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impalas-r-important · 3 years

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Love of my Life - (8) Decapitation is usually a cure-all

Summary: Sam, Dean and Y/N travel to Idaho to help out a friend.

Warnings: Show level violence.

A/N: I'm trying my hardest to get the chapters I already have written published quickly. I have a final coming up that I'll have to take a few days to study for before I can get back to this story.

Series Masterlist

You were the first to wake in the morning, probably because you slept on a couch made of bricks. You stood up and stretched your sore back, looking over at the boys sleeping soundly and feeling a pang of jealousy at their comfort. Grabbing your bag, you quietly went into the bathroom and closed the door then started up the shower. By the time you were cleaned up and ready, the boys were awake and shoving clothes into their bags.

“Mornin’ sunshine.” Dean beamed at you.

“Hey yourself. You guys ready to go?”

“Almost.” Sam grumbled and rubbed his hands over his face. “I dibs the bathroom next.” He grabbed a small black toiletry bag and yawned as he shut the door behind him.

Dean was wearing a dark green henley and you couldn’t help but stare at the man as his muscles bugled through the thin fabric while he packed his things.

Don’t fall for Dean Winchester, you idiot!

“So, who’s the hunter we’re helping out? Maybe I know him.” Dean looked over to you and zipped up his bag, tossing it by the door.

“You know Mitch Miller?” You neatly folded your pajamas and placed them in your duffel.

Dean thought for a moment before answering. “The name sounds kind of familiar, but I can’t place him. Maybe I’ll remember him once I see him. Any details on what’s going on?” He walked over and sat on the couch where you were packing.

“Nothing so far, he just said he couldn’t figure out what he was dealing with and would fill me in on the rest when we got there.” You could feel Dean’s eyes on you and met his gaze, feeling your stomach flutter when he smiled softly at you. As you finished gathering your things and pulled your bag over your shoulder, you felt a tug that jerked you backwards. Dean had pulled your bag from your grasp, leaving you dangerously close to him.

“Why don’t you let me take your bag to the car?” Dean insisted, just inches away from you.

“You don’t need to.”

“I want to.” He spoke gently as his eyes traced your lips then looked up to meet your gaze. Were you really about to do something as stupid as kissing the man that people had warned you about? Both of you stood silent for a moment before Dean slowly leaned down, almost touching his lips to yours before the bathroom door slammed open and pulled you two apart.

“Let’s get out of here, there were four spiders in the shower.” Sam complained as he shook his hair dry and tossed his bag by the door with Dean’s. “You riding with us or driving, Y/N?”

“Driving, I guess.” You looked at Dean with a longing glance which he returned. Maybe it was for the best that you don’t explore that avenue of a relationship with this well-known womanizer, but all you could think about was kissing him.

The drive was short, and you made good time following Dean in the impala. The man had a lead foot. Mitch had asked you to meet him at his motel room, and you pulled into the parking lot in the early afternoon.

“So, some guy wants you to meet him at his motel room, and that doesn’t sound sketchy to you?” Dean questioned as you stepped out of your car.

“Oh, no, I’m actually meeting my bookie here. You guys want to wait in the car for like five minutes?” You rolled your eyes. The frown on Dean’s face was quickly followed by an amused smirk. He appreciated when a girl was fluent in sarcasm.

“You know what I mean. I don’t trust this guy yet.”

“Do you trust me?”

Dean seemed surprised by your question but was quick to answer. “Yes.”

“Then come on.” You nodded towards the motel and Dean followed, draping his arm around your shoulder.

The two of you followed Sam to room seventeen and knocked. Mitch answered with a smile. “Y/N!” He looked at the two brothers standing behind you and his smile turned into a questioning frown.

“Hey, Mitch. Do you know Sam and Dean Winchester?” You pointed to the boys.

“I’ve heard of them. Never met before though.” Mitch hesitated for a moment as he saw Dean’s hand placed protectively on your shoulder. “Come on in.” He stepped aside and you entered first, followed closely by Dean and then Sam.

“So, what do you have?” You asked as you looked at the newspaper clippings and maps that were hung on the wall.

“Three women dead. Each of them drowned in their sleep, nowhere near any kind of water.”

“What the hell?” Sam muttered as he read through a case file.

“Witch?” You and Dean say at the same time, exchanging a proud glance.

“I didn’t find any kind of hex bags.” Mitch countered.

“Not all witches use hex bags.” Dean argued, glaring at Mitch. You couldn’t help but notice the crusty looks exchanged between the two.

“Get this,” Sam spread some pictures out on the bed, “all the victims have the same pictures in their house.” He pointed out identical pictures in the background of each crime scene, just hidden enough that the average eye wouldn’t find it.

“Good catch. Let’s figure out who that is and go from there.” You suggested and the three boys nodded.

“I’ll hit the internet.” Sam declared as he sat down at the desk and pulled out his laptop.

“We’ll go back to the crime scenes one more time. See if we can get a closer look at those pictures?” Dean suggested. Mitch nodded and they headed for the door. Dean paused when he saw you hesitate. “You coming, Y/N?”

“Nah, I’ll stay behind and help Sam. We don’t need three of us looking at a picture.” Dean sent a betrayed look your way when he realized he would be partnered up with Mitch. You sent a snarky smirk back his way. Mitch huffed as he opened the door and stomped out.

“Play nice.” You instructed Dean with a wink.

“You owe me one!” He pointed in your direction sternly, but the light in his eyes told you he was just playing around.

You pulled out your laptop and sat across from Sam.

“You know, you could have gone with Dean.” Sam looked up from his screen.

“I know, but what do you think Dean would have hated more? Staying behind and helping you with research or going out alone with Mitch? Those two have some kind of seriously misplaced testosterone battle going on.”

Sam chuckled and answered with confidence, “Definitely going with Mitch.”

“That’s what I thought! He was getting too comfortable around me anyway. I gotta keep him on his toes somehow.” You shrugged and sent a playful grin Sam’s way. He gave you an approving nod, knowing full well that he had found an ally to mess with Dean when the opportunity presented itself.

An hour had gone by when you found something that sparked your interest.

“Sam, check this out.” He leaned back in his chair, listening intently as you read. “Known throughout Africa and the African Atlantic, Mami Wata embodies the spirit of water. Much like the ocean, she can be volatile and dangerous. She brings good financial fortune and also governs water sprites.” You scrolled down the page and stopped on a picture that looked identical to the ones from the crime scenes. You spun your computer around to show Sam.

“Good work, Y/N. That’s gotta be record time. Sounds like it could be our mystery monster. I’ll call Dean and let him know.”

You pulled out your phone and called Bobby for any info he might have on how to kill the thing. He told you he’d do some looking. You and Sam continued your research for a few more hours when the grumble of his stomach interrupted your reading.

“Come on,” you shut your computer, “let’s go find some food. We can take our stuff with us and keep looking but I have to get out of this creepy motel room.” You looked around, referring to the wallpaper that you were sure had been in at least a few horror movies.

“Agreed. I’m starving.”

There was a cute mom and pop restaurant down the street from the motel where you and Sam decided to set up shop. You sent Dean a quick text letting him know to meet you there when they were done. You ordered drinks and some appetizers to hold you over until the other two joined you. You were flipping through a book about African culture that you checked out of the library and Sam was still online, both of you searching for a way to kill this water spirit.

“Hey, Y/N,” Sam began, “I just wanna say thanks.” You shot him a confused look. “We’ve have had a rough time lately between Dad dying and Dean going to hell and coming back. It’s really taken a toll on him, but he’s been different since we met you. The past few days, he’s the almost fun Dean that he used to be.” He shut his computer and sat it on the bench next to him. “I know you’ve probably heard stories about him being a lady’s man and normally I’d be telling girls to run for the hills, but he’s smitten with you. I can see it in the way he looks at you and talks about you.” The waitress brought the drinks and onion rings over and Sam paused.

“Sam Winchester, are you being a wing man for your brother?” You joked as you took a bite.

“I guess I am. Which I never thought I would ever do.” Sam raised his eyebrows in surprise. “But I mean it when I say that he’s different with you. It might take him a little while to admit it, but he’s a better person when you’re around.” Sam took a big drink before adding, “Plus, I think he’s a little scared of you, so I doubt he’d try any kind of funny business.”

You couldn’t help but smile at Sam’s honesty. You should be focused on the case but your mind was on Dean. It was rare that you ever felt so at ease with someone so quickly. Although you had never known what a true home felt like, you imagined the comfort that you felt with him was as close as you’d ever get.

You spent the next while talking with Sam about himself and how he had tried a different path at Stanford. You were genuinely intrigued to know about college. Maybe in a different life you would have gone, and you soaked up every word he told you about a life so foreign to yours. Dean and Mitch arrived soon after. Dean was clearly annoyed and walked a few paces ahead as Mitch babbled on about something. Dean plopped down next to you and put his arm on the back of the booth. You instinctively scooted closer to him.

“How’d it go, boys?” You asked and slid the basket of onion rings closer to them. It was obvious the two hadn’t cleared any of the ridiculous tension between them. Neither answered and Mitch glared at Dean who had a mouthful and was looking out the window.

“I’m going to the bathroom.” Mitch grumbled.

You waited until he was out of sight, then you and Sam both turned to Dean with judgmental faces. He slowly caught on and looked between the two of you, midchew.

“What?” Dean tried to play innocent.

“Why is Mitch so pissed?” Sam interrogated.

“Because he’s a baby? Why the hell would I know?” Dean answered straight. Sam rolled his eyes.

“Well, did you find anything at the crime scenes?” You looked up into his eyes, realizing you missed him more than you should have for him being gone just a few hours. Dean pulled out a coin with a water serpent on it and set it down on the table.

“Found these behind each picture on the wall along with a photograph of the victims.”

“Great, so we know who this thing is after next?” You were happy to catch a break seeing as there was only one person left in the photo who hadn’t been killed. “Maybe we set a trap?”

“We gotta move fast though. Someone has died every night and it’s almost six already.” Sam added.

“We still don’t know why she’s here, either.” Dean interjected as he finished off the appetizers. “Let’s order. I can’t hunt on an empty stomach.” He grabbed the menu and waived the waiter over.

That night, the team had gone over to the next victim’s house on the list. She was clearly scared and easily believed you when you told her what was happening. She explained that she and the other four victims were in water aerobics together and had read online that if you summon her with those weird coins and enslave this Mami Wata, that she would make you rich. So, they did. Idiots. But soon after, the water spirit became angry at being held captive and turned on them. Lucky for you, Bobby came in clutch and had found that stabbing it in the heart with a blade forged with African ore would kill it. Unluckily for you, you had nothing like that and no chance of finding something like it this late at night. So, you would have to try and make do. It was a stupid plan, but the only one you had.

You instructed the woman to lay on her bed like she was going to sleep, while you, Sam, Dean and Mitch hid, waiting for her to show up. You had an arrangement of weapons, hoping something would work. Hours passed, and it was getting late. You felt your eyelids began to droop, but a sudden clang from the bathroom woke you right up. You were in the closet and peaked though the crack to see water overflowing from the tub and into the bedroom, soaking the carpet. You waited a few moments more to see a horrific serpent woman crawling from the bathroom, slowly slithering her way towards her next victim, leaving a trail of slime in her path. You couldn't help but subconsciously pull a disgusted face.

Mitch was the first to jump out from his hiding place just outside the door. Mami Wata quickly tuned her head and held her arm out, throwing him across the room, his body going limp as he surely was knocked unconscious. Sam and Dean were next. Dean shot at the monster while Sam stabbed her with a silver blade. Both taking a toll, but neither doing much damage to her. She stood up tall on her tail and threw Dean up against the wall, holding him by his neck. You sprang into action, using a long blade to chop her head off. Her body stayed writing for a few moments, but eventually stopped.

Dean rubbed his neck and caught his breath. “How’d you know that would work?”

You gave an innocent shrug. “I didn’t. Decapitation is usually a cure all.”

“We should burn the body just to be safe, Sam added.” You and Dean nodded in agreement.

You pulled Mitch from his unconscious state and after the woman you had saved thanked you profusely, you left with the body in your trunk, finding a remote location to burn it. It was almost eight in the morning by the time you were finished and were pulling into town, heading back to the motel. You went and got a room for you, Sam and Dean and all four of you went to go sleep off the post-hunt exhaustion.

Sam was the first to pass out. He hadn’t gotten very dirty and was sprawled out diagonally, face down across the mattress. You and Dean both had blood stains and slime on your clothes. He let you use the shower first, then took a quick one when you were done. You pulled on a comfortable t-shirt and some shorts, then began to set up your bed on the couch. Dean grabbed your hand and stopped you from laying a blanket down.

“Nope, you need to actually sleep. Come on.” He pulled the blanket from the couch, wrapped it around you and led you over to the bed. “You can share with me.”

“Are you asking me to sleep with you?” You asked in an accusing tone of voice and kept a serious face before slowly letting it turn to a small laugh. Dean turned bright red and swallowed hard. It was fun to mess with him. You laid next to him and he pulled you close.

“Thanks for saving me. Again.” Dean whispered in your ear. You turned to face him.

“I’m not going to let some creepy ass mermaid kill you. That’s not a very ‘blaze-of-glory’ way to go out.”

“What makes you think that’s how I want to go out?”

“Sam told me when we were talking earlier.”

Dean smiled and kissed you on the forehead. “Get some sleep, Y/N/N.”

Little did you know, Dean wasn’t planning on going out in a blaze of glory at all anymore. He was planning on retiring with you by his side, holding you close just like he was now. You drifted off to sleep to the sound of Dean’s steady breathing. For the first time since you could remember, you slept peacefully without waking up in a cold sweat from nightmares. You knew you had someone there to protect you. Someone who you fully trusted, and someone who made you feel like you belonged.

Chapter 9

Tags:

@panicking-outside-the-disco

@vicmc624

#dean winchester #dean x you #dean x reader #dean x y/n #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fanfiction #supernatural #spn #spn fic #destiel

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blueflamebird · 4 years

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Dating Jason Todd includes:

Lots of pop culture references

like....alot

Im not even kidding every word out of this kids mouth is a reference to something

bonus points if you reference stuff back to him

And sarcastic comments

Lots of them

He gets his sarcasm from alfred so get ready for some burns

More bonus points if you’re sarcastic back to him

Lots of playful and sarcastic flirting

Getting along with him is easy- hes an asshole but he cares so much

funny enough, this is the reason why getting him to open up is difficult

The boy has been hurt too much to just let people in

He unconsciously holds them at arms length

He’ll show he cares in little ways

From remembering your favorite coffee or snack to getting you sweet and thoughtful gifts for special occasions

please dont mind the blood he fought a crime lord on the way here

Being patient with him is a must, as much as he loves you, he’s always trying to keep his guard up, he has to, he doesn’t want to get hurt again

he’s prone to doing stupid stuff and saying stupid things, but he’ll always apologize

Communication is shady at some points, but he’s trying. He’s getting better at it day by day. Some days he’s bad, but he needs time to heal, and its something he needs support in.

God does Jason show his appreciation by spoiling you. You thought this buffoon was shy? NOPE

Well...maybe at first, all that bravado was ruined by the cute blush on his cheeks

But damn does he like spoiling you and showing you off

Also, super clingy and jealous

will try to act like he isnt

but he is

Jesus jason stop glaring at the cashier he was only being friendly

but he’s insecure, plus he’s always sweet so its ok

Plus, expect lots of worrying

him for you and you for him

Especially when the joker is loose, but you let him fret because you know how it affects him

Lots of him stumbling into your house at 4am bleeding and barely conscious

You became good at first aid because of it

and lots of cuddling to make him feel better

He has days where he just remembers, what it was to be dead, tracing lines of scars that long since healed but still hurt him, staring into nothing looking completely blank, days where he’s angry at nothing, days were he feels absolutely nothing

and when he feels like this he feels like he’s dragging you down

more than once has he tried to “Set you free”

but he’s selfish in that he cant let you go, he cares about you too much

But he feels guilty for staying

So you always have to reassure him that you love him no matter what

He’s not perfect but neither are you

on your bad days he does his best to be there for you

he likes cuddles so expect lots of them

Gets such an inflated ego when you compliment him

its almost unbearable

especially all the snarky comments

but its better than the disgusted look he gives himself sometimes so you keep the comments coming

He also loves to give compliments

sometimes they will be dripped in sarcasm, sometimes they’re the sweetest thing ever

also, expect good food

the boy can cook

he’s had to learn from a young age, so he’s learned to enjoy it

And he loves books

there’s always a book lying around

jason can be alot of work sometimes

but damn is it work it when he gives you his goofy grin or tells you he loves you

#Jason Todd #headcanon #jason todd x reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x oc #jason todd x #whatever #my precious boy #i love him so much #he needs love #writing prompt

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a-simple-imagine · 5 years

Text

Always pt.2

Requested by a few nice readers: You meet up with Nat with the information she wanted but things between you become a little... tense.

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Words: 2.5k+

A/N - I don’t know how I feel about this. I liked it but then it came to posting it and now i’m not so sure.

WARNING - Mentions of Guns, knives, stabbing, strangulation, blood, swearing, alcohol and like one suggestive reference

PREV //

It hadn't taken you long to find the guy Natasha had been referring to or more so information about him. He was like a legend. Everyone knew of him but the story was embellished. You weren't sure what or who to believe. Luckily, you only wasted one bullet during your interrogation.

So many places she could have been, you find the redhead in some obscure little café. Walking straight past the hostess who insisted on trying to assign you a seat in the mostly empty establishment. You slide into the booth across from where Natasha seemed to be enjoying a panini with a side of curly fries. Reaching over you grab the edge of her plate and slide it into the middle of the table. Picking up a fry and dramatically taking a bite.

"Hey,"

"Funny. I don't remember asking you if you wanted some?" Natasha teased, head tilting as her emerald gaze settled on you. You offer her a tight-lipped smile, holding her gaze as you slowly reach for one half of her panini. You hadn't stuck around for breakfast and you were starving so it was the least she could do. But knowing Nat the way you do, you expected it wouldn't be so easy. As you grab the warm sandwich, you spy her hand rising. Weapon of choice; a fork. A small smirk takes over your lips. Your hand snaps back as the prongs of her fork slam into the table.

"Aww, someone's getting slow," you stick out your bottom lip, a sympathetic expression adorning your face before firing a wink in her direction. Sinking your teeth into the warm bread, cheese stringing as you pull it away from your lips. Natasha leans back in her seat.

"Do you have a reason for being here or are you just trying to steal my lunch?"

You shake your head, picking up the drinks menu and glancing at the options. "I told you I'd find you later."

"So you have information for me?" The redhead asks.

"Maybe," you simply shrug. She'd have to work a little for it. "Maybe not. Let's enjoy lunch first, shall we?"

"Enjoy my lunch." Natasha corrected, sitting up to grab a fry off the plate. "How about you get your own?"

"No thanks, I'm okay sharing yours." You insist, waving your hand dismissively as you continue to enjoy what you had already stolen. You drop the menu to the table. "I will have a Bloody Mary though if you're offering."

"It's like two in the afternoon and I don't think I was offering."

Your brows furrow as if it's insane she'd bring up the time of day. "So? It's called day drinking Natasha, look it up."

She rolled her eyes but did, in fact, get up and head for the bar. You wait for her return, shoving the last piece of the panini into your mouth

"Here," She popped the drink down on the table next to you before slipping back into the booth.

"Urgh," you groan extra loudly. "Thanks, babe, you're far too good to me." You take a satisfying sip.

"So," Natasha leaned forward onto her elbows. "What information have you got for me?"

"I will tell you," You lean forward too. Grabbing a fry and slowly placing it into your mouth. "If you promise not to leave as soon as I do."

"Why do you care if I stick around?" Natasha wondered. There were many ways you could answer that question but none that would essentially sum up why exactly you care. And so, instead, you just take another fry into your mouth before slumping down in your seat.

"I couldn't find out much about your guy. It all seemed like bullshit. I did shoot someone though- that was fun." You tell her, slipping out the booth to grab a paper straw. Dropping it into the glass and taking a sip.

"And?"

"And what?" You ask, confused.

"The fuck? You can't just say you shot someone and then stop talking?"

"Oh! We're still talking about that?" Natasha's expression remained relatively blank but you knew her too well. She was getting fed up and you were living for it.

"It's no big deal, he was useless. I only shot him in the thigh, he'll be fine." You explain with a soft, almost innocent smile.

"So what exactly did you find out? What was his name?"

"I don't know." You pop another fry into your mouth with a satisfied smile before putting her out of her misery. "He doesn't tell people his actual name. The most definitive thing I could get was the shark which is stupid. He sells to suppliers who then sell it to folks like me and you."

"So we get a rat to lead us to the cat."

"We?" You question. "When was I part of this mission? I have better things to do, thanks."

"Like what? Get wasted by yourself." Natasha questioned.

"Yeah. My handler won't give me any more jobs at the moment because you fucked up the last one so what else have I got to do?"

"Tell you what," Natasha starts. "Set up a meeting and I'll buy you all the alcohol you want."

"And dinner?" You add, sitting up in your seat.

"I just got you lunch," Natasha countered signaling to the near-empty plate sat between you.

"No you didn't, I just ate your lunch- well half of it and that's completely different." You fire back defensively. "You can't just show up here whenever you want and expect me to do shit for you. So dinner, all the drinks I want and dessert then I'll consider helping you."

"Dessert?"

You nod, crossing your arms over your chest. "I added another condition."

"Fine but-"

"But nothing." You interrupted sharply. "This isn't a negotiation."

"But-"

"No!"

"Y/N-"

"No." You huff. "It's either yes or no."

"Fine," she rolled her eyes. "Yes."

"Great!" You down the rest of your drink before slamming the glass against the table and siding out the booth. "I'll go set up a meeting, you go put on something pretty."

"We're doing this tonight?" She questions, watching you carefully.

"Dinner? Yes. Meet up? I don't know." You casually shrug and head for the exit.

"Don't shoot anyone this time." She calls from across the restaurant. You hold up your middle finger as you walk knowing she's probably looking but not giving her satisfaction of checking.

A few hours pass by before you see her again. It had taken some work but after talking around, you finally found someone who was willing to admit they sold enhanced weapons. They were actually a little braggy about it which was distasteful but a lot of criminals are. They're annoyingly edgy or at least try to be. You return to your apartment to shower and change into something a little less 'I stalk and kill people' but nothing too fancy. You then met Natasha downtown. The redhead walks a few steps ahead of you as you try to decide where to eat. "Stop staring at my ass,"

Your eyes snap up, a soft chuckle passing your lips. "I'm not,"

"Yeah you are," Natasha nodded, turning her head to look at you. A smirk on her lips. You speed up a little and take her hand in yours; pulling her abruptly into a nearby restaurant on the strip. You're lead to a table for two where you order some drinks and search over the menu.

"When do you go back?" You eventually ask. Wondering if her little mission had a deadline.

"When the job is done."

"So the longer I drag this out..."

"The longer I have to stay." She finishes and you smile a little. Only to have it diminish a second later. "I'll probably leave sooner though if you keep messing me around."

"I'm not doing anything of the sorts." You insist defensively. "I set the meet up for tomorrow night. I hope that's okay?"

Natasha just diverts her gaze to the waitress who finally returned with your drinks. The young woman was a pretty blonde with an assortment of freckles peppered over her skin. Your jaw tenses as she stands waiting for you to order. Natasha says hers first and then you. You watch the other woman who seems to be more interested in the waitress whose walking away than you right now. You take a large gulp of the Malibu sunset you ordered.

"I don't remember you being this much of an alcoholic." Natasha ponders. The glass lingering at your lips lowers to the table.

"Yeah... well... I don't remember you being an avenger for the US Government. People change."

"Why are you so against my job? We're doing something good."

With a humorless huff of a laugh, you can't help but roll your eyes. "You should know as well as anyone that the world isn't that black and white. You're no better off than you were before."

"I've saved the world multiple times. What have you done?" It was out of character for Nat to get so defensive.

"What I get paid to do. Just like everyone else except I don't go around acting all high and mighty."

"Because you have nothing to be proud of," Natasha growls. "I've done a lot of bad shit in the past but I'm trying to be better. I didn't want to be a monster anymore."

"Oh, so I'm a monster? Thanks." Voice dripping with sarcasm you pick up your drink just to stop yourself from talking. Natasha knows how hard it is to get out of this business. It wasn't as easy as just handing in your notice. And honestly? It was easy money. It wasn't like you we're going around killing anyone who didn't deserve it.

"I didn't say that."

"You implied it." You reply as calmly as you can. Not wanting to cause a scene right now. "I do what I have to to get through the fucking day, Natasha."

Another silence follows only this time it's more awkward. You're visibly showing off your annoyance while every time you glance at her she's just staring down. If anything she looks a little sad but perhaps that was just you wanting her to feel bad about her words.

"Shield would have you," She says quietly after a moment.

"I'm fine where I am."

The dinner proceeded quietly- too much so. You couldn't bring yourself to say anything of value. All you could think about was her new view of you and your profession. It takes a special kind of person to be able to stomach your job. It was rough and dangerous more so for others. But you had never had someone consider what you do monstrous. Admittedly you didn't have a lot of friends. You spent a lot of time traveling and forced to lay low in hotel rooms. Natasha had been someone who had saved you a long time ago which resulted in a friendship that very quickly ended up sexual. You provided each other with relief from the otherwise insane thing that was your lives. But apparently, since running off to become a superhero she had come to think of you as trash. She did, however, stick to the deal and gave you everything you had requested. When the end of the meal came, the woman invited you back to her place which was surprising considering the situation. Part of you wanted to just leave but as always you ended up in bed with her. It felt... different this time. A little rougher. A little rushed. It just wasn't what it normally was and by the end, you were both lying on opposite sides of the bed. Facing away from each other.

With tired eyes, you awake and you're alone in bed. A soft sigh leaves your lips as you stretch out your arm to where she had previously been. You push yourself into an upright position, staring out into the darkness.

"Nat?" You call out but there's no response. That's when you spy a dark figure standing in the corner of the hotel room. Your eyes narrow, trying to figure out who it was but you couldn't make out their face. "Natasha?"

Again, no answer. But the figure moves closer. You try to move but you're frozen in place. Hands envelop your neck as you stare into the darkness. Getting tighter and tighter. Your hands claw at their hands, gasping for the smallest amount of air. Your head feels like it could explode but the majority of the pain is in your throat.

"You deserve this."Is all you hear as your consciousness slipped away. Everything going, Black.

You jolt awake, your heart pounding in your chest as your hands shoot up to check your neck. Remnants of tears rest on your cheeks and your breathing is ragged. A pair of arms suddenly envelops you and in your panic, you grab a small blade from under your pillow and dig it into the arm. The grip tightens as you hear Natasha's familiar groan.

"Calm down." She whispers surprisingly softly, as her body presses up against you. "I'm here, Y/N. It's Nat."

You lay like that. Still. Natasha presses a kiss against your skin as your breathing slows. When you're calm enough, you shuffle out of Natasha's grip and go get a first aid kit. The room is cast in a picturesque glow from the moonlight and table lamp. You sit on the bed cross-legged in nothing more than a pair of panties. Natasha held her arm out and you yank the knife out. You gently hold her arm, inspecting the wound as you clean up the blood spilling down her arm.

"I'm sorry," you announce quietly. Feeling really guilty about the whole ordeal. "I didn't... mean to stab you."

"It's okay I didn't expect you to." Your gaze briefly moves to her face which wore a warm smile. "Are you okay though? You seemed to be freaking out back there."

"I..." You trail off, not wanting to share your trauma. "You just got in my head with the whole monster thing and I keep a dagger on hand in case I get like attacked or something. When you grabbed me, I panicked and I stabbed you."

"What were you dreaming about?" Natasha wonders softly. You drop your head before shrugging.

"Do you wanna go to the hospital? I've cleaned it up and I can wrap it in a bandage but I don't know if you need anything else?"

"It’s not that deep so I'll be fine. Let's just go back to bed, yeah?" she gently places her free hand on top of yours which rested on your thigh. You nod a little, grabbing the gauze and beginning to wrap it around her arm.

"Here," you offer up some pain killers and a glass of water which she takes happily. You put your equipment back in its box before placing it off to the side. Switching off the light, you lie back down in bed. Breathing heavily as you stare into the darkness. Your body tenses as you feel her arms wrap around you again, pulling you closer. After a moment, you relax into her touch as tears brim your eyes.

"I'll keep you safe," She mumbles quietly and despite your earlier attitude, you’re glad you came home with her.

"Natasha,"

"Yeah?"

You hesitate. "...Thank you,"

#natasha romanoff #black widow #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow x reader #marvel #natasha romanoff x you #black widow x you #Always #long

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homespork-review · 5 years

Text

Homespork Act 1: The Note Dawdling Tension Plays (Part 2)

BRIGHT: The next bit of narration continues to establish John’s character: he has no idea what to call the red arm on the mailbox, and doesn’t care. We also learn that much like many teenagers, he doesn’t want to spend hours with his Dad. The author uses this opportunity to drop in a reference to the title.

The next page has a loading screen! I think this is the first interactive page in the comic. (For a certain value of interactive - you can mouseover the vertical lines of the games in the CD rack, and the cover of the game will pop up. Some of these link you to other works by Hussie.)

CHEL: Unfortunately, we then go into sylladex shenanigans AGAIN. Mercifully, this time it’s brief. We’ll let this one go, but I’ve got one eye on you, Huss.

TG messages John again, making reference to “TT”, who is confirmed female and alleged to be “mackin on” TG, and to his “bro” who “basically knows everything and is awesome”. How sincere he is in either of those remains to be seen. Finally, John actually gets told how to use his sylladex. Maybe the shenanigans will stop now… Anyway, he selects hammers for his strife specibus, or his weapon of choice, and the sylladex is confirmed able to hold things which would be too big to carry normally, such as Colonel Sassacre's Daunting Text of Magical Frivolity and Practical Japery, a book roughly as big as John is. At least the stupid sylladex actually has some practical use - I’m sure John’s as happy as I am to know that!

Next we see the review which put TG off; GameBro magazine explains “Why the ‘Game of the Year’ or whatever isn’t as good as some other stuff I like that’s better”. As it turns out once you get past the Totally Radical verbiage, the reviewer didn’t even play it. Something suspect’s definitely going on if it’s so hyped up on so little information… erm, is it just me or is the term “Brotel Rwanda” rather tacky? I don’t know if that’s worth a point, the point of the joke could be that the game reviewer is an idiot…

FAILURE ARTIST: I’d have that squarely as a point.

CLOCKWORK PROBLEMATYKKS: 1

CHEL: Okay, then, here’s our fourth count. Title is a reference to a line later in the comic, and I think the point of the count is pretty obvious. Mileage may vary, all works would get at least a couple points in this, and I don’t think it’s a big problem unless/until it starts to climb out of proportion. Not gonna use a WHITE SBURB POSTMODERNISM count because the reviewer, as seen in the pic, is supposed to be a white guy.

Regarding the rest of the review, I did consider whether this falls under the heading of HNTWAN’s “I, Youngster” (using slang or references from one’s own youth to write a contemporary younger person), but I’d say no, because it’s supposed to sound ridiculous. Same with John’s movies; his taste is supposed to be bad, I don’t think Hussie actually thinks kids in 2009 still all liked bad movies from before they were born. That, and Hussie’s word choices are frankly like nothing I’ve ever seen anywhere else in any time period.

We shall move on, as so is the comic. Forty-seven pages into the comic, the main character finally leaves his bedroom. Wow. Things are happening at breakneck speed here.

TIER: Truly the pace strides forward like a Colossus through Lilliput.

GET ON WITH IT!: 2

CHEL: Though the silly Groucho Marx disguise he puts on is cute.

BRIGHT: Of course, since it would be interesting to see what’s in the mailbox (or at least would move the plot along a bit), John spends the next few pages examining his home.

I’m torn about this. On the one hand, it does a bit more fleshing out of John and his home life, which is more interesting than endless sylladex shenanigans, and the narration is entertaining. On the other hand, I’m pretty sure that on my first read through I clicked through all of it, trying to get to something happening. It holds up better on the re-read to me.

Well, something does happen, John knocks over the urn containing his grandmother’s ashes and opens a box from his father which holds a full-sized harlequin doll. Again, how much this appeals depends on what you think of ‘loveable dork’ characters fumbling around.

Then we return briefly to John’s bedroom, where we meet the third character of this webcomic, tentacleTherapist, or the alluded-to TT. The conversation isn’t very long, but it does give a good sense of what TT is like.

CHEL: Specifically, prone to sarcasm and sesquipedalian loquaciousness. Also to inappropriate jokes. An invocation of the hentai trope "tentacle rape" (read her handle quickly) is a fairly uncomfortable username for a child to have.

CLOCKWORK PROBLEMATYKKS: 2

Anyway, it seems she knows John very well - she’s able to guess he’s wearing “one of your disguises” with no clue in his messages, so evidently he does this a lot. She’s probably the smartest character introduced so far, and she and John seem to have a good relationship.

Now, again, this was originally a reader-driven forum game, but when it was collated into a webcomic, it might have been better to have the conversation with TT moved to before John left the room, so we’re not going back and forth unnecessarily. One journey through the house is enough, I’d say. Another GET ON WITH IT point, or does this come under the heading of the second point still? I’ll be nice and not count it, since he was going back to fetch an item and not just randomly wandering.

We definitely get more points from the text in Colonel Sassacre’s joke book:

And what of that tawny gent who puts his lackadaisical lean near the sarsaparilla font? You’ll have that listless octoroon find the spring in his step just yet! CLOCKWORK PROBLEMATYKKS: 3 WHITE SBURB POSTMODERNISM: 2

The point of these lines is that the text is outdated and racist, not that it should be emulated, but the “outdated” point was more than got across by the language used already. And it would seem fairly weird for a person who wasn’t white to read a line like that and not comment on it - okay, maybe John’s read it before and is used to it, but the narrator ought to point that out if it had ever bothered him.

FAILURE ARTIST: Colonel Sassacre is basically Mark Twain with a party hat photoshopped on to him. Mark Twain’s most famous work, The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, has gotten into trouble in recent years because of the name of one of the characters: [N-word] Jim. The novel is progressive for its time but it hasn’t aged well. I’m guessing Colonel Sassacre’s unnecessary racism is a nod to that controversy.

CHEL: Get used to Photoshopped depictions of real people, too.

BRIGHT: John ventures out into the house again, ostensibly to retrieve the game but really to stick his fake arms to the harlequin doll and nose around his father’s study. Should the comment about the peanut allergy count towards ARE YOU TRYING TO BE FUNNY? In context with the can of peanuts I think there’s meant to be a joke here…

There is also a CAN OF PEANUTS on the desk. Ha ha, oh DAD. You won't be falling for THAT one again any time soon. A severe peanut allergy is a terrible affliction to cope with.

CHEL: That line? Yeah, it's a reference to the snake nut can prank item - have you seen those on cartoons, where someone offers canned snacks and a spring-loaded toy snake pops out? A dark joke, sure, but my sense of humour tends to run that way and I loled. CLOCKWORK PROBLEMATYKKS instead, possibly? I don’t know if people with life-threatening allergies would be offended by this - the joke isn’t that they’re weak or stupid or anything, the joke is the play on the reader’s expectations. I wouldn’t mind it if I had a peanut allergy, but as I said, my sense of humour is pretty dark.

FAILURE ARTIST: I feel like if a certain other parent we meet later did that people would take it as abusive.

CHEL: My assumption was that John’s dad didn’t actually mean to give him food that would kill him, that was just an unfortunate way of finding out he was allergic, but in this comic, who the fuck knows?... Come to think of it, maybe he did mean to. Peanut allergies run in families and it’s established much later on that one of the relatives involved (it gets complicated) also has a deadly peanut allergy, so it would seem logical that Dad would also have one and thus wouldn’t have them around to eat himself. Even if he did, that’s a bad move with an allergic person in the house. Maybe it is worth an ARE YOU TRYING point, then? Maybe this is just overanalysing, but then overanalysing is the whole point of this exercise, so there it goes!

ARE YOU TRYING TO BE FUNNY?: 1

For clarification of the listed counts, this isn’t going under CALL CPA PLEASE because that one’s for when the kids do something disturbing themselves. We’ll show you what we mean when it comes up. We'll be nice and let Rose have an inappropriate username, that's not out of the ordinary for kids that age.

And speaking of said points, what about Dad giving John at least four birthday cakes? (He has two untouched ones in his room at the point he says he’s been eating cake all day, and Dad soon tries to give him yet another one.) That sounds cool from a thirteen-year-old’s point of view, but it kinda comes across as if Dad’s trying to feed him to death, and intentionally making kids horribly unhealthy can be a form of abuse. Or possibly to make up for something awful he knows about… Is the latter further evidence for the “guardians know about what’s coming” theory? Dad’s coddling John because he knows horrible things are going to happen? Hell, were the peanuts an attempted mercy kill, if we wanna get really tinfoil hat about it?

All that’s for later, though. Meantime, we get our first page with sound, as John plays “Showtime”, a nifty little piano tune.

"Homestuck // Showtime (Piano Refrain) // Piano" (Watch on YouTube)

The other kids get their own individual little musical parts too, later on, which merge to form one full piece.

FAILURE ARTIST: Music is a big draw in Homestuck. Not just these four main characters but pretty much every character has their own leitmotif.

#homestuck #homespork #let's read #review #reread #sporking #literary critique #homestuck meta

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thelamppoststation · 5 years

Text

Future’s Past by TheLampPost

In 2008, a year after James managed to get off that godforsaken rock, he receives a visit from a young woman with blue eyes and blonde hair. She hands him a locket and a letter, then demands answers to questions that he didn’t even know existed. Post season 6 (Suliet) - This story is also partly set during the DHARMA days.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter 2: The Plan

DHARMA Initiative: Sonar Fence, July 1975

She started across the field at a brisk pace, but by the time she got to the path beyond the bushes she'd broken into a run. A sudden wave of nausea twisted her insides into knots, and she couldn't help but wonder if it was due to her newly discovered condition or genuine nerves. This could not be happening. Not to her. Not after all she'd done to prevent exactly this type of scenario from coming to pass. Hell if she'd ever deliver a baby on this island again. Hell if it ever be her own.

When the pylons sprung into view, she stopped. The giant misshapen percussion bells on concrete sticks of terror stood tall and proud across the field in all of their youthful glory, not quite made for musical bliss, but blissfully fulfilling a purpose that kept people as arrested as would a theatre filled audience. Different purpose, same effect.

She crouched down, and flipped the lid on the data pad. Funny how the code was always the same, no matter what decade: 1623.

"What do you think you're doing?"

She whirled around. What the–?

"Miles!"

Where in the hell had he come from? He looked straight at her, narrowed eyes darkening the core of his black pupils, he looked almost threatening, and a familiar tightness settled in her chest, spread all the way down to her spine and back up her arms. She hadn't been on the receiving end of this much blatant mistrust in a long time.

"You scared me," she said, and smiled.

"Where are you going, Juliet?" he wasted no time.

She shrugged, hoping for it to come across as casual.

"I thought I saw something on the security monitors, figured I'd check it out. You know how Horace gets if we sound the alarm prematurely."

"Does LaFleur know you're out here?"

"Of course James knows."

Miles narrowed his eyes even further, causing for his already impossibly narrow slits to turn into even sharper ones; it almost reminded her of dark light peeping through the cracks of a badly insulated shed. He wasn't buying it. Damn him for tempting her into playing so much late night Poker. Miles was good at deception, but he was even better at recognising it. He'd been able to figure out all of her tells straight off the bat, and now she didn't have many, if any, left.

"Why are you lying to me?"

"What are you talking about?"

"I saw you," he took a step closer, and she had to suppress the urge to take a step back. "You were nowhere near the observation deck. I only followed you out here because I saw you flail out of the infirmary like a possessed madwoman. What's going on?"

She bit her lip.

"Look Miles, even if I told you; you wouldn't understand."

"Well," Miles crossed his arms in front of his chest. "Let's see what LaFleur'll have to say about that then."

He reached for his walkie, but before he could so much as pull the device from his pocket she'd already launched herself at him, pinning him to the ground with two hands above his head.

"What the actual fuck, Juliet!" he trashed against her, but she had a good grip on him, her weight pressing down hard on his lower abdomen. Maybe, if he had been a little heavier, or more muscular like James, he would have been able to break free, but Miles was about as scrawny as a malnourished field mouse.

"Get off me!"

"You don't want to do this, Miles!"

She gave him a hard look.

"They'll have seen you on the monitors by now anyway," he said. "I wouldn't be surprised if LaFleur is already on his way!"

She tightened her grip on his wrists.

"It would take them at least five more minutes to get here," she said. "Look, Miles, you're my friend and I really, really do not want to hurt you, but if you don't let this go, you'll leave me no choice."

He stopped, and stared, his eyes nearly popping out of his skull.

"You're serious?!"

She gave a curt nod.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me! Fine!" he slackened. "Go, then! You fucking Hilary Swank wannabe. See if I care."

She pulled his walkie from his pocket, and slipped it into her own jumpsuit before rolling off of him. He let out a loud, ever so exaggerated, cry.

"Why are you doing this?" he demanded, rubbing his wrists where red marks had already formed around them. She bit her lip.

"I'm sorry about that."

"Oh really? You're sorry?!" he spat. "LaFleur'll have a field day when you get back!"

"Please, don't tell him."

"You expect me to lie after you nearly broke my neck just now?"

She rolled her eyes.

"Hardly."

He let out a derisive snort.

"Yeah? Well, tell that to my impending hernia!"

Leave it up to Miles to add a side dish of drama to an already tense situation.

"If I'd wanted to break your neck, I would have."

"Well, THAT," he pointed at her. "That's a real comfort, thanks Juliet! I'll be sure to pass that along to the DHARMA folks at the next town meeting."

For all of his sarcasm she did feel guilty. Over the past year they'd become allies, friends even. Jin, Miles and James, the most unlikely group of people to have ever met and band together. Yet, over time, they'd all turned into more than just collateral casualties of time travel. If there was anyone she could trust it should be Miles, but there was just too much at stake. If she told him about her plans, then he'd tell James, and that would lead to more questions, and then accusations. She might even have time to stop and think, rethink. She couldn't risk that.

But then, maybe; she could throw him some breadcrumbs, some food for thought to chew on. It would give her a reasonable head start.

"Come," she said, holding out her hand. He took it, albeit reluctantly; she pulled him to his feet.

"I'm going out there to find Richard."

"Eyeliner Tarzan?"

She shook her head, that was almost amusing.

"You've been spending too much time with James."

"Says you."

"Excuse me?"

"You think that Jin and I would think that all of those bumps in the night we hear is just your furniture coming to life and humping itself? Which by the way–" He froze, catching her impending look of doom.

"One more word, just one more", her eyes threatened.

He cleared his throat, inching a calculated step backward.

"Why do you need to talk to Richard?" he changed the subject.

"Miles," the threat not completely gone from her eyes. "Just make sure that James doesn't follow me."

"Can't stop that guy from doing anything he doesn't want to do. Or, well… technically, wants to do."

He sniggered, amused by his own disaster of a joke, and she took that opportunity to slip between the pillars; as expected the pylons remained compliantly oblivious to her frame. Thank God for small mercies.

"Then stall him!" she threw over her shoulder.

"Whatever!" he yelled after her.

No matter his tone, she trusted Miles to be discreet. None of them should want to be stupid enough to ever risk their cover being blown, and besides where else could they go? Everything depended upon them keeping up appearances. Miles would reactivate the fence the moment she'd gone, and even though he denied it now, he would lie for her; if only for a couple of hours.

She sprinted down the overgrown path, twigs and leaves already sticking to her jumpsuit.

She'd better find Richard soon.

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The Jungle, July 1975

When James had first asked her about eyeliner Benjamin Button, she hadn't quite known how to respond. Before the 815 crash, Ben had only ever referred to Richard as his advisor, or the island's intermediator.

To her, Richard had simply been the mysterious man who'd first recruited her, and then delivered her to Ben as would a postman a package. Afterwards she only ever saw him sporadically. He preferred to live with another group at the Temple, a remote place in the jungle that even the D.I. had had a hard time locating in their day. But whenever he wasn't at the Temple he would intermittently show up at the barracks carrying perfectly symmetrically folded pieces of parchment paper; "Orders from Jacob", Ben would say.

The first time she heard that name, she'd asked:

"Jacob? Who's Jacob?" Ben had been evasive at first, but clear in his reply "Jacob protects the island; he protects us."

What Jacob was protecting them from, he wouldn't say. Instead, Ben would often talk about vague miracles and electromagnetic energy. She soon found out that they all looked to Jacob as worshippers would to a deity. She looked to Ben a lot back then, as he seemed to hold most of the answers in that regard, but after a while he started to misinterpret her intentions, invading her privacy in a manner that reminded her of how Edmund used to corner her out of nowhere.

Alarm bells screeched ear damagingly loud; she distanced herself from Ben, and turned to the others instead. She asked Amelia about the DHARMA stations, Harper about the Initiative, Ethan about the Sonar Fence and the submarine, but it wasn't until she asked Goodwin about the strange noises in the night that she finally received a truthful answer. "I'll show you," he said. The following day he took her out into the jungle, where they both silently watched an immense pillar of black smoke rise up and down into the air, moving about like a creature out of a horror movie.

She stopped asking questions after that, realizing that whatever was going on on the island didn't abide by any of the natural laws of the universe that she'd been taught to acknowledge rationally. The revelation didn't deter her inquisitive mind, though. So, without permission, she started looking for answers elsewhere. She rummaged through poorly conserved documents, discovered secret underground passageways, and abandoned DHARMA stations; still, whatever had happened to the D.I. remained a mystery that even she couldn't solve on her own. It wasn't until Alex took her out into the jungle, after a particularly heated argument with her father, that Juliet was finally able to lay that question to rest. Against Ben's explicit orders, Alex had shown her a pit filled with twisted curiosities that turned out to be decomposing bodies in faded navy colored jumpsuits. With a start she realized that it was them, that they'd never left, and had been there all along, so close to the barracks.

Horrified she asked what had happened, Alex replied:

"My father."

Like a homesick child Juliet'd crawled into bed that night, craving her sister's comfort more than ever. As she closed her eyes, she imagined that melodic voice soothing her; the feel of familial arms protecting her from the monsters that used to live in her bedroom closet when she was a little girl. For a moment she was eight again, and her sister her protector.

For months, she'd clung to those memories like a drowning woman to air, and with each new burning breath she watched herself drift further from the shores of that longed for existence, until one day, the image on the horizon curved and her sister dropped from view completely.

By 2002, Ben had her bound to an unbreakable promise, a chain and ball shackled to her soul. Goodwin taught her how to mask her longings, tempering her burning desire for home. And while, like a parasite, Ben continued to try to worm his way into her heart, (often dropping by unannounced with wild flower bouquets and Belgium chocolate) she taught herself to carefully stave off his advances, until she could stave them off no more.

Between 2001 and 2004, she lost nine women to a nameless invader that dragged her to the edge of insanity. It left no traceable data for her to analyse, and for months, she ploughed waist deep through a disease filled swamp of misery and despair. She located its entrance into the body, she watched how it tore through her patients, and she knew when it killed, but she remained blind to where it housed. All she could determine with absolute certainty was that it was happening, and that there was nothing she could do about it. And while over time, the memories of those nine wounds turned into rough skinned scars, any thoughts that she might have had of Richard slipped through the cracks of her subconscious, not to resurface until 1974.

Who was eyeliner Benjamin Button? James's guess was as good as hers.

She returned her attention to the road ahead, where she'd been trampling through bramble bushes, and wadding through clear water brooks for the past hour. She made sure to keep her estimated guess of the Temple's location on her right, while taking careful stock of her surroundings on her left, moving about with extreme stealth; the way she'd been taught to move about by them. It had become second nature to her now, like falling down and standing back up. But then, so had lying, cheating and manipulating her way out of impossible situations. There were moments, like these, when that realization hit her hard. She hadn't always been like this. In fact, she wasn't anything like the woman she used to know. That person had had morals, integrity, and no backbone whatsoever. It seemed like decades ago, but it had only been four short years since she'd last behaved like Edmund's string puppet, a lapdog with no discernible purpose. Not anymore. She'd learned her lessons the hard way: to lead or to be led, to harm or to be harmed, and to kill or to be killed.

She looked up, the wind had changed; she was close now. As another minute past she caught soft whispers, the kind that used to include hers. Pots clinging together, the crackle of a midday fire, the swishing of fabric, hands clapping, laughter. She stepped closer: shouting, more laughter; the careless rustle and bustle of people living their lives.

She could see them now, and for a moment she watched them from behind overgrown bushes. She crouched closer, twigs bending under the weight of her fingertips, but not snapping. She was more careful than that.

To her surprise, she recognized a lone woman next to a boiling cauldron that stood perched in the middle of the camp. A young Amelia. Pensively, she stirred the pot, cooking what smelled like a mixture of island vegetables and boar meat. A little to her left a young girl sat crossed legged in front of a boy, playing a clapping game. She couldn't quite make out their faces, but she briefly wondered about their names, if she knew them –would know them. There were more people, young and old. Some she recognised, others that had either died or left long before her arrival. Also, more children that would grow up to be vague acquaintances or book club participants.

She suppressed the urge to flee, deterring the heart racing expectation that foreshadowed her presence; the image powerful enough to change her mind. She rose slowly, then stepped out into the open with bold determination, her hands held high up above her head, one foot in front of the other. It was a stupid move. They were unpredictable and much more dangerous than their future counterparts.

She took another step closer, a branch snapped in two. Their reaction immediate: eyes turned on her at an inhuman speed, silence muzzled the buoyant atmosphere. Various threatening clicks snapped into place, weapons balanced high upon army trained arms. She counted five men swiftly closing in on her.

"Who are you?!" one yelled.

Why are you breaking the truce?" another demanded.

She turned to look at each of them, he wasn't among them.

"I need to speak to the person in charge."

They laughed; the echoes of their derisive mirth pressing down on her courage.

"I don't think you're in any position to be making demands, lady."

She really wasn't, but that didn't stop her from staring down a very young Tom Friendly. He couldn't be much older than twenty-five. Once, her superior in age and status, now her junior in years as well as knowledge. This was strange. Would he recognise her 26 years from now? Was that why he'd always been so nice to her? Because he knew?

"Stand down!" a rough accented voice suddenly cut through the group. Every face in the clearing turned, but Juliet had a hard time tearing her eyes away from Tom.

She'd never meant for him to die. If only she could warn him somehow, forge a connection through time and prevent a bad future outcome from coming to pass. "Whatever happened, happened", Daniel's voice thundered through her mind. Did her Tom know that she was the one who would end up digging his grave? Young Tom's riffle pointed straight at her, would he be the one digging hers? Would it come full circle, right here? Right now?

"What have we here?"

She forced her eyes away. A woman, roughly her own age and similar in looks, approached the group.

"Who are you?" she demanded.

Juliet blinked, confused, her mind half on Tom still.

"Where's Richard?" she blurt out.

The woman sniggered.

"Richard? What makes you think he'd want to speak to the likes of you?" affirming whispers, and nodding figures stepped up behind the woman.

"He'd want to know I'm here."

"He'd want to know you are here?"

Their amusement peaked.

"And what, pray tell, makes a DHARMA puppet such as yourself so special that Richard'd want to know?"

DHARMA puppet? She hadn't heard that one before. But if evidence was what they wanted, then she had nothing to worry about. They seared it onto her skin for a reason, after all.

"Check my back," she said.

"What?"

"My lower back, check it."

The woman's expression shifted, a concoction of amusement and disdain spawning forth some mild interest that stretched to the curving of her brows.

She looked at Tom.

"You heard the woman,"she shrugged. "Check her back, Tom."

Tom nodded.

"Unzip," he demanded.

Juliet compliantly pulled her jumpsuit down to her waist, revealing a white tank top underneath; with the barrel of his rifle Tom pushed the fabric up, and as the mark that lay seared upon her skin sprung into view, the tension in the air shifted once more.

Sharp intakes of breath seemed to suck the oxygen straight from the surrounding trees, travelling all around and down the wide clearing.

"Who gave that to you?" the woman asked, turning a whiter shade of pale as her eyes darted from Tom to the others.

"Let me talk to Richard first," Juliet repeated.

"Who gave you that mark?!"

"I'll tell Richard!" she countered.

"Tell me!"

"No!"

Her eyes darkened, and before Juliet could comprehend what happened next Tom had already slammed the butt of his rifle into her lower back. With a loud cry she crashed to her knees, rough hands pulled her up by her hair, and as the pain shot through her head and down her back it was hard to focus; the feeling similar to that of hundred needles sticking through her skull all at once. She looked up, the butt of another riffle hanging suspended in mid-air, aimed straight at her stomach. Reflexively she put her arms out, protecting that which she couldn't stand to lose.

"No! Stop!" she begged, her voice hoarse. "I'm pregnant!"

The man hesitated, his rifle poised, held back only by sheer doubt. He looked to the woman in charge.

"I'm one of you!" Juliet cried out, anger temporarily casting out all rational thought.

The woman motioned for the others to stand down, and Juliet heavily dropped to the ground, her heart hammering against her ribcage at a painful speed. She couldn't be sure of what she would have done if the man hadn't hesitated, but she sure as hell knew that the outcome wouldn't have been in his favor.

"You're no more one of us than any traitor who bears that mark will ever be again."

"At least it shows that at some point, I was one of you," she wheezed.

"A fleur-de-lis is hardly an original mark."

"Yet," she took in a painfully slow, but controlled breath. "This design is unique, and you know it."

The woman's upper lip quivered, extreme agitation forming around the corners of her mouth.

"Richard!" she called, never breaking eye-contact.

It was then that Juliet recognised her, the intense icy blues, the thick British accent. This had to be the famed Eloise Hawking. For some reason she'd always pictured her to be taller, and broader. The type of woman who enjoyed deer hunting and hammer throwing on early Sunday mornings right before dawn broke through the night. She'd imagined a wild tempered shark. But this? No. Not this. Eloise was slim, petite even, moving about with the same grace as a proud lioness. A hunter by nature, always with her pride in mind, nothing like a shark. Yet, the lines about her eyes mirrored Juliet's own mask, hiding an intense past filled with contradictions. Maybe, in another life, they would have been friends.

"Who's this?"

Richard appeared as summoned, popping into view like a genie out of a bottle. He looked exactly the same. He always looked the same. They locked eyes, and Juliet felt a shiver run down her spine. Bizarre, just bizarre.

"She bears the mark," Eloise barked. "How can she bear the mark?"

Richard looked confused, not quite comprehending what Eloise was referring to, but as he studied Juliet there lay sudden recognition in his eyes. It betrayed a thought, as though he'd been waiting for something like this to happen.

"What mark?"

"Our fleur-de-lis."

He stepped closer, Tom lifted Juliet's top again, stepping even closer Richard bend down, lightly touching the mark, his fingers cold on her skin.

"How is this possible?" he asked, looking up at Tom.

The young man stammered, but Richard shook his head, and waved him away.

"Where did you get this?" he said, for the first time really looking at her. "This is a very particular mark. Who gave this to you?"

"Jacob," she lied.

"What did you say?" a slow staccato punctuated each word.

"I want to talk to Jacob."

He studied her closely, his eyes burning holes into her skin. He knew more, much, much more.

"Take her to my tent," he ordered.

"What are you doing?" Eloise demanded.

"I need to talk to this woman in private."

"That's against the rules of the truce!"

"Jacob wants it so."

"How in the hell–"

"Eloise!" Richard cut off. "Trust me."

Juliet was sure that if Eloise had had fangs Richard surely would have fallen victim to her seething rage by now. But she stood her ground, respecting the wishes of a deity whose existence she probably had to take on faith as much as Ben had had to.

Firm hands guided her past Eloise, and the woman gave her one last foul look in passing.

Once inside Richard motioned for her to sit, then turned to the men behind her.

"Leave us," he ordered.

"I don't think–"

"I really don't care what you think, Brian. Leave us, now!"

Brian muttered something incomprehensible under his breath, but did as told, motioning for the other man to follow suit.

"What's your name?" Richard asked, once they'd left.

"My name?"

"Yes, you have one, I trust?"

"Yes, of course."

"Well?"

"Juliet."

"Last name?"

"Carlson."

"Carlson?" he frowned.

"Burke," she corrected. "Look, I–"

"Juliet Burke," Richard continued.

She stopped, rendered somewhat speechless by the interruption and this strange obsession with her name.

"You know what's funny, Juliet?"

Richard turned around, and sat down on the cot in front of her; the bed creaking beneath his weight as he pensively leaned forward on his arms.

"Two days ago, Jacob appeared to me," she sat up straighter; a pounding pain shooting through her back; she ignored it.

"He told me the strangest thing. Jacob said, that in a couple of days time, I should expect a woman by the name of Juliet Burke to come striding straight through the jungle into our camp, demanding to see him."

She stared, unmoved.

"Exactly, like you did just now," he paused. "Isn't that a funny coincidence?"

"I don't know what to tell you," she said, chilled by the thought of predestination. Although, by now she'd learned that there really was no such thing as a linear passage of time. She was living proof of that.

"No, I didn't think you would. But Jacob gave me a note," from his chest pocket he pulled a perfectly symmetrically folded piece of parchment paper, her name written in the centre in indelible ink, Jacob's ink.

She reached for it, but Richard held onto it, forcing her to look up to where his eyes met hers.

"I'm to go with you," he said.

"Go where?"

"Wherever it is you plan on going."

He let go of the note.

With trembling fingers, she unfolded it.

Jacob's message was short, poetic even:

"You may leave, But only once. Return, and you are to stay.

Choose wisely, Juliet.

Richard will show you the way."

- Jacob

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A/N: I know it took me a while to get this chapter up! I'm sorry! I always try to be as detailed and coherent as possible in my writing, and this one took a lot of time to figure out. I love writing from Juliet's POV, though! She's so incredibly complex, and I wanted to bring that to live more in this chapter. Hope it shows!

I decided to change the title of the story, because I just wasn't happy with it. I personally think that this new title does the story more justice; I just hope that changing it didn't make it too hard for you guys to find the story again. I promise, the title won't change again. This is it.

I also wanted to respond to the Guest who left a review on this story on ff.

First of all, thank you so much for your kind and encouraging words. I hope you'll continue to enjoy this story, and I truly appreciate the kind of detailed review that you left! I always love to hear what goes on in the minds of those who read my stories. Thank you for that! And also, yes the summary might give away a bit much, but it also only reveals the tip of the iceberg of what I've got in mind for this story! The true purpose of the summary was to create an expectation. I'm actually very curious to know what you think it means! But all in all, even if it means what you think it means, there's a lot more to it than just that one storyline/chapter. Ha! I hope I'm making sense!

Anyway, thank you all for reading this story. Hope to see you again in the next chapter!

#Juliet Burke #James Ford #Sawyer #Miles Straume #Lost #Suliet #Lost Fanfiction #Jin-Soo Kwon #Daniel Faraday #DHARMA Initiative #1975 #Juliet Carlson #Richard Alpert #Eloise Hawking #the Others #Hostiles #Chapter 2 #Future's Past #TheLampPost

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pyreo · 6 years

Text

oddly super-serious post for a moment:

I know the widespread online reaction to Ready Player One has been eye-rolling and general sarcasm, but for all that there’s still people on twitter that defend it, saying it’s just an homage, that it’s just a love letter to nostalgia and

I find it hard to articulate what I find so repulsive about this vague non-attempt at an intellectual property

I haven’t read it, but I have seen actual content that includes

Blatant racism

Predictable sexism

Just terribly, terribly written words

And that’s enough. That’s enough to dismiss a thing and demand that the writer tries harder. But it’s not just that. It’s some kind of story about an author avatar who is such a huge, HUGE nerd that he manufactures an ultra-specific situation where that exact thing is the only way to save the world.

And let’s be clear, that is

stupid as fuck

If you’ve been on the internet, if you’re a nerd like the type of person this would appear to be aimed at, if you engage in fandom at all, you’d already know how dime-a-dozen self-insert protagonists are, who represent their author and jump through into the world of a movie/book/game and get to be the hero. It’s been done, it’s been done a hundred million ways, and it’s called fanfiction

I’ve written fanfiction just about all my life, and I’m all for declassifying it as a form of time-wasting. Fanfiction is derided pretty much everywhere as being the product of obsessed losers who don’t have ideas of their own. Fanfiction, to me, is a way to practice a craft without the burden of inventing the ideas first. It’s an entry point, and it’s also a harmless hobby, it can help you understand writing tropes, and it can help you develop your own ideas alongside someone elses - but if not, it’s still okay. Not everything everyone does has to be done for profit or fame. Fanfiction is a labour of passion, made and given freely.

Fanfiction is, and always has been, highly female-associated. The first fanfic writers are known to be mostly women, and it remains aligned that way to this day - and in practice, at least in my experience, I’ve always seen more women and girls active in writing fandom, and fandom in general. We’re here, we do this.

And yet when Gamemaster Anthony here writes himself being the hero to other people’s characters, with actual movie posters that photoshop his face onto The Matrix, this self-insertion is blockbuster-movie-worthy. Apparently.

When a lot of fanfic writers do self-insertion I feel like they at some point, on some level get the idea that they’re doing it for their own fun. It’s personal. “It’s my favourite movie, only I’m in it”, yeah, is only of interest to yourself, pretty much. And that’s fine! Because you’re not exactly pretending it IS interesting to anyone else.

On one hand, you gotta hand it to these posters for capturing exactly what Ready Player One is - so derivative it beggars belief. But the other thing is, we know what these posters are meant to appeal to.

Like the guy who wrote an entire book about how he saved the universe by knowing every line in Blade Runner, there are guys out there who make being a devoted fan their entire identity. Guys who immerse themselves in sci-fi or games or media that appeals to them and know every single thing about it.

Now, I’m not trying to generalise along gender lines here, but the kind of fan that *I* am - I like to see media critically. I like dissecting what makes it work and why. I like reinterpreting stories. I enjoy writing my own, and changing things up, or making my own backstory to explore an underused character, letting my own imagination fill in what was left open for me. We cannot engage with other people’s work without seeing it through our own lens, and I say be proud of it, express yourself in your fandom - because nothing is ever going to be truly objective.

The other kind of fan is the type who sees what they love as static. An idea published in a pure state of being that can’t be changed, shouldn’t be critiqued (if they like it), and so they express fandom by referencing its content. Quotes. Posters. Outside of geek ‘’’culture’’’ I see this in sports fans who learn every single match statistic for their team. It’s the type of person who watches Big Bang Theory because saying ‘it’s like in Game of Thrones’ constitutes a joke. There’s no engagement or introspection about Game of Thrones. It just pointed to a thing they like and somehow it’s funny.

Static fans are more well-known and more easily accepted. Static fans don’t seem to ‘get’ what transformative fans do, which feels like a fundamental disconnect between the mentalities - ‘I value things by learning every aspect about them, and you want to change it?’ A static fan is the type of person who writes Ready Player One, where ‘creativity’ means regurgitating lines and figures out of someone else’s work, and being the best at this, and then everyone praises you for how good it was for you to know these arbitrary things. Ready Player One is a guy who’s absorbed minute details from media he likes but desperately wants to justify knowing them in a world where you don’t get awards for being able to recite somebody else’s script.

The book reaches its nadir in a chapter where the protagonist makes his way through a virtual recreation of the 1983 film WarGames. Instead of simply namedropping the title, Cline unnecessarily and embarrassingly re-narrates the first 15 minutes of the movie, dialogue and all.

-- ‘Ready Player One’ is a terrible book and it will be a terrible movie

This is the dead-end of static fandom. A pretty basic-level dystopia that revolves around pop-culture references painstakingly engineered into making everyone love you. Media builds on other media all the time, one person using inspiration from another to build a vision from their own perspective - incorporating similar tropes, paying homage through iconic shots, camera work, lighting, musical motifs, symbolism or narrative cadence.

This isn’t that. This is the overhyped equivalent of a guy who finds out you enjoy video games and immediately eagerly screams at you “THE CAKE IS A LIE!!!!!!”

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negativehysteria · 6 years

Note

Can you write a timeless prompt where Lyatt is a thing and Lucy is pregnant and they time travel but accidentally get left behind in the past?

Here you go, anon! It’s also posted here on my fanfic account. Enjoy!

Lucy knew she would look back at these past few weeks as one of her bigger lapses of judgment in her life; if not the biggest. Staring at the ceiling all night and all morning seemed like the simplest solution to this issue. That was, until the routine morning sickness forced her out of bed to the creepy and rusted bathroom. It had become a daily challenge for Lucy to throw up as covertly as possible, never forgetting to place a chair in front of the metal door. She did all of this in secret, for as long as things stayed the same, no harm could be done. And all Lucy wanted was for things to stay the same.

That morning was no different than the rest. She glanced at the blinking red numbers of the alarm clock, reading the time as 0700. 7 AM and she’d already been awake for three hours. She sighed as she adjusted her body ever so slightly, just barely brushing up against the hand at her waist. She heard a low grunt as she stopped in her tracks, careful not to wake the sleeping soldier next to her. She resettled again only to be disturbed by a flipping feeling in her stomach. No, she groaned to herself, Is it too much to ask for a single reprieve? One day?

She complained to herself as she rose from the bed. Carefully shedding the blanket, she shrugged on the white t-shirt that had been strewn along the bedroom floor. She took two steps forward before a hand caught her wrist. The sudden lurch of movement shocked Lucy enough to make her stumble back, inhaling a sharp gasp,

“Jesus, Wyatt,” She breathed, drinking in the smirking face before her, “You gave me a heart attack,”

“Hmm that’s uncommon for a woman your age,” Wyatt grumbled, his voice muffled by the pillow below him, “You should see a cardiologist. I can refer you to a guy.”

Lucy scoffed, batting his hand away from her wrist,

“Your sarcasm is not so funny at 7 in the morning,” Lucy said, turning to leave,

“Would it be funnier at 4 AM?” He called after her, his voice suddenly more clear, “Or would you be equally as unreceptive?” Lucy stopped in her tracks, caught off guard by what she could only fathom was an accusation,

“What do you mean?” She turned around, mustering up the most convincing confused face she could make. Wyatt sighed, running his fingers through his hair,

“I’ve been giving you space, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t noticed how you’re barely sleeping at night,” He maintained eye contact with her, trapping her stare in his own, “I’m not dumb, I know something is bothering you. I just hope you will talk to me about it when you’re ready.”

Lucy held his stare, biting the inside of her cheek. She knew the best response to his words would be to thank him for his concern, or to assure him that she was completely fine (though that would be a lie). But some part of her just couldn’t let the words escape her mouth; or any words for that matter.

She smiled shyly, nodding her head as she fled the room. She just barely made it to the bathroom before she released the contents of her stomach into the toilet for the second week in a row. She hated doing this alone, but that was the only way she could fathom doing it. At least for now.

The blaring alarm of the computer system snapped Lucy out of her thousand yard stare. It wasn’t until the signal sounded that Lucy realized Rufus had been talking to her. The last words she remembered hearing were ‘Tatooine’ and ‘Vader’, so she had confidence in knowing her mind wasn’t 100% into the conversation to begin with.

“What do you got, Rufus?” Wyatt appeared behind the engineer, placing a hand on the back of Lucy’s chair,

“Looks like the mothership is in New Orleans, January of 1918,” Rufus read the coordinates. All eyes instantaneously turned to Lucy, who had been only half listening to the conversation. As the lull of voices hit her, she shot a puzzled look at the faces around her,

“Huh? Oh, well January of 1918 is the beginning of the first Influenza epidemic. It’s said to have wiped out anywhere from 50 to 100 million people worldwide,” She finished, hoping the team would be satisfied enough with that answer to not question her momentary disorientation.

“Well, alright then,” Wyatt smiled, placing his hands on his hips, “Guess we’re headed to Bourbon Street!”

Lucy swore that this was the happiest she had ever seen Wyatt. His eyes were bright as they stalked through the center of the town, listening to the blaring of saxophones harmonizing in the distance. The houses were vibrant, along with the joyful people passing in front of them. Lucy smiled at the scene, only to remember that, very soon, most of these people will be overtaken with illness. Lucy always viewed this as the most painful aspect of the job: seeing people, caught up in their lives and in their hopes for tomorrow, only to bear the burden of knowing that tomorrow is rarely worth hoping for.

“This is everything I imagined it to be!” Wyatt practically hopped from store to store, lifting his head to the sky,

“Yeah, well I hope you both have your flu shot. In a few days from now, these streets will be a lot less lively,” Lucy lowered her voice, “Literally.”

Rufus looked at Lucy with concern, glancing at Wyatt for a moment before continuing to walk,

“Right…well, we should look for Emma and find out what their endgame is here. Any thoughts?” He asked, drawing the trio into the corner of an intersection,

“I’m thinking maybe they’re pulling another Nicholas situation. Saving someone from dying from a catastrophe to bring them back to the present? Or they could be pulling a Flynn, just saving someone from dying period. Why else would they go here, at this time?” Wyatt finished as Rufus nodded in agreement. The two men looked to Lucy, who had been staring across the street to a very pregnant woman walking from the store. Her lime green dress cascaded around her ankles, her belly seemingly painfully protruding from her body. Lucy winced at the idea that this could be her soon. Though the thought of having children made her more excited than she could articulate, for the moment, the small ball of terror in the back of her mind overcame her joy. How could she possibly do this?

“Earth to Lucy!” Rufus waved his hand in front of her face. She shook her head, clearing her voice,

“Yeah, sorry. I agree with Wyatt. It’s either that or they’re trying to wipe out the entire city, which would be stupid and unnecessary,” She sighed when she finished speaking, confronted with worried glances from both Rufus and Wyatt. Before she could address them, a gunshot rang through the streets, echoing off the buildings and making it impossible to determine the origin.

“Get Down!” Wyatt yelled, grabbing Lucy and pulling her into a divet in the stone building behind them. Before she could call to him, Lucy spotted Rufus running away, back to where they had come from,

“Rufus, no!” Lucy called, moving to chase after him as Wyatt reached for her hand, pulling her back into him,

“It’s safer here,” He whispered into her ear. She was breathing heavily, so worried for her friend that she hadn’t realized that the gunfire had grown distant. Distant in the direction of Rufus. One glance at Wyatt told her that he was thinking the same thing,

“We have to-” Lucy started,

“I know,” He cut her off, grabbing her arm once again and practically dragging her along the streets, “Just stay behind me,”

Lucy sped up to run next to him, punching Wyatt in the shoulder,

“I’m not letting you be a human shield for me. Not now,” She said through labored breaths. He glanced at her with a puzzled look,

“What do you mean ‘not now’?”

Before she could evade the question, the two caught up to the action, spotting Emma running towards the Lifeboat.

“Oh, Shit,” Wyatt whispered. Peering around a tree, Wyatt saw Rufus sitting in the lifeboat, hesitant to close the door to leave Lucy and Wyatt behind. But they had a rule: if Rittenhouse finds the lifeboat, take it home before they can apprehend it. No matter what. Knowing this, Wyatt waited until Rufus spotted him. Wyatt gave a small nod as Rufus hesitantly nodded back. Seconds later, Lucy and Wyatt heard the familiar pop of the time machine, leaving them behind in 1918.

“So we just wait here?” Lucy asked when they settled into their room at a bed and breakfast. Wyatt nodded, shrugging off his gun holster,

“Yup, we wait for the date that he comes back to get us. Could be a few days though, remember we’re stretching apart these visits as much as possible so we don’t run into ourselves-”

“Yeah, yeah, time machine rules,” Lucy muttered, playing with a loose string on her skirt. Wyatt sat down next to her, reaching for her hand. On impulse, she flinched back, feeling guilty about lying to him for these past few weeks.

“Lucy, what is going on with you?” Wyatt asked, brushing stray hairs away from her face. She inhaled deeply, standing to make her way to the balcony. She had to do it. She had to tell him.

“You can tell me anything,” Wyatt continued, following her until she felt his heavy presence behind her on the balcony. Lucy took another deep breath,

“I never used to trust people much,” Lucy closed her eyes, leaning her hands against the railing, “Even before all of this, trusting people never came easily to me. That’s why I was so sure of my mother all this time; because she was the one person in the world who I thought had earned it,” She opened her eyes to look at Wyatt, “And now I’ve learned to trust you and I was just… I was so afraid that telling you might scare you away. And I couldn’t stand to lose you, too.” A tear trailed down her cheek until she tasted the saltiness on her lips. Wyatt shook his head,

“Tell me what?” He whispered. It took all of her courage to look him in the eyes and she was afraid she would have none left to tell him. However, the words came out as easily as the tears streamed down her face,

“I’m pregnant,” she said. Saying the words out loud felt like a release of the longest breath she’d ever held.

Wyatt’s face could only be described as someone who simultaneously heard the best and most inconvenient news of his life. Lucy held her breath as his mouth crept into a smile. A burly laugh escaped his lips as he scooped her into his arms and twirled her around the room. She laughed like she hadn’t laughed in months.

“So you’re…you’re okay with this?” Lucy asked once he had calmed from his initial celebrations,

“Okay? Okay!? I’m great! This is amazing, Lucy,” He reached up and took her shoulders in his hands, “Don’t you dare think for one second otherwise,”

“But we’re a few days away from the deadliest pandemic in histo-”

“Shhhh,” Wyatt cut her off, “Let’s just pretend for a second that we are a normal couple in 1918, who are in love and just found out are having a baby?” He smiled.

“I don’t know,” Lucy sighed, “Normal is a little far-fetched.” They laughed and hugged once more, forgetting their past, present, and future,

“Just one question,” Wyatt asked. Lucy looked up at him, nodding for him to continue, “What the hell are we gonna do now?”

#timeless #nbc timeless #timeless nbc #lyatt #lucy preston #wyatt logan #Lucy x Wyatt #wyatt x lucy #wucy #Rufus Carlin

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fly-pow-bye · 6 years

Text

Powerpuff Girls 2016 - “Bubbles The Blue”

Written by: Haley Mancini

Written and Storyboarded by: Caitlin Vanarsdale, Angela Zhang

Directed by: Nick Jennings, Bob Boyle

No Eiffel 65 jokes here. Or Lord of the Rings.

This episode deals with a serious topic. While I had this interpretation since I first watched this episode, one of the head writers outright said it on their Twitter.

But anyway, here's a dolphin running into a wall. It is not that indicative of the rest of the episode.

Blossom: (with no sarcasm) Dolphins are sooo smart!

The joke is that animals are stupid. Buttercup gets into an argument with Blossom over whether or not dolphins can speak Spanish. Blossom and Buttercup decide to go to the animal expert: Bubbles. This may be a reference to Bubbles' ability to talk to animals, which I can appreciate. Also forgotten: this scene.

Just like the title says, Bubbles is blue. Not just in a "crying a lot" kind of way, but in a "lying in bed, circles under eyes, permanent frown" kind of way. Buttercup makes the assumption that she must be having a staring contest with the ceiling, but Bubbles corrects her and says that she's just sad today. The very thought of any emotion that isn't considered "bubbly" makes them shocked.

As in, "make another silly face inspired by those silly storyboards" shocked. At this point, it's just the show's style to have these faces. It does give PPG 2016 a style not a lot of cartoons have, but I would say there is a reason for that. They ask Bubbles various questions to why she's so sad. Is she tired? No. Is she bored? No. Is she hungry? No.

To be more specific, Buttercup pulls out a living chicken and a blowtorch. See, since Bubbles is too busy moping throughout the entirety of this episode, Buttercup gets to take over the job of doing the "so random" jokes. I didn't think this one was that bad, but I prefer the line that comes right after this.

Blossom: Are you sad because you keep thinking about your place in society, as the eyes of everyone looking to you for guidance begins to weigh heavily on your young soul, only to realize you were just one of the many leaves bending to the will of the wind in a never-ending race with the cruel mistress that is time, an illusionistic prison created by man, shackling us all to the dream we call life?

If you needed a signature quote for some social media site that still uses them, here's the best attempt at one I've seen out of this show. Bubbles just answers no to this, while Buttercup's jaw is dropped. One of the few subtle jokes with Buttercup, as I can now appreciate. Eventually, they get scared. Not because Bubbles has a serious medical condition I did not think this show was capable of portraying...

...but because the Professor randomly pops up out of nowhere. He's here to show off his "soundless slippers". The episode grinds to a halt so they can show an informerical. Does it have anything to do with the plot? Will it actually amount to anything? Is it even funny? Much like the Powerpuff Girls' questions, the answer is no.

Before the Professor can contribute to the actual plot, the hotline-cellphone rings. I am glad to say this season uses the cellphone often enough that I can count episodes that actually use it on two hands rather than one.

We cut to what should have been the opening scene for this episode: a giant armadillo having anger issues threatening Townsville. This comes complete with helicopters trying to stop him; I'm actually kind of surprised Townsville even bothers with funding for that. Well, maybe they have some reason now considering the Powerpuff Girls' success rate with monster punches, but still. Blossom and Buttercup show up to give him the old punch that needs to be covered up with a hit flash. The Harmadillo rolls up into a ball, and they get an idea seemingly pulled straight out of the original.

They then play catch with the rolled up armadillo. The original would have had them use a telephone pole and a baseball mitt sign, which would be more creative, but they have aura powers now. Buttercup uses a baseball bat aura, because you can use that as a weapon. Blossom uses a pillow aura, because they still have to stick with Blossom's theme of "things you can find at HomeGoods and/or Office Depot".

They call out to Bubbles to join in on the fun, but she’s still on the ground, still sad. Blossom and Buttercup wonder why she can still be not bubbly if Bubbles is her name, because how dare she have any other emotions! To be fair to them, this is no ordinary sadness, as we'll soon see.

We go into a musical segment, where Blossom and Buttercup try to woo that “sadness” with her favorite things. Blossom shows her Octi, a tea party, and other cute things…

...while Buttercup shows gross things like lint from a laundromat. I'll give them credit for the use of stock images this time; it enhances the contrast between the sensible items and the one from the new wacky girl.

This also plays into a theme with the episode. Both of them don't understand Bubbles' sadness, and try to use their own ways to try to "cure" it. What they do is not too far off from examples of what not to do when trying to help someone with depression. This doesn't seem out of character to me, because this could show their inexperience. I mean, they are just little kids, after all.

With the mindset of a little kid, their next assumption is that someone did this to her. Buttercup goes to Discount Jojo's place, and punches him right out of the shower. This scene reminds me that I could be watching Telephonies instead. Jojo does interrupt his lines to remind the viewer that while it's not his fault, he does think it would be a great idea. There's no foreshadowing here, it's just for the viewer to know that Jojo is still a villain, despite everything else.

Blossom also uses the idea that someone did this to Bubbles, but does it in a different way. She falls a little more into the example that these symptoms must be the result of something personal, which it is not.

Specifically, Blossom thinks it is her own fault as she gives her apology letter after apology letter, despite Bubbles outright telling her that she didn't do anything. This "I'm sorry for remaking the bed" one is the only one we actually see; either that one was the only idea they could think of, or they wasted all of their talent on the wacky Buttercup jokes.

Speaking of which, Buttercup then shows up with a happy ray gun. Thankfully, it doesn't work like the happy rays from the dancing lobsters from Painbow, it just puts a silly costume on whoever it shoots. Essentially, it's an attempt to try to hide the problem, and it doesn't work.

In an unrelated note, Blossom asks her where she got the ray gun in the first place, and we cutaway to a scene where Buttercup threatens Discount Jojo with a knuckle sandwich. This is far beyond "rascal" and more into "Him possession". In fact, how come Discount Jojo was the first villain they thought of when it comes to playing with people's emotions? It could have been Him, or Alle...yeah, maybe it was Jojo.

The Puffs in the wrong continue to ramble to Bubbles until they get interrupted by that running gag of the soundless slippers. We finally get to see the payoff to that, and it is just as great as the gag was.

Buttercup: (zaps the slippers) No.

Professor: Aww! My slippers!

Annoying thing happens constantly, Buttercup makes it go bye bye, joke over. It is better than nothing, which is how most of the running gags seem to end in this show, so at least I could give it that.

Blossom starts complaining to the Professor about her sad sister, and even pulls out the “she’s only doing this for attention” line. Unlike Buttercup's antics, Blossom's terrible reasoning of someone suffering from depression is realistic. Honestly, it shows that she is just as terrible as the new wacky girl when dealing with this. Who can possibly do something good with this?

Ultimately, it's the older and wiser that ends up being the voice of reason in this. This episode features a sadly rare occurence that the Professor actually acting like the respectful father figure he should be, being the voice of reason to his children. Even the soundless slippers gag plays into the "inventor" angle they have been, which is far closer to his character in the original than the "out of touch Sitcom Dad" I am far too familiar with.

Unfortunately, Blossom and Buttercup aren't there to witness this, as they are too busy with the Harmadillo again. Having been fed up about his constant whining, they decide that the best way to deal with him is to have Blossom tie him up in an aura net. Maybe it's a hammock, I don't know. They then make a combined aura of a stapler with a knife attached to the end. Considering we can't even show someone getting punched in this series unless its the girls getting punched, someone has to stop them.

It just so happens to be Bubbles, having her spirits slightly lifted from "not doing anything" by what is implied to be a speech from the father figure. Because the Harmadillo is having some emotional issues of his own, they are able to bond with each other. It may seem like this was a missed opportunity for the "talking to animals" power, but it would have done more harm than good.

Because Buttercup can't let a touching scene be, she starts to panic over the disease spreading. She then makes a chainsaw aura, persumably to cut both the armadillo and her own sister into little bits. I stand corrected: there is a worse way to deal with depression than telling them they're only doing it for attention. Blossom stops her, and tells her that maybe the real problem is that they decided not to listen to her. What an understatement.

This episode almost ends with this shot, which is a very good way to end an episode about feelings. It’s a quiet moment of them looking at the ocean. Before this episode, PPG 2016 seemingly had no clue on how to end an episode with a calm moment. Unfortunately, this episode does not disprove that.

Buttercup: I’m bored, what are we looking at?

(Blossom punches Buttercup into the water)

A deserved punishment, sure, but it was completely unnecessary. We can only hope the oceans also acts as holy water.

Does the title fit?

The title works as a pun; Bubbles happens to be the blue one, and she’s feeling blue.

How does it stack up?

I knew we were going to get some sort of "special episode" on a serious topic, and even the original can fail at such episodes. In the case of this episode, Bubbles The Blue actually handles the topic rather well, far better than I would ever expect out of this show.

There are problems that prevent this from being among the absolute least worst episodes; the episode had a tendency to repeat itself, the soundless slippers gag never amounted to anything, and Buttercup's antics are disturbing at worst and unnecessary at best.

Despite that, this episode goes in directions few reboot episodes do, and I have to commend it for that.

Next, I don't think Mary Poppins could fix this reboot's problems.

← Derby Dollies ☆ Deb O’Nair →

#fpb ppg 2016 #ppg 2016 #powerpuff girls #cartoon network #fpb reviews

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whoatemykettlecorn · 6 years

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BoJack Horseman: The Most Underrated Satirical Netflix Series

He’s half horse, half man and to me, all the rage. It has surprisingly been four years since I stumbled upon this crazy Netflix original, BoJack Horseman, in which the main character of the same name, struggles with his sad reality 20 years after his hit sitcom, Horsing Around, and the fame with it fades, leading him to write a biography. If you like mainstream media and more sarcasm than you thought you could possibly hear in a 26-minute interval, this show is what you should’ve started binge-watching yesterday.

This adult animated series, which takes place in Hollywoo (no, I did not misspell that) is full of famous cast members. Some you might have forgotten about, but know that they are still alive and funny as ever. The main voice cast consists of Will Arnett as BoJack, Alison Brie as Diane Nguyen (the reporter that follows BoJack around in order to write a book about him), Amy Sedaris as Princess Carolyn (BoJack’s agent and former lover) and Aaron Paul as Todd Chavez (BoJack’s somewhat hobo of a friend). Although most of the characters above play animated humans, there are also other people who are like BoJack, half animal/ half human. Mr. Peanutbutter, for example, is a golden retriever with human characteristics and BoJack’s television rival. Many of these character’s stories are also followed whether they involve BoJack or not.

The first season will have you rewinding scenes because it was too funny the first time to just watch it once. Like my favorite scene where BoJack is trying to get attention by dumping a bag of $1 bills from the top of a building but the people don’t care because “dollar bills are for poor people”. Just as the news crew is about to leave, Beyoncé walks past singing and slips on the money, hurting her ankle. Roll in all the Beyoncé/ Destiny’s Child references as possible, “Ring the alarm, irreplaceable pop icon and independent woman Beyonce has been injured… ‘We are told that she fell on all the single dollars.’ ‘All the single dollars?’ ‘All the single dollars.’ ‘Bills. Bills. Bills.’”

The second season gets serious, very quickly when BoJack starts filming his dream role Secretariat which he bonds with more than he thought. This season is almost depressing but that’s only because it strikes a big enough nerve that anyone can really relate to it. Like when a bamboo running finds BoJack on the ground trying to get his breath back says, “Everyday it gets a little easier. But you’ve got to do it every day. That’s the hard part. But it does get easier.”

The third season comes back with the laughs while still dealing with the real daily problems adults face in a world where you must realize that life goes on with or without you, while promoting his Secretariat film. The last season plays with the ramifications of BoJack’s reckless actions of his past while satirizing politics and hot button issues that have been seen on the news time and time again lately.

In Season 3, a big topic that made me feel guilty about laughing at was pro-choice or pro-life when a pop star had false scare through social media but rolled with it by making a song. This season, the topic is gun violence and the power it gives men and women or lack thereof, showing that the government would rather ban gun rights than let women use it. Despite these topics being broad and debated about since the beginning of time, the show makes it so that the audience can have a more open opinion on the matters through laughter.

A reason for believing that BoJack Horseman is underrated is how they demonstrate a person’s mental state. Although, I feel like mental instabilities are becoming more mainstream in television (thanks to Netflix’s 13 Reasons Why) and grabbing more attention, it also does it from more than one perspective with a different tone to each. As the more-than-chipper Golden Retriever Mr. Peanutbutter told his wife Diane, “The universe is a cruel, uncaring void. The key to being happy isn’t a search for meaning. It’s to just keep yourself busy with unimportant nonsense, and eventually, you’ll be dead.” Or even coming from a teens perspective, Hollyhock asks Bojack, “Like, sometimes I have this tiny voice in the back of my head that goes, like, ‘Hey, everyone hates you! And they’re not wrong to feel that way!’ […] That voice, the one that tells you you’re worthless and stupid and ugly? It goes away, right? It’s just, like, a dumb teenage-girl thing, but then it goes away?” No matter how grim those quotes might sound, the writers of BoJack Horseman have a way of making you think about such grand themes of life in the most subtle ways. It makes you, the audience member, appreciate the show a little bit more each episode and that is why, four years later, I continue to keep up with a show that doesn’t get the buzz that it deserves.

#bojack horseman #diane nguyen #mr peanutbutter #netflix #review

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applecreatesgravity · 4 years

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Pop culture-Meme

Popular culture is generally recognized by members of a society as a set of practices, beliefs, and objects that are dominant or widespread in a society at a particular point in time. For instance, American rap culture and McDonaldization. However, the rise of digital technology and the Internet has unexpectedly spawned a new form of weird and “stupid” culture media: The Internet meme.

The term “meme” was originally derived from the book “The Selfish Gene” (1989) by British scientist Richard Dawkins, which means” the natural human spreading, replication and modification of ideas and culture” (192-195). Therefore, a meme can technically be any form of information that can be transferred but depending on the mechanisms of digital and Internet technology, it is generally conceived to be an extremely contagious and often very humorous part of Internet culture that can sometimes generate enough hype to break into mainstream popular culture(Chen,2012).

In modern popular discourse, Internet memes can be funny quotes, silly captioned pictures (or image macros), animated GIF, riffs on popular culture and viral videos that are created, discovered and shared among Internet users.

The initial purpose of creating memes was a form of visual entertainment that online communities,such as 4chan and 9GAG, used to deliver humour and sarcasm. One of the significant internet memes is “LOLcat”, the combination of LOL (laugh out loud) and cat. It typically looked like this:

However, with the widespread and growing popularity of Internet Meme among internet users, it has gradually become a necessary part of commercialization online. Indeed, the effect of digital media has been providing many possibilities for big companies, not only to entertain their audiences, but also to pique users’ interests, facilitate discussions and share on social media, increase brand recall, raise brand awareness and also increase the click-through rates.

One of the most significant Internet phenomena was “All your base are belong to us” a meme that forested from broken English translated opening cutscene of the 1989 arcade shooter game Zero Wing. Within a day, the phrase became one of the most request term on internet search engines across the world. Soon, street signs, restaurant awnings, cinema fronts, advertising, cartoons, T-shirt, tattoos, golf balls inserted into turtles, all bearing this new phrase (Johnston,2001).

Due to the rapid development of the Internet today, different memes have proliferated and then disappeared within a very short period of time, almost all meme generations have emerged as “zero-wing” memes. More details shown in the video:

youtube

As a highly postmodern tendency, a meme has become the symbolic culture of meta-imitation and self-parody that exist in our daily life. Despite many reports having to explain the meme culture to the public, such as the real meaning behind arson frog and “OK boomer”, and constant worry among the scientists that meme may desaturate the traditional culture and ethics (Grimes,2010), but who cares?

I mean, for ironic or commercial purposes, or to be seen as a “weird” approach by other generations, the only reason behind the popularity of memetic culture is that it entertains us and we enjoy it.

Words: 510

Reference:

Chen, C. (2012). The Creation and Meaning of Internet Meme in 4chan: Popular Internet Culture in the Age of Online Digital Reproduction. HABITUS. P7-19.

Dawkins, R. (1989). The selfish gene. Oxford University Press, USA. P192-195.

Grime, T. C. (2010), The world is out of control: Nimrod Antal’s Komtroll (2003) as a socio-political critique of powerless individual in a postmodern world, Studies in European Cinema7:3, pp.235-245, doi:10.1386/seci.7.3.235_1

Johnston, R. (2001 February 28). All your base… The Guardian. Retrieved from: https://www.theguardian.com/technology/2001/feb/28/internetnews.g2 [22 May 2020]

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geekekitten · 7 years

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Last Man Standing: Witty, meet Wise

So since this is probably my favorite sitcom I figured I really should do a review of it. I have watched through all 6 seasons multiple times (you can watch all of the seasons on Hulu or up to season 5 on Netflix). Here’s the hitch though: this show got cancelled in May. Despite really solid ratings, ABC has given it the axe. But hope is not completely lost--this show might still get picked up by someone else. Here’s hoping.

So here’s the run down. Last Man Standing is a sitcom about a nuclear family consisting of the two parents (the father being Tim Allen, of course) and three girls and all the growing pains that come along with being a family with three daughters. The three girls are all VERY different, which makes things more entertaining. The oldest is a bit of a black sheep because she got pregnant while still in high school and has political views that are starkly different from her father’s. The middle child is an absolute diva and air-head but is actually REALLY talented and funny. The youngest is a hardcore tomboy/daddy’s girl who really admires her father and pretty much parrots his political views and beliefs. In typical Tim Allen fashion the father is full of sarcasm, wit and wisdom. The mother (not familiar with the actress Nancy Travis but she does really well) is smart, loving, cracks ridiculously corny jokes all the time, is awkward about heavy subjects like racism, and stays vague about her political views. Although these are the main characters, the other characters are actually really great and add a lot to the show. The owner of the Outdoor Man franchise where Tim Allen, aka Mike Baxter, works brings a lot of humor to the show. Hector Elizondo (another actor I’m unfamiliar with) plays Ed Alzate and he never disappoints. Another great character is Kyle (played by Christoph Sanders...seriously do I only know Tim Allen in this show?) He is precious, to say the least. He can be so stupid at times, well actually at most times, but he is very sweet and the combination just makes him adorable.

One of the things I absolutely love about this show is its “shout outs” to other Tim Allen flicks. They really don’t shy away about these references and it’s great. From Toy Story to Galaxy Quest to Home Improvement, its all there and deeply appreciated. They even have special guest appearances from several members of the Home Improvement cast, Dirty Jobs Mike Rowe, and Jay Leno! Actually Jay Leno kind of became a regular cast member. Surprisingly, it works. Another thing I like is that this show is totally OK with making fun of itself. I really admire a source of media (whether its a tv show, a book, a song, whatever) that can make fun of itself and be totally cool with it. Its OK as long as we’re laughing with you.

I’m not going to say this is the most original sitcom I’ve ever seen cause it’s not, and sitcoms really aren’t that original as a genre. But what I will say is its definitely one of the funniest sitcoms I’ve seen. If you enjoy family shows like Everybody Loves Raymond or even less family friendly ones like Friends you’ll probably appreciate this one. It’s a nice blend of family morals and borderline inappropriate humor, delivered in subtle enough ways that it’ll go over the young viewers heads. Think Shrek, in terms of how humor is handled. The adults will get all the references and play-on words and dirty jokes, the kids will be clueless. As it should be.

You should know the drill by now, I don’t get too specific because I hate spoilers and I keep things brief because people now-a-days don’t like to read a lot! I know if you want in-depth reviews you’re just gonna pop onto Youtube. So if this sounds interesting to you, check it out! If nothing else, you’ll get some laughs out of it for sure.

#tv show reviews #last man standing review #last man standing

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consultthemuses · 7 years

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Sentence Meme: 170 Buffy Summers Quotes

Some will be more easily applicable than others. SOME WILL CONTAIN TRIGGERS (violence/blood mentions/supernatural references)!! Feel free to change pronouns/genders at will.

❛ Darn your sinister attraction. ❜

❛ You stabbed [name] to death. What were you trying to do, scratch his back from the front? ❜

❛ Judgemental? If I was any more open-minded about the choices you two make, my whole brain would fall out. ❜

❛ TV is a good thing. Bright colours. Music. Tiny little people. ❜

❛ They never just leave. Always gotta say something. ❜

❛ Oh come on! Stake through the heart, a little sunlight, it's like falling off a log. ❜

❛ I have no time for orders. ❜

❛ [name], when you tried to be head cheerleader, you were bad. When you tried to chair the Homecoming committee, you were really bad. But when you try to be bad ... you suck. ❜

❛ You said it was big. You told me, but you never said it was huge! ❜

❛ He's 243 years old. He doesn't exactly get the prom. ❜

❛ So I'm treated like the baddie, just because he has a sprained wrist and a bloody nose...and I don't have a scratch on me. Which, granted, hurts my case a little, on the surface. ❜

❛ I don't have time for vendettas. The mission is what matters. ❜

❛ What I want is the [name] that's dangerous. The [name] that tried to kill me when we met. ❜

❛ Sex and death and love and pain -- it's all the same damn thing to you. ❜

❛ Have you completely lost your mind? ❜

❛ I'm not just some crazy person. I'm the Slayer! ❜

❛ You named your stake? Remind me to get you a stuffed animal. ❜

❛ I'm sixteen years old. I don't wanna die. ❜

❛ It's all [name]’s fault. She's like poison. No, worse, she's like acid that eats through everything. Maybe she's a bomb. ❜

❛ You know, you really should watch your language. Someone didn't know you, they might think you were a woman-hating jerk. ❜

❛ The least you could do is exhibit some casual interest; you can go hmm. ❜

❛ You sounded like Mr. Initiative. Demons bad. People good. ❜

❛ See, I didn't think this was a popularity contest. I should have equal time to bake them cookies, braid their hair.. ❜

❛ There is something bad down here. Possibly everything bad. ❜

❛ [name] is not dangerous. Something happened to him that wasn't his fault. God, I never knew you were such a bigot. ❜

❛ My diary? You read my diary? That is not okay! A diary is like a person's most private place! ❜

❛ A bad omen and we just ignore it? There's going to be a lot of red faces when the world comes to an end. ❜

❛ Good.'Cause I've had it. [name] is going down. You can attack me, you can send assassins after me, that's fine. But nobody messes with my boyfriend! ❜

❛ This is [name]. He's um.. It's a really long story b-but he's not bad anymore. ❜

❛ I don't want any trouble. I just want to be alone and quiet in a room with a chair and a fireplace and a tea cozy. I don't even know what a tea cozy is, but I want one. ❜

❛ Say it's true. Say I do want to... it wouldn't be you, [name]. It would never be you. You're beneath me. ❜

❛ I don't know what's coming next. But I do know it's gonna be just like this -- hard, painful. But in the end, it's gonna be us. If we all do our parts, believe it, we'll be the ones left standing. ❜

❛ Best of all... I'm not stupid. ❜

❛ Anyone else who wants to run... do it now. Because we just became an army. We just declared war. From now on we won't just face our worst fears, we will seek them out. ❜

❛ Look, I broke a nail, ok? I'm wearing a press-on. ❜

❛ So, what I'm wondering is, does this always happen? Sleep with a guy and he goes all evil? ❜

❛ I'm going to give you all a nice, fun, normal evening, if I have to kill every single person on the face of the earth to do it. ❜

❛ It was exactly you, [name], every detail. Except for your not being a dominatrix. As far as we know. ❜

❛ I see one more display of testosterone-poisoning, and I will personally put you both in the hospital. ❜

❛ I'm beyond tired. I'm beyond scared. I'm standing on the mouth of hell, and it's going to swallow me whole. And it'll choke on me. ❜

❛ I was just thinking about the life of a pumpkin. Grow up in the sun, happily entwined with others, and then someone comes along, cuts you open, and rips your guts out. ❜

❛ Oh! That's my skirt! You're never gonna fit in it with those hips. We have to kill them! ❜

❛ I hate it when they drown me. ❜

❛ Okay, I'm cookie dough. I'm not done baking. I'm not finished becoming whatever the hell it is I'm gonna turn out to be. ❜

❛ I'm looking for this guy. Bleach-blond hair, leather jacket, British accent, kind of... sallow? But in a hot way? ❜

❛ Death is what a slayer breathes, what a slayer dreams about when she sleeps. ❜

❛ A flare gun? If I find [name], I'm staking him, not signalling ships at sea. ❜

❛ It's my first day! I was afraid that I was gonna be behind in all my classes, that I wouldn't make any friends, that I would have last month's hair. I didn't think there'd be vampires on campus! ❜

❛ There's only one thing on this earth more powerful than evil. And that's us. ❜

❛ The fast-growing field of personal grooming has come a long way since you became a vampire. ❜

❛ The whole earth may be sucked into hell, and you want my help 'cause your girlfriend's a big 'ho? Well, let me take this opportunity to not care. ❜

❛ You have fruit punch mouth. ❜

❛ You smell this bad when you were alive? ❜

❛ [name]’s a vampire? She must be dying without a reflection. ❜

❛ What kind of girl travels with a mummified corpse? And doesn't even pack a lipstick? ❜

❛ If I need someone to scream like a woman I'll give you a call. ❜

❛ Well, a man that worships chaos and tries to kill you is a man you can trust. ❜

❛ I accidentally killed [name]! That's okay, right? ❜

❛ That'll be then. When I'm done. ❜

❛ Do you have everything? Books? Lunch? Stakes? ❜

❛ I'm the thing that monsters have nightmares about. And right now, you and me are gonna show 'em why. ❜

❛ I'm the one that dates dead guys. And, no offence, but they were hotties. ❜

❛ I haven't processed everything yet. My brain isn't really functioning on the higher levels. It's pretty much fire bad; tree pretty. ❜

❛ Hey! Remember this? I took it from [name]. Stuck it in her gut. Just slid in her like she was butter. You wanna get it back from me? Dick? ❜

❛ You know. No kick-o, no fight-o. ❜

❛ [name] has minions? ❜

❛ Oh yes! Like how the cow and the chicken come together even though they've never met. It's like Sleepless in Seattle if, if Meg and Tom were, like, minced. ❜

❛ What was the highlight of our relationship -- when you broke up with me, or when I killed you? ❜

❛ You're right. He's manipulative and shallow... and why doesn't he want me? Am I so repulsive? If there was something repulsive about me, you'd tell me, right? ❜

❛ We're not ready? They're not ready. They think we're gonna wait for the end to come, like we always do. I'm done waiting. They want an apocalypse? Oh, we'll give 'em one. ❜

❛ You had sex with [name]? You had sex with [NAME]? ❜

❛ Sorry, [name]. Changed the locks. ❜

❛ Besides, I look cute in a tiara. ❜

❛ Oh, [name]! Of course it's yes! ❜

❛ I'll end up an old lady who can only live with cats. ❜

❛ Okay, I was hoping to not get that cynical till I was at least forty. ❜

❛ I don't have time for bondage fun. ❜

❛ She knows about viscera. Makes you proud. ❜

❛ They were supposed to be my light at the end of the tunnel. I guess they were a train. ❜

❛ It was terrible. I moped over you for months, sitting in my room, listening to that Divinyls song "I Touch Myself".. of course, I had no idea what it was about. ❜

❛ I'm working. Go away. ❜

❛ The one who, according to [name], is the, quote: "smartest, funniest, coolest, hottest, and having the thickest boy eyelashes boy in school," and quote. ❜

❛ I just saw you taste your own nose blood. You know what? I'm too grossed out to hear anything you have to say! ❜

❛ Pop culture reference. Sorry. ❜

❛ How can you tell me you understand what those vampires are feeling? You aren't a passion to them, you are a snack! A willing, idiotic snack. ❜

❛ You want credit for not feeding on bleeding disaster victims? ❜

❛ Let me answer that question with a head-butt. ❜

❛ Right now you're asking yourself, "What makes this different? What makes us anything more than a bunch of girls being picked off one by one? ❜

❛ I-I was... just thinking, wouldn't it be funny some time to see each other when it wasn't a blood thing.. ❜

❛ Will you just hold me? ❜

❛ If it's possible, you seem more monosyllabic than usual. ❜

❛ I'm just worried this whole session's gonna turn into some training montage from an 80's movie. ❜

❛ How do you get to be renowned? I mean, like, do you have to be nowned first? ❜

❛ Not too crazy? Those are your credentials? ❜

❛ I can fool [name], and I can fool my friends, but I can't fool myself. Or [name], for some reason. What I want from you I can never have. ❜

❛ Nooo... I think you're up in the clocktower with a high-powered rifle because you wanna blend in. ❜

❛ You've awakened the prom-queen within. And that crown is going to be mine. ❜

❛ I'm pretty spry for a corpse. ❜

❛ Oh, look at my poor neck... all bare and tender and exposed. All that blood, just pumping away. ❜

❛ This is a beautiful moment we're having. Can we please fight? ❜

❛ And the thing is, I like my evil like I like my men - evil. You know, straight up, black hat, tied to the train tracks, 'soon my electro-ray will destroy Metropolis' bad. ❜

❛ We can't actually do any of those things. You'd lose your soul, and besides, I don't even own a kimono. ❜

❛ Doesn't matter how well prepped you are, or how well armed you are. You're a little girl. ❜

❛ Repeat until insane. ❜

❛ You're in love with pain. Admit it. ❜

❛ What are you doing here? Five words or less. ❜

❛ [name] seems so solid. Like.. he wouldn't cause me heartache. ❜

❛ Okay, a scenario: you back off, I'll back off, but you promise not to go all wiggy until we can go to my Watcher and figure this out. ❜

❛ [name], your mouth is open, sound is coming from it. This is never good. ❜

❛ Can a vampire ever be a good person? Couldn't it happen? ❜

❛ I don't know. I kinda' see [name] as the loyal type. ❜

❛ No, [name], it's not you. You're the one freaky thing in my freaky world that still makes sense to me. ❜

❛ Sarcasm accomplishes nothing, [name]. ❜

❛ You're disgusting. ❜

❛ Well, we'll fix it. We'll hit serious research mode. ❜

❛ Every year, my Dad buys me cotton candy and one of those souvenir programs that has all the pictures. ❜

❛ Now might be a good time for your trademark stoicism. ❜

❛ So I told him that I loved him...and I kissed him.. and I killed him. ❜

❛ I'm getting better, honest. In fact, from here on, you're going to see a drastic distraction reduction. Drastic distraction reduction... try saying that ten times fast. ❜

❛ [name] and I are getting married! ❜

❛ We're going to the magic shop. No school supplies there. ❜

❛ [name] tried to kill me! ❜

❛ So you haven't murdered anybody lately? Let's be best pals! ❜

❛ I may be dead, but I'm still pretty. Which is more than I can say for you. ❜

❛ This is not gonna' be pretty. We're talkin' violence, strong language, adult content. ❜

❛ I have to get away from that 'bad boy' thing. There's no good there. ❜

❛ Exactly. I'm sure [name] is flogging and punishing himself.. This is sounding wrong before I even finish.. ❜

❛ I just don't want you to get your hopes up. ❜

❛ Oh, time has no meaning here. ❜

❛ Does Elvis talk to you? Does he tell you to do things? Do you see spots? ❜

❛ Right. I'm the chosen one. And I choose to be shopping. ❜

❛ Just look at you, [name]. Less than 24 hours ago you killed a man. And now it's all zip-a-dee-doo-dah? ❜

❛ You had to tie me up to beat me. There's a word for people like you, [name]: loser. ❜

❛ Hey! I was intimidating here. ❜

❛ I know you guys think it's just a big, dumb, girlie thing, but it's not. I mean, a lot of those skaters are Olympic medal winners. ❜

❛ Yeah, just see him in a relationship. 'Hi, honey. You're in grave danger. I'll see you next month! ❜

❛ We're not friends. We never were. ❜

❛ Sure. We saved the world, I say we party. ❜

❛ Great. My secret weapon is PMS. That's just terrific. Thanks for telling me. ❜

❛ You have a lot to learn about women.. ❜

❛ Aren't you going to introduce me to your... Holy God, you're [name]! ❜

❛ I got older. ❜

❛ Yeah, I'm also a person. You can't just define me by my Slayerness. That's... something-ism. ❜

❛ My boyfriend had a bicentennial. ❜

❛ Boy, you've really thought this through. How bored were you last year? ❜

❛ This.. is not your business. It's mine. ❜

❛ Hey, the way things were going, be glad that's the worst that happened. At least I got to the two of you before you actually did something. ❜

❛ Come on, you've been dating for what, like 200 years? You don't know what a girl means when she says maybe she'll show. ❜

❛ Well, when you've been around since Columbus, you're bound to pile up a few exes. ❜

❛ D'you have any gum? ❜

❛ You know, I know what that looks like, but I-I swear it's not what it looks like. It's magic weed. It's not mine. ❜

❛ I didn't even break a nail. ❜

❛ God, [name], is that all you think about? ❜

❛ [name] didn't set this up. [name] did. This is the wrapping for the gift. ❜

❛ You're older than him, right? Just between us girls, you are looking a little worn around the eyes. ❜

❛ Mom, I'm a Vampire Slayer. ❜

❛ You know, nothing's really going to change. The important thing is that I kept up my special birthday tradition of gut-wrenching misery and horror. ❜

❛ I think I speak for everyone here when I say, 'Huh?'. ❜

❛ Guys. The environment. I'm telling you, it's totally key. The earth is in terrible shape, we could all die. ❜

❛ Unfortunately, that's all I could get out of my informant before his aggressive tendencies forced me to introduce him to Mr. Pointy. ❜

❛ You know what? I like the look. It's um, it's extreme, but it looks good, you know, it's a leather thing. And, uh, I said extreme already, didn't I? ❜

❛ What about me? I love you so much. And I tried to make you go away. I killed you and it didn't help. And I hate it! ❜

❛ It's a stupid dance with stupid people I see every stupid day! ❜

❛ My Dorothy Hamill phase. My room in LA was pretty much a shrine. Dorothy dolls, Dorothy posters. I even got the Dorothy haircut, thereby securing a place for myself in the Geek Hall of Fame. ❜

❛ Guys, I think reality stepped out of here about five minutes ago. ❜

❛ There are two things that I don't believe in: coincidence and leprechauns. ❜

❛ I thought a professional demon chaser like yourself would've figured it out by now. ❜

❛ You know, if you're not too busy having sex with my MOTHER! ❜

❛ Don't worry. They can't come in unless they're invited. ❜

❛ They were powerful men. This woman is more powerful than all of them combined. ❜

#ask memes #ask box #meme #tw: violence #tw: blood #tw: supernatural

129 notes · View notes

theklancecollection · 7 years

Text

Klance May Reads (May 1st, 2017 - May 31st, 2017)

Below the cut are 113 fics that I have read this month.

I was planning on doing monthly updates but clearly this is too long. So I will be sticking with weekly updates instead.

I will put up a separate recommendations page tomorrow.

three minutes to closing - Yuisaki

“So you don’t know his name,” Pidge says slowly. “And he says meme-y things. And he always comes in three minutes before closing, and—”

“Always leaves on the dot,” Keith adds. “And uh, he never orders the same thing twice in a row.”

Pidge’s face is blank. “A customer who leaves at nine on the dot and never orders the same thing twice in a row,” she repeats. She opens her mouth, closes it, and taps at the screen of her tablet, hopping off the counter. “I’ll just tell everyone I didn’t get the answer out of you.”

“Pidge,” Keith protests. “I mean it.”

“And I think you have a cryptid customer,” Pidge says.

(or: eccentricities in a small coffee shop where a cuban boy with cute dimples only exists three minutes to closing.)

you had me at merlot - ryomakun

“Oh my God,” Lance says as he covers his face. Keith’s tinny voice blares from his laptop speakers: “What do you call a fake noodle? An impasta.” See, this joke might have been funny if someone charismatic and charming had said it, but Keith’s flat voice and even flatter expression effectively kidnaps, tortures, and then decapitates any chance of it being remotely humorous.

Keith accidentally starts a YouTube channel. Lance, of course, refuses to be left out. It goes about as well as you'd expect. (Ft. copious amounts of wine and a truly shameless number of references to MyDrunkKitchen, DailyGrace, and general pop culture)

Ascension - Gigapoodle

Four times where Lance feels insecure, and one time where Keith has had enough.

My Play Toy - Mackenzie_Kogane_McClain

Lotor is in his brain. The binds are too strong and everyone's watching him strain. Secrets are out. His heart is gone.

The Desert is a Thirsty Motherfucker - Graceless_Grace

The paladins get stuck on a desert planet and Lance, being the self-sacrificing idiot he is, gives away his water, sip by sip. Consequences suck, don't they? Even with the best intentions, the desert still suck the life out of Lance.

McDonald's Anyone? - AnimeROL

It started as most things seem to with us: a challenge and a scheme. I mean, who hasn’t ever dreamed of motorizing a shopping cart to take through McDonald’s drive thru at 2am?

Lance Gets Hot And Horny And Boy Does Keith Notice - TasteTheRainbow_BeTheRainbow

The team is put into a situation as if they were being attacked by the Galra. And honestly, they flunked it. So Allura calls a meeting but Lance is otherwise distracted by a certain Omega bodily process. He tries to leave undetected but Keith is a little more observant than others.

supermassive black hole - epiproctan

Keith has always known that he wasn’t going to get what he truly wants out of the arrangement, but he also hadn’t ever imagined that it would just…end.

aka that classic fic where lance wants to stop hooking up but keith wants something else entirely

i forgive you - willobean

"i forgive you"

Such happy memories tied to those three words before the fateful day where everything came crashing down around Keith like a tsunami.

the potential of you and me - Katranga

“And then other times,” Lance said. “I’m just, like, dying to know what a mouth would feel like around my dick.” Keith choked on air and said, with absolutely no go-ahead from his brain, “I have a mouth.” Half-laughing, Lance said, “Is that an offer?” He pushed his wet hair out of his eyes. His throat was dry. “Is that an acceptance?” -- The summer after freshman year of college, Lance drags Keith back to their hometown to hang out. But the two of them rarely spend time together without Hunk and Pidge around, because things had a way of getting out of hand real quick. This summer is... no different.

spin and twist - checkmateslash

“I think Keith is into you. He started blushing when Pidge and I brought up you giving him a lap dance.”

Lance flushed then, because they had been talking about Lance while he wasn’t there and it was about something he hardly remembered.

“I don’t even remember that, Hunk,” he grumbled, though his face was hot and he knew it was no use.

“You could see his boner through his jeans.”

“Can you stop?”

Lance thought about that conversation a lot. He thought about it every time he ran into Keith at the gym, remembers the conversation being too casual as he fiddled with his messy hair and pretended not to be flustered when Keith mentioned that they needed to hang out more. Remembered wishing he were brave enough to ask Keith out so he could either get rejected and get over it or start something. Remembered trying desperately not to blush when Keith came down to the lower level of the gym and asked Lance to hold his feet while he did sit-ups. Tried hard not to remember the lap dance while he was doing so, but even consciously trying not to think about it was still thinking about it.

Isn't this what you wanted? - Cutekittenlady

After a failed rescue attempt, Keith and Lance are subjucated to the will of their captor.

Love Bites and Banter - inkbadger

They just can't help but banter during sex- it's who they are.

Of course, some days Lance definitely regrets teaching Keith the subtle arts of sarcasm.

wrong in the dark - fickleauthor

All his life, Lance has been groomed to be one half of a bridge between two alien races — a merging of families that will bring about an end to a bitter centuries-old feud. He’s carried this weight upon his shoulders with a grace he feels he can and should be proud of, considering he never asked for such a heavy responsibility. He never asked for his life to be mapped out in such bold, rigid lines that stretch into a future he can see all too clearly: when he reaches maturity, he’ll be bound to the Crown Prince of the Galra empire for the rest of their lives.

And so he lets himself be swept away by the tides of fate — save for for one night, the night before the bonding ceremony, when he sneaks out and has an encounter with a stranger that threatens to upend him from the path he was meant to walk.

blame it on patron - pastelshan

One smack of his lips, and Keith felt his mouth fill with cotton. Tongues weren’t supposed to feel like that, were they? All heavy and gross. He scowled, sending a sideways, drunk glance Lance’s way. Did his feel like this?

Was there really only one way to find out?

Stupid Hair, Stupid Coffee - shaqfu

The only way to cope with midterms was coffee and maybe being mean to your beautiful barista.

That One Time You Saw Me Dancing In My Underwear - Quiznak

Lance's mysterious neighbor plays his music too loud so he tries to get revenge.

Then Who's Flying the Lion? - senpai_desu_desu

Shiro suggests Keith gives Lance a few pointers when piloting his lion, and he obliges, much to Lance's dismay... or delight? Not even Lance knows.

Kiss Me If You Want Me - Barkour

Lance has an epiphany and Keith makes a confession. Also, they fuck.

hypothetically - starsupernova

Keith wonders how he fell in love with someone like this. He’d never really been into anyone in his life until he met Lance in freshman year. Sure, it had started off as a rivalry, mostly through the baseball team, but Keith had slowly grown to appreciate Lance, in both the looks and personality departments.

And it’s not like the attraction is decreasing now that their junior years have just ended. In fact, it’s even stronger than before.

The first time Keith ever falls in love, it's with someone practically unobtainable. Typical.

The Jacket - shark_meat

Lance find's Keith after a long training session and shows a touch of kindness towards his "rival." It seems to backfire once the teasing starts, but maybe Keith will reciprocate the kindness after-all.

Somewhere On A Beach - smilemylove

Lance comes to Keith expressing feelings of missing Team Voltron, so Keith offers to take him out on a ride to help get his mind off things. Along the way, the two come to realize that maybe Lance wasn't being entirely honest with his feelings.

Bonding - Quiznak

Lance and Keith bond.

I got my ship stolen, my dignity taken, and what do I have to show for it? - noumenon

“Looks like you hit on the wrong person, huh, Lance?” Keith chuckled.

“Could you stop being a jerk for I dunno, five seconds and just help me out here?" Lance snapped. "This isn’t nearly as much fun without a hot girl with me. I mean seriously! I’m chained up, Blue got stolen, and worst of all I didn’t even kiss out of all this!”

bench press me - eggboi

“The hell are you doing?” Keith grumbles out, body mid-push up. There’s a snicker behind him, too close to his ears, though Keith can’t really understand what would be so amusing about this. Then again, he’s not really sure why Lance is lying on him while he’s doing push ups either. Other than to be, of course, annoying.

“Nothing.” Lance finally says. Keith hears the grin in his voice, which only proves to irritate him a little more. ‘Nothing’ his ass. “Continue with what you’re doing, Mr. ‘I’m-Too-Good-For-Socialization’.”

(Lance, as always, tries to annoy Keith by making his exercise harder. It doesn’t work. At all.)

Miscommunication and failures - Lance by mikuridaigo

tumblr prompt: does the “i slept with you the other day and i didnt know we had a mutual friend and now we’re sitting across each other for brunch and it’s awkward because i ran out when you were asleep” au exist bc i need that fic

When Hunk called the Sunday before the spring quarter began, asking if he wanted to grab brunch with him, Lance said yes; and when Hunk called again, saying that his friend was joining at the last second, Lance didn’t think anything of it.

Until said friend was the best sex he’s ever had.

Basically Lance is a screw up and fixing this mess was probably going to kill him

Disatrophe (I like it rough) by mikuridaigo

“Is this how you usually pick up guys?”

“No, I start with a great opener. Like,” Lance pointed his fingers like a gun, “‘hey, you a magician? Because when I look at you, everyone else disappears’.”

A companion piece to Miscommunication and failures by Lance with Keith's perspective to how he and Lance slept together that night.

Translation, Please by mochimistress

Keith had no idea what Lance was saying, but he was going to find out.

a change of space by Crawlingthroughashes

"I don't want to kiss you," Lance announces quickly, color rising high on his cheeks. "Ok." "I don't." Keith holds his hands up. "Ok." Stupid Keith.

Change of Pace by needchocolatenow

It was supposed to be an easy mission: a Galra base that was, for all intents and purposes, abandoned on a primitive planet. Get in, download the base's info logs, get out. Simple.

Of course, when Lance realized he was going to be put together with Keith on this mission, simple went out the window.

thread our way through a string of stars - steelthighsvoideyes

Lance is a humble astrophysics student trying to conduct research, which turns out to be a bit difficult to do when he finds a strange guy sitting in his customary research spot. A strange guy looking for aliens, no less.

Lance isn't going to stand for this.

One Cup Of Jealousy, Please - UnheardCries

Lance and Keith are two best friend dorks, but when Lance decides to go get coffee at a new cafe that opened, with his best friend, he may realize two emotions he never thought he would feel towards his best friend, love and jealousy.

Blue - princevince

He'd always taken the presence of the color blue for granted. He wished he hadn't. God, he wished he hadn't.

Like Ice Over Fire - CuriousRebel

Lance gets himself into a spot of trouble (against orders) and Keith comes to save him (against orders).

you mark everything i do - steelthighsvoideyes

Some people do ridiculous things when they're in love, like trip over nothing and faceplant into the pie they're holding, or get tattoos of each other's names in tacky hearts on their arms.

Lance and Keith get each other's paladin symbols tattooed over their hearts.

bouncing off exit signs - steelthighsvoideyes

This is the story of two absolute idiots who keep searching for what they've already found.

Cheeky - rideahorse

Keith pinches his eyes shut, slamming the book down again and swiveling to face Lance. “Oh my god,” he groans, standing up and crossing the two feet between them before Lance can get out a word. He grabs Lance’s face between his hands (perhaps a bit rougher than needed, but hey, he’s always wanted to slap Lance’s stupid face) and the last thing he sees is an expression of pure surprise before he leans down and presses his lips against Lance's.

It’s a peck, and it lasts a second, and then it’s over. Keith leans back, releasing Lance’s face, and hisses, “There.”

All The Stars In The Universe - jamwrites

After being rescued from capture by the Galra Empire, Lance isn't the same. He's silent. Reserved. Broken. But Keith won't accept this; every night, he comes to talk to Lance. Every night, he attempts to fix what is broken, and tonight may be his last chance.

(based off (with permission) an idea by legendarydragondefender and khlance on tumblr.)

An A+ For Trying - sailingskies

Keith and Lance stumble around with their almost painfully obvious feelings, and Pidge and Hunk are forced to watch the impending spectacle that unfolds.

and i'll keep you a daydream away - maradyer (ashtxns)

“He’s killing me,” Lance groans, head in his hands.

And Then It Hit Him - princevince

Team Voltron is back together after being separated in the wormhole. They all learned a lot about themselves. About each other. Some...more than others. It's hard to take it all in, even after time has passed. But you don't always have to take it all alone.

breathless - zxrysky

"You shouldn't go out to the sea at night," their grandmother says. She's in a rocking chair, old and creaky, her withered body settled with a shawl around her shoulders, wrinkled fingers gripping the edges of the arm rest. "Don't risk it."

"Risk what?" Shiro asks, eyes wide. He's fourteen, just a young boy, on the cusp of maturity, arms wrapped around his younger brother as they sit before their grandmother.

His grandmother pauses for a while. "There is danger in the sea."

Dorks - GriffinRose

Inspired by a post on Tumblr!

Lance is the only one listening to the current presentation, and oh boy is it something to listen to. The kid has been rambling on about aliens for ten minutes and he is trying so hard not to laugh. So hard. Turns out the kid didn't even think Lance was paying attention, so when he finds out Lance was he books it. Like, as fast it takes Lance to turn his head, that kid was gone.

Keith wants to die. The Hot Guy in his bio class was actually listening to him talk about aliens. That's it. He's done. Kill him now.

Poor Shiro is just trying to keep his little brother sane.

don't wanna be free - VickyVicarious

In which Lance gives compliments (but not really), and Keith has lots of feelings but zero impulse control.

Eyes Over Here, Mister - amillionsmiles

Despite what his track record might look like, Lance understands girls, okay? Keith has Bad Boy written all over him—the dude sleeps with a knife, for Pete’s sake, and seems partial to black T-shirts when he isn’t in the Garrison uniform. Throw in a guardedness that could pass off as “mysterious” and a pair of dark eyes that could turn soulful in the right lighting and also if you could, like, get the guy to even look at you in the first place—

“Do you think I could work a mullet?” Lance asks Hunk.

“Absolutely not.”

OR: four times Keith completely ignored Lance, and one time he didn't.

Fading - Graceless_Grace

College!AU Klance; Keith doesn’t love the idea of asking for help when he’s sick. So, when he starts to feel a fever coming on, he does what he always does, while fading in and out.

Flames of Ice - linkami1379

"Finding out he was bisexual wasn’t a friendly experience. Solution? Be as girl-oriented as possible, use spare time to make clever comebacks and rely on sarcasm to save the day. At least that was what Lance figured would work at age eleven."

Boys finding their way in the big, wide universe.

Hank-y Pank-y - Methoxyethane

“You act,” Lance scoffed dramatically, “like I wanna make out with him or something.”

head to head, neck and neck, side by side - kushling

Lance and Keith both like sparring, Avatar, and each other. They have a hard time admitting it. Pidge makes fun of them. Space swords!!!

hey, keith? - furrykeith

Lance vents his feelings to a sleeping Keith.

Or so he thinks.

if it takes two - velvetcrowbars

After the Sendak attack, Keith and Lance deal with unresolved things. Whatever those might be.

“Keith?”

“What?” He finally says, safely slipping the piece over Lance’s head with minimal knocking against his temple. He sets the discarded parts on the floor next to the bed.

“I have a confession.”

it's quite bizarre, and will remain this way - mayerwien

FROM THE DESK OF ALLURA ALTEA Director The Rex Alfor Memorial Space Museum

Dear Mr. Coran,

I am writing to entrust to you the care and supervision of the young man who will be working with our custodial team starting this coming Tuesday. The young man’s name, as I’m sure you already know, is Keith.

As you also have been made aware, the incident that occurred two weeks ago was his first criminal offense, and thus I have elected not to press charges against him, in the hope that a little community service and a few kind words will go a long way.

Please see to it that our new volunteer gets a basic but thorough introduction as to what it is we do here at RAMSM. Unless any more untoward situations arise, there is no need to report to me further. I trust your good judgment, as I always have.

(Additionally, I would like to commend you for successfully managing to keep this story out of the press. Your service to the museum over the years has gone above and beyond your job description. We will have to talk about this very soon. When are you free for coffee?)

never been kissed - kairiolette

“You give off the obnoxious popular vibe. The mullet, and the rap sheet, and—the fingerless gloves,” Lance replies, and barrels on before Keith can take it the wrong way. “I’m so handsome, my name’s Keith and I’m a pilot.”

“That sounds more like a compliment than an insult,” Keith says slowly, a disdainful quirk to his eyebrows that only spurs Lance on. He tilts his head a bit, his bangs shadowing his face, like he’s assessing a particularly impossible physics problem. “And I don’t like that voice you’re using.”

No Room For Secrets - Crawlingthroughashes

Keith thought he and Lance had reached a bit of an understanding the night Lance was injured. He should have realized that Lance had a monopoly on being the most obnoxious, petty brat in the galaxy.

Or, Shiro forces the two to engage in more team bonding exercises as a means to put an end to their bickering, but a lot more than bonding occurs.

Nightmares - Trashness

Lance's nightmares are getting out of control. It's effecting his and the team's performance, but he's at a loss for how to fix this.

Apparently sleeping next to a warm body helps.

Put Your Hands On Me - crystallineflowers

Lance and Keith get back from a diplomatic mission, and Lance just can't keep his hands to himself. I mean, can anyone blame him? His boyfriend is super hot, after all.

pepsicola - corydalis

It starts like this: Lance looking up at the scoreboard only a few days into his Garrison training and muttering to himself, “What the hell kind of a name is Keith?”

-- Or, Keith and Lance fall in love. Eventually. DAY 2: love // hate

scattered stars - Crawlingthroughashes

Lance wore his heart on his threadbare sleeve, visible for the perusal of wandering eyes.

Keith, on the other hand, kept his heart carefully concealed beneath skin that was stretched too tight and bones that felt too heavy for his body.

Show Me - saffronskies

Show me that you're human, show me that you won't break

Lance tries to be selfless for Keith, and sometimes it gets a little too hard for them both.

TW: Depression/Dealing with depression. Mention of suicide attempt.

Since We Might Die - Velazyraptor

Lance and Keith are on a mission on a forest planet and they run into a horrible monster. Lance thinks this is his last chance to confess.

It's rated T because of cursing.

sleep - orphan_account

“You’re annoying,” he kindly informed Lance. The other paladin just let out a loud snore in response. “I guess you’re also a little cute too,” Keith felt his cheeks warm up a little as he admitted it out loud, reaching over to turn out the lights.

In which Keith and Lance get cuddly and cheesy.

somewhere i have never travelled - songs

In an oddly tepid motion, Lance brushes the tip of his finger along Keith’s pulse-line. He says, “I can feel your heartbeat, here.” He takes Keith’s thumb, then, and presses it to his own wrist. “And you can feel mine. We’re the same, you dumbass. Me and you. You and everyone here. You’re fine. Wherever you want to go— it’s fine.”

steal the air from my lungs - zxrysky

“Read the news,” his grandma told him with something sad in her eyes, and passed him the newspapers lying on the table. She lifted him on her lap and turned the page, flipped through the black and white words until it landed on a picture of the ocean, wide and blue, stretching out far into the horizon.

“Missing people at sea,” Lance read out dutifully, and his eyes grew big. “They don’t come back?” He asked in a small voice. He couldn’t imagine- he couldn’t imagine just leaving. He couldn’t imagine going missing. He thought of James, barely two, holding on to Lance’s hands as he toddled along the ground, and shuddered.

“They don't, baby. These missing people at sea, they don’t ever come back.” His grandma looked old and tired, and Lance abruptly thought of his granddad, lost at sea long before Lance came into the world, and all that was left was this huge house.

sweet like honeysuckle late at night - starspecters

“Hey,” Lance says indignantly, poking his finger into the hard Velcro of Pidge’s binder. “Jesus loves me.”

“I don’t know why he would.”

Lance would like to blame the heat, but really, he knows where responsibility and blame should be placed -- namely, in the entire food group of alien peaches.

Things Held Sacred - yarrie

So maybe, just maybe, Pidge was right. Maybe, just maybe, Keith had shot himself in the foot with his first attempt at resolving the blanket-hogging situation, because now Lance seemed to think it was a game and the rules were: steal the blankets, get sex.

To be fair, Keith hadn't exactly been...dissuading him very well.

three words, and i'm yours - Dreamicide

To help things along with finding ones soulmate, the first words spoken to one another are written on their wrists.

So when Lance sees 'You're under arrest' on his skin, he decides to try and find his soulmate as fast as he can.

He gets arrested.

A lot.

Through Time and Space - Hidden_Pineapple

Prompt: -We all know Lance is homesick. But what happens when Pidge figures out how to make an accurate calendar of earth? Lance realizes just how much he’s missed. And even then, its only the tip of the iceberg. (...)

What happens when you write too long past midnight.

We'll Be Counting Stars - southspinner

Keith's just trying to navigate the collegiate mine-field of tests, social circles, and sleep-deprivation while still maintaining a fragile grip on his sanity. The last thing he needs is some snapback-clad fraternity president making him re-evaluate his entire existence, but of course, because the universe hates him, that's exactly what he gets.

Weight of the World - Zurela

Lance hasn't been sleeping very well. He does a good job of handling that, really.

Keith disagrees.

with quiet words I'll lead you in - strikinglight

“You were screaming,” Keith tells him. “I heard you through the wall.”

That wall, Lance wants to point out, is supposed to be soundproof. It shouldn’t let you hear anything, no matter how hard you listen. What he says instead is “I can’t breathe.”

“Take it slow.” Keith’s voice is steady, but as Lance’s eyes struggle to focus his face is a blur. The image goes shaky and then comes clear, shaky then clear, like looking into water. “Pretend it’s low tide. Tell me about the ocean again.”

heard a noise - scriveyner (trismegistus)

“So,” Hunk said, standing in the threshold of the doorway to the bridge. “Not for nothing, because I thought someone should know about it before they break something else, but I’m pretty sure that Lance and Keith broke the training room. Again.”

cradle you - TheMintPen

“So…bad day?”

Keith let out a snort as he mumbled into Lance’s chest, “That’s an understatement.”

Dialing... - AnnSmith

prompt: i call the wrong number and declare my love to you, and hang up before you can explain.

His voice sounded a bit more deep that how it normally was, but he supposed it was the sleep. After all, it was pretty late for a call. But he had to let him know. it was the most important thing at the moment.

Lance calls the wrong guy, and he fucks up.

one sky, one destiny - theatrythms

Lance misses home. Keith's home has been lost to the darkness for ten years. Kingdom Hearts Au.

crushing - orphan_account

“Thanks,” Lance awkwardly cleared his throat, all too aware of Keith’s unwavering gaze on him, “for staying, I mean.”

“Yeah,” a smile slowly spread on Keith’s face. “We’re a team, after all.”

(In which Lance gets homesick and Keith is apparently nocturnal.)

A Curiosity - BlueRoboKitty

"There’s only one way Lance can salvage his reputation, and that is to turn his intentions into something else entirely."

Cookies - Quiznak

Lance gives Keith cookies.

Don't Hate Me - wolfgun

“This is… your fault,” Keith groaned, banging his head against the old building. “You were the one who insisted we go in, guns blazing, without our lions! This is what happens when--”

“It is not! You were totally and completely on board with the idea--” A few gunshots cut Lance off, ricocheting off the walls. Keith risked poking his head around the corner, seeing a total of 10 Galra foot soldiers running up. A hand gripped his upper arm, and he quickly withdrew to look at Lance.

“We need to either get out of here and hide, find a way to get to our lions, or fight them.”

MCR - Autistictobio

keith is a emo

Deez nutz - Autistictobio

Keith is dating a moron

It started off just as a simple kiss, an accident really. - Autistictobio

It started off just as a simple kiss, an accident really. And it felt oh so good. (The rating might go up)

Me Enamora - Leonid42

After training for the day Keith walks back to his room, but on the way is distracted by some strange music.

te aviso te anuncio - Leonid42

Music could really affect you, huh? For some people, it brought a tear to your eye, others would be encouraged for the day. And Keith? Well Keith could feel his heart slowly melt for the stupid Paladin who sang.

My Wrist to Keep - InsominiacArrest

Good old-fashioned hand-cuff fic as Lance and Keith are instructed to bond by being around each other (a lot)

Fuck Me Up - Azure_Wavelet

Based off of this post on tumblr: velazyraptor:

Okay but consider:  Keith pretending to be lance’s boyfriend to ruin lance’s attempts to flirt with aliens

Heaven Above You (Blood Off Your Hands) - Mytay

“You have to promise — we have to swear that no matter how much we argue or disagree, we are never going to abandon each other.”

“I’m sort of insulted that you need a solemn oath from me over something that I figured was obvious,” Lance murmured lightly, but his eyes were dark and staid. “I couldn’t leave you behind even if you begged me to — you’re stuck with me, Keith.”

Keith’s hand finally bridged that infinitesimal gap. The Blue Paladin intertwined their fingers, squeezing just this side of painfully tight. Keith returned the favour, his heart beating a steady yearning throughout his body.

“Good,” Keith whispered, his face so close to Lance’s that he could easily count each of those long eyelashes. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Two weeks into their marooning on this too-damn-dangerous-planet, Lance shoots someone in cold blood. Keith sees that they are both losing pieces of themselves, with nothing but darkness to fill in the broken gaps.

moments of silence - attemptsonwords

Quiet moments between two boys who spend most of their time yelling at the other.

Winner, Winner - squidmemesinc

“I don’t want to have sex with you!”

“You don’t?! Are you sure you don’t? Because it sure does sound like you want to experience my ‘sex thing’”—air quotes—“for yourself, sexually, in a sexual way, because that’s what you totally just implied.” I experience a brief break in hysteria and straighten up, giving a winning smile to not-Keith, who doesn't deserve its glory. “Although I wouldn’t blame you, I am stunningly handsome and very good at giving he—”

“Lance, stop talking, now! I was just talking about kissing, but if you’re going to be weird or make a big deal out of it, then forget it.”

Captivate - IcyStarlight

Lance is called the king of contests and Keith does not believe it till he sees it.

A Fish And A Bird - Methoxyethane

Lance has a boyfriend. Lance does not realize he has a boyfriend. Keith, understandably, does not react well.

Two Fuckboys Fuck - 5PUSSIES

Against all odds, Lance manages to get laid.

Wear Your Cactus on Your Sleeve - shaqfu

All Lance wanted to do was buy a new cactus for his shop.

An Equitable Compromise - Barkour

It was all Keith's fault that Lance kissed him.

Secret's Out - BlueRoboKitty

Keith and Pidge come to an understanding as they wait anxiously for Lance to heal after the Galra's surprise infiltration of the castle. Pidge learns Keith has a secret of his own.

Apology in a Bottle - BlueRoboKitty

In a rare display of maturity, Lance tries to apologize to Keith for humiliating him. But a bottle of alien wine has found the Red Paladin first.

I Think We're Alone Now - BlueRoboKitty

Surprise, surprise, Keith drinking himself to a mortified stupor actually solved nothing, so once again, it's up to Lance to fix this trainwreck of an attraction he started or the team may never be able to form Voltron again.

Sweet Quiznak - CheckeredCloth

"You're really into him," Hunk mutters, and wow, Lance's face is on fire. Hunk is killing him.

"Look, read into how you like, Freud, just make sure that if I die Keith knows I totally would've mowed his ass like grass. That way, I can laugh hysterically at his emotionally-constipated expression from the afterlife."

Or: Lance is badly injured and has a few skeletons in his closet. Or maybe just the one.

Just a Sip - gaysquared

Keith can't hold his liquor. ______

For the prompt: "Is there a reason you're naked in my bed?"

Body Heat - littlemissmelody

Lance and Keith are on a mission to a very cold planet to do some recon on the Galra. However, due to a storm, they are stuck in one place for the night.

Or, Lance is freezing, and Keith is basically a furnace.

It's okay too cry - Autistictobio

*SPOILERS* this is the after math of the end of season 1 okay??? Lance and keith are stuck together alone

Nightmares aren't always that bad - Els_writes

Keith has nightmares, Lance helps him sleep.

Casual Contact - quartetship

It started off casually enough.

Ice in your veins - IcyStarlight

You may never be able to return to your first home, but you’ll freeze hell over before you let the world take your second one.

Elemental AU from tumblr user rhymentai

All The Small Things - Priestlyislove

Keith is tiny. Lance is annoying.

no i'll never forget (i just wanted to be near you) - glitterfreezing

"He rests his chin atop Keith’s head and listens to him breathe. The stars are brilliant overhead, and Keith’s mouth is warm against the thin cotton of Lance’s shirt, and Lance wonders if this is what people mean when they say "second home.""

lance and keith, on starting over, missing home, and love.

title from eugene by sufjan stevens.

Coffee - Quiznak

Coffee shop au.

Roommate Wanted - slendermanhood

There is absolutely no way Keith and I will ever become friends, Lance thought angrily to himself. He attended Lance’s dream school, the school that harshly rejected him because he wasn’t good enough. And Keith goes there on a scholarship?!

Lance can’t reject him as a roommate, because his rent was due next week. But, he promised to himself, that stuffy douchebag and I will never be friends, I swear it.

Pidge told him before not to make a stupid rivalry out of this, but Lance can’t help it. He was going to make Keith regret he ever crossed paths with Lance Sanchez.

(In which Lance and Keith are roommates, then enemies, then friends, then enemies again, then lovers)

In Motion - thatonegreenpencil

Late night training session somehow turns into more of a bonding exercise. Or the beginning of one, anyway.

(Set after ep 2)

watch yourself - shizuoh

Keith has a lot of trouble trying to deal with his obnoxious boyfriend.

Nosedive by quartetship

"You still wanna keep going, Keith?"

"You know it."

we'll make it, you and me - asexualrey

"Keith, if we make it out of this alive, I'm going to kiss you."

7 minutes in heaven (heaven looks a lot like a closet) - sun_stricken

lance + keith+ small spaces = gay shit

Meet-Cute, more like Meet-Ugly - mysterem

They say that meeting your soulmate is the best moment of your life. People are always talking about how the second that your counter hits zero it’s like the whole world seems to slow down, and all that matters is the two of you. But no one said anything about getting punched in the face.

Gay Chicken - InsominiacArrest

Someone else drops out of the pilot program and both Keith and Lance are in, and this time wrangled into a pilot’s beginning of year ‘get-together.’ It’s basically a frat party.

They play a very competitive party game neither backs down from.

#voltron #klance #klance fic recs

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