity of Jasper’s words like they’re nothing but crumbling granules of sandstone dirtying their shirt. Brimming with a renewed lease of confidence, they summon their weapons, make a grand show of fusing them into one, and proudly name themself Smoky Quartz.

“Wait— has Steven ever fused with one of you before?” Peridot asks her with burning curiosity, her expression still partially frozen in a dumbfounded little ‘o.’

“With his friend, yes— but never with a Gem,” Ruby says, her chest puffing out with considerable pride. “This is his first time!” Then, cupping her mouth with her hands, and unable to dampen that intense vindictive streak she currently harbors against their foe: “Go get her, Smoky! Make her regret she ever formed!”

The fusion serves up a snappy finger gun with their unladen hand. “You got it! One party trick coming right up…”

Flashing the two of them an almost impish smirk, Smoky doesn’t waste a single second. Immediately following a groan worthy pun about yo-yos, they catapult their weapon— a double shield linked on a central axel and tethered to Amethyst’s whip— high into the sky and back down upon Jasper, hitting her thrice in the face and gut and knocking her a few steps back.

Peridot lets out a gleeful peel of laughter as she watches this unbelievable turn of their tides, clutching a hand to her heaving chest.

Seething red, Jasper gains her bearings upon her feet once more and charges towards them with the flat of her helmet barred.

Smoky’s eyes flare wide with urgency. “Wha-oh!”

They artfully cartwheel out of the way, and manage a perfect side dodge as their opponent attempts to sling her fist directly into their face.

It’s glorious form. Absolutely impeccable by any means of assessment. In truth, Ruby thinks the odds have never been so steeply tipped in their favor while fighting against this stubborn, infuriating Homeworld Gem. So why does she still find herself powerless to quell that oh-so-familiar panic rising like coastal storm surge within her core? Why can’t she dispel the shadowy reminder of all the terrifying what-ifs that taunt her day-in and day-out, possibilities she’s unable to sort through on her own, possibilities she’s unable to truly see?

Because without Sapphire, Ruby’s just a ruby. She’s nothing, no one. It doesn’t matter how far she runs from her lowly Homeworld origins; she’ll never erase the damning, bitter fact that Gems like her were created to be replaced. And stars, everyone keeps looking to her as a leader, but she doesn’t know what she’s doing at all! Her cut of Gem wasn’t built for leadership. She didn’t come here hungering for a fight! She only followed the others to this shards-forsaken wasteland of a kindergarten because she wanted to protect them, and look at all the good that brought: an army of caged, corrupted Gems guarded by an enemy she’s grown too timid to face head-on, even though that’s literally the entire point of her!

Just, ugh—!

What a useless protector she makes.

…But maybe she’s enough to protect at least one of them. After all, her role as one of Sapphire’s guardians wasn’t all fighting and punching. The other rubies and her would also spend time discussing strategy, overseeing the whereabouts of their assignment, and keeping an eye on their immediate environment in case they need to act upon any abrupt predictions from Her Clarity. And in such moments of peril, their most important duty was to escort their assignment to a safe distance. It’s a fact of life that’s deceptively easy for a soldier like her to forget.

So, is that it, then?

Is that her purpose in this scenario?

Should she place her focus on ushering Peridot away from this battle, instead of becoming an active participant?

(Or is she just mining for ways to excuse the coward’s way out?)

Outright quivering in her boots, Ruby grabs Peridot by the arm and begins to pull her away from the heart of this battle. Her friend, however, tugs back in overt resistance.

“Wait— we can’t leave yet, I can fight!” she cries, jabbing her pointer towards the iron bars caging one of the corrupted quartzes within the excavated cliffside. “I’ve got my metal powers!”

Sweat beads on her forehead as she flushes, sinking ever deeper into the brambles of her shame. “But I, uh- I just think Smoky’s got it handled, y’know? Wouldn’t wanna get in their way, or nothin’…”

“Are you kidding?? They’re brawling against Jasper! They can use all the help they can get!”

With zero warning whatsoever, the business end of their fusion friend’s yo-yo zips towards their heads, only narrowly leaving them time to duck. They watch with slack-jawed amazement as Smoky utilizes their weapon’s stored inertia to securely wind the cord around Jasper’s torso and launch them clear into the sky. Gravity’s most primal nature dictates that what goes up must always come down, however, because mere seconds later the Homeworld Gem plummets into the chalky ground so hard that she leaves behind a small crater. A plume of rusty brown dust explodes from the collision point, entirely engulfing Ruby and Peridot.

The two of them cough as the powdery soil settles once more and visibility is restored.

“On second thought,” the former kindergartener proclaims as she brushes the debris off her unitard, “perhaps we should give them some room.”

She nods, grabbing her by the hand once more and leading her up the path to safety. Perfect, one friend protected. And as an added bonus, they can stand on the raised shelf at the far edge of this natural amphitheater (the one Amethyst treaded across before getting the sneak on Jasper a few minutes ago) and still have a clear sight of the battle.

…A battle which, going off her years of combat experience and her intimate knowledge of the parties involved, just might roll to a victorious end for Smoky in the near future. For the obvious reasons she can’t offer this prediction with any degree of confidence, but regardless, its likelihood seems to be surging skywards with each and every failed retaliating strike Jasper attempts. She’s panicking, Ruby can tell. That stubborn, reputation-obsessed Gem can attempt to hide it all she likes, but if one knows what to look for the signs are obvious. Her eyes are blown as wide as her own exit hole as she scries her surroundings for any possible advantage, and her stance has grown awkward and stiff— the very image of a traditionally offensive fighter who has been forced to assume defensive strategies for the first time in her existence.

Which is to say, the brute’s been violently knocked out of her comfort zone.

Fuming with obstinate desperation, Jasper flicks the dirt off her uniform with the back of her hand and throws herself into a viciously fast spin dash, molten bright embers trailing behind as she surges straight towards Smoky Quartz. Thankfully, the fusion sees this potential strike coming a mile away. Licking their lips, they launch their yo-yo so that its body wraps around a narrow outcropping of stone jutting out from the cliffs above them. The weapon grips the dense rock like a grappling hook. They whoop in well-earned victory, swinging up and over Jasper’s attack as effortlessly as a petal dancing on the wind.

Helpless to halt her momentum, the Beta Kindergarten quartz slams headfirst into the far cliff wall. Despite her deep-set animosity towards her Ruby can’t help but cringe at the awful clash of the impact, clutching her own vulnerable gem ever tighter within her palm. Chaos explodes. Hand-dug prisons are torn apart. This forsaken crack in the Earth is filled with clamoring footsteps once more as Jasper’s corrupted Gems claim their long-stolen freedom, fleeing in every direction.

“No!” the soldier hollers, arm outstretched as she clambers to her knees. “My army!”

Smoky lands on the ground in a sturdy crouch a few feet away. “You ready to chill out, yet?” they ask with slitted eyes, Ruby sensing a hint of Amethyst’s bitter anger seeping into their otherwise affable demeanor. “Or d’ya need another few rounds?”

Jasper falls to her hands, seemingly too exhausted to push herself to her full height at this time. Breathing heavy, she lets out a wry peal of laughter, a sound that quickly warps and bends into an emotion that’s as unrecognizable as it is unnerving as she drags her fingers inwards, scouring thick gouges in the rusty soil.

“Jaspers… never… give… up,” she huffs, her orange irises glowing like the rejuvenating embers of a rebounding wildfire as she tilts her face up to regard them head-on.

And this is where the winds of fate begin to shift.

The embers catch.

The dry brush underfoot erupts into a violent rush of flame.

Jasper quickly averts her eyes from Smoky, her wanting gaze falling upon the lone cage still left intact, its metal bars not destroyed by her prior collision with the wall. Within… stands the last Gem of her corrupted army, roaring in clear displeasure at the frenzy of commotion occurring outside. The quartz delivers a devious, knowing smirk as they slide their zealous glance away from that captive Gem and back to Smoky.

Ruby hates to admit it, but she knows exactly what she’s planning. She’s already seen this type of emotion flit across Jasper’s features before, months back when she emerged from the burning rubble of her ship— humiliated by her defeat at the hands of a being she deemed impure— and caught a fleeing Lazuli by the wrist. She’s seen it from Pearl, who— feeling just as inadequate and small as she herself does this very second— ultimately stumbled under the pressure and made one of the biggest mistakes of her whole life. Hell, Ruby’s experienced this desire herself, albeit in a far different context… lovely and love-sick amidst Sapphire’s abrupt departure, briefly entertaining a fleeting, selfish thought that she dares not act upon.

Fusion-lust.

Jasper intends to force a fusion with the last corrupted quartz still held captive in her prison.

She grits her teeth, thousands upon thousands of possible futures full of her own cowardice and hesitation burning to blackened cinders under the heat of her fury. Fusion is special. Fusion is sacred! It’s like… a feeling brought to life, a spellbinding rush of togetherness, the mystifying sensation of becoming someone who— on the metaphoric scale of things— must’ve burst into some intangible form of existence the very moment a fusion’s partners first met. Despite whatever twisted rhetoric Homeworld may spew to the Gems chained under its rule, fusion definitely isn’t meant to be a means of increasing one’s power. It isn’t meant to be used as a mode of control or coercion. And stars above, she’ll be damned if she lets anyone abuse this special type of relationship on her planet.

No more hiding.

No more hesitation.

The only soul in this entire Kindergarten who can put an end to this is her.

“Peridot!” she calls, grasping her friend by the shoulders to capture her full attention. “There’s no time to explain, but I have a plan. When I call for you, use your metal powers to break open that last cage, right down there!”

Peridot’s expression— halfway obscured behind her tinted visor— spins with ample confusion amidst the abruptness of this request. “B-but I thought we were spectating!”

Ruby bites at her lip, averting her nervous gaze for just a moment, just long enough to contemplate all the impulsive choices that have led her to the edge of this impossibly steep precipice. All of her insecurity, her terror, her doubt. Every timid half-step forwards, inevitably followed by a full step back. In many ways, she feels as if she hasn’t committed to a single fearless act since the day she pushed her love out of a rebel’s striking range and singlehandedly changed the entire course of reality. Where’d that Ruby go? The Ruby who dares to create ripples with every fiery footfall?

And most importantly— for the good of her planet, for the good of her family— can she become that Gem again?

“I can’t just watch…” she admits, clenching her fists at her side. “Not anymore. I’m going in.”

Steeling herself for the jump, she lowers to her haunches, nervously tapping her fingers against her gem-less palm.

“This is for you, Sapphy,” she whispers to herself, and then surges upwards into a sprint.

Her toes leave the ground right at the rocky shelf’s edge.

Hollering in furious dissent, the squat Gem practically soars over the Homeworld-aligned quartz thanks to the subtle updrafts produced by the waves of flame fanning out from her feet. She barely has time to process the confusion wresting control of Jasper’s otherwise confident countenance— or the wide, knowing grin Smoky levels towards her— as she triumphantly lands upon the battlefield and sets her plan roaring into motion.

Ruby clutches her gem tight within her grasp (a long-held defensive habit she can never seem to shake), and bursts into a fiery sprint around her foe. The intense friction and heat only feeds the white hot blaze licking up around her feet as she traces a full circle around Jasper, locking her securely within a cage of fire. This ring won’t last forever, but it’s good enough as a distraction for what comes next.

“Peridot, now!” she shouts, desperately hoping her friend can hear her over the untamed roar of the inferno she’s generating… desperately hoping her new metal powers work this time and help her set that poor corrupted Gem free.

But despite the crushing anxiety of all these unknowns, she doesn’t dare take her eyes off her foe as she continues to spiral around her, pushing the scorching walls of this prison ever inwards. She doesn’t dare let up her pace, doesn’t dare allow Jasper even an inch of leeway to escape. The gemstone inlaid within her palm pulsates with an intense thrum of energy, burning brighter than it has her entire five thousand nine hundred years of existence. A breathless, lilting laugh slips from between her lips, tinged with tones of relief and sheer, boundless exhilaration. So this is what true bravery feels like, true power. This is what it feels like to genuinely be a Crystal Gem— not merely by proxy of the fusion she forms, but as her own person, too.

Far beyond her inferno’s ceaseless thrum, she can make out the rusty moans of bending metal… the victorious roar of the last corrupted quartz as it pushes free from its damaged cage and bolts away from this cursed amphitheater. She lets out a whoop of delight, pumping her fists to the sky.

And then her gambit falls apart.

Jasper’s own fist connects with her cheek before Smoky can even holler her name in warning, the impact knocking her clear out of her spiraling sprint and face first into the chalky soil underfoot. She hacks and coughs lying there amidst the resultant plume of dust, vying with every facet of her being not to crumple under the dawning prospect of having to defend herself in solo combat. Her jaw aches, but not enough to dampen her resolve. Not now. Not yet. Instead— standing stubbornly to her feet— she grits her teeth, summons her gauntlets, and swings back.

The mighty kindergarten quartz ducks effortlessly. She grins, the midday sun glinting off the edge of her helm’s visor, and then positions herself for the final strike.

[Continue to AO3 via link above for the rest]

#su #steven universe #ruby #peridot #jasper #smoky quartz #amethyst #su fanfiction #steven universe fanfiction #my writing stuff #crack the paragon

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babycupart · 1 year

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replayed me3 for the first time in years and all the feelings i have for these two came crashing back. hopefully this is cropped enough to not get flagged. anyway, here’s a little fic under the cut to accompany this, enjoy ;) 🥴👇

“That’s it. You’re doing so well, sweetheart.” ...

The Commander’s skin feels hot against Kaidan’s lips. With each inhale, his body quivers. Muscles bunched up tight with the strain of keeping himself upright, arms locked at the elbows. Gently pulling the foreskin down, using the pad of his thumb, Kaidan spreads the clear liquid oozing from Shepard’s tip over the fat head of his cock. Shepard bites down on his lower lip, brows furrowing as his eyes close shut.

Kaidan is aware that Shepard is an attractive man, even if the Commander himself doesn’t acknowledge it. Too modest and good to admit such a thing. “I’m just a soldier, Kay. Nothing special,” he’d say. Like he was just average, an ordinary Alliance marine. But Kaidan knows that the Commander is anything but ordinary. And now, like this, bare and gasping for air under his touch, Commander Shepard is the most beautiful thing Kaidan has ever seen.

“God, John, look at you.”

Kaidan twists his hand on the upstroke and it forces the breath out from between Shepard’s lips. “So pretty… so good…” Nuzzling along Shepard’s neck, Kaidan leaves a trail of kisses along the tiny freckles that reach down to his shoulders. Kaidan places words of praise against John’s skin, nonsensical verbalizations of love and affection that leaves the Commander gasping and breathless.

After a few strokes, John is leaking all over Kaidan’s hand, making the glide up the thick length that much smoother. Kaidan has never seen a man get so wet like Shepard does. There’s barely any need for lubricant at this point. “So good. You’re doing so good for me, love.”

The attention and praise has John shaking, chest heaving with each labored breath. His hands clutch at the sheets beneath them, grip knuckle-white. Kaidan tightens his grip and Shepard releases a long, low whine. Barely audible, Kaidan feels it more in the rumble of Shepard’s chest, the way his abdomen clenches up, the flexion making prominent each individual cut of oblique and rectus abdominis muscle. His skin breaks out in goosebumps at the feel of biotic pressure, the barely contained power coursing through the Commander’s nervous system, nearly bursting out in flashes of blue.

“Just like that, baby. There you go. Just like that.”

A startled groan dislodges itself from the back of John’s throat. Shepard is mostly quiet during sex, military discipline so ingrained into him. Kaidan can definitely relate, knows how difficult it is to let loose, to trust another enough to be vulnerable. It’s taken patience and practice on both their parts to get to this point, for Shepard to give voice to his pleasure. And much to Kaidan’s delight and surprise, a few words of encouragement is all John needs to have him moaning and groaning.

Kaidan lets go of his grip to lavish attention on the underside of John’s cock, where he’s most sensitive. With just the lightest of touches the reaction is almost immediate - a drawn out high-pitched keen, a sound Kaidan has never heard from the Commander before. His own cock twitches in response in the confines of his boxer briefs, the ache almost unbearable.

Kaidan repeats the motion and John’s hips nearly fly off the bed, the athletic bulk of his quads quaking as his heels dig into the mattress. A strangled hiss through his teeth as Shepard’s head hangs low, eyes hooded and pupils blown out wide, almost black. A light sheen of sweat covers his body, along with the lovely pink flush of his cheeks.

Kaidan takes John’s erection back into his grip, the movement slow and deliberate. It makes John choke on a sob, the sound needy and desperate and Kaidan knows he’s nearly at the edge of climax. His free hand comes to Shepard’s hip, pressing soothing motions along his flank. “I’m right here. Right here with you. Tell me what you need, baby.”

John takes a few inhales before he can even speak, and not once does Kaidan stop, stroking with a grip too light bordering on torture. “K-Kay… I- nngghh. I can’t- I- ah!”

Reduced to an incoherent mess, hips thrusting in time to meet the rhythm of Kaidan’s hand, stifled moans at each interval. Kaidan takes mercy on the poor Commander, slick-wet sounds becoming louder and obscene in the walls of Shepard’s cabin as his grip tightens, stroking in a flurry of movement.

Kaidan speaks the words against John’s neck, right below his ear, “It’s okay, I’ve got you.” The words, the love, the tight slick heat of his hand has John wordlessly gasping and whimpering, toes curling, fingers twisting as he comes undone. Whole body trembling as thick ropes of cum paint the faintly scarred surface of his torso.

Kaidan follows John through the aftershocks, wringing out every last drop of his orgasm, watching as John’s breathing slowly returns to normal. Shepard gently pries his hand away from the oversensitive flesh, while Kaidan kisses along his neck, tracing mindless patterns with his clean hand along John’s hip.

#mass effect #mshenko #male shepard #kaidan alenko #im writing this shep as a biotic specifically earthborn and paragon #but yeah i think shepard has an enormous praise kink and gets off just from hearing kaidan’s voice #wrote this in one go so any mistakes are on me #my art #my specialty of drawing characters against white backgrounds knows no bounds etc etc #stop the sanitization and censoring of social media so i can post porn!!!#fornax

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compacflt · 1 year

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i am pretty solidly anti-fic printing except when its my fic that i wrote & i want to hold it in my hands for editing purposes

final (final!!!!) edit & slider one-shot inbound soon

#look im a leftist who writes top gun fanfic i can’t claim to be #a paragon of morality or anything #ohhhhhh boy are there a lot of edits to make #the problem is I wrote 90% of the fic only having seen tgm ONCE #which of course fucked everything up #it’s why i made ice responsible for rooster’s whole deal #& then i rewatched TGM and i was like. Fuck.#anyway now I’m just trying to make all the pieces line up #& get the style consistent cause phew there are some Wack ass moments in here #when we get around to talking about it #top gun #top gun maverick #icemav #pete maverick mitchell #tom iceman kazansky #top gun fanfiction #I designed the cover & am very proud of my typsetting job

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emmettkane · 18 days

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Stuff

Hey, reminder that I make stuff! (and if you like that stuff here's my Ko-fi) ✨Boom✨ - The Little Paragons - A horror/thriller short story exploring life in a supernatural cult from the point of view of several of its members. ✨Bam✨ - The Redhaven Delegate - Biweekly drama/horror series set in my cool, kickass dieselpunk setting, Redhaven! ✨Alakazam✨ - A SECRET NEW THING???

THAT'S RIGHT BITCHES THIS IS AN ANNOUNCEMENT POST!

Now introducing: Ghost Bricks, the first in a two part post-apocalyptic fiction series!

--- Between the apocalypse(s), actual magic, nature-defying mutant monstrosities, and hordes of opportunistic mercenaries and bandits, very little makes sense in the world today. Tiberius, Asher, and Sloan, a trio of young scavengers bound by common loss, do their best to make it work anyway. ---

Ghost Bricks will be releasing late Summer/early Fall of this year, so be on the lookout for updates! (Or sign up to my mailing list here)

#writing #writblr #announcement #big update #self promo #trd #the redhaven delegate #emmett kane #tlp #the little paragons

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daisywords · 24 days

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as someone who was raised with a comparatively healthy mindset around food, I keep being baffled/concerned by other people’s eating practices that they’ll just drop like it’s no big deal. “I’m doing this intermittent fasting thing where I only eat one meal a day” girl if your one meal is the salad you eat every day for lunch I’m. that’s eating disorder behavior. and they talk about this stuff like it’s normal! “I’m trying out this new meal plan where—“ oh a starvation diet? You’re starving yourself?

#anyway spending time with a couple of my coworkers especially is making me dig in my heels #I’m eating three square meals a day! And I’m not budging on that! And I’m not going to be embarrassed about it!#Bc the worst thing is like. would I like to lose 20 pounds? Admittedly yeah #But idk I don’t think that’s the right way to do it!#Not that I am a paragon of physical fitness or anything but like! That’s literally unhealthy you are wrecking your metabolism probably #I would rather be a little squishy then live in this weird alternate universe where people are supposed to be on a diet by default!!!#and idk when girl that are already small are putting themselves through this and getting noticeably smaller it’s like #ok good for you I guess but is it worth it?#mostly writing this to reassure myself because it’s hard not to feel like I’m the one that’s wrong #idk if you feel like you need to lose weight logically you must think I’m some sort of beast or something #like I thought I was normal but maybe not haha #But anyway I hate how we just slapped new jargon on eating disorder behavior so we can talk #About it like its a health trend and something normal to do

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frevandrest · 7 months

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Why are Girondins so annoying?

Lmao, Robespierre, is that you?

Seriously, tho... Not sure why (if?) others find them annoying so I can't comment on that (I have some ideas, but I can't speak for others). Personally, I am not an expert on Girondins so I don't focus on them so much. I don't think they were "the best option" (not with the whole "protect propertyyyyyyy!!!!!!!!!!!1111" shit that they had going on), and I disagree with a lot of stuff, though I do think some of them had some based takes.

But honestly? I am mostly annoyed at today's (mis)understanding of Girondins and flop takes that come with it. They are somehow remembered as these level-headed, "good" revolutionaries who want change but through democratic TM and not violent means... When they are the group who advocated for the fucking war that claimed hundreds of thousands of people (and also messy bitches who attacked their opponents - they were not somehow above that stuff).

Look. I love learning and researching frev. I like it even when the content is difficult or when I disagree with historical people. It's just so interesting to me. But I have a short patience for flop takes about frev that are just factually incorrect but try to sound profound (or, worse, like activism). Bad "feminist" takes are there, but also a lot of bullshit and misinformation about other things. Liking Girondins is often not about Girondins at all - it is about criticizing Montagnards, which is often based on incorrect info (biased Anglo takes, Thermidorian takes, horribly inaccurate online takes, etc.) If one wants to hate frev/Montagnards/Robespierre/whoever, be my guest, but at least be correct about it. Unfortunately, Girondins attract a lot of bad/incorrect takes precisely because of their reputation as "good" revolutionaries, which means people interpret them through today's lens, which in turn makes it very, very annoying to read.

#i for one would welcome a girondin expert around here #someone who knows their writings and ideas #so they can share them #it's how this community works on its best imo #different people with different interests researching their thing and telling us #it's cool even when we disagree #but man having today's anglos or whoever think girondins were paragons of democracy and equality the way we understand it today sucks #full disclaimer i know montagnards and robespierre have the same effect on some people #i mean on us here trying to explain thermidorian bullshit and getting too invested which can make some people annoyed by robespierre #or us getting too invested in frev in general #so this is not about people being passionate or invested or hyperfixating or even annoying as a result of that #it's about knowing history and wtf was going on #and also #it's just not the same when one is a flop mainstream take and another one is seen as borderline simping for hitler or whatever #because 'girondins good democratic' takes mean 'montagnards evil violent proto hitler proto commie monsters' and you can't separate the two #and it's typically done without any actual knowledge of history or what happened in frev #ask #anonymous #frev

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paragon-writer · 2 years

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Chapter 2: Midnight Interlude

Goku/Gohan

Beware, there be incest in these parts. don’t like, don’t read!

----

When Goku awoke, it was to a rumbling stomach and a dark room. He briefly considers going back to sleep but the ache of hunger dismisses the notion. Instead, he uses the hand not wrapped around his son’s waist to clear his eyes. In this position, extricating himself from Gohan will be difficult but, similar to himself, the half blooded saiyan is usually a heavy sleeper.

Goku takes a moment to savor the weight of Gohan snuggled into his side, soft breaths puffing along the skin of his neck, and carefully rolls the other onto his back before fully exiting their slumbered embrace.

Gohan grumbles a bit, shifts into a more comfortable position, and settles back down. An amused smile creeps onto Goku’s lips. He remembers Gohan acting similarly when he was a child, getting all pouty when he or Chichi would put him to bed when he fell asleep on one of them. It was cute back then. Goku thinks it still is now.

With the bare amount of moonlight filtering in through curtain-covered floor to ceiling windows, Goku stepped over the plush carpet to the door, taking care to keep his steps quiet. He doesn’t bother putting clothes on with the summer air warming the interior of the cabin.

He walks down the hallway and the stairs to the front door, feeling his way around in the pitch black, where their bags were left earlier in favor of much, much more pressing matters. Goku feels his face warm in remembrance, a dopey look melting over his face as he stands in the foyer.

Images of their intimate encounter flit through the full blooded saiyan’s mind like a major motion picture. His son laid out before him and on top of him overwhelmed and overloaded with pleasure because of him.

A flush of arousal warms down his abdomen to his cock and he reminds himself why he’s downstairs rather than in bed with the man he’s fantasizing about.

Goku slaps his cheeks with both hands to refocus and quickly rummages through his bag for the capsuled food they’d brought with them. He walks, presumably, in the direction of the kitchen, passing by what he can vaguely tell is a sitting room and then a formal dining area. He manages to get to the kitchen with minimal toe stubbing and flicks on a nearby light switch that bathes the room in a yellow tinted light.

On the island countertop, he releases one of the capsules and a spread of various foods falls before him. Going for a light midnight snack, he settles on eating some of the dinosaur meat he had grilled before they left with a side of potatoes. He turns the oven to a probably reasonable setting and throws everything in with their foil wrappings. Goku’s not much of a cook if it’s not over a fire but he feels like there’s a good chance the house won’t burn down.

He puts the rest of the food in the fridge and leaves the other capsules on the counter. There should be enough food to last them the week with Chichi’s earnest preparing not wanting her boys to go hungry and the saiyan’s own time spent hunting and fishing.

Goku leans against the counter, waiting for the food to warm. It had been nice just spending time with his son, well, sons since they had invited Goten along as well who was, for once, not busy hanging out with Trunks.

It made Goku realize how rarely all three of them, or even just him and Goten, casually hang around each other. He’s slightly ashamed to admit that it’s pretty obvious who his favorite child is. Whatever time isn’t spent training or working the farm is often with his oldest son.

Even so, that time isn’t as much as they might want. That seems to be an ongoing theme between the two of them. Always wanting more time together than they have.

Gohan hasn’t voiced any objections to their current arrangement but, then again, Gohan’s probably just happy to not be rebuked completely for his affections.

As a kid, Gohan had never demanded more attention from him. Instead, when they did spend time together, he would wholeheartedly throw himself into whatever activity they were doing, that usually being training. He was determined, eager to hold his attention and make his father proud, never mind the fact Goku could never truly be disappointed in him.

He thinks of this and the way Gohan grumbled earlier before settling back to sleep. Some things don’t change, Goku thinks in fond exasperation.

The only difference now, besides the obvious, is that Gohan is less concerned about making him proud and more worried he’s going to change his mind about being more than just father and son.

But that’s silly, Goku muses as he begins to rummage around the kitchen for something to take the food out of the oven with.

Goku never fully understood Krillin when he spoke about the deep seated romantic love he held for Eighteen, or Master Roshi when he drunkenly exclaimed about carnal attraction and desire, but with Gohan, he gets it.

Suffice it to say, Goku can’t imagine himself getting cold feet about their relationship any time soon.

His focus shifts to moving everything to the island countertop and he grabs eating utensils from one of the drawers.

He’s just about to dig in when he hears, “Late night snack?” He looks up to see Gohan leaning against the entryway wall in fitted boxers and Goku’s own t-shirt.

His eyes dart to Gohan’s slightly exposed collar bone. They’re about the same height but Goku’s frame is wider than his son’s. He tears his gaze away from the tantalizing sight and attempts to formulate a response. “Yeah, I got hungry. You’re wearing my shirt?”

Gohan smiles knowingly, “Figured I’d play around in Daddy’s clothes. What’re you eating?” He walks across the kitchen to his father where he stands on the opposite side of the island.

Goku pointedly ignores the first part as well as the warmth that runs to his cheeks, and uhh other places, and motions to the food on the counter when Gohan makes it over to him.

Appraising the spread, Gohan leans into his father’s space. This close, Goku can better see Gohan’s sleep tousled hair and his eyes still bleary from waking up and his shirt slipping across his shoulder.

Goku suddenly turns fully towards his son and places his hands on his lover’s hips to bring him opposite Goku.

A startled noise escapes Gohan. “What’re you -” his words are cut off by warm lips on his own. Gohan responds on reflex but begins to reciprocate in earnest after a moment. His hands gravitate to Goku’s strong shoulders as lips press onto his over and over again.

Goku’s hands work under the hem of his shirt to smooth over the skin of Gohan’s hips. He pulls him even closer, molding them impossibly, wonderfully close together.

Goku considers doing this forever; kissing Gohan is as satisfying as breathing and it feels as necessary at times, too. He almost thinks he could do it but the tempting way his cock finds friction on Gohan’s pelvis reminds him why that’s not possible. He wouldn’t be able to resist escalating.

Between the insistent meeting of their lips, Gohan manages to get out, “I thought you were gonna eat.”

“Rather do this,” he responds and mouths at Gohan’s jaw line. “You’re wearing my shirt.”

Gohan chuckles and rocks into Goku’s swelling cock. “Well, you won’t hear me complaining.”

As soon as the sentence leaves his mouth, a disapproving growl sounds from Goku’s stomach, interrupting the older man’s intention of reconnecting their lips.

“Seems like there’s another opinion to consider, though,” Gohan laughs, grin widening at the embarrassed flush on Goku’s face. He leans up and tenderly molds his lips to his father’s once more before pulling away. “Hey, we have all week for this. No rush, right?”

Goku’s already forgotten about his fluster in favor of taking in his lover’s shining eyes full of mirth and earnesty. “Yeah, that’s right.”

Gohan then disengages from their embrace and playfully wheedles at Goku to let him have some of his food to which his father easily agrees. A father provides for their son after all.

With another set of cutlery obtained, he settles on the other side of the island across from Goku.

Goku speaks in between bites, “I didn’t wake you up, did I?”

“No, I just noticed you weren’t there. Should’ve figured you’d be eating somewhere naked,” Gohan replies teasingly.

Goku looks up innocently from the piece of meat he’s cutting and sort of shrugs, “I was hungry.”

Gohan chuckles around the food in his mouth, using the back of his hand to cover the lower half of his face. A couple moments pass peacefully and then, “So, you like the shirt.” You would think Gohan was the cat who got the canary with the pleased grin he was wearing.

Goku corrects, gesturing with his fork like it’s an important distinction, “Hm, I like you in the shirt.” His eyes flick to that drooping collar before meeting his son’s eyes again.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, I like you in a lot of things,” he says brightly, “I like you in a lot of nothing, too.” He grins, cheeks bulging with the bite he just took.

They continue back and forth like this for a while, banter and laughter filling the quiet air of the cabin.

Gohan opens his mouth to say something else but he freezes up for a second as he seems to quickly rethink his words. He attempts to steamroll through the awkward moment. “Should we clean up now?” he says, cringing at the slightly higher pitch of his voice that comes out.

Goku watches his lover take dishes over to the sink with a bemused expression. When Gohan rounds his way back to the island, he inquires, “What were you going to say?”

Gohan doesn’t bother playing dumb, “Ah, nothing important.” He tries to dismiss the topic entirely and continue cleaning.

Normally, Goku would just drop it but something about the way Gohan holds tension in his shoulders and the forced casualness in his voice makes him want to press the issue. And curiosity aside, Gohan shouldn’t be afraid to tell him anything.

“Why don’t you want to tell me?” He gently takes the trash from their meal out of Gohan’s hands and walks it over to the bin.

With nothing to do, Gohan leans his hip against the counter. “It’s… just not something I should bring up. I don’t want to kill the mood by talking about unnecessary things.”

Goku comes back and stands at the corner perpendicular from Gohan. “If you really don’t want to talk about it then okay, but don’t do it because you’re worried about how I might react,” he turns over Gohan’s hand that rests on the surface of the island and brushes his thumb over the inside of his wrist, smiling at the way his pulse jumps at the tender touch.

Like this, barely a foot apart from each other and sharing the same air, with Goku looking like Gohan could tell him he destroyed a planet and he would just keep holding his hand with that stupidly soft expression on his face, well, it’s no wonder he caves to his partner.

Sighing, Gohan tries to maintain eye contact but they drop to where their hands are connected instead. “Fine, I was just going to ask if- if it had ever been like this…. between you and mom.”

“Been like what?” Goku’s head tilts in confusion and Gohan huffs a nervous laugh before clarifying.

“Y’know, natural, easy, fun. If you two had ever really been-”

“In love?” Goku finishes, amused by his son’s discomfort with this topic. Goku isn’t sure what the big deal is but, he supposes, they usually try to avoid talking about Chichi. Really, it’s Gohan who’s quick to change the subject whenever she comes up, not that Goku can blame him.

Gohan’s stilted silence is answer enough and through chuckles Goku reassures, “Relax, sweetheart,” he tangles their fingers together, “You’ve been around almost as long as Chichi and I have been together, Gohan. How you’ve seen us is pretty much how we’ve always been.”

Seeing Goku’s relaxed disposition allows Gohan to release some of the tension he was holding. He flexes the fingers intertwined with his father’s and asks curiously, “Did you ever want more, in your marriage or outside of it?”

There’s nothing but genuine inquisitiveness in Gohan’s tone, like he just wants to take this opportunity to learn more about Goku. “Ah, to be honest, I didn’t know what more there could be. Chichi is one of my closest friends and she’s the mother of my children. She gave me a family and she lets me train. I never bothered to wonder about more. But then,” it’s Goku’s turn to avert his eyes as a ruddiness fills his cheeks.

Gohan seems to realize where Goku’s going with this and his disposition turns pleased and teasing. “But thennn,” he prompts and rounds the corner of the island so they’re directly facing each other with Gohan’s hand now resting on his lover’s forearm, thumbing at the vein that sits just under the skin.

“But then, we started. Apparently, there’s a bit more to the whole relationship thing than I thought,” he says, almost wry, but continues seriously, reaching an arm around Gohan’s hip, unable to resist the temptation of furthering contact between them, “It’s so good, Gohan. I love it, being with you, I love you.” His cadence is soft and beseeching, as if imploring Gohan to internalize the meaning of his words as well as hear it.

Gohan opens his mouth to respond but shakes his head and instead leans up to convey reciprocation through the meeting of their lips. He can taste the richness from the meat they ate as well as his lover’s inherent flavor. Neither of them have the intention of escalating; simply feeling each other is enough.

When they part it’s as slow as possible. Their eyes glitter with emotion as they gaze at each other, twin smiles occupying their mouths, and Gohan quietly speaks, “I love you, too.” And right now, in the isolated hush of the cabin, away from looming questions brought on by the future and the presence of their friends and family, that’s all that holds significance.

For several moments, they exist in an embrace, heads tucked into each other. The kitchen is the only illuminated space in a several mile radius and as they stand in the center of that light, it’s as if they’re the very source of such warmth.

Goku feels his lover lean into him more and more, and feeling drowsy himself, he guides them out of the kitchen, flicking off the light which douses their pocket of space in darkness once again, but does nothing to dampen the glow between them.

They make it back to the bedroom and sleep soundly through the remainder of the night and well into the morning.

#gxgh #Goku x Gohan #hanku #soncest #kuhan #Just You and Me #paragon writes

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