this will be my last art thing for a while maybe

Updates Maybe...?

When was the last time I made a post of just me rambling? Months ago? But besides that, first thing off, I wanna welcome to the new followers and say thanks for following me, faving and reblogging my works. I really appreciate it and I do hope you enjoy my other works in the future.

For updates… it’s just activity wise since my activity online is very spotty. I’m still doing studies while trying to complete two animations since I reALLY need to focus on them. So if there’s barely any art posted to answering ask, here’s the reason and I apologies for that.

That’s all for now. Thank you for looking and have a nice day.

“hello,” the dark lord said, “i need a library card.”

“everyone needs a library card,” the librarian said brightly, sliding a form across the desk. “fill this out.”

the dark lord produced her own elaborately plumed quill from the depths of her robes and scrawled her name in handwriting that was completely illegible but seemed to whisper the secrets of the dark from the blinding white page. “yes, but i need mine in order to take over the tri-kingdom area.”

the librarian’s polite smile barely faltered. “funny, the last dark lord to try that didn’t bother with a card.”

“yes, and do you see that fool currently ruling our kingdom? no. of course not. utterly ridiculous, to attempt to take over any size country without a library card, much less an intermediate-sized one like this.” she accepted the thin plastic card with a gracious flourish of her gloved hand.

the librarian, adding the new card’s number to the database, privately agreed, but chose not to say anything.


the librarian balanced the pile of pulled books under one elbow and held the list of call numbers in their hand for easy consultation. “intermediate spell casting for grades three and four,” they murmured, running fingers along the peeling spines until they found it. “willing to bet that’s sorrel’s request.”

they fit the large, paperbound book under their elbow and moved on, checking the list again. “magical creatures encyclopedia, L through M. that’s jackaby trying to finish the entire set by midsummer.” they would get that one last to carry it around the shortest amount of time.

“next — the complete guide to raising the dead.” they paused in front of the row of shelves with the right call numbers. they could guess the requester of that one too, but knew better than to say it out loud.


the return slot thunked loudly as it swung open and closed, having swallowed the returned books with a wet gulp.

“good morning,” the dark lord said pleasantly as she looked up from sliding her books in — or as pleasantly as “good morning” could sound when it was uttered by a voice that sounded like gravel being chewed to pieces by the jaws of a large monster.

“it is, very,” the librarian said crisply, conjuring a clean handkerchief for the still-slobbering return slot.

the mouth just visible under the dark lord’s enormous cloak hood curved into a scythe’s blade smile, but she said nothing else.

“did you enjoy your books?” the librarian asked, since she wasn’t moving and there were no other people waiting (most likely because of the dark lord standing there).

the hood nodded up and down. “extremely. especially the taped lecture by doctor dramidius ardorius of the dark arts institute.”

“well, we have many more taped lectures. i especially recommend the one on the healing powers of tea.” they tilted their head in a now get out sign. the poor steam-powered self-checkout contraption would get overheated if people were too scared to check out at the front desk.

they didn’t really expect the dark lord to take the recommendation seriously, but the next day they noticed the cloaked, hooded specter glide out the door with the taped lecture on magic-infused herbal teas tucked between a CD of dark chants and a step-by-step art book on drawing occult symbols.


“you give good recommendations,” the dark lord said with a shrug when the librarian raised their eyes from the front desk’s computer to the shadows of her hood.

the librarian wasn’t sure what to say. “you seem to take up quite a lot of my time.”

“i’m only a simple library patron,” the dark lord replied in a saintly voice that resembled a dragon coughing up a partially digested house. “do you enjoy mermaid song?”

“yes. you can find the library’s collection in the CD section over there.” they looked pointedly back down at the computer.

“i hear there’s a concert on the shore tomorrow evening.”

“perhaps we’ll get a recording of it.”


the dark lord continued taking out books on various unsavory topics. the librarian continued suggesting books on healing, positive thinking, and community service. the dark lord seemed more amused with each visit. her smile was almost charming, once you got past the long, sharp teeth.


the librarian was trying to go about their usual morning ritual of pulling books that had been requested the night before, but the dark lord wouldn’t stop making faces at them from behind gaps in the shelves. she seemed to find it hilarious. the librarian hadn’t decided yet if they were amused or annoyed.

“ooh, look at this,” the dark lord said, pulling a sturdy but beaten up board book featuring a werewolf mid-transformation on the cover from the shelf. “this was my favorite when i was just a little menace.”

“somehow i’m not surprised.”

the dark lord tucked the book into the ridiculous basket made of a large skull that floated alongside her. “didn’t you have a favorite picture book when you were little?”

“Barker the Sentient Book End,” the librarian said promptly. “i screamed for it every night until someone read it to me, long after i’d already memorized each page.”

the dark lord cooed, sounding like a cross between an owl and something eating an owl. “adorable. i knew you had a little monster in you somewhere.”

the librarian crossly debated denying being a monster at all or pointing out they had actual kraken blood in them.


they should have guessed how close the dark lord was from how good her mood was, but it wasn’t until they arrived at work on monday that the librarian heard the news.

“the newest dark lord managed to overthrow the faeyrie monarchy last night. something about combining traditional herbal spells with a newfangled mental magic based on the power of willful thinking… or something. the news reporter mentioned the use of mermaid song in a mild kind of mind control, i think? i wasn’t listening. the good news is, our budget stays in place.”

the librarian contemplated hurling the can of bookmarks across the room, but concluded that it would be both unprofessional and unsatisfying. they settled for aggressively stamping returned, only slightly saliva-covered books with red ink.


the phone clicked loudly. “public library, how can i help you?”

“by taking my offer,” the dark lord said, slightly hesitant voice like a rock slide that wasn’t sure it was ready to slide. “the royal library in the capital needs a new head librarian.”

“why’s that?” the librarian spun in their new swivel chair, tangling the phone cord while they were at it, thinking they wouldn’t want to leave so soon after getting it.

there was a cough like the ocean spitting out a new island. “erm, hmm, last one got… eaten. tragic. these things happen when you’re very, very small, you know.”

“so i’ve heard.” the librarian stretched the phone cord and watched it bounce back. “well, i’m happy where i am.”

“well.” her voice was more disappointed than they’d expected. “it’s a very nice library, you know. large selection of mermaid song in the CD section.”

“the royal library is part of our system. i can request any materials from there that i want to be delivered here.”

a pause. the dark lord had not considered this. “well, maybe i’ll take the royal library out of the system.”

“you wouldn’t dare disrupt the workings of our very intricate library system set up at the dawn of time.”

“maybe i would!”

“no.”

“fine. i wouldn’t.”

the librarian swiveled some more, wrapping the cord around with them until it ran out of give and spun them in the other direction. “would you like to grab a coffee sometime?”

“yes,” the dark lord said, voice too surprised to resemble anything in particular. “i can travel down meet you tomorrow morning.”

“don’t you have things to do?”

they could sense the shrug from the other end of the line. “i’ll move the capital to your town. i can do that, you know. i’m the supreme ruler of the tri-kingdom area.”

“yes,” the librarian agreed, un-spinning to return the phone to its cradle. “just don’t forget who gave you the library card.”

Story 215: Cultural Exchange

The human steps onto the station from her shuttle, and walks into the scanner.  It flashes - no weapons.  I pity her, though there’s nothing I can do for her.  By tomorrow she will be a slave the same as me; the Gaunvans collect ambassadors like trophies.
“Hello there!  Amanda Thorn, ambassador for the Empire of Humanity.  You’re a Ixian, correct?”
Mimicking human body language, I nod my head.  "That’s correct.  Ix Malasan.  It is an honor to meet you.“
She smiles, reminding me again that she has somehow modified herself to breathe atmosphere suited to the Gaunvans rather than wear a respirator like myself.  Other than that she appears to be a standard human, something I am led to believe is less and less common as they pursue the bizarre compulsion humans have to alter their bodies.  Changing hair color, adding pigments to their skins in patterns and pictures, growing long tails or ears that mimic other species from their planet.  No other known species tampers with their bodies like this.
“Not to be undiplomatic, she says, "but the Gaunvans enslaved your people.  Why are you here?”
“We… reached a mutually beneficial agreement.  We would have lost in combat and been eliminated, so we chose to preserve what we could of our culture.  The Gaunvans are not naturally skilled at diplomacy, so they bring me along to assist and to show that peace can be made.”
She nods.  "Understood.  I can respect that choice.  How much freedom do you have, personally?“
Smart of her, to start planning for her future. "A fair amount.  I have free reign on the ship when we are in transit.  At the homeworld I have reasonably comfortable quarters.”
“Have you ever met the Empress, or…?”
“Oh, no.  No, while on the homeworld I am confined to my chambers - but they’re quite spacious.”
“Shame.  Okay, plan ‘A’ then.  Let’s get this over with.”

Despite my attempt at encouraging diplomacy, the Gaunvan commander starts with threats.  I don’t know why I bother.  He looms over the human, chitinous plates almost black in the dim light.  His pod of six is posted around the room, for show more than for actual security since she followed orders and came alone and unarmed.  "Failure to surrender will bring the full wrath of our army upon you.  Humanity will be crushed, and wiped from the universe.“
To her credit, she looks very calm.  "We live in a post-scarcity society.  Bloody conquest just seems silly, doesn’t it?”
“It is for the glory of Gaun!”
“Well, I’m not prepared to get into a religious debate with you,” she says, “since I doubt there’s anything I can do to change your mind.  Since you’re committed to this course of action, what are you willing to offer if we surrender?”
Now he goes back on script.  Maybe I am getting through to him a little?  He talks about the benefits of being enslaved, mainly the protections for up to twelve designated culturally historical sites.  They’ve been mostly good on their word on my homeworld, though they did use the area just outside of the Hahhn Memorial as a waste dump.

She nods as she listens.  There was a part of me that was worried she would argue, because the humans are somewhat childlike.  They don’t understand the horrors of war.  Certainly they fought in the past, but the last time they had to battle was more than two of their generations ago, so these ones have all grown up coddled and soft.  They play games with each other instead, silly competitions.  They make art, and play pretend, and alter their bodies for fun.  They don’t have weapons anymore, and wouldn’t know how to use them if they did.
“Well then,” ambassador Thorn says, “this is about what I expected.  On behalf of humanity, I would like to formally reject this offer.”
Oh no.  Foolish humans.  The galaxy will miss your innocence.  The commander makes an excited clicking noise, looking forward to combat.  He reaches a blade-tipped hand towards ambassador Thorn, but hesitates as every device in the room bleats out an alert - we’ve all lost communications with the outside.

Like one of the dances humans do, she gracefully pivots around while taking his hand.  She ends up close to him and places her other arm against his thorax, then… oh gods. Gods, what… she’s ripped his arm off.  It’s not possible.  The commander is clearly thinking the same thing, staring in mute shock at his dripping limb.
“I’d like to extend a counter-offer,” she says, and flips the arm around before jamming the bladed end into his neck.  The warriors around the room are fidgeting, uncertain.  They haven’t been told to attack, and don’t want to dishonor their commander by intervening in a fight with such a small creature.  She’s still holding the commander’s severed arm in his neck, but she rotates and heaves, lifting him off the ground with it for a moment… and then his head pops off, landing squarely on the conference table.  She allows the corpse to slide to the ground, and straightens her clothes as if they aren’t covered in ichor.

I don’t understand.

The warriors, now with no orders at all, finally act.  She smiles as they come for her, I suppose because she has done her duty to send this powerful message of resistance.  She can die in peace.  Or… no… She’s killing them.  She’s smiling because this is fun for her.  Though they’re partly killing themselves; if there had been two of them, prepared, strategic, they might have prevailed.  Watching six panicked fighters get in each other’s way while trying to stop a smaller, faster, and somehow impossibly stronger foe is almost hypnotic.  At least one is killed by the stab of a friendly lance due to pure confusion.  It’s over faster than I would have thought possible, severed limbs strewn across the room.  I’ve got some fluids splashed across my clothing.  Only one yet lives, and he is retreating.  She seems to be allowing it.

She follows behind, holding a lance.  The wounded and scared warrior scurries down the hallway towards his ship, looking back behind him as he goes.  She’s just… walking.  Calm.  And for some reason I’m following.  The last Gaunvan reaches the airlock and the second he enters his code she throws the lance - throws it! - and spears him.
“Come on, we’re stealing their ship.”  She says it like this is the most normal thing in the world.
“There are thousands more on board!  Thousands!  Almost all warrior caste!”
She smiles again, and keeps walking.  I see errors on the screens that we pass, messages indicating communications have been lost.  They can’t tell anyone what is happening here.  Even the communicators within the ship are on nodes rather than being wired, so the warriors at one end of the vessel won’t be able to coordinate with the other end.  Do they even know they’ve been boarded?
“How?”

We enter the bridge after she kills a handful of other guards with ease.  They’re too shocked by her presence to act in time.  Once the door are sealed and she is working on the control systems she starts talking to me again.
“Well, you know, we do like to be prepared.”
“But you… you ripped his arm off.”
“Yeah, that was super satisfying.”  She looks at me appraisingly.  "Oh, come on.  Is it really that surprising?  You knew we were into changing ourselves, right?  Being strong enough to pop an overgrown bug’s forelimb off isn’t rocket science.“
"Your people are so peaceful…”
“Oh, sure, most of them.  But we did that, too.  Tweaked ourselves over the years to decrease aggression and some of our tribalistic tendencies, increase empathy… all stuff that can be undone if needed.  Though for a good cause even the nicest of us can squish a bug or two.”
“You bond with Ry'ling devourers!”
“Those are the big fuzzy guys that look like cats, yeah?  Those guys are adorable!  But… look, liking some things that could kill us doesn’t mean we’ll sit back and get enslaved.  We didn’t put up with it well when we enslaved each other, and we certainly aren’t going to go for it now that we’re… finally… on the same page about slavery being unacceptable.  It was, uh, a longer time than we like to admit before the last hold-outs were convinced of that one.”

I can feel the ship un-dock.  We’re moving.  "What about all the warriors on board?  They’ll break through the doors eventually!“
"Not according to this control panel here.  Take a look.”
It says there’s no atmosphere in the rest of the ship.  Life signs are negative on all but two of the warriors, presumably the only ones that got to their suits in time.  She disabled all the safety measures, somehow.  She just killed… I check the life signs readout again to confirm the number… three thousand, six hundred, and fourteen soldiers.  Wait, how is it tracking that unless… “Are communications back up?”
“Yeah, I’m calling some friends.  The military is right around the corner, so to speak.”
“But Earth doesn’t have a standing military.”
She laughs.  Not just a little bit.  She’s actually doubled over for a moment, unable to catch her breath.  "Sweet Jeebus, you guys actually fell for that?  No standing military.  Have you read about us at all?“

Three ships appear seemingly out of nowhere, and one docks with the Gaunvan vessel.  Once the atmosphere is restored we head to the airlock to meet them, and I’m surprised by an entire platoon of Gaunvan warriors.  Speaking English.
"Okay boys, send your last goodbyes!  This is in all likelihood a one way mission.  Commander Thorn!  It is an honor to see you again, and might I say you look exquisite drenched in the blood of your enemies!”
She bows to him, blushing, and then salutes the Gaunvans.  Or… humans?  Can they change themselves this drastically?
“You’ve got two holed up in here somewhere.  Bridge is clear, have the techs bring the new brain on board.”
“New brain?”
She looks at me like she’s forgotten that I’m here, and then turns back to the others.  "Men, this is our new friend Ix Malasan who has just been liberated from his captivity.  He’s going to be helping with our intel.  Malasan, yeah, a new brain for the ship.  Once this vessel is cleaned up and back in service with a new crew we’ll be able to take it over whenever we want even if all of our boys get killed.  We cooked up a really sadistic AI for it.“
"But how do you know the protocols?  This was your first contact with the Gaunvans, they’ve never lost a ship anywhere near here!”
“No?  There wasn’t a mining colony disaster two years ago?”
“But that was just an accident… and you weren’t even involved in the war yet… and…”

The faux-Gaunvans have finished boarding.  The one that was talking to them before puts a bladed claw on ambassador - commander - Thorn’s shoulder.  "You coming with?“
"Naw.  Orders said I could only come if they allow ambassadors near extremely high value targets.  Malasan here says they don’t, so I need to wait for my next mission back on Earth.”
“It would have been nice having you with us, Thorn.  Well, maybe we’ll see each other again.  Suicide mission or not, I think I’ve decided to live through it.”
“Bold choice,” she says, and kisses him next to his lower mandibles.
He nods at me, then turns back to his men. “Okay everyone, we are now officially on the job.  And what is that job?”
In unison, they start chanting.

“FUCK! SHIT! UP!  FUCK! SHIT! UP!  FUCK! SHIT! UP!”

For a moment I nearly feel pity for the Gaunvans.  Nearly.  Commander Thorn leads me off of the ship, and I start thinking about what useful information I can provide the ‘harmless’ humans.  Fuck shit up, indeed.

“make the princess speak and you will have the crown of kings.”

my knees hurt, as usual, from scrubbing. technically i’m too high of Maid Station to help out with these things, but i like seeing what happens when you clean. the development of things. how a lot of effort can make something. i like learning and trying and working hard to get towards something.

and i’ve seen them, from the back of pillars, from behind cracked doors, from beside her (on the best days) the way they talk to her. oh beautiful won’t you just look at me. oh darling. if you speak i’ll be your prince. if you speak i’ll be your king. 

the princess, i know, finds the lines of suitors boring. it’s in the way her hands are always moving. she hides yawns, leaves early, we make her apologies. once, a man comes and tries to startle her into screaming. she rolls her eyes and looks directly at me. i have to hide my smile behind my sleeve. he is taken away while still screaming.

by accident, i find her once, crying. when we imagine princesses, they always cry daintily. hers is hoarse, angry, and something in it breaks me. in my station i should apologize and bow and leave. instead i am frozen, watching her shoulders heaving.

she looks up and spots me, her cheeks ruddy. i know i should go but instead i make a big show. i act as one of her princes. i make grand gestures and speak in deep voices. i frantically offer her handkerchiefs and trip over my own two feet. a smile crawls up over her, slowly. i dab my sweat away and offer her the used rag. i feign a fluster, turn a terrible cartwheel, make shadow puppets. the sound of her laugh, raw and rusty, sends shivers through me.

for a while, i do not see her after this. but then i am called to her chambers. she is crying again. i offer silly gifts, pebbles and dusting rags and a candlestick from her own kitchen, pretend to steal it, use it as a hat, rock it as a babe. she laughs more easily this time, gladly, and when she laughs i am taken by more important maids, thereby officially Excused.

it goes like this for months. the winter comes. i rarely see her. i spend my week thinking about ways to please her. i knick interesting cookies, show her shiny buttons, learn to cartwheel in a full skirt, and then promptly how to make it look foolish again. i learn how to juggle hot bread and dance as a man would, i learn how to balance on a ball and how to fall down without hurting myself, how to fake a fight with my own body, which colors she likes and which don’t please her.

i show up on a cold eve with a knotted line of scarves hidden down my sleeve, worried and breathless, wondering why she’s been crying. the door opens and she is sitting there, happy. at first i’m confused, but she waves me in. next to her is her small dessert, in two containers. i’m not sure how to respond, so i fake a fall to hear her laugh, and then sit at her feet. she gives me ice cream - so rare a treat. i know what went into making it - the hours of shaking. it’s smooth and tasty. i don’t feign my reaction, but she laughs anyway, kindly. 

it goes like this. i see her more frequently. she likes giving me new things, watching me discover i hate kiwi and love oranges and would die if it made her laugh breathlessly. i’ve made her keel over with cackling and she’s put a fire in me. sometimes we just sit there, quietly, enjoying each other’s company. 

it’s in her hands, always moving. little things i thought were just her, fidgeting. here’s how she says she’s thirsty, this is what her hands do when she needs a second to think, here’s how she shows she’s happy. this is how i learn to speak back to her. around her i spend much of my time smiling. i feel every visit is a gift. a new part to unravel. i find out she doesn’t respond to spoken things, that she needs to be looking in order to know you were speaking. sometimes she has me talk and she holds her hands to the base of my throat, her eyes wide and wondering. sometimes she just looks at me and i forget that i’m her jester in chief. i get caught up in her eyes, in how expressive they are when she’s happy, in how when she’s sad i feel like i’m drowning.

i never see the king or queen, but i know when she’s had a visit with them, because she never comes back happy. two winters i have known her, two winters and now we dine frequently. i am often called to stand beside her, to whisper translations of her desires into the ears of someone more important than i, someone who gets to be the voice of royalty. i can’t decide if i’m her friend or her plaything, but i don’t know i care much of the distinction. every moment i’m near her is a moment free of friction. i take stock of suitors and curtsy to them in daylight only to mock them in the candle’s eye later.

she asks me one night to stay. it has been a bad day. it’s completely not okay. i cannot say no but i cannot, by my station, stay. but she begs with her eyes and her hands and i know i’ll take the punishment. 

we lie beside each other. i make sure to turn to her when i speak. in the dark she can’t see me, so i move my hands in the way i’m learning. she asks if i am ever lonely. i cannot tell her that i am always lonely without her beside me, so instead i say i think all people are very lonely and just are pretending. she laughs a little at that and says she thinks her parents are the two most lonely people that ever met. her mother was like her; broke a fairy curse and talked, just once, although nobody knows what she said. well, excepting her father, who was the only one around, and who won her hand in marriage.

from her mother she learned the art of hands, of speaking without words - from her father she learned that who she was included a curse. that she just wanted someone who would make her open like a rose - someone who could fix her. how she stared out into the royal garden and wished on flowers to be what her kingdom needs.

she fell asleep pressed against me. i couldn’t breathe. i was still awake in the morning. 

the punishment never came. we spent nights like this. the handmaidens had grown to know me. whenever their princess was stubborn, i worked magic and made her lovely.

it was a terrible thing. i did too good a job, i think. the princess glowed too much or shone too brightly - or at least, i saw it that way, so who knows what the truth is. every day it felt like we were being rushed with princes. 

her father’s temper at hosting failed. it was the day before her twenty-first birthday and first time i’d ever seen him. he stormed in at the end of the session. “just speak!” he said, “it’s not that hard! do for others what your mother did!” 

“tomorrow is your last day of this,” he warned her, “either you pick a prince or i pick for you. i’m done with it.”

he stormed off. she was left shellshocked and trembling. that night she didn’t ask me to come, but i waited outside, just in case she changed her mind. i understood why she needed space. either she’d speak and be married tomorrow or she’d be married shortly. i heard her crying and it took everything in my power not to rush in and hold her, cradle her gently. but i cannot come into a room of a royal person without being invited. i stayed there, tears in my own eyes, thinking of treason.

the next day was a huge festival. what had been a birthday celebration was turned into a day about princes. i watched her shake her head. i tried to cheer her up. i tried everything. i frequently came inches from causing public humiliation, toed the line of mocking and failing to acknowledge my station. she wouldn’t smile. not once. not even for anything.

the day was long. the bonfire wore down. i watched her crumple into herself. i was out of ideas. i knelt at her feet. her eyes barely looked at me. just wait, i said to her with my hands, i’ll be right back. i took off running.

the price of stealing is losing my hands. these things that i spoke to her with. these things that mattered so much to me, that helped with my comedy and cleaning. 

i didn’t think of them. i bloodied my fingers when i ripped the royal roses from their stems. and then i ran, as fast as i could, back to her feet. i picked them to show you, i said, as she gasped, looking at my treason, they’re beautiful and nobody told them to open to reveal their secrets to the bees. they are unbroken. as you are. as you always will be. 

she fell off her throne and for a second i was beyond speaking, worried something had happened, or she’d fainted, or i’d said the wrong thing. but then she was on her knees, her arms around me, and i heard it. i heard the soft croak of her speaking. just one word, and it sent shivers down me. my name, in her voice, awkward and unwieldy, but full of love and passion, burning fire through me.

i felt a hand on my shoulder. i was pulled away from her. they already had me in handcuffs while i struggled to get back to her, to tell her i loved her, to beg her to run off with me or maybe just hold me around her, maybe just have her for a moment, because i couldn’t live without her for a moment longer.

they put me in the cells. i rotted in there, for a while or for no time at all, i’m not sure. the thorns scarred my palms. i watched the scabs build up and flake off. every time someone came down, i flinched, wondering if i would be the next to be taken and chopped into bits.

but one day the light was different. not the smoky torch of the jailer, instead a bright light in a lantern. at first when i saw her, my breath caught in my throat, mistaking her for my princess.

but she was my queen. at first we stood in silence. and slowly, i moved my hands to speak. is she married? is what came out, even though i should be more worried about me myself and me.

she is not. she bit her father on the arm when he tried to make her. then she fought him. and then ran away. it took us a bit to find her, i’m afraid. she threatened her own life and the life of everyone in this place. the queen was smiling. i was told there was a young woman who could make the princess speak, whom she would die to save, who brought roses to her feet. someone in a cell, rotting. are you her?

the memory of her voice rang through me. i’m she.

yes, her hands said, for even now, aren’t you speaking to the silent Queen?

she opened the door. come, she said, let’s get you cleaned up for the ceremony.

the crown of kings. when she wraps her arms around my neck and laughs next to me, i am royalty. when she smiles or makes a joke or asks to see my cartwheel again, i’m lost in her. i kiss her whenever i can, which is often. we have roses in a vase at the base of our bed, and for all of the kingdom, i’d give my hands if it would keep her laughing.

the next time she spoke was just once, at our wedding, where she said the two words i do to bind us for eternity. she had learned from me, from holding her hands over my voicebox, the way i learned from her how to use hands to speak. sometimes at night she says my name, just because she likes what it does to me.

i’m more blessed than a king. every day i spend with her is a day i spend happily. 

We talk a lot about Yuuri having to reconcile his idea of Viktor with the real Viktor–that is, Yuuri has this flawless, wonderful ideal of Viktor in his head which has to sort of be cut down to fit the person that Viktor really is. Which is a healthy part of their relationship, and which I completely agree is something Yuuri has to face at some point during that first summer.

But I think there’s also something to be said about Yuuri realizing that some of the horrible things he’s heard about Viktor through the skating community grapevine are not so true.

Yuuri, despite what he says, is much closer to is idol than most people ever get. If Viktor is a movie star, Yuuri is the secondary character–he’s there, and a lot of people definitely know he’s there, and he knows enough people who also know Viktor for the gossip mill to really get churnin sometimes.

I also think that at the back of every person who has ever had a celebrity crush’s mind is a little voice saying, “Never meet your heroes,” and Yuuri Katsuki is terrified of that little voice, and it contributes to the distance he keeps from Viktor–because at some point, that much distance from someone you’re facing off against in international competitions has got to be just a little bit purposeful.

So cue Viktor coming into his life all of a sudden one day, and all Yuuri can think about are the terrible awful no good very bad things people have told him about Viktor and the kind of person Viktor is.

“Fuck Viktor Nikiforov,” an older skater had told him after Skate America, six glasses into a box of wine and bitter as hell about missing the podium. “No, really, fuck him. The Russians are paying off the ISU to keep him at the top. He isn’t even that talented. I hear–I hear he doesn’t even train. I hear he just shows up and fucking does whatever and they give him gold because he’s Viktor Nikiforov.”

“I…don’t think…” Yuuri frowned at his own glass of wine. “I mean…that couldn’t be true.” He glances at Phichit next to him. “Could it?”

“Sour grapes,” Phichit advises, and Yuuri isn’t as familiar with English idioms at that point, so he thinks Phichit is talking about the wine.

Yuuri mostly forgets about it, but somewhere in the back of his mind–he can’t stop thinking about it. He watches and rewatches Viktor’s old programs and wonders to himself if the reason he thinks they’re so good is because he’s watching them through rose-tinted glasses.

Yuuri and Phichit are suffering through finals and trying to survive through twenty-hour days of nothing but studying and skating. They lay themselves on the bleachers one afternoon while they’re supposed to be doing warm ups.

“What if I just quit school and became and underwater basket weaver,” Yuuri mumbles directly into the metal seat of the bleacher. “That would be fine, right?”

“WWVND,” Phichit replies. “What Would Viktor Nikiforov Do.”

“You’re right,” Yuuri sighs.

“Viktor Nikiforov is dumber than a box of rocks,” says of the other members of the club as she skates by. “You know he never even finished high school? I mean, what counts as high school in a country like Russia. The guy probably thinks two plus two equals borscht.”

“That’s not…” Yuuri smushes his nose against the bleacher. “Hey, that’s not…”

“FUCK OFF OLIVIA,” Phichit shrieks across the rink, and Celestino definitely hears. They have to do twenty minutes of line drills. 

“What Would Viktor Nikiforov Do, right boys?” asks Olivia as she watches Yuuri try not to heave after Celestino finally releases them from their Sisyphean torture.

“I’m gonna fucking kill her,” Phichit says, and he sounds so deeply serious that Yuuri is sincerely worried.

Several weeks later, someone mentions Viktor within earshot of Phichit and he jokingly says, “Watch what you say, that’s Yuuri’s future husband you’re talking about,” and it sort of makes Yuuri want to hit him but mostly makes Yuuri blush.

“Really?” replies that someone. “I don’t know about that, Yuuri. I wouldn’t touch that guy with a thirty foot pole. He sleeps around. Probably has all kinds of nasty stuff going on down there.”

“Oh, whatever,” Phichit says, rolling his eyes. “Like you would know.”

Yuuri ducks his head back into his book and tries not to think about it.

These are the things that Yuuri holds in the back of his mind about Viktor, the worries that travel with him anywhere he has even the chance of encountering Viktor Nikiforov. 

‘Never meet your heroes’ becomes something of the unspoken mantra of Yuuri’s life. 

Then Viktor Nikiforov catapults himself straight into Yuuri’s lap, and Yuuri learns a few things.

Viktor trains. Viktor trains hard. Viktor has neglected everything but training and skating and satisfying his own frantic need to be the best for twenty years. Viktor Nikiforov is a lonely, sad bookworm with one friend and a gaping, yearning need to be touched–and he did not get to be where he is without making sacrifices. 

Yuuri has never met anyone who made more sacrifices for this sport and this art than Viktor Nikiforov. It opens something up inside of him, throbbing and raw. It makes Yuuri want to take Viktor’s heart and shove it inside his own chest so that it never feels cold or lonely again. It makes him want to stand on the top of a tall building somewhere and scream fuck you to every person he’s encountered whose jealousy tried to convince him that this man was less than what he is.

And yes, Yuuri knows now that Viktor is forgetful and brutally honest and often doesn’t say the right thing at the right time.

He knows that Viktor is only ambidextrous in that he can use a fork with both hands and that it takes him twenty minutes in the morning to decide on a shirt to wear. He knows that Viktor Nikiforov is a blanket hog and that if Yuuri wants to wake up still covered in the morning, they have to have no less than three blankets on the bed at all times.

He knows that Viktor sometimes descends into these loops of manic energy where he wants to do everything and can’t sit still and in those moments, Yuuri wants to lock him in a room and leave him there until he starts making sense again.

He also knows that Viktor Nikiforov has the most genuinely beautiful soul that Yuuri has ever had the opportunity to touch. He knows that very few people in his life will ever love him like Viktor, and that he himself has never felt for anyone quite what he feels for this man. His man. 

He knows these things and he thinks that maybe Viktor is perfect after all, perfect in his imperfection. Every jagged edge of his fits into one of Yuuri’s, and every curve of Yuuri’s lovingly presses flush with Viktor’s until they fit together seamlessly, like a pair of puzzle pieces.

Yuuri is also still a very petty person on the inside, though–which is why he makes posts on Instagram that read things like Viktor received his sixth well-deserved Russian National gold today! Congratulations to my amazing fiance.

And also:

So proud of my husband for all of his hard work commentating at the #Olympics. Some people go to school for half their lives and aren’t half as articulate as my Vitya. #Proudhubby

After that last one, Phichit leaves a voicemail on Yuuri’s phone that is literally just two whole minutes of him laughing hysterically and then wheezing, “THE SALT!” before hanging up.

“Yuuri, why did Phichit just sent me…sixteen crying laughing emojis and a text that says ‘your husband I can’t,’ in all caps?”

“Because a lot of people tried telling me you weren’t perfect and I’m proving them wrong,” Yuuri replies, not even looking up from his phone.

“Oh,” Viktor says, and literally crawls on top of him.

Yuuri supposes that the moral of the story is that the heart wants what the heart wants, and you have to find perfection in the imperfections–Viktor is loud and ditzy and forgets the English word for tomato on an almost daily basis, but he’s Yuuri’s husband. And because he’s Yuuri’s husband, he’s perfect.

Pixar COCO ¡Viva México!

Ok, ok, so I recently went to see the movie and let me tell you something… it’s more than just a movie, es una obra de arte.

I’m not joking, really, my expectations went beyond what I thought. It was amazing in every way. Well, maybe I’m gonna make some spoilers, but I found myself in need of telling you my experience as a Mexican point of view.

Because yes, I’m proudly Mexican.

  • 1. Estás muy flaco, ¡come más!

This is funny. 

In each family, at least in mine, it is normal that your grandmother wants to feed you because, according to her, you are very thin. And this reminded me a lot of my grandmother, whom I sweetly called Yaya. And yes, she is a strong, very determined woman who always fills my plate with lots of food. 

But my Yaya’s food is always the best.

Originally posted by musicalhog

  • 2. El maravilloso ambiente

There was no time to take the eyes off every scene, every color, every sound, literally. In the land of the living, the colors were relatively balanced, since it is a village, when dusk comes, which illuminates each house in a beautiful orange color. The colorful cemeteries and ofrendas captivated me greatly, for the passion with which we adorn the tombs of our departed is more than a tradition; is a connection that even Death itself can never take away.

Originally posted by musicalhog

  • 3. ¡Música maestro!

My God, I can’t believe Disney has started its own theme with Mariachi music. 

AY, AY, AY!!

That. was. Phenomenal. 

The rest of the film, when I started to hear the voices of each character singing, dancing or even playing guitar, I almost felt like jumping and singing, clapping and dancing. If anything you must be sure, is that when a Mexican hears that kind of music, mariachi, trumpets, violins, the shoe, the drums, gives him an infinite desire to be celebrating forever.

Originally posted by wrlockbane

  • 4. La Chancla

La abuelita threatening everyone with la chancla. 

That’s typical of mexican family. No, seriously. Once my Yaya threw me la chancla voladora when I was little and I was running and they had yelled at me to stop. That could not be missing!

If you have never been threatened with la chancla, or much less have hit you with it, trust me, as a mexican you had no childhood.

Originally posted by auroras-boreales

  • 5. La Llorona

Originally, the song La Llorona is sung by Chavela Vargas. If you have never heard of it, I strongly recommend that you do so. That was totally amazing! 

“Ay, de mí llorona. Llorona, de azul celeste. Ay, de mí llorona. Llorona, de azul celeste…”

“Y aunque me cueste la vida, llorona, no dejaré de quererte. Y aunque me cueste la vida, llorona, no dejaré de quererte…”

Miguel’s great-great-grandmother sang it with such sentiment made me shed tears, because I’ve heard it since I was a little girl. My grandmother sometimes sings it when she’s cooking.

  • 6. Ay, Ernesto, no te rajes

Yes, yes, YES!!!

I actually knew that Ernesto de la Cruz was inspired by Pedro Infante and Jorge Negrete. OH, MY GOD! I love this man so much!

Originally posted by andyjwest

Maybe you can remember Jorge with the song Ay, Jalisco no te rajes! (From the movie The Tree Caballeros) There are other songs that I recommend you to hear. But my favorite has always been that.

Yo soy Mexicano, Mexico Lindo, Ella, Entre suspiro y suspiro, El Abandonado, and more…

  • 7. Alebrijes

Actually, this was a very original idea that I loved. 

Alebrijes are imaginary beings made up of physiognomic elements of different animals, a combination of several animals, not only fantastic but also real.
They’re handicrafts made with the technique of the cartonería, that they are painted with joyful colors and vibrant.

Alebrijes are one of the many wonders of Mexican art and a pride and the hallmark of Oaxaca. Having a alebrije or a collection of them at home is considered good luck and it is said that happiness will accompany anyone who owns one of these works of art. In addition, owning a alebrije is to possess the best of Mexican art, so vast, so colorful, so full of life and a beauty recognized internationally.

  • 8. La Familia es primero

Even though The Book of Life is also another of my favorite movies, something made me even love more Coco than this. 

Family.

Originally posted by disneymusic

It may sound a little… cliché, but for me the family has always been the most important thing. In fact, I quite identified with Miguel’s family. I could see in my own flesh not only my grandmother, but my uncles, my cousins and my other relatives. We don’t live in one house, we live in different places.

Traditionally my grandfathers are doctors, and they wanted my mother to be a doctor, but she preferred to study theater just as my father studied music. And there could be no doubt that her own daughter would also want to be an artist.

When I first went to Europe to visit the Universities, my grandmother, who repudiated the idea of being an artist, came to me one day and said to me: “It’s your life, you decide what you want and what you choose will be always good for me.”

The love of the family is so different and so unique, that to a certain point it made me realize that I do not need love of a couple if I have people that I can always talk to and who can support me too.

  • 9. Recuérdame

This song was definitely the best of the best. Full of feelings, full of dedication, I should applaud the effort for composers, I haven’t had the privilege of hearing it in English, but I think you should also listen to it in Spanish, and I say it because the song sounds infinitely cool. and with the voice of the characters, made my skin prickly and shed more tears.

“Hasta que en mis brazos tú estés… Recuérdame…”

  • 10. Mama Coco

This, without a doubt, is my favorite. The entire character of mama Coco.

She may not appear more than some scenes from the entire film, but she is a very important and very captivating character. The relationship she has with Miguel is very special, an old mind woman and a big-hearted young man, the love of grandparents or great-grandparents is so strong and has no limits…

I have lived with my great-grandparents since I was two years old, and I loved them with all my heart just like them to me.

They are no longer with me…

But that does not mean that I have forgotten them. I remember them every day, every moment, when I least expect it, I sometimes dream about them. Sometimes I ask my grandparents how they were as young people, and I could imagine their lives in black and white films, where they wore dresses and suits.

The times of my great-grandfathers were hard, but were also beautiful, they enjoyed their entire life and were happy. Mama Coco was able to leave the world knowing that her father loved her and sang for the last time. Recuérdame with her great-grandchild.

What a beautiful scene, so simple, so lovely, that speaks for much.

Originally posted by musicalhog

Believe it or not, I loved Coco more than The Book of Life.

But I don’t think there has to be some anger cause somehow they seem to be something in como. For God’s sake, they do NOT seem at all, at least of the plot. 

Is more than obvious that the producers and the cast made a mega effort to make the film an original work, and yes, it is original, cause there were so many unexpected twists, plus that, again, made me cry.

Don’t hate Coco, really, the movie is worth seeing, and it is such a beautiful and so cute way of putting the family theme. 

The Book of Life talked about fear in being yourself: there is nothing wrong of being yourself and always follow your heart, while Coco talks about that it is okay to follow your dreams, but also think about your family, think about something that goes more beyond your expectations, but what you choose will always have the support of your family.

Two films focusing on Mexico, focusing on El Dia de los Muertos, two films that use direct themes, but that somehow made me realize what Life is like.

So, go ahead, Vive tu momento.

Originally posted by musicalhog

SDCC 2017 Rebecca Sugar interview

Rewind and Pause interviewed Rebecca Sugar in this fifteen-minute interview. Here’s a sorta-transcript–not word for word, but basically what the questions are and how she answered, paraphrased.

Question: A lot of the show’s symbolism is inspired by Utena. Can you discuss that show’s influence?

Rebecca: When I was a teen, that show was an epiphany for me! It plays with the semiotics of gender and I was a bisexual teen relating to it in a way I’d never related to anything before. The show is beautiful and I love that she decides she wants to BE a prince after being saved by a prince. And it’s also funny. It’s so extreme that it’s funny, and that was a huge influence on me as well, that something could be so dramatic and so beautiful but also wacky. It’s so extreme that it’s powerful at the same time as being funny. I got to see the origins and see Guys and Dolls at the Takarazuka Theater when I visited Japan. Osamu Tezuka grew up in that town! You know, Princess Knight, which has everything to do with Utena. I got to see some of the roots there and it was a big influence. Amazing.

Question: Another influence, especially lately, you can draw comparisons between Steven’s miracles and Christ figures. Are you exploring this, and potentially modernizing that allegory, with different kinds of love?

Rebecca: We’re inspired by every voice that has ever spoken about peace. I think–I’ve been reading about Hillel the Elder and how he said “If I’m not for myself, then who will be for me?” The gentleness with which he approached everything is really inspiring to me. I think that I’m very influenced by my Jewish upbringing. I’m half Jewish and was raised Jewish. I’ve felt the feeling of belonging but not belonging. I’ve been moved by this incredible history and this wonderful community that I wanted to understand and be a part of. That’s all been a big influence on the show as well. It was all about growing up with my brother, and that was a big part of my life. There’s a lot of spiritualism in the show.

Question: I wanna ask you about the color symbolism? And I’d be remiss if I didn’t say thank you for showing our community on TV. About Steven: His Gem is pink, his shield is pink, his sword is pink, his shoes are pink! It subverts the tropes of a traditional male hero. Was that intentional?

Rebecca: Oh, it’s COMPLETELY intentional. Yeah, I think one of the things I wanted to do as I went into the show was address how intensely gendered shows for children are and dissolve that. That was my first goal. And I think it came in large part because as a little kid I always gravitated toward boys’ shows, and I felt extremely guilty about that. And I don’t think my child self should have had to feel bad, but I understood “this is not really for me.” So as we went into this, I wanted NO ONE to have to feel that. I wanted everyone who wanted to, to feel it was for them. Especially since it’s gender nonconforming as a show.

Question: Silly question: Peridot and Lapis are roommates. What do you think their biggest pet peeves are of each other? If they have any, I mean.

Rebecca: Gosh. I think Lapis is sort of both annoyed and comforted by Peridot’s infinite energy. I often thought of them like the sort of old cartoon idea of a small dog and a big sort of like doesn’t-really-care dog. With a small very very excited dog. I felt that that was a dynamic for them. So I think that that, like those characters, it’s annoying to Lapis but she doesn’t actually dislike it.

Question: Congrats on the Emmy nomination!

Rebecca: THANK YOU!

Question: I hope we get to see “It’s Over, Isn’t It?” and “Both of You” during the Emmys. How do you feel?

Rebecca: I’m so excited, and I’m so glad it’s that one. It was such a fun dream to make a musical episode. I always loved those, they’re always my favorite. I couldn’t wait to do ours. Everyone was firing on all cylinders for that episode. I got to do music with Jeff Liu and Ben Levin, and Aivi and Surasshu’s compositions for the finals were stunning, the backgrounds are incredible, the art is so beautiful, it’s Jeff Liu and Joe Johnston’s last board together, it was one of the last episodes I got to work on with Ian before he left to do his show, so it also has a special place in my heart, I remember seeing it come back and being in the edit bay watching it and my eyes were welling up because “this is it, this is everything I ever wanted.”

Question: Not to mention Deedee crushing it.

Rebecca: She’s amazing! And that was when she was doing Tommy! So we got her on a day she’d been doing shows all day, and she came and knocked that out.

Question: First take?

Rebecca: We did several, but all of those takes were amazing. I love writing songs for Deedee. And that one, it has some notes in it that I cannot hit. But I know Deedee can do it.

Question: Now when you write songs, you hear a lot of the demos you write on ukulele a lot, but you play other instruments. Do you find that you write differently depending on what instrument you’re writing for?

Rebecca: Yes! Oh, completely. I have my go-to ukulele chords. But I also like to write songs on the omnichord, which is like a synthetic harpsichord from the 80s. And it has a row of buttons, you hit a button and you get that chord. I can use it for experimentation for chords I might not have thought of. I got one off eBay, the OM-84, and it was a little buggy, it wouldn’t play right, would go out of tune, and I took it to get it looked at, and these incredibly corroded batteries fell out of it! With this cloud of red dust! So I can’t put batteries in it anymore. But I can plug it in and it still works.

Question: So for “Love Like You,” is it connected to any of the characters or any point of view, or was it more a one-off?

Rebecca: “Love Like You” is so unusual. It started as a point-of-view song for all Gems, and the thesis of the whole show, sort of toward Steven, and my own brother Steven, but because it was the credits, I wrote the song over three years in little pieces. I thought at the start that this is about an alien that’s looking at a human, who loves them, and the secret meaning of this is that they don’t have the capacity to feel this way. By the middle of it I was deep into the show and going through a real crisis of confidence, where I was like “why are people looking to me? It’s not right!” and these people were coming out of the woodwork to thank me for the show, people who had been able to speak to their families in these wonderful new ways, people who had become comfortable with themselves in these incredible ways that I had not been able to do! Where I was like “I’m so inspired by everyone! Why are they thanking me?” So the middle of the song I was sort of in that place. And about a year later, I realized the beginning was not what I had thought it was about at all. It’s not a secret meaning about an alien who doesn’t understand humans. It’s about the fact that I had always loved my brother and had these people who would love me unconditionally in my life, and because of my insecurity I had not been able to be there for them 100%, and I realized this was maybe one of the most human things I’d ever written, and I had written it by accident. So I got to conclude it. It was seriously written over 3 years.

Question: Recently we talked about how the show has been dramatic and full of conflict. It’s great but do you ever have concerns about taking the show–it’s a very positive show, so does the conflict have the potential to go too far, or do you like making it more challenging?

Rebecca: I’m excited to be more ambitious with the story, and the danger they’re experiencing also feels like a danger for us who are writing the show. Writing stories that are more ambitious and challenging. It feels necessary, because it’s about how love conquers all, but you can’t write that story without showing what comes up against that. I’m excited to explore the–you’re right, it’s scary to explore where hate comes from in a show about love. I want to–it’s a challenge to stay positive while exploring that. But that’s a challenge I experience in LIFE. And that’s a challenge we’re all experiencing right now. So it also feels like the time to explore that in myself and in the show.

#buymelodramaonitunes

  • the reason melodrama is so complex is that it simultaneously celebrates and criticises parties as a place where the rules no longer apply 
  • parties give us an illusion of control? confined in the world of the party it’s all ‘our rules, our dreams’ and we are ‘kings and queens’
  • homemade dynamite is such a call to arms for our generation okay it feels like a metaphor for the potential we all have to create change 
  • but equally could be a metaphor for our self-destructive tendencies??? 
  • the louvre is beautiful because it glorifies the tiny beautiful moments, relationships that don’t last forever but are still beautiful and priceless and are still works of art - masterpieces and still good enough for the louvre
  • also this is a song about writing a love song? ‘broadcast the boom boom boom and make ‘em all dance to it’ that is literally the conventional role of pop music? 
  • okay but hear me out i think liability/hard feelings are two versions of the same story, liability immediately after the split and hard feelings in retrospect!!!!! there are so many parallels!!!
  • let go of this endless summer afternoon vs. every endless summer’s eating me alive 
  • well i guess i should go vs. well i guess i’ll go home 
  • big mistake of dancing in my storm vs.  how you’d dance for me 
  • i am obsessed with how sober ii explores the performance of being a young adult like ‘oh how fast the evening passes’ and the references to ‘champagne’ suggests some form of performed sophistication 
  • ‘we told you this was melodrama’ could play on this idea of performing a role, or alternatively could play on the way society views the lives of millennials - melodramatic and ridiculous!!!
  • ‘they’ll talk about us, all the lovers, how we kissed and killed each other’  reminds us that this is our legacy, this is how we live forever - it’s super self-reflective and seems to call on us to consider the mark we are leaving on the world BUT also ‘romanticises us making us the stuff of myth and legend, we are immortalised forever in our scandal 
  • writer in the dark!!!!! so like to begin with that double meaning - kissing her literally in the dark / kissing her while he kept her in the dark about how he really felt 
  • this is lorde’s ‘blank space’ revenge song okay fight me on this 
  • her secret power is being able to keep him forever bc she ‘locks him in her heart’ he’ll rue the day he kissed her because in doing so he sealed his fate!!!
  • this is actually REALLY CREEPY I WANT A CREEPY MUSIC VIDEO!!!!
  • okay so love of my life supercut: every chorus is like the actual supercut playing back all the good parts back - that sunny pre-chorus with the repetition, mirroring the idea of a highlights reel playing over and over again
  • but it’s also a metaphor for seeing a past relationship through rose-tinted glasses/the way nostalgia makes things beautiful - she is only remembering the beautiful parts
  • okay but the ultimate storyline of the album seems to be from green light, sober, homemade dynamite we get the impression that ‘all there is, is the party’, whereas liability reprise suggests that ‘maybe all this is the party’ which is such a beautiful and hopeful discovery for the album to make - leading straight into perfect places, which celebrates life with all it’s imperfections and flaws!!!

Pairing: Dean/Cas
Length: 2.5k
Tags: Fluff, Mild Angst, Pining, First Kiss, Canon Divergent
 
Read on AO3

A special thank you to @braezenkitty for being my awesome beta <3

“You just gotta get laid,” Dean said, reseating the burger beside the pile of fries on his plate, this time with a big bite missing. “Or a decent kiss, at least.”

He crumbled a napkin between greasy fingers, tossed it to the middle of the table. Shoved his shirtsleeves up one more time as he tucked his black fed tie under the table ledge and away from the plate. “It’d loosen you up, buddy. And maybe you’d quit tryna live vicariously through horny eighteen-year-olds.”

This was because of the door-to-door canvas. The couple at the park who’d been all over each other, that Castiel hadn’t been able to stop looking at—even after the old, blue-haired lady at 512 Bakersfield Court had made a comment. “Your partner likes to stare…” like she’d never in her seventy-five years of life seen someone curious about such a thing.

If only that was the first time I heard it, too,” Dean’d smiled back from her stoop, the sharp sun cooking them both in the stuffy Tennessee heat. A marked jab to Cas’ ribs, and a walk to the nearest pub later, and Dean was bringing it up again, because, of course he was. Why talk about the case?

“I only glanced at the couple in the park,” Cas sighed. “It’s not a recurring issue. It doesn’t mean anything.”

Dean laughed, lipped his beer bottle, and took a stout drink. “Sure,” he said. “Glanced at them. Glanced at those girls holding hands last week—though, I’ll give ya that one. I gave ‘em a couple once-overs too.”

“Dean—”

“Point is, it ain’t the first time, and you’re a damn liar.”

Cas rolled his eyes. “My being, or not being with people has nothing to do with anything—”

“Has everything to do with everything when you’re touch-starved.”

“I’m not starved. I’ve been… touched.”

Dean scoffed, swirled his beer bottle. “Sure, if you wanna count Reaper-Fools-Day.”

“I’ve kissed more people than April,” Cas bristled back. “How about we talk about what you know of touch starved instead?”

Dean snapped shut, cocked his head as a follow-up comment seemed to slip from his mouth quick. He replaced the words with a couple fries and averted eyes. “Fine,” he relented around the bite. “And?”

“And… What?”

He looked back up, eyebrows jumping. “Were they any good?”

“Who? The people?”

“The kissing, idiot. Was the kissing any good?”

Cas’ heart flopped. He slipped a hand down his beer bottle, and then back up again nervously. The motion pulled Dean’s attention in a glance, so Cas tucked the rogue thing back onto his lap instead. Fingers lacing together under the shelter of the slick waxed top where no one could see. “I don’t know. Yes?” he offered carefully.

“Are you tellin’ me, or askin’ me right now?”

“No—I mean… ” Cas cleared his throat, shifted in his chair, and listened to the wood slats groan. “They were fine. They were… wet.”

“Wet?” Dean repeated. “Cas, wet is how you describe a swimming pool… Oregon in the winter, maybe… Not a kiss. Never a good kiss.”

“Then how should I describe it?”

“No, I mean… if they were wet, then they were wet—”

“No, please. You tell me.”

Dean’s face suddenly fell wide in mock innocence. “What? You want me to describe a good kiss to you right now? In the middle of a restaurant.”

“If wet is insufficient—”

“Oh, yeah. It’s like, miles of not-sufficient-ness, dude.”

Cas chewed a smile down and gestured Dean’s way. Crossed his arms, and sat back. He watched Dean waffle before finally sliding back in his chair to think. He splayed wide, elbows up on the armrests and knees hugging the corners. His face caught the dim overhead lights, and the sun-kissed healthy pink of his skin shone back like warm earth.

He had white in the creases beside his eyes where his smile lines had shaded him from the harsh afternoon sun. A little cut of tan at the bridge of his nose where his sunglasses sat after he’d gotten sick of squinting through the reflections of every bright midday door.

“Okay, it’s like this,” he said finally, tapping an erratic finger on the neck of his bottle, and pausing to worry his lip. “A kiss is a kiss is a kiss, til it ain’t. If you’re with the right person, then the tension between you’s gonna be thick enough to cut. It’s gonna feel like you’ve got a firecracker in your gut, and that other person’s just flicking the Bic. The minute the two of you kiss, the fuse lights. That bastard explosive rips up through your chest, and pops behind your eyes, and I’m talking—screw seeing colors at that point—you’ll be so wrecked, you’ll know what they sound like.

Castiel smiled as Dean came back in with a languid look, and a tongue tip between his teeth. He peeled forward, hovering over the table, so much closer than before, that there was only the dragging smell of his burger all tangled up in his woody cologne for Cas to breathe.

“That’s a good kiss,” he said slowly, and maybe it was Castiel’s imagination, but the sun kiss on Dean’s cheeks had spread to his ears now. “Sounds good, don’t it?”

“It sounds very good,” Castiel agreed. “Very surreal.”

Dean let a long, animated sigh into the room and it mixed happy with the gentle murmur of the busy forks and glasses around them. “Oh, it’s very real,” he said. “Just not very common.”

He poked absently at the pile of cooling fries, and sucked the salt from the end of his finger. The gorgeous smacking sound it made curled red ribbons in Cas’ stomach. “Still, you find someone who’ll give you that, and it’s the kinda thing that’ll right some wrongs. Know what I mean?”

Cas took a long drink, smile falling as the carbonation from his beer prickled reality back into his tongue. “Sure,” he said quietly. “I’ll have to take your word for it.”

Dean’s mouth thinned, and his eyes ping-ponged away uneasy. He tailed and tacked down the waitress, kept locked on her as she floated behind the counter poking something into the mounted LED screen beside the register. “Doesn’t that rub you, though?” he asked, “not knowing for yourself. Don’t you… want that with somebody?”

Cas puffed surprised, and his mouth went dry. Try as he might, the beer wouldn’t wet it. “I mean, yes…” he said earnestly, and the admission ate holes in his stomach.

“Then… how come you ignore all the waitresses I send your way? You’re never gonna get it if you don’t even try.”

Cas was suddenly, and shamefully aware of his attention at Dean’s lips, and when Dean snagged a glance at him, Cas tore his eyes away, shoved them onto the table instead. Focused everything he had on the bleed of condensation below the cool, brown bottle to his left.

“Those people wouldn’t change anything,” he said to the ring. “Colors were never meant to make sounds for some.”

Dean fidgeted the fries again, finally pushed them aside, and brushed the salt off his hand this time instead of eating it. “I guess we better head out,” he said, flagging the waitress. “Sam’s waiting.”


They paid, and headed back out into the melty summer heat. It was sunset, but the air was still laying in the city thick as a wool blanket. Shadows stretched through the streets like plastic-capped Halloween fingers, crowding up in the alleyways and turns, painting the dingy brick walls black.

Cas flared his coat to check his back pocket for his wallet as they passed a couple people with hungry eyes, but just as quickly remembered that he’d dropped his last twenty for the meal, and let the impulse to feed them drift out. Still, he welcomed the brief breeze it gave him, and he wondered if maybe it was getting time to rethink the coat. Grace or not, he seemed to be touchier to the temperatures these days, and it was starting to seem like wardrobe was becoming more important—practically speaking.

Dean shed his own suit coat as if he’d just read Castiel’s mind, and slung it over his shoulder with a hooked finger. His shirtsleeves were still shoved up to his elbows under the blazer, as if he’d put it on after dinner, distracted. “Nothing fancy,” he murmured to his feet.

“Pardon?”

“Hmm—?” He looked over quick, eyes wide, before blinking them back down. “What?”

“I just didn’t catch what you said.”

Dean shook his head. “I didn’t—” But when Cas frowned, opened his mouth to contest, Dean relented. “Oh, you mean the, uh, thing I said out loud…” He cleared his throat, added “apparently” under his breath, and slowed down for some oncoming foot traffic.

“I was just thinking about the, uh, Nichols’ story,” he said, temporarily falling in line behind Cas as a group of people passed. He touched the small of Cas’ back out of nowhere, and kept his hand there. Cas’ chest snagged. “The alibi Brent was peddling didn’t feel right.” His voice was soft in Cas’ ear, almost breathy—but brief, and when he pulled up beside Cas again, sidewalk clear, Cas grabbed a shaky glance, but Dean wasn’t watching.

“You, uh, think they have something to do with the black magic we’re seeing?” Cas asked, and his voice managed to pour out level, despite his stomach coming off that quick rollercoaster dip.

“I mean, the house was a little much for a twenty-hour a week gas-slinging gig at the local area Gas n’ Sip, don’t you think?”

It was the most they’d talked about the case all day.

“Fancy,” Cas reiterated, then, “I certainly never would’ve been able to afford that place when I worked there.” For some reason, the comment pulled Dean tight at the joints. “But I couldn’t even afford hourly motels.”

“Well… the hourlies charge more.”

Cas frowned again, started to ask why when Dean squirmed past it. “But, you’re right,” he said. “Doesn’t add up no matter how you flip the numbers.”

“So, do you suspect they’re the source of the black magic, or victims of it?”

They hopped down the curb, checking the way for traffic, and ended up on the grassy side of Spring Street, just down from their motel. Dean popped a piece of gum in his mouth, balled the wrapper, and stuck it back in his pocket instead of tossing it away.

“I suspect there’s something screwy going on,” he said, “and that’s as far as I’ve got.”

He plucked the gum from his mouth a moment later, and flicked it to the bushes, ran a hand down his face. “Sam’s doing backgrounds as we speak. Here’s hoping there’s a smoking gun in there somewhere. But, ‘til we get that, we’re pulling straws.”

The streetlamps kicked on, buzzing like fireflies in the thick night, the light falling on the street in goldweave strings as they hustled past a defunct sporting goods store—hollow bones brick and mortar now. No one missing what used to be inside.

Dean scanned the streets, watched another few strings of dusk foot traffic pass on the left while he chewed his cheeks.

“Did Sam find anything at the morgue?” Cas pressed, because the silence seemed oddly unnerving.

“No—I mean, uh, I don’t know. Haven’t talked to him.”

“I thought we were meeting him.”

Dean’s attention caught up in a little alcove at the end of the street and he gripped his jacket tighter, tucked his chin and let a heavy breath out. “We are,” he said quietly.

“Not at the morgue?”

“Um, no, he’s at the motel,” Dean said, and he sounded nervous. “Waiting to take us.”

“Maybe we’ll get lucky and we’ll find a hex bag, or—”

Dean suddenly shoved Cas’ sideways, off the street and into the alcove, shadows tangling up in the corners of it, all those long witch fingers bleeding to flat black. Castiel grunted, surprised. “What’re you—” and his throat went dry as Dean pushed him into the stuccoed brick backside of a closed Chinese restaurant, hands curling up on both sides of Cas’ jaw, but fingers combing a soft arc “—doing?”

“Nothin’, if you don’t want me to,” Dean whispered, conviction skippy at best. His body was hot against Cas. Heavy and hard. Nothing like April’s… Meg’s… Hannah’s…

The question—and it was a question—coiled in Cas’ belly like a fever dream, but an answer never had a chance of bubbling back out. Because a response would’ve been moot before it ever left his lips. Castiel’s pause was too long to be a no, and his fingers had already found their way to Dean’s waist. They were making note of the way his blue button down clung to his sides, like the tee underneath had been soaking in all that sudden, nervous heat since before they’d ever even left the bar.

And so, Dean brushed their lips together, not a hesitation so much as dipping a toe, and a rush of butterflies went right to Cas’ head without mercy. Cas whimpered without meaning to, and Dean landed the meat of the kiss, hands falling down Cas’ neck and dragging that unruly sensation through. His lips were soft and his cheeks, five o’clock gritty. He worked Cas’ mouth open with a roll of his jaw, and a flirty burst of mint graced Cas with the pass of Dean’s tongue.

Castiel melted into it, fingers curling around the back of Dean’s head as he tried desperately to get a handhold on something. Their hips rolled together. Cas stole himself a handful of Dean’s ass. Felt Dean hard against him as he moved against Cas’ thigh.

Dean’s breath went rocky, like he was fighting some kind of tightrope walk of heavy and thin, and the sound he made was dirty enough to sin. Castiel nosed him, combed fingers through his hair as Dean pulled back. His eyes fell hot on Cas’ mouth. The shadows ate the flush from his face, but not the burning heat of it.

“Now tell me again,” he whispered, voice licking at Cas ear and coming out like gravy. “Tell me again what a kiss feels like.”

Castiel huffed, tried to catch his running brain. He couldn’t help himself, hands still at Dean’s waist, he held him there. The both of them were hard, and neither of them were in a hurry to do anything about it. “I would say… green makes a helluva sound,” he whispered back.

He watched a wicked smile crawl through Dean’s face. “There it is,” Dean hummed, dragging a chill with his thumb from the skin he’d bared at Cas’ side, and chasing it to Cas’ neck with a soft breath, a kiss. “An’ I’m just getting started too.”

Then, he pulled away, the absence of his sticky heat leaving Cas bare. The gravel chewed under Dean’s heels as he headed for the street, pausing only to stoop for the jacket he’d shed at some point on the way. He shook it off, straightened his tie. “Let’s go! We’re late!”

Castiel swallowed, hand to his stomach, and peeled himself from the brick.

Forget me not

It’s been about a year since my last Miraculous Ladybug fanfic list. Given the fandom is three years old and season 2 is right around the corner (hopefully), I believe it’s time to relive and explore some of the best fanfics the fandom has to offer. By no means is this list comprehensive. Many fics aren’t on here. (I’m working on a list for newer fics, so stay tuned!)

Rainy Days by @thelastpilot (Not rated)
A storm rolls through Paris and refuses to let up, so when a water fearing cat is rescued by the kind efforts of his designing classmate he starts to pay a little closer attention to someone he should have always known better.

he’s not a siren by @miraculousturtle (Rated T)
Merman AU. Their meeting is orchestrated by fate, conducting them one at a time to step on the stage. With the flick of the baton, in time, they will sing the same song, but only if they aren’t swept away by the ocean’s mighty waves.

An Unexpected Surprise by @sweetprincessluck (Rated M)
Adrien Agreste. Age 26. A successful international supermodel, currently changing careers to a CEO of a fashion empire. Was born and raised in Paris, had moved to the USA 6 years ago, came back for a visit. Kind, handsome, lonely. Had experienced a lot, had seen even more. Had nothing left that could surprise him anymore.Except, maybe, this - a small, blonde girl, with emerald eyes and freckles scattered across the bridge of her nose – a splitting image of his mother Lillian Agreste, excluding, perhaps, the freckles.Her name was Emma. Emma Dupain-Cheng, to be exact.

Obsession by @kryallaorchid (Rated T)
Miraculous has unintended side effects. A chance encounter leaves Chat Noir in Marinette’s magic hands. Scritch and scratch, this kitty has needs. MariChat. 

Smoulder by @midnightstarlightwrites (Rated T)
In which Adrien loses a bet and becomes an underwear model, Marinette loses her mind, and the whole fiasco starts a fire which might lead to the pair discovering their identities.

Retrouvailles by @gigiree (Rated G)
There’s an art to telling stories. There’s an art to ending them. Just know that saying “the end” is just another way of saying it’s a new beginning. When she says goodbye, her luck is gone. His has just begun.Tattoo and Flowershop AU!

Over the Wall by @imthepunchlord (Rated G)
The accident, while unintentional, was costly. For her wrong doings against Chloe, Marinette is sent over the wall to die. But instead of death, she winds up in a strange, unnerving world. Good thing she’ll have a cat to watch her back in this bizarre place.

Chasing the C/h/atwalk by @runningoutofink (Rated T)
Paris. The city of lights, love and fashion. Follow the progress of Marinette Dupain Cheng as she enters the extremely competitive world of Reality television for a chance to be the winner of Project Runway: France.

Lucky Us by @geek-fashionista (Rated T)
-AU- Marinette Dupain-Cheng’s life isn’t going as planned: twenty-six, recently dumped, and running her parents’ bakery. The highlights of her day are the emails sent by her mysterious pen pal, Chat Noir. That is, until handsome model Adrien Agreste starts swinging by the bakery after hours. But how is he to know the Ladybug he loves is standing right in front of him?

Guardians by @wintermoth (Rated T)
In the year 2015, Marinette Dupain-Cheng said yes to Tikki, the kwami of Creation. Two days later, Adrien Agreste said yes to Plagg, the kwami of Destruction.For the first time in over a thousand years, the cat and the bug were starting fresh. (immortal AU)

Découvrir by @xiueryn (Rated M)
A decade apart and he still remembered her. Marinette contacts her childhood friend in hopes of rekindling their forgotten relationship despite him being a celebrity, only to assume him to be someone else entirely. AU.

Bare Necessities by @reyxa (Rated M)
Art School AU where Adrien is the nude model in Marinette’s human figure class. Major sin warning but it’s more awkward than sexy. Definitely not for little ears… or eyes I guess…

Serendipitous Fate by @skaylanphear (Rated M)
Adrien is excited to reveal his true identity, while Marinette is terrified. But Master Fu says they can’t afford to be distant any longer. Chat Noir and Ladybug are meant to work in tandem both in and out of uniform, their strength stemming from the bond created between them. Yet, teenagers are sometimes better at dancing blind than running with wide open eyes, even with the steps laid out before them.Steps in the path of an expanding world. Apart, they’ll flounder. But together, they might just stand a chance.

Tikki’s New Friend by @panda013 (Rated G)
The dog was easily the height of his chest, and the young woman walking it could have only come up to his shoulder. But she was just cheerfully walking along beside the dog, chatting and laughing happily with a redheaded young woman. The dog was a big black beast—he didn’t know the breed then, nor did he particularly care, but it whined pitifully when its equally dark-haired owner paused to read a street sign. She just giggled and reached out a hand to ruffle its fur, and the giant’s tail wagged happily.

heartstrings by @zenwisterias (Rated T)
one of marinette’s rare unlucky days turns into something treacherous. thanks to a certain cat, the real danger passes, but there are other things to be more afraid of. her heart, for example, might be one of them.

The Ladybugs and the Bees by @bullysquadess (Rated M)
This originally started as a fanfic about periods and just devolved into crack.

You Don’t Know Me by @ferisae (Rated T)
When Ladybug suffers a near-fatal accident and is presumed dead, it is up to Adrien - who has discovered Ladybug’s secret - to help her through her painstaking recovery and reacquaint her with herself. All this while trying to save Paris on his own without losing himself in the process.

Satisfaction Brought It Back by @siderealsandman (Rated E)
Most people rekindled friendships with people from high school over Facebook or Twitter. Most people met for coffee, shared pictures of their bratty children, and sent old friends Christmas letters once a year. Marinette was clearly not most people as she had somehow hooked up with her former high school crush on a bondage dating website and didn’t know it until he was standing in front of her with an identical look of bemused embarrassment plastered all over his pretty face.

A Werecat in London by @i-am-thornqueen (Rated M)
After an unfortunate encounter with an akuma while in London on a business trip, Chat Noir is forced to deal with the unexpected consequences. Can Ladybug help him return to his normal self, or will he be stuck for the rest of his life getting in touch with his wild side?

tangled ribbons by @demistories (Rated G)
Marinette is a small studio dancer who wins a scholarship to a summer long ballet intensive. Adrien is a famous ballet dancer who would rather be at home than at said intensive. The end of the summer will bring about a showcase that could make Marinette’s career, if she can ignore Chloé and focus on something other than Adrien.

The Space Between Us by @chassecroise (Rated T)
What’s a ladybug to do when her kitten becomes a cat?

Accident of the Evening by @thatwriterchickrachel (Rated T)
Adrien Agreste, rumoured royalty, just wants a normal life. But one night on the run he meets Marinette, a normal girl, with a normal life. Marinette can’t believe it. Her long-time celebrity crush had crashed into her life and was now hanging out with her and her friends in between his busy schedule.With the Annual Parisian Masquerade Ball approaching, and an announcement sure to change everything looming over them, the two young adults begin a friendship and a double life.

Emergence by @artisticflutter (Rated M)
They were only teenagers, but they are no more. Forced to awaken to new powers, both find themselves codependent on the other in order to survive and escape from their captors. They are Ladybug and Chat Noir - they are Marinette Dupain-Cheng and Adrien Agreste. Part One of a possible series.

The Lights that Lead Us Home by @oceanspray5 (Rated G)
Based on @piku-chan’s Cinderella AU on Tumblr. Marinette remains at the Palace to train as a noble and Adrien takes on more responsibilities as King. The wedding is planned for the Prince and his Princess and despite any outside meddling forces, goes off without a hitch.

Le Chat Noir by ParadiseAvenger (Rated E)
Le Chat Noir was the most popular strip club in Paris. Marinette could explain how she wound up there the first time, but she couldn’t explain how she kept coming back.

The Wingman Visits by @niuniente (Rated M)
When Chat Noir finds out Ladybug’s real identity as Marinette, he also discovers her huge crush for Adrien. As a gentleman he is Chat Noir offers to be a wingman between Marinette and Adrien, trying to get them together.

Sealed away by @ashesandhoney (Rated T)
Five years ago, Ladybug left Paris and left Chat Noir to learn how to keep it together on his own.Marinette is back in Paris with an internship at the Agreste Fashion house trying to get the spring show up and running and as much as Adrien appreciates having a friend at work, he’s distracted by Ladybug’s return and more Akuma attacks than either of them have faced before.Something big is coming and nothing can stay sealed away forever.

Cut from the Same Cloth by @baneismydragon (Rated T)
When Gabriel notices that Adrien is collecting various supplies from his office, he assumes that his son has finally decided to show an interest in the family business. However when he tries to show his support by showing up at a school presentation, things quickly spiral out of control and everyone learns more than they bargained for

Désolé by @pozolegirl (Rated G)
‘The Cat’s out of the Bag’ as Adrien would say, and now Marinette and Adrien must work through their emotions during this new reveal of identities, all while Hawkmoth is hot on their trail and not about to let them slip away from him, taking matters into his own hands.

Sing the Song of Sailing Sirens by @princessofharte (Rated T)
Adrien Agreste is the Pirate Lord of the High Seas, chasing a British flagship until Le Chat Noir is blown off course into a green storm.

This is not a complete list of the best fics in the fandom. Many of these authors have written multiple fanfics for this fandom and they are all amazing. Indeed, many of the fics on AO3 with the most hits, the most kudos, and the most comments were other fics not mentioned here but completed by many of these authors. Every work of fanfiction is amazing. If you want to help encourage writers to write more awesome fanfiction, please leave a comment on their works. It can be as short as “This is great!” Seriously. We live off validation.

It’s not narcissism if I add in my own fic here, right?

Was there anything I missed? Leave it in the reblogs and spread the word so that others–including myself–can read it!

fake dating! zimbits

It was only by a stroke of luck that Jack happened to look at his phone just as he exits the lecture hall. The group chat was blowing up – the group chat was always blowing up these days – but the lack of all-caps or exclamation marks caught his attention right away.

Eric Bittle: Guys, I wouldn’t ask this of y’all if I really didn’t need this, but I have to ask a HUGE favor of one of you.

Shitty Knight: brah are you dying

Justin Oluransi: You can have my kidney, Bits.

Adam Birkholtz: u aren’t gonna save that for me just in CASE, JUSTIN?

Larissa Duan: shit, bitty, r u ok

Eric Bittle: Um, yeah, mostly, I just…..need someone to pretend to be my boyfriend.

Keep reading

a comprehensive list of every harry potter character i want to know more about
  • hannah abbott - is she doing okay? how’s her and neville’s relationship going? do they have any kids? does she make like the best butterbeer ever? i want to know
  • bathsheda babbling - apparently she was the ancient runes teacher at hogwarts and truly i just want to know more about her because look at that fucking name
  • katie bell - how’s my girl katie doing? hopefully not too affected by that whole dark curse thing she had to deal with? also i just want to know more about her like how’d she get into quidditch what were her stats like when did her and oliver wood get married
  • phineas negillus black - truly it’s tragic that whenever i picture him in my mind i see phineas from phineas and ferb with black hair and a very large black wizarding cloak on but like besides that how was he as a headmaster? what was he like? does he take joy in being a little dick head? i truly want to know
  • susan bones - how is she after her aunt’s death? what’s she doing with her life? susan bones sounds like the type of girl who’d be really really good at braiding hair. is she really really good at braiding hair?
  • lavender brown - i hope she’s doing okay and that she’s learning to live with the scars greyback gave her and hopefully she’s not a werewolf and listen she just liked ron is that really such a crime jk rowling did her so dirty!!! also i want to know everything about her and parvati’s relationship “friendship” and all the crazy make-outs shenanigans they got into
  • charity burbage - how’d she get into teaching muggle studies? was she scared those last few moments of her life? was she a good teacher? why the hell did jk rowling never let us witness a muggle studies class
  • alecto & amycus carrow - damn tell me everything about these two what was their childhood how’d they get into the dark arts literally how far were they willing to go because like torturing children is just fucking evil
  • the cattermoles - did they actually grab their family and get out of britain?? i sure hope so
  • penelope clearwater - how’s she doing??? did she get like fucking awesome grades?? how’d she react when percy was being a Dick? important questions
  • dennis creevey - legit how many times did collin write to him about harry? i bet dennis was like “jesus fuck mate shut up”. is he doing okay? i sure hope so. i hope he got into photography too
  • fleur delacour - listen i just want to know MORE what kind of student was she??? how many friends did she have??? i want more elaboration on her relationship with her sister. i want a whole god damn book just about fleur’s life. god damn it
  • dedalus diggle - how did anyone let him become an auror with a name like that
  • the dumbledores - please, for the love of god, i’d die if jk rowling gave us a book on the dumbledores. think about all that information. wow.
  • arabella figg - how did a squib get in contact with dumbledore? how was her life growing up being a squib? what were all her cat’s names? did she go play bridge every night with her friends? these are questions i need answers to
  • seamus finnigan - “me mam” oh you sweet boy how i love you. when was the first time he and dean kissed and was it as magical as he thought?? i won’t rest until i am answered
  • mundungnus fletcher - so like did he become like he is because of his name or did he change his name to reflect the fact that he was an utter piece of shit
  • filius flitwick - how’d he get into charms!!! what were his favorite teaching methods!!! favorite students!!! literally anything!!!
  • florean fortescue - i want to know every single damn flavor of ice cream he had in his shop. also, did he ever reopen it??
  • astoria greengrass - how’d she and draco meet? what are her political views?? her family life??? what kind of mother was she to scorpius?? i bet she was a damn elegant one
  • rubeus hagrid - like i want DETAILS about his life at hogwarts. every damn one. and about his life afterwards. i want a tour of his cottage. transcripts of every date he went on with madame maxime or whatever. a list of every single pet he ever owned. i want stories about him going to romania and visiting charlie. i want EVERYTHING
  • angelina johnson - my BITCH how’s she doing???? how’s life after hogwarts for her?? is she kicking ass and taking names?? i sure hope so. is she playing quidditch? or maybe she’s like a wizarding lawyer or something like stone cold bitch!!!! love that girl. what kind of mother is she? when did she and george fall in love?? does she still meet up with alicia spinnet and katie bell every once in a while for tea and biscuits and a chat?
  • lee jordan - IS HE A PROFESSIONAL COMMENTATOR. THAT’S ALL I WANT TO KNOW
  • bellatrix lestrange - i honestly just want to know everything about her. how was she growing up? her relationship with her sisters? when did she like fall in love or infatuation or lust or whatever with voldemort??? is like the no nose thing a kink? when’d she lose her mind? important questions
  • frank and alice longbottom - how’d they meet? how’d they fall in love? how’d they get married? they deserved better
  • ernie macmillan - did he ever stop being such a little bitch?
  • minerva mcgonagall - LEGITIMATELY EVERYTHING I WANT TO KNOW EVERYTHING i want a 1000 page essay detailing her time at hogwarts
  • cormac mclaggen - did he ever stop being such a big dick?
  • the patil sisters - listen tell me about like hinduism and magic and indian culture and hindu mythology and magic and also just everything about these sisters and their sisterly bond and how they were both underestimated and taken for giggling girls even though they were smart as fuck i love them
  • kingsley shacklebolt - okay i wanna hear how awesome he was at school and about how everyone loved him and i wanna hear about his adventures in the ministry and him talking to the muggle prime minister and basically how fucking awesome he was
  • dean thomas - his love for soccer!!!! tell me all about it!!!! his love for seamus!!!!! tell me all about it!!!!
  • ted tonks - how did he and andromeda fall in love??? did he try to convince her he was worth it???? was he Smooth As Fuck??? important questions
  • the weasleys - like i KNOW we know a ton about them but i just want MORE. i want more charlie and bill and bill and ginny’s relationship and all the siblings hanging out and i just want MORE of the dynamic
⇁ nudes, not flowers | 02

Originally posted by bangtannoonas

pairing⇁Hoseok x Reader x Jungkook

genre⇁smut || fuckboi!au

warnings⇁voyeurism + exhibitionism, dom!junghope, power play?, dirty talk!!!, jealousy, demeaning names during sex, the threesome, & probably other warnings byE 

word count⇁10.4k 

You’re not supposed to fall for Jung Hoseok and his repertoire of awful pick-up lines—but you do. The problem is: he’s afraid of commitment, and bolts at the idea of settling down. After that, you decide to stay far away from fuckboys, but his friend decides to test your new found resolutions.

or : Jungkook wants to see how far he can push Hoseok until he snaps

 ⇁  01 | 02 (final)  sequel

Keep reading

Sterek Hogwarts AU

“Stiles are you sure about that last petal?” Scott crouched under the table.

“Nope” stiles answered, sweat dripping down his forehead, hand shaking over the bubbling cauldron.

“Maybe you should ask Harris?”

“Maybe you should own up to that Gryffindor tie and help me” Stiles hissed back at him.

“Or Derek?” Scott whispered making Stiles jump.

“Why him?!”

“He’s looking this way like he wants to help us” Scott nodded his head towards the table to the left where Lehey and Hale were working on their cauldron.

“He is?!”

Was the last thing the class heard before the petal slipped from Stiles’s fingers and into the cauldron. started sizzling in exactly 0.2 seconds and exploding into green slime over the entire 3 rows surrounding it.

One good thing that came out of this entire failure was that Derek Hale was the first one to run up to Stiles and help him clear the slime out of his face, while holding him in his other arm to his chest.

Stiles dreamed about those arms for the next week.

Where Every Brown Sugar Baby Should Look for Her Next Sugar Daddy and Why

The more the game changes, the more it stays the same.

     Best friend, my first disappointment with sugaring came when I realized that sugaring sites were not for me. When I joined Tumblr, I was surrounded by stories of women who signed up for Seeking Arrangement and within an hour found their inbox full of messages from men willing to hand them the world or at least a pair of So Kate’s on the first date. When I joined Tumblr, I thought that I was going to command large allowances just because I existed, not because I did any work. I learned otherwise.

     My successes with sugaring came when I got very clear about what exactly it was that I was sugaring for. I realized that I couldn’t make myself care about designer goods. They’re pretty, and I loved looking at them on Instagram but dating a man so he could buy me luxury goods just did not seem like a lot of fun. But art supplies? Everything I needed to write a novel and maintain my blog? That sounded much more feasible. As soon as I committed to it, it happened. As soon as I got off the sugaring sites, it happened.  

     As an introvert, I did get off the sugaring sites, but it took me quite a while to get off the internet. I used Tinder to find the three gift daddies that I had. Last month, I went free styling for the first time.   

     There is a general horror around free styling that, trust me, I understand. If I didn’t have to leave my house, I wouldn’t. But I realized a few things. The sugar sites are not set up for you to succeed. We, as sugar babies, are the draw that is used to attract men with money and unrealistic dreams.  

     Do you want to have the perfect relationship? A young, beautiful, smart woman who will hang off your every word and, unlike escorts, will be with you and you alone for a fraction of the price that escorts are demanding? Sign up for a membership with our site at the low price of $39.99/month and become a sugar daddy tonight!

     While this might not be the exact language the sites are using, I guarantee if you go on any of the sugar sites you will see something similar being touted to men.  I also promise that the men that have the real potential to be amazing sugar daddies and give you things you didn’t believe that you could get aren’t on these sites.
     

     And, honey, maybe you haven’t noticed but online dating-sugar or vanilla- is not set up for black women to succeed. I’ll say it once more. You’re far more likely to find the man you’re looking for when you let go of the sugar sites.
So what happens next? Next, you change your mindset. There is one thing that needs adjustment, your attitude, in two different areas. The first is what a sugar daddy looks like. Maybe you don’t have this problem. But I do. I tend to find myself thinking that sugar daddies look a certain way. They’re white and in their 40’s-50’s. Most of them are married. But this isn’t what sugar daddies look like. They can be any age. They can be any race. They can be anywhere. When it’s time to free style, don’t think that if a Black man, an Asian man, a Martian, whatever, approaches you that because they don’t fit in with the idea of what you think an SD looks like you can’t pay any attention to them.

     There will be three types of men that you’ll meet when you go out: cheap men that would like your time and attention for free, men that will simply ask how much you want or make it known that they have no problem paying you, and men that are willing to spend money on you but need some type of connection with you first. Ugh, connection. Don’t you hate that word? Men should just hand us money because we asked for it right? We’re young, we’re beautiful, we’re smart. Just fork over the coins.

     But consider this. How often do you give money to complete strangers because they asked for it? How often have you walked up to an attractive or interesting looking person with $5 that you know you don’t need and said: “here this is for you just because you look cool or like you needed a little help”? Never right? If we were a society where that was the norm homelessness would not be an issue. No, we give our money to people we like, to people that have bettered our lives in some way, to people we trust. But, still. That word-connection. Months and months of dates. Maybe even putting out. That must be what I mean, right? Nope. Not what I mean at all. A connection can be made in 15 minutes or 15 months. It really just depends on how well your personality meshes with his.

     How do you tell these men apart? Let’s build a scenario, shall we? Let’s say you meet a man at a bar. You each talk a bit about who you are and what you do for a living. His job sounds promising. You don’t know exactly how much he makes but when you google it in the bathroom after touching up your lipstick you see that it’s an acceptable amount. He buys you a drink to continue the conversation you’ve already started, but when the night ends, he doesn’t pick up the tab you had started before he sat down. Splenda! Salt! That’s what Tumblr will tell you. I say wait. You spend some time texting. He says he wants to take you out. This is when we find out what kind of man he is by analyzing a few things:


  • Where does he want to meet? TGIFridays or one of the best restaurants/bars in the city. Look at where he wants to take you and why. If he asks you where you want to eat and then shoots it down because it’s overpriced or “just not his scene” you have two options: dig your heels in or run. My first meeting with Bentley took some time to plan because he shot down the restaurants that I chose as not being good enough for a first date. It was a good first sign. 
  • How and what do they order? We know what a man who doesn’t want to spend a lot of money looks like when he orders at a restaurant or bar. He asks if there are any discounts or deals. Asks what’s the best and cheapest drink or food item on the menu. Makes “jokes” about how expensive everything is. 
  • How do they look when you order? A man that asks if you want anything else after you’ve decided what you want is a keeper. A man that asks what you want scans the menu and then asks if you’re sure you want those things or if you’d be happy with something cheaper presents you with two options: to dig your heels in or run.
  • What are they talking to you about? A man that talks about sex as soon as he meets you only wants you for one thing and it ain’t playing cards. Now, if he’s willing to compensate you for that time in a way that you find acceptable, fine. Get your money girl. If you want a man that cares about you as an individual but he can’t stop talking about how well he’s doing on Viagra, you have two options. Dig in or run. I suggest you run, but this is your life, not mine
  • Do they listen when you speak? Do they remember what you said? I got my first laptop from a man who listened when I talked about wanting to write. I got my second laptop and art supplies from a man who listened to my business plan. If they can’t hear you, they can’t help you. 

     When the date is over, look at this man’s behavior. You’ll know if he’s the type of man that you can keep in your life. If he isn’t, let him go. LET HIM GO! Don’t, please friend, don’t hang on to a man because you don’t think that you’ll be able to get another. This game isn’t for the desperate that need quick cash because their life is falling apart. This is going to take time. You’ll find yourself getting dressed up and going out quite a few times before you find a man that you’re willing to stick with. If you understand this from the beginning, that reaching any goal is going to take time, you’ll be far less likely to fail.

     I’d like to give one piece of controversial advice. Do not ask for a gift or token or whatever you want to call it on the first date. Remember what we talked about earlier? About how we don’t give away our hard earned money to strangers or the undeserving? This applies here. And I know, I know. The posts of girls that say they asked for a gift and got one is so much more fun to read than what I’m saying, but here we are best friend, here we are.

     You do have one thing on your side. Men know that it is their responsibility to take care of the women in their lives. Vanilla men know this. They know. I’m going to say it one more time, best friend so it really sinks in. All men know that it is their responsibility to take care of the women in their lives. What’s more, they know that the younger and better looking a woman is, the more they will have to spend. Your job is not to convince a man to spend money on you. He already knows he should. Your job is to separate the men willing to spend from the men not willing to spend by opening up your mouth and talking about what you want. Talk about college and the class that you’re going to be taking, but god isn’t it crazy how expensive books are? Talk about how much you love to write, but your laptop broke. Talk about how you want to get into digital photography but don’t know what camera to get or if you can afford to buy one. Give it a couple weeks. The right man will show up with a laptop, or an iPad, or a book, or a camera or whatever it is you say you need. The wrong man won’t have made it past the first date.

Happy hunting, best friend.

Best friend, be honest, what did you think? Do you think you could ever get off the sugar sites? Go free styling? Do you think my approach makes any sense or is something that could work for you? Leave me a comment and let me know so we can talk about it.

My favorite anime movies

This is a list I always wanted to share, so if you haven’t watched those please go and don’t lose time time reading this. You will come and thank me later lol

Hotarubi no mori e

Originally posted by animeonjapan

“It is sad not to love, but it is much sadder not to be able to love.”


Once in life you  find a form of media that is able to touch your heart in more ways, It’s abe to make you laugh, cry out loud, get angry, make you feel happy: This was anime for me. And hotarubi no mori just remembered me why anime has such an important part in my life. Hotarubi is the kind of gem that no matter how time passes you just can’t forget it. In just 40 minutes it leaves such a bing impact in your life. This is literlly one of the biggest masterpiece anime has made so far, so please go and watch this gem

Synopsis

Intrigued by the tale of a mountain god, six-year-old Hotaru Takegawa loses her way in the ancient forest while visiting her uncle. Exhausted and desperate for help, Hotaru is thrilled to find a masked forest spirit named Gin. She learns the hard way that she should not touch the boy, or he would disappear. In spite of this, Gin leads Hotaru out of the forest and warns her never to return when she promises to come again with a gift.

Paying no heed to his cautionary words, and despite being separated by both distance and planes of existence, Hotaru and Gin become close friends as she visits him every summer. However, their relationship and resolve are put to the test, when romantic feelings conflict with the one and only rule.

Based on Yuki Midorikawa’s manga of the same name,

Hotarubi no Mori e

is a tale of friendship and compromise of two people who should never have crossed paths, as their lives become hopelessly intertwined.

Whatch this anime if you’re looking for:

  • Stunning soundtrack
  • Amazing character devolpment
  • Love is pure and this anime will prove it to you
  • Simple yet touching story, Simple is best
  • Watch it you love youkai and you like MIdorikawa yukis works
  • Fluffy and cute gags
  • Start it and stay for the fees

Toki wo Kakeru Shoujo

Originally posted by mirayama

I literally discovered this anime by mistake and it was the most beatiful mistake I’ve ever made. It make me laugh, it made me cry, it broke my heart. This is one of the most simple yet beatiful anime I’ve ever seen. It just plays with the cruelty of how impotent we are and how we should cherish any moment, since time is precious buddy.

Synopsis

Makoto Konno is in her last year of high school, but is having a hard time deciding what to do with her future. In between enduring the pressure of her teachers and killing time with her best friends, Makoto’s life suddenly changes when she accidentally discovers that she is capable of literally leaping through time.

Toki wo Kakeru Shoujo

follows Makoto as she plays around with her newfound power. However, she soon learns the hard way that every choice has a consequence, and time is a lot more complicated than it may seem.

Whatch this anime if you’re looking for:

 Amazing leads

Great and imprevidible story

Beatiful soundtrack

Amazing charachters

Hilarious comedy

Fantastic character devolpment

Whatch it for one of the best and most memorable anime couple


Hal

Originally posted by nataku-s

Hal is one of those anime who people skip thinking that is the same superficial love drama. Or maybe they don’t even know it’s existence since it’s so underarted. And once they finish it they understand how wrong they were. This anime broke and yet healed me in so many ways.

Synopsis

Kurumi is a beautiful young woman whose beloved boyfriend,

Hal

, died in a sudden airplane accident. Left heartbroken and gloomy, she isolates herself in a small house. But this soon comes to change when her grandfather requests the help of a humanoid robot named Q01.

Taking on the appearance of Hal, Q01 is sent to Kurumi’s house in order to save her from her state of despair. As Hal returns day after day and increases his efforts, Kurumi, despite her initial reluctance, slowly begins to open up to him and break free from her depression. But there is more to Hal than meets the eye, and these two will soon learn an unexpected truth about this relationship between a human and an android.

[Written by MAL Rewrite]

Whatch this anime if you’re looking for:

  • The lovely io sakisaka art properly animated I disliked aoharuride animation
  • Some real dramma
  • The feels
  • Amazing characters
  • Lovely soundtrack

                  

Kokoro ga Sakebitagatterunda.         

Originally posted by kwmikos

As a HUGE  fan of Anohana and toradora  there’s no need to say hoe thrilled I was when This anime movie was annunced. Having Masayoshi takana and okada mari working together once again gave me big expetations. No need to say it was worth waiting.

Okada’s character once again made me love them with all my heart. Jun is literally once of the most human characters I’ve seen in anime and I love it so much. I could relate so much to her “being to talktive problem”. Her problem is so real that actually hearts. Loved it.

Synopsis

Jun is a girl whose words have been sealed away. She was once a very happy girl, but because of a certain thing she said when she was very young, her family was torn apart. One day, the egg fairy appeared in front of her and sealed away her ability to talk in order to stop her from hurting anybody else. Since this traumatic experience, Jun lives in the shadows away from the limelight. But, one day, she is nominated to become an executive member of the “community outreach council.” On top of that, Jun is also appointed to play the main lead in their musical…

(Source: Official website)

Whatch this anime if you’re looking for:

  • Great characters
  • Real life problems and issues
  • AMAZING ART. Masayoshi lives up to his name after all
  • Great soundtrack and inserted songs
  • Breathtaking animation by  A-1 Pictures my fave studio yass

Originally posted by iyashikei


Hotaru no Haka 

No need to say I’m not going to trust anymore any anime with fireflies on the title

Originally posted by caravelasemfreio

This has to be the most heartbreaking and cruel anime I’ve ever seen and yet only a few seems to know it’s existence.  Probably one of the best masterpiece made by ghibli.

This anime movie is so pure in many ways and all the praise il could recieve would be never sufficient to show how beatiful it is. It’s the proof that a masterpiece survives time. Even after 29 years this movie is out it sill remains a gem among anime.

Whatch this anime if you’re looking for:

  •   A great psychological drama impact, very well developed
  • The best sibiling love
  •   Real catastrophes, the provoked damages, the victims and the ruined lives of the remained people
  • Human nature, or rather how the society works, are painted beautifully

((thank you to guest writer @hurricanesunny !!!))

Michael backspaces on the seventh text he’s typed out since getting here twenty minutes ago. That, of course, doesn’t include the panicked phone call in the parking lot that he ended on the second ring or the three blurry Snaps of the sidewalk that he deleted, but who’s really counting?

Keep reading

4

YOI Future!Verse ABO AU, Visual Headcanon Web Charts #01

So I always wanted to make one of these. Turns out my headcanons for the most part are WAY too wordy for these things and uh, they’re a bit of a mess >.>;; BUT I hope nonetheless that they’re somewhat fun to read even if barely legible, it was fun to make ^ ^;

1. Super basic relationship chart of the core members of the lovely poly family in this AU.

2. “Adults Think,” the color of each adult indicates their feelings towards the person to whom the arrow is pointing.

3. “Kids Think,” the color of each OC kid indicates their feelings towards the person to whom the arrow is pointing.

There’s obviously a lot more to it than what could be crammed in the lil text boxes, but a gist and pretty much the first things that immediately popped into my mind regarding their interactions. 2 and 3 also mostly show their thoughts while the kids are younger, which will change a bit as they grow up, to be covered in a future post.

*Recommended you right click view image to see full size bc the text is tiny oops

Because the text is so illegible, text only versions of charts 2 and 3 beneath cut, all elaborated quite a bit because I’m so rambly oops:

~~

IF YOU ARE NEW TO THIS AU: It’s Yuuri-centric polyamory in an ABO setting, Yuuri’s married to four mates (Victor, Yurio, Phichit, Minami) and they have OC kids.

BASICS of this AU

INTRO to how ABO works in this AU

OTHER POSTS (comics + illustrations) in the Future!Verse ABO section of my YOI Masterpost.

~~

Please keep ship bashing out of the comments/tags. Don’t like, just skip <3 Thank you.

~~

PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, EDIT, OR OTHERWISE USE MY ART WITHOUT MY EXPLICIT PERMISSION. More detailed rules available on my Rules & FAQ Post.

~~

Keep reading

On Camera

Or that one time Lance decided to live-stream when he really should’ve been resting. The (established) klance YouTuber AU that no one asked for, but you’re all getting. Domestic klance sharing an apartment is my jam, and throwing a little angst in there is a bonus.

I’m actually really happy with this, and if people like it I might do an actual long AU thing with this setting, so feedback is appreciated! For now though, just a one-shot. This is also proof that the best writing for me happens at 3 AM… oops. I hope you enjoy!!

Psst @taylor-tut this is that thing I not-so-discreetly mentioned in my tags, have a wonderful day.


Lance McClain was a rulebreaker in every way, except for one thing. He believed it was always necessary to have a routine, and never stray from it. If asked, he’d inform you that a steady routine was the foundation for a steady life.

Showering every morning, brushing his teeth every night, thinking of a cheesy one-liner for Keith each day without fail, the list went on. Little things.

One of his many routines was to live-stream, always on Sundays. Because who did anything besides sit at home, definitely not with a hangover, on Sunday?

New videos went up on Wednesdays, but the carefully edited ones on YouTube and his live-streams were very different. Many fans even preferred seeing him live, mainly because he couldn’t stop himself from making bad jokes, and was usually too lazy to straighten his bedhead.

And they would always ask him to go bother Keith in the next room, which Lance more often than not was obliged to do.

So when he woke up late one Sunday with a killer headache and a stuffy nose, Lance wasn’t about to let it get in the way of his routine.

He discovered a note from Keith on the kitchen table that said he’d be out running errands, and Lance lamented that he hadn’t been awake to tell Keith to get soup. After shooting him a quick text, the only response Lance got was “You don’t even like soup.”

Lance chuckled softly, which quickly led to a series of wet coughs. Clearing his throat, he began to set up his camera, wrapped himself up in blankets, and started the stream.

“Hey guys,” he said with a small wave, and winced at how raspy his voice sounded. He sniffled, and edged the off-screen box of tissues closer to him.

The chat was quickly flooded with “HELLO”’s and “LANCE!”’s. By now, all the fans knew when he went live. Lance was, however, surprised to see several inquiries about his health.

There were quite a few “Are you okay”’s, and even some “You seem sick”’s, with one of Lance’s personal favorites being “You look like shit.”

He read off the last comment with a short laugh. “Thanks, KeiththeKutie05.” Then, as an afterthought, he added, “Nice name.”

After a short pause of him continuing to scan the chat, he spoke again. “I’m fine though, just got a cold or something. Nothing could stop me from live-streaming!”

As the viewers seemed satisfied with this response, Lance wasn’t surprised to see the usual repetition of “Where’s Keith?” in the chat. He sighed.

“Mullet Boy is running errands,” Lance told them, rolling his eyes for effect. “Probably going out to buy a new pair of fingerless gloves.”

Keith and Lance had been sharing an apartment for some time now, and the Internet was very invested in their relationship, or so it seemed. Keith was annoyed by the whole thing at first, but Lance found it entertaining that his fans seemed to like Keith better than him. Lance could, admittedly, relate.

Eventually, the accidental publicity that came with dating a YouTuber inspired Lance to make a collab channel for them, though Keith never got his own. He insisted that he was too awkward to film anything by himself, which Lance secretly found adorable.

Numerous people began telling Lance to prank Keith when he came back, to which Lance grinned. Playing tricks on Keith during live-streams had become somewhat of a tradition in and of itself. “Maybe I will,” Lance tapped his chin thoughtfully. “You guys got any ideas?”

Lance read through some of the responses but saw nothing particularly appealing, then perked up at someone asking when he’d do a video with Hunk again.

“Actually, I got some good news for you guys,” Lance declared, sneezing into his elbow before continuing. “Hunk and I are going to be playing videogames on Pidge’s channel sometime next week, and Hunk has both of us coming over to his and Shay’s for a baking video. I haven’t decided what we should do for my part yet. Maybe a Q & A?”

Once again, Lance’s eyes scanned through the suggestions until his eyes snagged on one he liked. “Cards Against Humanity, huh? With YouTube’s shitty new rules it could get demonetized, but I do love that game, so why not? I’m positive Pidge owns it, and I can tell them to bring it over. Maybe I can even convince Keith to play with us.”

Lance couldn’t help but smile at the enthusiastic response that got.

“I think I’m going to get myself some more coffee,” Lance decided, looking down at the empty mug resting on a coaster. “Last night Keith made me watch this really scary movie, so I naturally had trouble falling asleep. Gotta have coffee to keep myself functioning. Do you guys prefer coffee or tea? Keith and I are both coffee people, but he likes his black. No sugar or anything, disgusting if you ask me.”

Lance almost regretted this comment as a war of opinions on black coffee slowly took over his computer screen.

“Well, anyway, I’m gonna go to the kitchen real quick. I’d bring my laptop but… I’d probably spill coffee on it, and we can’t have that.”

Lance stood, and was about to start towards the next room when his vision abruptly blurred and refocused. He knew immediately something was wrong.

His legs felt like jelly, and the room seemed to spin as he took a single step forward. Had he only been fine when he was sitting? Lance had half the mind to sit right back down, but his brain was growing muddled, and direction simply didn’t make sense.

Lance’s migraine flared abruptly in intensity, and then suddenly the wood floor was rushing up to meet him. Everything went dark.


Keith glanced at his phone as he moved around to the back of the car, where he’d stored the groceries, and had to repress a fond smile at the Twitter notification on the screen. Lance was, apparently, live-streaming. Keith thought he might actually miss his time-slot for once, but he figured by now he should be used to the Cuban boy’s dedication to routine.

Lance’s channel got some negative feedback from more ‘sophisticated’ YouTubers for being… all over the place. A dedicated beauty guru, or PrinceLotor as his channel was called, had dragged Lance on Twitter on more than one occasion.

Lance was anything but consistent when it came to videos. He did whatever he felt like doing that week, and the fans loved it. Sometimes he played songs on his guitar, sometimes he did prank-calls. He would film Q&A’s, or tell stories about all the interesting stuff that happened in his life— Lance’s bad luck was rather famous. He recommended TV shows, did hauls of what he got for holidays, vlogged on occasion when he went to stores, you name it.

But Lance’s favorite thing to do were collabs.

Hunk, an incredibly smart engineer, had a baking channel as a hobby, and Lance was his favorite assistant.

Pidge was a newer gaming channel, but their obsession with theorizing about the game’s lore while playing and busting other fan theories made them grow in popularity quickly. For two player games, Lance was ideal.

Allura was an extremely popular beauty channel, and Lance let her give him makeovers whenever she wanted to. Shiro could use extra actors in his short films.

And Keith… well, the two of them had a channel together that had no pattern whatsoever, much to Lance’s dislike. Absolutely spontaneous and random, usually doing things by popular fan request, like dancing or karaoke. And uploads were by no means regular.

Keith was surprised at how much he had started to enjoy it. Lance had been telling him he should start an art channel, with animations and speedpaints and the like, and Keith wasn’t… that opposed to the idea. It could be a useful source of income, to help with all the debt he would come into after graduating college. But he’d never tell Lance.

Without thinking too much of it, Keith swiped right across his screen, taking him to Lance’s tweet about the live-stream in order to like it. He was about to close his phone again and begin taking groceries up to their apartment when his eyes snagged on something odd.

Lots of the replies to Lance’s tweet mentioned him, particularly the recent ones, even tagging him in it. Keith couldn’t fathom why they would be talking about him if he wasn’t on the stream, unless Lance was complaining about him live again.

Keith bristled. Lance better not be still annoyed at him for the movie the last night. Signs wasn’t scary at all, and not even a real horror movie! Lance simply stated that ‘he didn’t mess with aliens.’

But when he looked at all the mentions, Keith felt his irritation give way to confusion, and then panic.

“KEITH GET TO UR APARTMENT”, “YOU BETTER GO CHECK ON LANCE”, “HOLY SHIT HES COLLAPSED KEITH HURRY YA ASS UP”, and the one that really sent Keith reeling “UH GUYS IS IT JUST ME OR DID WE WITNESS LANCE’S DEATH ON CAMERA?”

Keith slammed the trunk, all groceries forgotten as he sprinted into the apartment building and ran for the stairs. They only lived on the third floor, and he was not about to wait for the slow, crowded elevator.

He fumbled to fit his key in the lock and opened the door to the living room, only to spot the live-streaming set up, with no Lance. Keith rushed forward, but drew up short when he realized that Lance was in fact passed out on the floor in front of the couch.

“Oh my god— Lance!” Keith sank down beside him, turning his boyfriend over. “Lance, are you okay? Can you hear me?”

Lance’s eyes opened slowly, and Keith felt relief flood his system, despite the uncharacteristically pale skin. “K-Keith? Wha… I thought you were shopping?”

“I’m back,” Keith answered shortly, wincing as he pressed a hand onto Lance’s forehead. “Jeez, you’re on fire. Why didn’t you tell me you were this sick?!”

“Are you a fire?” Lance mumbled under his breath, and Keith furrowed his brows in confusion.

“What? No, Lance, I was saying you have a fever.”

“Because you’re hot and I want s'more,” Lance continued, as if he hadn’t heard him at all. Keith was suddenly painfully aware that the live-stream was still going, and that his face was even more flushed than Lance’s, and not because of a fever.

Keith glanced at the computer sitting on the coffee table briefly, noting that most of the chat was full of random keyboard smashing. He smiled apologetically. “At least he’s conscious,” he shrugged, hoisting Lance up off the floor and propping one of his arm’s around Keith’s shoulder. “I’m going to take this idiot to the hospital, he’s way too hot.”

“So you finally admitted it,” Lance’s voice was barely audible, and Keith glanced back down to see him grinning up at Keith tiredly.

“I meant your temperature, dumbass. Next time, tell me when you’re not feeling well.”

And with that, he shut off the stream.