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bonny-kookoo · 3 years

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Make Me | 🔞 | JJK x Reader

Pairing:Jeon Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Romance, Lowkey kinda crack, Smut, slight angst

Wordcount: 3.4k (its pretty short since I plan on giving you guys random smut-shots for this, so a lot of the scenes didn't make it into this one.)

Tags/warnings: Playful teasing, swearing, name calling, slight hair pulling, smut, usage of toys (remote controlled), slight angst, they be fighting a lil, it's a pretty low-carb meal really, very lightweight, okay I don't think there's anything else to say

Summary: Jungkook and you; a couple that's not only connected under the name of lovers- but best friends and enemies as well.

Jungkook is absolutely in love with you.

That may be hard to believe, considering the two of you currently fighting on the couch over the last bite of your burger. You're not play-fighting like cutesy couples either, no; you're both acting as if starvation was the only alternative.

Its really not; there's plenty other takeout still on the table.

"I paid for this shit you ungrateful bitch!" He laughs out as you stuff the bite into your mouth, hands high in triumph. "I can't believe you sometimes." He mumbles, watching you chew and swallow before he attacks again. He's careful with you, although it might not seem that way. Jungkook wouldn't dare to injure you in any way, always getting apologetic every time he accidentally bruises your skin. He pins your arms on the couch, predatory eyes staring at you as you raise your eyebrows.

"What'cha gonna do about it?" You challenge, and he groans out as he lets you go.

"Fuck you!" He says, and you laugh out loud. "Don't make me fucking pop a boner- I don't wanna eat cold french fries!" He whines while reaching for said food item, and you shrug as you reach for the pack of chicken nuggets, opening a tiny tub of sauce. "I can't believe you." He chuckles, unable to hold up his facade of being upset about all of it.

He really isn't.

Everyone of his friends thinks its weird- the relationship you two had. He himself however always felt like he had won the jackpot with you; he had a hot girlfriend he didn't have to change anything for. There was no need to be all romantic and cheesy and make himself into someone he wasn't. Being gentle was no requirement with you; you were his absolute best friend, and also lover at the same time.

He had it all with you.

Hard to believe, but Jungkook had been very realistic about it with you. Of course it had been exciting when you two had hooked up for the first time- but the more he got to know you, the more he fell in love with your honest nature and loving personality. You were passionate about your art, never let someone talk down on you, always spoke your mind. You were a challenge, a tiger waiting to be tamed, and Jungkook was as ready as he had ever been to try and do just that. Because right now you were young, you were wild, and one day, you'll have lived all of your dreams. Somewhere deep down, he already imagines it. Sometimes. The way he'll buy a house for you two, how he'll marry you and knock you up to make his family complete.

But for now, you were simply two young lovers in the moment.

Theres a drop of sauce on the top of your breast, and you don't even notice the way Jungkook stares as you wipe it off with your finger, licking it clean like second nature. He's furrowing his brows as he throws his head back, pure agony in his voice as he growls out. "God what is it now?" You playfully complain, last bite of your food gone in your mouth as you look at him with amusement. "Don't tell me you're still hard." You say.

"Fuck off, it's your fault!" He laughs out, unable to quite conceal how funny the entire situation seems to him as well. "Can't you sit on my dick while I finish my food?" He whines, pouting expression thrown your way as you give him a look that says more than you could with words. "Okay yeah saying that out loud makes it sound weird." He mumbles, speeding up his speed as he finishes his food. He swallows after a moment, leaning back on the couch as he gives himself a moment to settle. Maybe he'll come down on his own.

But then again, as he looks at you, he has to remember what his mother always told him.

'don't let the food get cold'

And its your laughter in his ears that makes him smile as he crawls over you, pulling your shirt over your head as he decides no; he doesn't want to wait.

"Jungkookie, LOOK!" You exclaim as he walks inside your studio, watching as you were petting a massive dog. Maybe a great dane? Mastiff? It didn't matter at all- because you were so happy his attention wasn't on the animal next to you at all. "He's so cute, aren't you?" You say, squishing the dogs head a little. Jungkook laughs.

"Please don't tell me you want a dog now." He says, and you look at him with large eyes. "No, please, we can barely take care of ourselves right now!" He laughs. "Bring it up again when you can walk stairs without stumbling." He teases, and you stare daggers at him.

"At least I'm not scared of the fucking microwave." You mumble, as you stand up, the customer absolutely entertained by the two of you. Jungkook slaps your butt as an answer to your teasing, making you squeal scandalized. "Jungkook! That's public indecency!" You exclaim, and Jungkook laughs as he sits down on a chair in the waiting lounge you're standing in.

"If that's true I gladly get arrested." He says, and you roll your eyes as you say your goodbyes to the customer and his very lovable pet, getting your stuff to walk over to him. "Good to go?" He asks, and you nod, walking out next to him as you spot his car outside- or rather, the small van his company provided him. You have had your suspicions already as he was still wearing his work attire- this sight now spoke out clearly what you were fearing.

"Jungkook no-" You whine, and he sighs, silently telling you were right. "You promised no more overtime!" You said. "We were supposed to have a nice weekend!" You say, genuinely upset, and he can see it; the look in your eyes is pure disappointment, brows scrunched up as your shoulder slump down. "You promised." You mumble, as he opens the passenger door for you, letting you get inside the car.

"I'm sorry, but Tae called in sick and they asked who could take his shift." He explained as he drove home, well knowing that this was no excuse for you. But instead of voicing that out like you usually did, you were silent.

He did not like that.

"I'm really sorry." He says again, but you're still not answering him. "Baby?" He tries, but you're looking out the window, not sparing him even a glance. He knows he fucks up sometimes, but this is entirely new territory for him. Never had he had to deal with you genuinely upset with him, at least not to this extend- because at the moment it seemed as if you were ready to open that door at the next red light and walk right away from him.

The thought alone made him shudder- and not in a good way.

He tries again, but this time you speak; voice quiet, serious, and way too formal for him to feel comfortable with. "Just bring me home Jungkook." The way you say his name makes him bite the inside of his cheek. He's now upset at himself as well. He knew how much you had been looking forward to a shared weekend together. He should've not said anything when they asked who could take over the shift.

And as he came to a stop in front of your shared apartment, it only got worse. Because for the first time, you just got out of his car, closing the door, and went into the apartment complex.

You didn't give him his kiss to the cheek like you did every time- even when you were mad.

You didn't say goodbye.

You didn't even look back.

"I don't want you gone all the time." You whine out as you hold onto him, his hands on your back as he helps you stay where you are on his lap, your head in his neck as you breath heavily. "I need you." You say, and its one of the rare moments you're open like that. He's eating it up, drinking it in, as he holds you, palms all over your bare skin while you move lazily.

"I know, I'm sorry, I really am." He breathes out, placing kisses to your shoulder, helping you rock on his cock so you won't have to do all the work. "I need you too, I really do, I'm sorry." He mumbles, slipping out of you for a moment before he lays you flat on the bed, guiding his length back inside you as he looms over your body, kissing your skin as if he's worshipping you, as if he can't get close enough to you, his hands holding onto your middle as he keeps you stable while he pushes into you slowly.

"Faster-" You beg him, but he shakes his head, not picking up his pace at all as you whine. "Kookie please-" You say, and he shakes his head again.

"No, we got time." He argues back, and you open your eyes at that, looking to the side. "What is it?" He asks.

"We don't." You say. "You have to get up early tomorrow." You say, and Jungkook shakes his head, making you roll your eyes for a moment as you want to continue- but he shuts you up with a well practiced hand on your clit, your body reacting instantly as your toes curl up. "Jungkook-"

"I don't." He says, gritting his teeth as he finally picks up his pace. "I took time off." He breathes out. "Told them I need the weekend." His hand is eager to have you come undone underneath him as your legs move, heels digging into the small of his back as you snake them around his body the best you can considering the size difference. "Told them I got my girlfriend at home, and guess what?" He asks, and you mewl at his antics. "No one's gonna call me up. Phone's on airplane mode." You're suddenly frantic, hands gripping the bedsheets underneath you as he doesn't let up, smiles into your neck as he bites and sucks his marks. "They can fuck off while I fuck you." He whispers, and you suddenly snap, back arching as you come, his violent thrusting making you sob dryly, fingers reaching for his arms as you dig them into his inked skin.

That's your art underneath his skin, safely tucked away to be guarded from time. That's your ink on his body, your way of making him yours. And this, the way he mouths and nibbles and bites and kisses- that's his way of making you his.

He slips out, desperately rutting into his own hand as he cums onto your lower belly, his release staining the sheets below.

But it doesn't matter in that moment.

He gladly cleans up afterwards.

"Would you ever wanna live in New Zealand?" You ask him, as he makes sure not to burn any of the food on the grill.

It's your yearly holiday trip, this time in the cold of new Zealand, a camping van your home for the two weeks you'd decided to travel the country. "I mean, why not?" He tells you, turning a piece of meat over, before he looks at you sitting next to him, all bundled up in his way too large puffer jacket. It's already large on him- so it almost swallows you whole. But it also awakens something inside him, seeing you wear his clothes like that. He feels protective, weirdly so.

"Hmhm." You say. "The people seem nice here." You say, and then you rest your head against his shoulder, making him smile as his arm wraps around you- a movement almost instinctual at this point. "But I don't know, won't we miss home?" You wonder, and Jungkook shrugs.

"I don't really need a home as long as you're with me." He says, speaking it out loud without thinking as you suddenly detach from him. He looks at you, worried he might've said something too much, but you look at him so.. he can't describe it. Your lips are on his in the next second, before you go to the van to retrieve some paper plates.

"Oh my god, that was-" You say, balancing cutlery in your arm. "-The most romantic fucking thing you've ever said!" You say, putting everything onto the camping table as he chuckles. "No, I mean it. That was so movie-worthy!" You say. "I feel like I'm in a K-Drama!" You exclaim, and he laughs.

"They don't swear that much in K-Dramas." He corrects you playfully, but still smiles. "But yeah I get you. Sometimes I feel like this isn't real too. Too good to be true and all that." He says, and you suddenly squeal, making him look at you.

"Stop!" You say, before you hug him tightly.

You're looking through clothing items when you suddenly feel it.

The sudden buzzing right inside you, making your foot studder in its step as you try to conceil your reaction as best as you can. You can feel your thighs clenching, muscles contracting as the feeling of the bullet vibrator. And one look towards Jungkook sitting on a chair in front of the dressing stalls makes you want to punch him right in his pretty face.

He's got his hand inside his sweater pocket, smirking slightly at your struggle as he doesn't seem to care who's sitting next to him- or who could see you and connect the dots. He likes things like that; the slight thrill of getting caught and the literall proof that you had given him all control making him feel absolute bliss.

You're more concerned about the fact that you're about to cum.

Right inside this fucking store.

You shoot him daggers, and he simply has the audacity to smile, shrugging his arms as if he's got no idea what you mean. He tones it down a little, turning it off for now when he felt like he'd tortured you enough; stripping you of your orgasm as well. You want to whine out, complain, but you simply but the clothes back where they belong, walking up to him. "Oh? Nothing caught your eye baby?" He asks innocently, and you simply smile, shaking your head. "Alright." He says, getting up to walk out with you.

And its inside the car after he had parked in a secluded spot on a scarcely lit parking lot that he turns the device on again. "I have to say.." He starts, watching you squirm in the passenger seat, hands instantly clenching into fists as your legs squeeze together. "I'm not mad anymore I almost paid a hundred bucks for this thing." He tells you. "Feels good baby?" He asks, and you nod- but its not enough for Jungkook. "I can't hear you." He tells you, and you have to cut yourself off to not moan out loud.

"I-t.. ah- feels good.." You somehow get out, squirming and slowly growing desperate as he keeps the setting low- too low for you to actually cum. He's enjoying the show for a moment, until he reaches underneath his drivers' seat, fumbling around before the seat rolls back, making more room. You know what's going to happen next. "Can I-?" You start, and he nods, helping you safely onto his lap.

"You look so pretty like this." He praises, hands underneath your clothing as he gently fondles your breasts- enjoying the fact you've decided to skip the bra today. "Hm?" He humms against your skin, before he leans back, switching onto the highest setting. He doesn't even need to touch himself to get off, he knows that already; the sight in front of you enough to get him going. You're erratic at this point, Hips rutting into nothing as you hold your hands awkwardly in front of your mouth. Jungkook reaches out, letting you hold onto him, and he feels weirdly loving at the sight of you holding onto him so desperately. "Oh?" He suddenly asks, noticing you stutter. "Cum baby. Come on." He urges, and you want to tell him its too much, too much, but then you suddenly cum, and he tones it down a little, letting you ride it out as you clumsily fondle him over his jeans- only a few movements enough for him however to come undone inside his pants. "Shh, you're good, good job, good girl." He humms out, letting you rest against his chest for a moment, closing his eyes as he enjoys the moment with you.

He's really not mad about the hundred bucks anymore.

One thing Jungkook had come to live with was the fact that you loved everything cute.

You collected anything pink and soft and cute, plushies being his go-to present because he knew that would always be a bullseye-shot with you. They're all over the place, but Jungkook doesn't mind. Even though he can't understand the appeal of some of them, he himself understands the appeal of collecting things. And he's also not one to judge- having accepted you with every piece and habit you have.

That doesn't mean he doesn't tease you for it.

"Why's the rat wearing old granny clothes?"jungkook snorts, jumping over the back of the couch to sit next to you, who is currently trying to sew a hole on your melody plush toy shut.

"Shut up, Melody isn't a rat!" You mumble, making Jungkook chuckle as he eats his popsicle, watching you work. He really likes how delicate your hands are; they fit nicely in his hands whenever he holds them. Yours get cold a lot- and he likes giving you some warmth whenever he can.

Anything for you.

"I think its a rat." He tells you, giggling boyishly when you throw your head back, groaning. He gets up to walk into the kitchen to throw the wooden stick of his treat away, as he hears you.

"Well detective melody thinks you're a little bitch." You retort. And only seconds later, jungkook is behind you, looking over your shoulder to check if its clear- he doesn't want you to hurt yourself with the needle. Once he's made sure, he grabs a fistful of your hair, pulling it back so you're looking at him upside down.

"You wanna say that again sweetheart?" He growls out, and your sparkling eyes shout mischievously at him from below.

He loves the powerplay.

But this time you decide to ge cute, holding the stuffed toy into his face as you giggle. "Its melodys words, not mine!" You argue, and he laughs, before he pushes the toy aside, pressing a kiss to your nose before he walks back into the kitchen again. "Although I can't argue with whats been said-" you start, and Jungkook shouts from the kitchen as you laugh.

"I wasn't a little bitch last night when I was balls deep in-" he starts, and you scream over his words, scandalized.

"Jungkook, not when melody is listening!"

"So.." Jimin started, looking at your hand. "You wanna explain that expensive ass thing?" He asks, before he slaps the table. "Don't tell me its real!" He asks, eyes wide as you laugh.

"Why, you wanna steal n' sell?" You challenge, and he shakes his head, now a little more serious.

"No, I just wondered. He popped the question or not?" He asks, and you can't help the grin that spreads onto your cheeks. But before any of you can answer, the man in question walks inside, having heard the conversation.

"I did, and that means you can fuck off Park." He challenges, roughly pushing the elder away with a hand on his head, making everyone laugh at their antics. "How's my fiance doing?" He asks. "Still walking like a newborn babydeer?" He teases, and you smack his head with a printout you had rolled up. "Ow, you literally told me to go hard, don't be mad now!" He says, before running away from your red-faced form, chasing him with the printouts around the studio.

Yeah, some things never change.

And that's ok.

(c)Bonny-Kookoo. Don't try reposting on AO3 or your mom's facebook. I got eyes everywhere.

#bts imagine #bts #bts fanfic #jungkook imagine #bts fic #bts smut #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook #bts reactions #Make Me! AU

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anonniemousefics · 3 years

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Sleepless

So, Carry On Countdown 2020 is happening on Tumblr right now, and I’m not participating, but the other day @milo-fanarts posted that absolutely heart-wrenching fanart of Snowbaz based on the “Sleepless” prompt of the day, and I was seized with the need to write a ficlet based on it. Here’s the art - go give them a follow. :)

Fandom: Carry On/Wayward Son | Simon + Baz

Words: 1,567

Rating: Teen and Up

CW: Angst (and fluff! :) )

BAZ

Sleeping with Simon Snow is weird. I don’t mean sleeping with sleeping with – we’re not ready yet. (Or, let’s be honest, he’s not ready yet. If I came home one day and he was ready, I’d be naked before the front door even finished closing behind me.)(It’s fine – he doesn’t need to know.) I just mean this. Simon Snow taking up half my bed, warm and snuggly, with his tousled bronze curls all in his freckled, sleeping face. His giant red wings casting enormous black shadows in the moonlight.

My entire family doesn’t have enough fingers and toes among them to keep count how many times I used to lie awake at night at Watford, aching to be this close to him. How many nights I’d think if I could just have this, I’d never ask for anything else for the rest of my life.

Turns out, I don’t seem to do much sleeping now that I have it, either. Maybe it’s just because we don’t do it very often. The logistics of sharing a bed with your partial-dragon boyfriend are complicated at best, and Simon’s a bit of a violent sleeper these days. I’ve taken a wingtip to the eye more than once. (And once is already one too many times.)

It’s also a little distracting how handsy my brain wants me to be. (I just – Crowley, I am the greediest bastard. I want to run my hands up and down the curves of his shoulder muscles. I want to trace all the freckles around his lips. I want to watch him fall asleep while I run my fingers through his hair.) I don’t think Simon’s ready for all my handsiness, either.

So, I’m staring. I’m still fucking staring. Like it’s sixth year all over again, and I’m back to fantasizing that if I stare long enough, I’ll somehow incept his dreams and convince him to break up with Agatha and give making out with boys a try. (Huh. Maybe it worked after all?)

And that’s what I’m doing when he starts twitching in his sleep. (This isn’t new. Sometimes he talks, too.)(The last time we tried this, he full on tried to punch me in the face in his sleep.)(I was a little wary when he’d expressed an interest in staying tonight.) I start to preemptively roll away, in case he starts fluttering his wings, because I’d rather have him jab me in the back than the eye (again).

But that’s when he whimpers, a high, plaintive sound that threatens to break a few heartstrings. I look over my shoulder at him.

He’s still deep asleep, but his arms are crossed in front of his bare chest (lucky me, he sleeps shirtless) and his tawny brows are drawn together tight. I’m gutted by the way he huddles in on himself. I just want to hold him. I start to roll back to him, but stop short at the sound of his wings shuddering. (It brings to mind the method cowboys in old Westerns use to soothe wild horses – whoa, there. Easy, big fella. Like that would work.)

I’m ready to ignore them altogether, though, when Simon lets out something that sounds like a distant cry. It’s haunting. It’s horrible. It can’t go on.

“Simon,” I whisper into the dark. I try to reach out a hand to nudge him, to gently wake him out of it, and when I do, he draws in a shuddering breath. And starts to moan out something that sounds like Help.

“Hey, wake up.” I’m more insistent now – rising up on an elbow, giving his sleep-warmed shoulder a little shake. “Snow, wake up.”

He draws in a rasping gasp then, his eyes flaring open. His wings rustle and flap; I hold out a defensive hand.

“You were dreaming,” I tell him. He’s panting hard and shaking. “It was just a dream.”

He folds his wings in, then, spreading out onto his back with one hand pressed to his chest. It’s rising and falling fast with his shallow breaths – it sounds cacophonous in the dead of the night.

“You’re okay.” I keep reassuring him. I just want to hold him. Before I can move, he grabs my arm, like he’s steadying himself. His hand is clammy. “It was just a dream.”

“Fuck.” He scrubs a hand over his face, pressing the heel of his palm into one eye. And lets out a shaking breath.

“What happened?” I ask. I wonder if my clear voice is betraying how little sleeping I’ve actually been doing.

For a moment, I think that Simon isn’t going to answer. Or he’s going to say, “It’s fine” or “I don’t remember” when neither is true. He’s going to try to tack up another wall between us, because that is what we do lately. He’s just pinching the bridge of his nose, squishing his eyes shut tight, and I feel like I’m drifting further out to sea.

But, this time, he lets out a breath.

“I killed him,” he says, in a strained whisper. He means the Mage. In the moonlight, I catch a glimpse of the first tear that leaks from the corner of his eye.

I brush it away with the pad of my thumb.

“You saved us all, love,” I remind him, softly. “He was going to kill Agatha. And probably you and me and Penny, and who knows where he would have stopped.”

“He’d always been so good to me,” Simon whispers, like he hates to admit it. I would, too, if I were him.

It’s a complicated thing, this grief he carries (or mostly avoids). I don’t mourn the Mage – there’s no one else I know who does. But it’s something else entirely for Simon. The Mage had appeared in Simon’s life with hope and promises and a whole new life when Simon desperately needed one. And while he knows the Mage had gone on to deal in some extremely shady shit, that’s not something a person just easily puts aside in light of new information.

“You did the brave thing,” I remind him. “You did the right thing.”

There’s a steady stream of tears now. I wipe them with the backs of my fingers – they’re scalding hot, like he’s been boiling them in a dragon’s belly.

“I’m sorry,” he croaks. He’s still gripping my arm with one hand, the other hand pressed to his eye. I don’t know what good this is doing, and I just…

“Don’t be daft,” I say. “Will you just come here?”

And I open up one arm – an invitation. He can turn me down if he wants – I’ve survived worse. (I just want to hold him.)

And maybe it’s the magic of the moonlight or dream inception is truly a thing or Simon’s for once willing to let me in. It doesn’t matter. He rolls over into my arms, his lean body on top of mine, his head pressed to my chest.

This. This. This is all I’ve ever wanted. Just this.

(Tears aside, of course.)

I pull him tighter against me when I feel the heat of his tears begin to wet my shirt. (I don’t actually sleep shirtless – I’m too cold all the time.) I push my fingers into his curls, press my head to the top of his. He’s trying so hard to keep from openly weeping, but little good it’s doing him – I can feel how his muscles contract with each sob.

I hold him through it.

“I’m sorry,” he croaks again.

“Would you stop apologizing?” He’s so warm beneath my cold hands. “You’ve seen me cry, too.”

“Yeah, once,” Simon complains, petulantly. “And it was so beautiful, I made out with your snotty face.”

That makes me chuckle, and the fact that my laughter makes Simon’s head bob up and down on my chest makes him start to give a sniffling laugh.

“I’ll make out with your snotty face,” I offer, and he laughs again. (And I will. I have no shame.)

“That’s okay,” he says, and raises his head a moment. Looks down at the bloom of damp tears on my white t-shirt. “Sorry I got your shirt all wet.”

I just shrug.

“I like it – it’s Simon Snow art,” I tease, and double over my chin so I can inspect it. “Look – it looks like you’ve made a flower.”

“Oh, yeah?” He rests his head back on it, snug beneath my neck. Crowley, this is perfection. “You like wearing flowers now?”

“Maybe I do. Don’t you judge me, Snow.”

His chuckle rumbles through him and through me, too. I run my fingertips up the valleys of his back muscles. Slowly. Gently. Easy now. And his body starts to relax against me. I’m warmer than I’ve ever been in the night.

“Is this okay?” he whispers to me. I’m relaxing, too, growing heavy in the mattress. Comfortable. Soothed.

“It’s perfect,” I tell him, and press a kiss to his hair. He wraps his arms around me. He’s not going anywhere.

“Sorry in advance for drooling on you in my sleep,” he says as I’m starting to doze.

“Mmm. Sexy.” I grunt.

Snow laughs, and so do I – and again when his head bobs up and down with my laugh.

It’s the last thing I remember before finally falling off to sleep.

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Tagging: @loveyatopluto, @raging-bisexual-alert, @ireallyshouldsleeprn, @annejulianneh111, @whosanxiety, @raeisgaeandahalf, @bookish-mind, @juliazato

#snowbaz #simon snow #baz pitch #ficlet #fanfic #carry on #wayward son #one shot

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tinylilemrys · 5 years

Text

Save the Last Dance - a Reddie fic

Read it on AO3

Rating: T

Word count: 3,980

Tags: fluff and angst, getting together, mentions of PTSD, internalised homophobia, first dance, prom

Summary:

Eddie invites a girl to prom and almost instantly regrets it – even more so when he realises that the reason Richie has been so mad since he asked her and the reason he’s been watching the two of them is probably because Richie has a crush on her.

He’s never been happier to be proven wrong.

Prom was such a fucking waste of time, Eddie decided, watching Chloe Parker dance her fourth dance with Steve Himble, the president of the AV club (who had cleaned up surprisingly well). It wasn’t that he was jealous – he really wasn’t. He’d only asked her to prom a few days ago because she was his lab partner and he’d overheard her complaining to her friend that no one had asked her yet. Before that, he’d been planning to go stag with what was left of the Loser’s club after Mike, Ben and Bev had moved away, a fact which Richie had been only too happy to point out.

“Well that’s just fucking great, isn’t it, Eds?” He’d said, throwing up his arms in frustration. “Stan’s already decided not to fucking go and now you’re flaking out on us too? To go with Chloe fucking Parker of all people? Do you know what happens when two out of four stags stop going stag, Eds? Everyone assumes the last two stags are each other’s little deer boyfriends. Is that what you want to happen to Bill and me?”

Eddie hadn’t had the energy for Richie’s bullshit that day.

“If you’re so worried about looking gay, Richie, I suggest you and Bill grow some balls and actually fucking ask some girls.”

And then he had stormed off, trying very hard not to think about why Richie being scared of going to prom with another guy made him so angry. They hadn’t spoken since then and all the while Eddie hoped and prayed Richie wouldn’t find a date. He didn’t think he would survive it. Thankfully, he was relieved when Richie did, in fact, only show up with Bill.

Best to ignore all those emotions too.

From his table, he watched Richie and Bill leaning against the opposite wall of the gym, talking and drinking cups of the punch that Eddie was sure, in addition to breaking about fifty health code violations, had also been spiked by now (maybe even by Richie himself – he wouldn’t put it past him). Though he hadn’t had a chance to see him up close yet, from this distance Eddie had to admit that Richie looked damn good in a suit. Not that he’d ever tell him. He’d rather down the entire bowl of punch than admit that out loud.

Eddie’s stomach jolted when he realised that Richie was looking back at him, probably wondering why he was staring. He quickly dropped his gaze to his shoes and tried in vain to stop his cheeks flooding with colour.

This was dumb. Why was he sitting here alone waiting for Chloe to come sit down when it was clear that she was having a much better time with Steve anyway? Sighing, he got up from the table and made his way over to his friends.

“Hey, Eddie,” said Bill, clapping a hand to his shoulder. “Sorry it didn’t work out with Chloe.”

Eddie was about to shrug and say it was no big deal when Richie interjected.

“Yeah what’s up with that? Did she feel how tiny your dick is while you were dancing and get scared? I thought she was looking kinda sick.”

“Actually, Trashmouth, she told me it’s because she kept seeing this gangly grotesque creature in bottle cap lenses staring at us. It put her off.” It wasn’t entirely untrue. While it certainly wasn’t true that Richie was grotesque (again, never admitting that out loud), Chloe had pointed out about midway through their first and only dance that Richie was watching them. The knowledge made Eddie so self-conscious that decided he couldn’t bring himself to dance again, hence Steve swooping in to the rescue.

To his surprise, Richie’s eyebrows shot up into the tangle of hair he seemed to only barely have styled and though it was difficult to tell in the colourful lights, Eddie thought Richie might be blushing. He suddenly felt more nauseous than he did when Chloe had offered him a glass of punch earlier. Vaguely he realised that Richie was snapping out of it and hurling some witty retort back at him, but Eddie couldn’t make it out over the blood pounding in his ears at the sudden realisation that the reason Richie had been so mad at him for asking Chloe to prom, the reason he’d been staring at them while they were dancing, was that he liked her.

Suddenly everything made sense and he couldn’t be there anymore, not with the lights and the colours and the people and the Richie of it all. Without thinking twice, he ran as fast as he could outside to the nearest patch of grass and once there, was violently sick.

Most of the time he could deal with his unfortunate crush on his best friend by pretending it didn’t exist. If it was anything, it was just his wild teenage hormones sending him confusing signals. But that didn’t explain why every time Richie got him a thoughtful gift, or their banter was particularly on point, or it was just the two of them in Richie’s car singing along to whatever god-awful song was playing non-stop on the radio at the time, Eddie knew that there was no one else in the world who could make him feel as happy. But as Richie made no secret of his issues with the whole gay thing, it was far safer to just try to convince himself that he wasn’t feeling anything but really strong platonic love for his best friend.

The blood rushing in his ears calmed down enough for Eddie to hear the sound of footsteps running towards him. Worried it might be the Bowers gang, he whipped around in time to be tackled by a pair of long arms and a faceful of curly hair a moment later.

“Eddie, what the fuck man?” says Richie, holding onto him. “Are you okay? You scared the shit out of us.”

“I’m fine, Rich, I was just… I was just a bit overwhelmed in there and panicked,” he replied. Richie didn’t seem to be letting go so he took the opportunity to wrap his arms around him in return. He could feel Richie’s heart racing against his chest and his own seemed to be trying its damndest to catch up with it.

“W-we thought it might be it again,” Bill explained, his voice small and scared, and Eddie realised what he’d accidentally done. It had been almost six years since they beat that fucking clown down in those sewers, but every single one of them still had nightmares about it. Suddenly running away with no explanation was the worst thing he could have done to them.

“God, guys, I’m so sorry,” he said, squeezing his arms tighter around Richie who was shaking. “I just needed air. I wasn’t even thinking that… just, Jesus fuck, I’m sorry.”

“You’d better fucking be,” said Richie, letting go of Eddie and straightening his suit. “I didn’t survive that whole fucking ordeal just to die from a dumbass-induced heart attack at eighteen.”

“If you’re that upset about Chloe, we don’t have to stay, you know,” said Bill, changing the subject. “I think I saw enough of prom to say that I went. How about you, Rich?”

“Yeah, we can go if you want.” Richie turned to Eddie as he replied. His voice was tight and his eyebrows pinched and though Eddie knew that Bill was just trying to steer the conversation away from talk of Pennywise, he wishes he’d chosen any other topic of conversation. He didn’t need the reminder that Richie was mad at him for taking his crush to the prom. “I’ll give you a lift home if you need one, Eds.”

“Please,” Eddie replied with a small smile which, much to his delight, Richie returned

Richie’s car, much like the rest of the man, was a mess. The floor was littered with junk food wrappers and there was a suspicious stain on the backseat that Eddie was convinced was because one of the previous owners had used it to transport a body. It was the reason Eddie always insisted on riding shotgun.

As the car choked hesitantly to a start, he stole a glance at Richie’s profile, silhouetted against the lights outside.

Well, one of the reasons anyway.

“You can just drop me at S-Stan’s,” said Bill from the backseat and Eddie stomach dropped. Bill had been doing so well with his stuttering lately. It still took him a little longer to get through a sentence sometimes, but Eddie hadn’t heard him properly stutter for months. He’d caught on two words tonight already and somehow Eddie knew it was because of him – because he’d scared Bill. “I p-promised I’d come over after.”

“Sure thing,” said Richie, turning right instead of left like he would have done if he was taking Bill home. Eddie’s stomach sank further. He lived a lot closer to Stan than he did to Bill which meant that in dropping Bill off first, the trip was going to be a lot shorter.

“You know they sell cars with turn signals that work, right?” said Eddie to mask his disappointment.

“Where’s the fun in that?” said Richie, smiling for the second time that night. “I like to think I provide my fellow road users with a sense of adventure.”

“Maybe it’s a good thing my mom won’t let me get my licence.”

“Still not?” asked Bill.

“Yeah, Eds, she should know by now that it’s way more dangerous for you to be driving with me.” Richie was frowning the way he always did when Eddie’s mom was brought up outside of the context of sex jokes.

“Yeah, like I’d be dumb enough to tell my mom I let you drive me around.” Eddie rolled his eyes. “She’d find a way to ban you from driving too.”

“She would never,” replied Richie in a mock-scandalised voice. “I’d stop doing that thing she likes in bed.”

Eddie rolled his eyes again and Richie laughed, gently bumping Eddie’s knee with his fist in that way that Eddie pretended to hate but treasured for ages afterwards each time.

What he loved about Richie was that things could be super weird between them one moment and in the next, he would still go back to making Eddie feel like the most important person in the world to him. It should have caused whiplash, but he was so used to it at this point that it was just further evidence that neither of them was very good at staying mad at each other.

All too soon, Bill was climbing out of the car at Stan’s place and Eddie felt his mood, which hadn’t been the greatest all evening, plummet to new depths. As they watched to make sure that Bill made it safely into the house (a habit that, post-Pennywise, they’d all adopted) he began trailing his thumb along the cut on his left hand like he always did when he was nervous.

“Hey are you okay?” asked Richie who was now watching him with concern,

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Richie raised an eyebrow above the frame of his glasses. “Okay, fine, I’m lying. I don’t want to go home right now. You know my mom.”

“Biblically,” Richie smirks and Eddie thumps him in the shoulder.

“Fuck off, Rich, I’m serious. She’s going to want to know why I’m home so early and I can’t tell her the truth. I wouldn’t put it past her to track Chloe down and demand to know why she stood me up and I can’t put Chloe through that. But I also just don’t have the energy to make up a bullshit story either. I’m just… can we just drive around for a while? Just until it would be a normal time for me to come home?”

“I mean sure, but it would probably be a fuck-ton easier for you to just crash at my place tonight,”

“Oh my god, please,” Eddie replied, so relieved he could cry. “That would be an actual lifesaver. Your parents won’t mind?”

“If this is the night they start giving a shit about who I invite over and when I’m going to be so fucking pissed.”

Eddie laughed. He couldn’t help it. The idea of not going home and on top of it spending the rest of the night with Richie had him lightheaded and giddy. In response, Richie gave Eddie what to him felt like a fond smile, before starting the car and racing towards his house as quickly as he could.

Upon arriving at Richie’s house, his parents gave them both a short and friendly ‘hello’, barely looking away from whatever they were watching on TV, and a moment later they were upstairs, sitting on Richie’s bed. For the first time that night, Eddie felt himself relax completely.

“I can’t believe your parents just said ‘hi’ and left it at that,” said Eddie. “If that was my mom, I’d be there for another hour.”

“It’s just because you’re here,” Richie replied. “Trust me – if I came home alone they would have pounced.”

Eddie got the sense that Richie was just saying that to make him feel better, but he didn’t mind. They were alone for the first time in weeks and he felt like he could breathe again. He was always his most real around Richie.

“So that was senior prom,” said Richie, leaning back on his elbows. Eddie followed suit.

“That was senior prom. Did it live up to the hype?”

“Not even a little.” Richie shakes his head. “I spent ten minutes getting ready for tonight, you know that? Ten fucking minutes. That’s seven more minutes than usual. Think of all the shit I could have accomplished in that time.”

“It was worth it,” Eddie replied, hoping his blush wasn’t too obvious. He was still not completely over the sight of Richie in a suit. Richie shrugged.

“I guess.”

A silence fell between them then, full of things Eddie wanted to say but had no idea how to start. He wanted to tell Richie how much this meant to him, how sorry he was that he had accidentally brought back memories of Pennywise, how much he wanted to kiss him right now, how lonely he’d been these past few days without them talking, how sad he was that he liked Chloe, how much he wanted to kiss him right now…

“Sorry, I… I mean, sorry about not going stag with you and Bill. I know you were looking forward to it.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Richie replied. “Chloe’s great. I totally get it.”

God, he was already regretting bringing Chloe up. But this was good, he told himself. If Richie did like Chloe, he was sure it would help him get over his stupid crush on him.

“Look, Rich, I’m sorry. If I had known how you felt, I never would have asked her.”

Richie scrambled to sit upright and stared at Eddie as if he had just worked out his deepest, darkest secret. Eddie slowly sat upright too, feeling the anxiety build in the pit of his stomach. He’d started this, wanting to know for sure whether or not his assumptions were right, but now that he was about to find out, he didn’t want to.

“If you had known how I felt?” asked Richie, looking embarrassed and terrified.

“Yeah, about Chloe,” said Eddie. “I know how you feel about her. It wasn’t hard to figure out with how much you were watching her while we danced.”

Richie’s shoulders relaxed at this and Eddie wondered how long he’d had these feelings if being able to confess them was this much of a relief. Eddie watched as he sat there for a moment or two, staring through the Nirvana poster on the opposite wall before scrubbing a hand down his face, shaking his head (his curls bouncing in that way that Eddie always found adorable) and making his way over to the CD player on his desk. A few seconds later the intro to a cheesy rock ballad that Eddie vaguely recognised from how often it had played on the radio a few years back started and Richie was walking towards him with his hand open.

“Dance with me?” he asked. “Your date kind of got stolen and I feel bad that you only got that one. And, I mean, we might as well while we’re still here in our suits looking pretty.”

Part of Eddie’s brain screamed at him not to. It was a bad idea, Richie would know exactly how he felt about him and then where would they be? He’d made it clear over and over again how much of an issue he had with anything gay. But there was another, far more insistent part of his brain reminding him that Richie had been the one to ask him to dance and that if he didn’t dance with Richie Tozier now, there was no guarantee that he would ever get the chance again.

Trying very hard not to think about the state that their friendship would be in after this, he took Richie’s hand and allowed himself to be pulled into his arms. He realised a second too late that it would have been far safer and less obvious to put his hands gently on Richie’s waist than to wind his arms around his neck as he did, but the damage was done and Richie, thankfully, didn’t seem to mind.

Dancing with Richie was so different from dancing with Chloe. For one, since Chloe was shorter than Eddie, he’d been the one with the arms wrapped around her waist and she’d had her arms around his neck. They’d been dancing just as close, but it had been nothing more than swaying to the music. This was different. This was Eddie reeling from the scent of the aftershave Richie had put on for the occasion, the jolt every time their feet brushed, staring up into Richie’s brown eyes, magnified by his glasses, and trying to fight off the overwhelming sadness at how in just a few minutes this was all just going to be a memory.

They swayed together through most of the first verse before Richie spoke.

“So I suppose this is where I tell you that I don’t have feelings for Chloe,” he said. “Like, where the fuck did you even get that idea?”

“You were mad at me when I told you I was taking her to prom,” Eddie explained. “And then at the dance, you were watching her while we danced. I just, y’know, put the pieces together.”

“Yeah, congratulations, dipshit, you put them together wrong.” Richie rolled his eyes. “I was watching you. And yeah, I may have yelled, but I wasn’t mad. I was hurt and disappointed because going stag with you and Bill would have been as close as I could safely get to taking you as my date to prom.”

“Wait. You wanted to be my prom date?” Eddie stopped swaying, his head spinning with this new information. Richie had wanted to take him to prom and probably would have if society wasn’t such a bitch. “Fuck, Rich, I thought you had issues with the whole gay thing?”

“Deflection.” Richie didn’t look proud of it, pulling his gaze away from Eddie to stare at a patch of floor. “Fuck, Eds, I’ve been in love with you since we were twelve. And there’ve been so many times where I’ve wanted to tell you, but I’ve just been scared shitless to. I had no idea how you would react, if you would flip out and stop talking to me and I just couldn’t lose you. I still can’t.”

He swallowed and took a deep breath.

“You looked so upset when you thought I might have a crush on Chloe and it just… I guess it felt like for the first time you might feel the same way.” He looked up at him then and there was a jolt in Eddie’s stomach as he fully realised what was happening. Richie pulled him closer ever so slightly, and Eddie didn’t resist it. His body had turned to jello.

“Am I wrong?”

He couldn’t speak, his heart was pounding in his throat, but he somehow managed to control the muscles in his head enough to shake it.

And then before he could say anything else, Richie’s lips were on his, soft and still vaguely fruity from the punch, though he desperately tried to push that horrifying thought from his mind. Instead, Eddie focused on the little surprised hum Richie made when he parted his lips and how Richie’s arms were tightening around him, pulling them so close together that there was no space between them. With daring he didn’t know he had, he slowly slid his hands up to tangle in Richie’s curls and was met with another hum (or perhaps moan) of approval. He’d never felt anything like it. He never thought he could feel anything like it. Yesterday he would have thought this moment completely impossible, but here he was in Richie Tozier’s messy bedroom being kissed by him.

They eventually pulled apart and as Eddie rested his forehead on Richie’s shoulder, he couldn’t help but laugh.

“Fuck, was it that bad?”

“No, you dick, I’m laughing because I’ve been in love with you since I was twelve too. We’ve missed out on six years of this shit.”

“Jesus, Kaspbrak, are you fucking kidding me?” Richie pressed a kiss to the top of his head, and Eddie felt it spread through his whole body. “Why are we like this?”

“I wish I knew,” Eddie replied.

They danced the rest of the song, now so close that it was impossible to do much more than shuffle their feet, but Eddie wasn’t complaining. This was easily the best moment of his entire life.

As the song started drawing to a close, Eddie laughed again.

“Jesus, what now?” asked Richie, but there was no venom to it.

“Of all the songs in the world you could have chosen to be our first dance, you chose a Bryan Adams song.”

“Alright, al-fucking-right,” Richie replied. “Next time how about you plan out the sweeping romantic gesture and I’ll be the shithead giggling at everything?”

Eddie just laughed and kissed him again.

Later that night, after calling his mom to tell her that he would be sleeping over at Richie’s and assuring her that, no, it wasn’t because he’d been drinking, or that Richie had been drinking, that he just wanted to hang out with him, the two of them climbed into Richie’s tiny single bed. Richie was yawning already and Eddie had no idea how he could be tired at a time like this, not when a whole new world of possibilities had just opened to them.

“You want to know why I chose that song?” Richie asked, taking the hand that Eddie had not-so-subtly left on the pillow between them hoping he would do that.

“Yeah, please enlighten me.”

“I mean, it doesn’t make me sound like any less of a fucking dork, but it’s from that Robin Hood movie, Prince of Thieves. You remember? It was the first movie we saw together without the rest of the Loser’s Club and, I don’t know, now the song always reminds me of you.”

Eddie leaned over to kiss Richie again, wondering how any of this could possibly be real.

“Thank you, Rich,” he said. “For everything.”

“You’re welcome,” said Richie through a yawn, pulling Eddie closer to him and falling asleep within what felt like seconds. It took Eddie far longer, and when he eventually gave in and closed his eyes, the Robin Hood in his dream had curly dark hair and a rather anachronistic pair of glasses.

#reddie #reddie fanfic #reddie fic #richie x eddie #eddie x richie #it 2017 #i'm supposed to be writing other things #but this popped into my head and i had to write it #enjoy x #long post

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velkynkarma · 7 years

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So that happened--s4 thoughts

My thoughts on season 4, below the cut in case you didn’t catch the spoiler tags.

So. That happened. I kind of have mixed feelings on this season. I know already people are either love it or hate it. I wasn’t particularly wow-ed by it, but I didn’t hate it either. A lot of stuff happened, but at the same time, it kind of felt like it didn’t? After all their progression it felt like they just came back to square one. I dunno. There are still a lot of questions hanging out there, but I guess we’ll get those with S5. Maybe. Anyway, let’s get to my thoughts! Still no word on “Ryou” or “Kuron,” but I don’t think the concept is tanked just yet. I’m thinking Naxzela was supposed to be the trap he was supposed to set, unwittingly. When Shiro explains his plan, he takes care to point out where all the intelligence comes from, but when he points out the chain of planets with a weak link of Naxzela, he specifically says “I’ve identified.” Information that comes direct from Shiro with no additional source is suspect, especially when the entire thing was a trap set to get Voltron there and blow up the entire area of resistance, and especially when the entire plan hangs on that one piece, and especially when Shiro is the one that designed the plan in its entirety. And the weak link he “identifies” just happens to be the one place that’s rigged with a planet-sized bomb, a feat that had to have taken months at the very least to set up…and we are told it has been months since Lotor made off with his comet and Shiro has been in place, enough time for Haggar to confirm her pawn is in place, even if he doesn’t know it. We also know, thanks to her manipulation of Narti, that she can watch things through other peoples’ eyes if given time to properly set them up for it. If this Shiro is a clone or a pawn, she could certainly gain intelligence this way. It may have even been the reason Shiro couldn’t originally pilot the Black Lion—it sensed the wrong presence. And her plan was almost solid. The reason this “explode Naxzela” plan did not work was solely because Lotor turned on the Galra Empire at exactly the right moment…even Allura’s resistance was not enough to save them. Shiro was the one that put them in that position. Shiro even negated Lance’s initial orders to run when the pillars were first forming—Lance tells Pidge to plot a course for escape, and Shiro says to wait, they should figure out what it is. Those precious seconds they don’t run end up trapping them and nearly killing them. And even if he doesn’t know he’s the one that deliberately led everyone to a trap—even if it’s entirely subconscious, and he resists with everything that’s Shiro’s personality after to try and help everyone escape—that plan still would have worked but for one unpredictable factor: Lotor. Nothing Shiro could have done then could have saved them once the trap was sprung. He could have unwittingly killed all of them without ever realizing it. On the note of conspiracies, I’m not entirely convinced Narti is dead either. Lotor is a clever bastard. He likes playing with his opponent’s thought process. I think there is a reason he specifically chose Narti to come with him when he visited Haggar, even though Axca is his usual right-hand general. Narti has a few properties that Haggar can’t predict; Haggar’s druids could not figure out how Narti did her mind-wipe/mind-control thing, or that it was even her. Lotor has already used the strategy of letting his opponents “see” something that he was really controlling in past episodes, it would not surprise me if he deliberately let Haggar see something via Narti before Narti shuts it down while “playing dead.” Narti is Lotor’s ace in the hole. If she’s “dead” she’s free to move, because nobody is expecting her anymore, and she has a power nobody in the main Galra empire seems capable of predicting or understanding. She can literally go in and out of places without anyone ever remembering she was there. Her cat didn’t panic either, just sat there next to her and waited. I have to wonder if Axca is in on the plan too, though, as she was pretty adamant about trusting Lotor, and specifically took the lead in stunning Lotor for “capture” before Ezor and Zethrid could murder him for their own safety. Capture that he escaped pretty quickly (by doing something really trippy with his arms holy crap wtf was that?!) Lotor joining the alliance is at this point a necessity for him. His original plan did not work, he needs to study or steal Voltron in order to pass through realities, and the realities seem to be his primary goal for some reason. It’s still not clear why, but he seems pretty hellbent on going through and collecting the super-charged quintessence in it. Why would he need that? He doesn’t appear to have his father’s quintessence starvation thing going on, and he clearly has no love lost for either of his parents. It doesn’t seem he’s doing it for them. On the generals, my original guess was going to be that Axca, Ezor and Zethrid would have joined the Voltron alliance. Clearly their loyalties aren’t to the Galra empire, and that’s not really surprising either—based on the way the generals talked about them in S3E1, they’re all Galra half-breeds, and blood purity seems to be a big thing in the Empire. They were loyal to Lotor, enough to attack the Galra empire for his own ends. He broke that chain, so the first thing they tried to do was save their own ass by turning him in, but if that’s not an option…”If you can’t beat’em, join’em.” But we didn’t see them again, so my guess is either A) Axca is in on the aforementioned speculated plan, and is cutting Zethrid and Ezor in on it, or B) they’re going to go into play in some other way to save their lives. I’m not sure they could form any kind of alliance with Voltron if Lotor is also there as there is now bad blood between them…although curiously, Lotor was surprisingly understanding about the three of turning on him. Which is weird, as he has shown he can get violent over disloyalty or failure, just like his father, even in Season 3. And to round out the conspiracy train, wtf is up with Zarkon’s armor this season? It’s deliberately hiding his face, which we never actually see. I wonder if he’s entirely 100% alive again? He’s feeding on that super-charged quintessence stuff, it seems...he’s now wearing the same tanks that Galra warden used in S2E10. He was also curiously not a focus this season, despite being the big bad. The summary of what he does this season is put on his armor, tell Haggar she was dumb for putting Lotor in charge, and then flip his shit when Lotor turned on him and spend the rest of the season hunting him down and nearly killing himself (for a third time????) in the process. Very weird...and also, an interesting distraction technique. Haggar seemed curiously uncaring about Zarkon this season, too, which is a big change from her steadfast loyalty in seasons 1 and 2. They barely interact. For the Naxzela incident some Galra generals even tell her ‘dude should we get Zarkon and take care of this’ and her answer is ‘no, we got dis, don’t call him, he’s too busy chasing Lotor.’ I am absolutely positive Zarkon would never have approved the Naxzela plan, not because of the wholesale murder but because Voltron would have been destroyed too, and he wants that more than anything. She’s working behind his back, and possibly keeping him busy on a wild goose chase. But what’s most interesting is the biggest change for her this season is she has her memories back now—we see her practically having a mental breakdown looking at her reflection with her skin color changed, envisioning how she used to be. She remembers that her and Zarkon had a pretty solid relationship, and her first reaction is to put as much distance as possible between them and start going behind his back? I’m not an expert on relationships but that strikes me as very weird. Now, Keith. I’ve got some friends who are big Keith fans and I have a feeling they’re already not liking this season since Keith is barely in it, which really sucks for them. I am sorry, my Keith-fan friends D: On that note though, I’ve been noticing a really weird trend for Keith through all 4 seasons so far. Each season introduces a major plot element of awesome thing for him, and then next season it’s like that major plot point or element just...doesn’t exist anymore. “Lol, we thought this was awesome and we introduced this but then we decided no.” Here’s the breakdown currently:

Season One: Keith goes lone wolf and unlocks the Rail Gun on his Red Lion against Zarkon himself, the turning point in him surviving the first part of the battle and establishing these alternative weapons exist. This weapon has literally not been seen again since, making it seem a bit deus-ex at this point. Keith doesn’t use it again, and neither has Lance.

Season Two: Keith is Galra!!!!! Blade of Marmora!!!! Big surprise!!!! Also his connection with Red is like SUPER STRONG!! Never uses his blade in Season 3, the BoM connections are barely touched on outside the first season, doesn’t even pilot the Red Lion anymore

Season Three: Keith, you’re the leader now. It’s super important and we’re going to spend the entire season building up this Important Position you’ve taken as being the leader. We’re even going to clash you against Shiro as leader just to prove you’re important as a leader, too. Teamwork is important, you need to learn that and stuff. Oh wait, never mind—Season 4 called, they want your lone wolf persona back. Kthnx.

Season Four: Keith’s totally BOM now. I wonder how long THAT will last.

At this current pattern, Season Five will include Keith leaving the Blade of Marmora for his next plot hook of the season. I’m calling it now. That said, we did see some character elements of his return or get stronger despite his limited appearances, which I found intriguing. In the first episode he goes back to ostensibly save his companion, and maybe that was part of it, but he also went back to save the mission and get the data, and says as much. This is a call back to the ruthless big-picture Keith we saw a little of in season 1, which could possibly be set up as a point of contention for him later. It’s been hidden a little recently with his big focus on Shiro, which seems to be the one thing Keith will break that “the world before you or I” mentality. Keith was also (scarily) about to do a suicide run to try and save the world, which means he is not exempt from his own big-picture focus. I wonder what that will mean later. Other big character reveals—Matt is back! Now, I’m gonna confess, unpopular opinion here, I wasn’t a huge fan of Matt back in S1. Less because of his character (I mean...he didn’t have any character back then, other than ‘really likes ice samples’ and ‘literally nobody thinks he’ll survive a fight, including himself’). More because of his voice actor. I dunno, his lines in S1 felt very flat and fake to me when surrounded by a cast that just felt so natural. I’m happy to see that his VA got a handle on it though for S4, because he grew on me. I actually really loved Pidge’s episode to find him, which gave her some great development, and I love seeing their interactions. Probably one of my favorites this season. I also adored seeing him, Pidge and Hunk geeking out and getting their tech on together, and it was cool to see him co-piloting in the Green Lion! (You can get more chairs, incidentally. Interesting). He actually has a personality now too! That’s great. I am still curious about a few things that he never bothered to explain though, like why the rebels rescued him (him specifically? Were they just liberating an entire cell block?). Or the fact that he never really interacted with Shiro outside that one initial meeting, which was odd. You’d think he’d at least be like “hey, thanks for risking your life to save mine that one time” or at least “holy shit what did they do to your ARM.” And what about Sam? That poor bastard, he was barely talked about either. He’s out there too somewhere, somebody save him! And last big character point of interest for me, in the very last episode, Lance and Allura had a really great moment. I found it interesting that although pep talks are Shiro’s thing, it was LANCE that convinced Allura she could empower Voltron and get them out of there, even without training. (They mentioned training too, I’m guessing that will be a focus soon for Allura). Actually, Lance had a few interesting moments in this series where he took more of a lead role, which I found interesting. His are more subtle (and buried in a mountain of moments with him being exited about showing off in the shows and morale parades), but there are a few instances in which he does take control or leads the team in the absence of a leader. When the refugees are attacked and Keith is absent, Lance gives a few initial suggestions about how they should attack that are not-quite-orders, but they are suggestions the others take. As stated earlier, Lance is the first one to say they need to run on Naxzela, which would have been the right move, but Shiro shuts it down (which may have been a subconscious trap). I think he’s learning to be more impulsive and commanding in a pinch and starting to learn more split-second reaction from his new Lion. I don’t think he’d be quite ready to lead the full team (he still appears to be very attention driven which is not a strong quality for a leader), but he’s certainly maturing. Okay, now on to some less obvious or detail observations! By far the hardest episode for me to get through was S4E4. I can take all manner of angst, intense fight scenes, etc, but secondhand embarrassment kills me, and this ep had it in spades with the whole “Voltron show” thing. It was funny, I’m not gonna deny that, I was laughing a lot too, but I was also pausing like every thirty seconds because I Just Can’t Even. The puns, the references to every sentai show ever, the way Lance was getting so into it, Coran’s weird hybrid accent, “forming Voltron,” I just. Agh. But by far, the biggest call out (or possibly smack in the face) was this one: Coran: Except for you Shiro, I’ll never get rid of you. You’re our most popular character!!!! Lance:…wait, YOU’RE our most popular character?! Shiro: -_- Methinks the team has heard us on this one. Also, in the first episode, I’m not gonna lie...when Keith got himself ejected into space—AGAIN—I was half expecting the Red Lion to just break formation and abandon the parade to go save him. With Lance still in it. Though that probably would have caused more angst in the long run, if Red still considers Keith its “real” paladin enough to go save him. That would mean Lance can’t measure up, or that Red picks a paladin that abandoned the rest over him. So I guess it’s good that didn’t happen. KALTERNECKER LIVES. And has her own little area on the ship with holograms to look like Earth. And they can get milk from her which means she had a baby cow recently. And Hunk makes milkshakes with her milk! And Coran and Allura love them and don’t get brainfreeze but think the cow just makes them! And Lance has to show them how to milk a cow and they are completely 10000000% appalled. I fucking died. At all of it. 10/10 best part of the whole season. “This is our cow.” “How did you—” In the same episode we learn they FINALLY got their Mercury Gameflux II working, so that’s awesome. I adore that Lance was just sitting around in his PJ’s playing video games. I wish he’d recruited Allura and Coran to help him win. Haggar has a rank, “High Priestess.” Which implies some degree of religious belief. However, almost everyone else outside the druids appear to refer to her as “the witch.” Which implies some societal divides between the main Galra and the druids. Hmmm... Not that it came as a surprise to anyone, but Lotor confirmed his mama is Haggar. Still no idea when he was born though. Hmmm... When he does make this reveal, he actually pointed out something that I myself had been puzzling over a lot since S3. Alfor claimed to have destroyed the rift by blowing up Daibazaal. But it’s a rift to another reality. Would blowing up the physical matter it happened to appear on do anything to destroy the tear itself? I had wondered how Alfor’s attempt was even successful, and apparently it wasn’t. Still want to know what the hell he plans to do with this knowledge, though. BUT WHERE THE FUCK WAS SLAV THIS SEASON OKAY. SHIT and I just realized Shiro never used his bayard WE STILL DON’T KNOW WHAT IS FOR FUCK’S SAKE OKAY! That’s a lot of thoughts, and I’m sure I’m forgetting quite a lot, but there’s my initial feedback.

#voltron season 4 #voltron spoilers #voltron #velkynkarma thoughts

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dvddggs · 7 years

Text

To the Four of Us (Part Thirteen)

premise: modern AU chronicling the squad as they make their way through college and deal with general life things.

words: 2,328

warnings: swearin and i think that’s it tbh

a/n: i had this chapter planned out as fluff in my head but where’s the fun in that tbh lol enjoy

all chapters: x

tags: @heythereitsloey @anitheunicorn @newyorkyoucanbeanew @lafbagxette @justafangirlwithanavy @iamgrayfox @ordinaryornate @schuylerjoon @angelica-peggy-eliza @trashyperson101 @crazydragon15 @geespilots @marvelous-hamilfan @5p00kygh05t @panda-powers

dedication: @but-if-you-had-to-choose bc she is my fav and draws amazing art (her art blog is @abbydextrous-art) and @skittlegeek03 for the jmads (and art)!!!!

soundtrack song: Coffee Shop Soundtrack - All Time Low

full soundtrack: x

let me know what you thought of this one!! reblog to share w a friend and lemme know if you want me to tag you in updates! alsO IM A SLUT FOR FANART ((do w this info anything u like :-) )))

Alexander ended up spending the night in John’s bed. And the next night. And the one after that. Lafayette knew because he could hear them fucking until 2 o’clock in the morning all week long. He didn’t understand why they always needed to be in John’s room.

“Listen,” Lafayette told them one morning. “I understand that you need to ‘make up for lost time’ or whatever, but can’t you do it in Alex’s room once in awhile? I can’t sleep. And listening to your bed frame smack against the wall for hours is, in a word, disturbing.”

John just laughed, kissing Alex on the cheek.

“Hercules told us that if we even think about banging in my room he’ll beat me up,” Alexander said matter-of-factly. “And honestly I wouldn’t put it past him. So, no. Sorry, Laf.”

Lafayette scowled and stomped back into his room, slamming the door shut behind him.

“Oh well,” John laughed. “He’ll be fine.”

“No I won’t,” Lafayette yelled back.

It was finally Friday and the guys couldn’t have been more relieved. It had been the longest week of their lives. They’d been planning their Friday night outing since the middle of the week and, as much as it made Alexander feel guilty to admit it, he was glad to not be stuck in his room for Movie night Fridays anymore. John was a bit more free-spirited than Thomas was, so they both planned on getting hammered that night.

It wasn’t until he got to class that he remembered he and Thomas were in the same ones on Fridays. He sat down at the front of the lecture hall, as far away from their usual spot as he could manage. He didn’t look up once for fear of catching Thomas’s eye, but was relieved to find that the spot beside him had been filled so that he wouldn’t have to—

“Hamilton.”

Alexander froze. He didn’t recognize the voice of the person sitting beside him, but he didn’t sound happy.

Looking up, he instantly recognized the guy as Thomas’s friend.

“Hey,” Alexander began slowly. “You’re James, right?”

James nodded without breaking eye contact.

“Listen,” he said. “You really hurt Thomas. I mean, shit. I’ve never seen him like this. He wouldn’t even come to class today. You need to at least talk to him. I don’t want to start anything—really, I don’t—but he didn’t do anything wrong. Who knows, maybe you guys can work it out, right? I mean, it was just one kiss.”

Alexander bit his lip, a wave of guilt overtaking him.

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “It was just one kiss.”

As the day went on, Alexander pushed the conversation with James out of his head. He was going out with his friends that night and was determined to enjoy it. He could worry about Thomas on Saturday.

Alexander’s professor dismissed his last class of the day five minutes early and it took all of his willpower to not sprint back to his room to get ready to go out. It had been the longest and most dramatic week of his life and all he wanted to do was get drunk, make out with John, and forget about all of the problems he hadn’t yet dealt with.

Dropping his backpack unceremoniously to the floor, he pulled his hair out of the bun it was in and shook his head to loosen it. He was in the middle of changing from his sweats to jeans when John barged in the door, followed by Lafayette and Hercules.

John bit his lip, smirking at Alexander’s boxers. “Okay,” he murmured. “Y’all are gonna have to leave before I tear those off him.”

“You’re nasty,” Hercules sighed, padding across the floor to his room, Lafayette in tow.

“Oui. Whatever you do, hurry the fuck up, because I wanna go get my drink on!”

As they left, Alexander could hear Hercules grumble something about how only middle-aged wine moms say, “get my drink on,” and Lafayette cursing out John for teaching him that phrase.

They sat on Hercules’s bed and tried to drown out the sound of their best friends fucking in the middle of the afternoon by watching Netflix at full volume. It was working, quite successfully, until they heard a particularly loud moan from through the walls.

“That was John,” Lafayette mumbled.

“No way,” Hercules replied. “It was definitely Alex.”

They were interrupted by a particularly violent yelp, after which Laf yelled, “WE GET IT. YOU’RE HAVING SEX. SHUT THE FUCK UP.”

Hercules cracked up and held out his hand for Laf to shake. “Ten bucks says both of those were Alex.”

“You’re on.”

Ten more minutes passed before the godawful sex noises subsided and John and Alexander burst into Hercules’s room looking dishevelled. Alexander was buttoning his plaid shirt, chest rising and falling rapidly, and John was tying his wild mane of hair back.

“You should leave it down,” Alexander said. “It looks hot.”

Lafayette suppressed a snicker into his palm—the only reason Alexander thought that was because it was John’s sex hair. Laf had seen it countless mornings after John had kicked his catch of the day out of his bed. And it wasn’t hot.

“So whose moans were those at the end there?” Hercules asked, trying not to laugh. John instantly broke into hysterics and Alexander turned bright red. “Told you.”

“Merde,” Lafayette muttered, passing Hercules a ten dollar bill.

“This is why we use your room,” Alexander said to John. “Are you guys ready to go?”

John shrugged and tangled his fingers in Alexander’s. Herc and Laf followed them out the door and they headed downtown to a house party that they’d heard about. They huddled together for warmth as they walked, Alexander and John in the middle of the pack.

“Watch this,” John whispered to Alex, cocking his head at his roommate as they strolled down the sidewalk. “Hey, Laf.”

“Yes?”

“I think you’ve got a bit of up-dog on your shoulder, there.”

“What—what’s up-dog?”

Everyone started cracking up, except poor Lafayette who looked between the three of them, confused as hell. When Laf made eye contact with John, John physically stopped walking and doubled over to catch his breath because of how hard he was laughing.

“Oh my god, Laf,” he wheezed between fits of laughter. “I love you so much. You’re so pure.”

John wiped tears of laughter from his eyes and took Alexander’s outstretched hand.

“I still don’t understand,” Laf mumbled, forcing another fit of laughter from his friends.

Unlike usual, once they got to the party the four of them stuck together. It had been so long since they’d all been out at the same time that they were all acting clingy.

John and Alexander were practically wrapped around each other, and had been for the entire night. Every time John pulled away to get another drink or talk to a friend, Alexander would pull him back into his arms as soon as was humanly possible and kiss him like he hadn’t seen him in months.

“Stopppp,” Lafayette slurred, wine drunk.

“Why, Sugar?” John asked, his southern drawl exaggerated in his drunken state. “You jealous?”

John leaned over and kissed Lafayette sloppily on the cheek, which he wiped off hastily and went to go and find Hercules.

“His loss,” Alexander muttered to John, who smiled and kissed him deeply.

They migrated to the centre of the living room and began dancing together. Alexander made eye contact with John and he broke into a grin. Getting drunk had worked—John was the only thing on his mind and he was absolutely bursting with happiness.

John locked his fingers behind Alexander’s neck as they turned in slow-paced circles which directly opposed the upbeat club music that was playing, but he didn’t care. Part of him felt crazy for being this happy about the cheesy slow dance with his best friend but another, larger part felt ecstatic. He was filled-to-the-brim, overflowing, almost sickeningly happy. Beaming, he leaned in and kissed Alex on the cheek.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

Alexander pulled back, confused. “For what?”

John shrugged. “I dunno. Just…thank you.”

Alexander grinned, but it almost immediately faltered and turned into a look of shock.

“What?” John asked, surprised.

Alexander dropped his contact with John and turned around to face out the window.

“Nothing. Just—there we go—no…it’s nothing.”

John raised an eyebrow as Alexander shook his hair forward to cover his face. Why was he acting so weird all of a sudden?

“Lex,” John pressed. “What is it?”  Alexander simply shook his head, lips pressed tightly together. John furrowed his brow as Hercules came rushing over, Maria in tow. She seemed to be his regular party hookup, but they were all surprised it hadn’t yet become more.

“Alex,” he said quickly. “Did you see—”

Alexander shook his head warningly, but his eyes gave him away as they flashed in the direction of the mood change. John turned around and saw the back of someone who could only be Thomas Jefferson.

“It’s fine,” Alexander said quickly.

“Are you—oh, hi, Maria—are you going to talk to him?” Laf asked as he joined the discussion circle.

Alexander shrugged and glanced at John. He hadn’t told him what James said in class earlier that day about it only being one kiss and about Alexander and Thomas working it out. He knew this probably wouldn’t end well, but—hey—there was going to be a confrontation at some point and what better time than with a bit of liquid confidence in his system, right?

“Thomas,” Alexander said as he walked purposefully towards his ex, who towered over him.

“Oh, Alexander.”

“Listen,” Alexander began. “I know you probably don’t want to hear this, but I’m really sorry for the way things ended earlier. I never wanted to hurt you.”  To his intense surprise, Thomas smiled a bit.

“You know what,” he replied. “I’ve been thinking about it a lot and it’s okay. I mean, it was just a kiss, right? I kind of overreacted. I mean, I’m over it.”

John watched the two converse from afar, unable to hear what they were saying. He noticed that Lafayette held a hand on his shoulder while they watched Thomas laugh at whatever Alexander was saying.

Then, without so much as a warning, Thomas bent down and slowly and tenderly kissed Alexander’s cheek. John’s jaw dropped and Lafayette’s grip on his shoulder tightened as he subconsciously began to walk towards the scene. Why was Thomas kissing Alexander if he knew he was with John?

There was only one explanation that made sense in John’s head: Thomas didn’t know.

“Oh, hell no,” John muttered as Hercules assisted Lafayette by placing a hand on John’s other shoulder.

They watched as Thomas ended the kiss, shifting back to look at Alexander. And the longer he looked, the worse things seemed to get. Then John remembered: the hickeys on Alexander’s jaw. Thomas’s face twisted from a contented expression to one of pain to one of intense anger. John, Lafayette, and Hercules watched as Thomas gestured angrily to Alexander’s jawline then to John. As his voice rose, they could make out snippets of what he was saying.

“Goddammit, do you know how fucking embarrassing this is for me?…You’re a fucking asshole…We haven’t even been apart for a week…whore…fucking John? Already?…fuck off…”

They watched as Thomas’s friend James flew to his side, apologizing profusely for something. He was also berating Alexander, who stood by expressionless.

“Fuck, guys, let me go!” John said, breaking free of his friends’ grasp and rushing to Alexander’s side just in case. Things were heating up pretty fast and he wasn’t exactly sure how Alex would hold up in a fight.

“Oh, and here comes the dirty little mistress now,” Thomas spat, gesturing towards John. “Do you have any shame whatsoever, or are you just that thirsty?”

“Thomas, leave John the fuck out of this,” Alexander muttered defensively.

“It’s fine, Lex,” John said without taking his eyes off of Thomas. “He’s drunk as hell.”

“Fuck you,” Thomas said to no one in particular.

“Come on, Thomas,” James said quietly, tugging on his jacket. “Let’s just go.”

Thomas jerked away from his friend and continued to glare at Alexander and John, eyes filled with anger.

Before John could turn and pull Alexander away from the confrontation, Alexander stepped forward and looked up so he was as close to Thomas’s face as he could get.

“In case you forgot,” Alexander growled. “You dumped me. I didn’t ask for that, Thomas. I told you the truth because I made a mistake and I didn’t want you to find out another way. You made the choice to end it. Not me.”

And then everything happened at once. Thomas’s fist was in the air and he punched Alexander square in the jaw—right where John’s hickeys were—and Alexander fell past John onto the ground gasping in pain and John cried out as Hercules and Lafayette sprinted across the room, kneeling to the ground at his side.

Alexander’s eyes fluttered as he saw stars, dizzy with what was surely the most intense pain he’d ever felt. He vaguely noticed that he was falling as the room silenced around him. He heard Thomas, as if through a tunnel, say, “Add that to your little collection of bruises,” before he walked away. He registered that he was on the floor when Lafayette and Hercules surrounded him, closely followed by John and the rest of the people in the house. His vision went spotty as he felt Lafayette gently lift his head and place it in his lap. He heard someone say, “He needs an ambulance,” and John say, “Oh my god, Alex,” and Hercules say, “He’s going to pass out,” before everything around him went black and the pain subsided.

#FAN.ART. PLEASE>#ttfou #to the four of us

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