#the last bullet point could lead me onto a whole other tangent

[starvingtongue]

mini watcher headcanons

Having no concept of gender, The Watcher doesn’t mind what pronouns you give them. It doesn’t concern them to 'have' a gender, as it’s never been something they’ve needed to think about, nor is it something that were ever a necessity with Guardians as a whole.

They don't really need to eat or drink much to survive. Sleep is necessary though, as it helps their body regenerate in much the same way that humans do, but they don’t need much of it to get by. I’m half tempted to say they ‘consume’ Eridium to give themselves more energy instead of food but maybe that's cheating. Considering they're also a bio-mechanical construct, food and water don't quite do as much for them as it would for humans.

They have a fondness for glowing flora or just anything glowing in general tbh. It reminds them of home, so any time they see anything glowing, they do stop and admire it for a couple of seconds. Not that there’s much glowing plant life on Pandora but they take what they can get.

They also have no concept of sexuality. Prior to getting heavily involved with humans, they identify as asexual/aromantic, and even after, still identifies as asexual. Their aromanticism as kind of developed into greyromanticism as a result of interacting with humans. Having never exeperienced sex, love, romance, all of that, they never developed a sense of understanding about what sexuality was until they started observing humans. I'm also very much under the impression that they didn't even begin to understand the concept until they became fully sentient either. Even after experiencing it in some semblance of the word, the asexuality remained and they realised they might be capable of love, but it would on very rare occasions.

The Guardians don't have the same view of sex as humans do, their bodies are bio-mechanical constructs after all, and they don't even need to have sex to procreate. This is something I'm hoping to touch on more in another headcanon, but as Guardian bodies are bio-mechanical in nature, their bodies are engineered, then their wispy souls are implanted when one's available. This is to keep their defenses up, and meant that the Eridians didn't have to worry about long gestation periods, the aging process, training, etc. The Guardians could be created in the 'perfect' body needed for the situation, the next available soul would possess the body, and off they'd go.

[inkrabbit]

Through His Property

I randomly had a thought for this, said fuck it and wrote a fic. Enjoy

Summary: After the truck’s engine gives out, Dan leads his little brother home. Too caught up in conversation, he doesn’t realize they’ve hopped the wrong fence on their journey back until it’s too late.

Word count: 1,895

“Dunno what you’re doin’ out here this late,” Walking down the road, Dan glances over at his younger brother, letting out a yawn and going to pop his neck. “Wasn’t Alex supposed to drive ya home?”

“Alex bailed,” he replies bitterly, looking anywhere but at him. “Steph shows her face and he forgets all about me.”

 Dan groans, rolling his eyes. It had been the second time this week he had to come to Sam’s aid, the teen needing a ride home from some stupid party that was too far from home. He should’ve just let him walk and experience the consequences he did when he would go to parties, but those thoughts were always dashed away when he would call, whining into the receiver about how one of his friends weren’t bringing him home for some reason.

 Tonight, however, had been different. Dan had come to pick him up like a good brother, sure, having stolen his dad’s keys and took the truck in the dead of night to drive out to some obscure address he was sent. Problems started to rise after five minutes into the ride home, the truck’s engine starting to smoke. Dan had cursed to high heavens, pulling off to the side of the road and getting out. He had popped the hood and went to unlatch it, the smoke pouring out and making him cough. He already had an idea of what was wrong, having kicked aside an empty container of oil when he got in the first time. Sure enough, the oil’s stick is completely dry when he pulls it out. Dammit. Sam had suggested they wait in the truck until someone came, but after an hour of sitting around, they decided to test their luck walking. “We’ll end up home eventually,” Dan had told him.

 They didn’t know how long they had been walking, Sam telling him the latest that was going on in his little friend group to keep them occupied. It seemed like nothing but drama, and it was quite the change from what he was used to himself. The parties he had been to were calmer, albeit a few drunken fights here and there. But the gossip he was hearing, it made him appreciate that he had only gotten into a few brawls.

 Climbing a wooden fence, the teens make their way through the old field. Dan’s on some tangent now, chastising his brother for the stupid decisions he’s making and the road he’s going down. Sure, Sam throws some things back in his face, making it a point to bring up the night he had gotten arrested for trying to hotwire a car. A stupid mistake, he would admit, but he pushed their conversation away from the subject.

“I’m just tellin’ ya,” he sighs, looking around the field. Where exactly were they? He didn’t recognize anything, but the damn clouds had dimmed the moon’s glow. Were they going the right way? “You keep goin’ down this path, and you’re gonna regret it.”

“I know,” It’s a familiar tone, irritated and tired of hearing the lecture. It was the same one he had given his parents. “I’ll be fine, alright? I know what I’m doin’.”

“Ya better hope so,” His reply is quiet, too focused on trying to pinpoint exactly where they are. He’s tracing the black silhouettes, mapping out the treeline and… had that little house always been there?

“You even listenin’ to me, Dan?” Sam reaches out to nudge his brother’s shoulder, an irritated look on his face.

“No,” he confesses blandly, finally turning to meet his gaze. “Hey, you know where we are?”

“I was just following you,” It’s not the reply he’s looking for, but now that he’s brought it up, Sam’s looking around as well. “Don’t uh… remember any of this.”

“Yeah, that’s what I was thinkin’,” He groans, bringing a hand up to rub his face. “Shite. Think we hopped the wrong fence.”

“Should we go back, or…?” That’s when Dan hears it. Among the crickets chirping and his brother trailing off, it’s the soft click that sends a chill up his spine. He knows where they are now, the old stories he heard growing up hitting him like a train. Out of all the properties they had to walk across, he had to pick the one that belonged to Mr. Henry, a crazy old man with an itchy trigger finger.

 The shot rings out, a deafening pop that has Sam screaming and Dan dragging him down to the ground. The bullet flies past them, embedding itself in a nearby tree. His grip is harsh as he drags the younger teen up, the two running as another shot rings out, this one closer. He shoves Sam in front of him, the two headed for the treeline in an attempt to lose him. He can feel the adrenaline take over, blood rushing in his ears as his heart starts racing. His mind feels clouded, but the one and only thought he can think of right now is to get them to safety.

 Reaching out, he grabs onto Sam’s jacket and tugs him to the side, the two crouched behind a fallen tree and panting heavily. Mr. Henry is yelling, his voice raspy as he calls out to them. He’s shining a flashlight around, his movements steady and looking for movement in the blinding light. Dan risks it as he looks around, admiring everything the flashlight picks up as it scans through the trees. He doesn’t see a whole lot, nothing that could help them get away from the man anyway. They duck down further behind the old log as the light passes over them, and he catches the fearful look in Sam’s eyes.

“We’re gonna get out of this,” he murmurs to him. When the light passes over and the man is looking elsewhere, the two move from their spot, crouched down and sticking close together. They’re running when they notice the light flood behind them, a bullet ripping into the ground and making Sam jump up. He’s quick to grab onto Dan’s jacket, the older teen stumbling forward and almost losing his footing as he’s pulled upright. He follows his brother deeper into the woods, both beyond lost at this point. Nothing looked familiar, and it only increased his paranoia. Mr. Henry probably knew these woods inside and out, and they didn’t have a clue where they were going.

 Coming up on an old shed, it finally happens. A bullet rips through Dan’s jean’s, just grazing the surface of his thigh and making him hiss out in pain. He stumbles forward when he tries to put his weight on it to keep running. Sam catches him before he can fall to the ground, leading him into the shed and dropping to the ground when another shot rings out. The bullet flies through the door, hitting the wall just under a table on the other side of the room. Willing himself forward, Dan plants his hands on the counter, panting heavily as he stares down at the old shotgun laying there. He glances over to Sam, watching him cower in the corner of the shed, whimpering softly as he tries to catch his breath. With shaky hands, he reaches over to the opened box of shotgun shells, fumbling to pour them out and into his hand. He’s moving too fast, body shaking as he tries to ignore the stinging in his leg – tries to ignore the distant screaming that’s getting closer. He can barely focus, worried that the next gunshot is going to rip right through his spine and he’s going to die right there.

 His father’s voice rings out in his head, the old lessons he had years ago when he was first interested in learning about guns. He tries to focus on what he’s meant to do, trying to calm the shaking in his hands as he places a single shell into the loading flap. The yelling is getting louder, and it makes him sick to hear an excited tone in the man’s voice. He pushes the shell forward, the click bringing him some peace. There’s no time to load more, and he finds himself for once praying, begging to no one in particular that he makes this shot count. Holding the slide release, he uses the last of his fading strength to pump the slide. Slowly limping away from the door, he takes a stand by the end of the table, barrel trained on the entrance.

“Ya thought ya could come onto me property!” Mr. Henry calls out, cackling as his footsteps grow closer. Just a little more. “Now look at ya! Trapped like the rats you are!”

 When he gets right outside the door, Dan pulls the trigger, bracing himself for the harsh recoil. It puts strain on his leg and he grits his teeth, falling a bit and leaning against the wall behind him. They hear the distinct sound of the man falling to the ground, a disgusting choking noise to follow. Sam slowly gets up, rushing over to his brother and pulling him upright, hooking his arm around his waist and letting him lean against him. Both of their ears are ringing from the shot, the shotgun being dropped to the ground. Hearts pounding, the two make their way for the shed’s now busted door. Mr. Henry was laying on the ground, choking up blood as his hand weakly holds onto his stomach.

“Looks like we ain’t trapped anymore,” Sam grumbles. He tries not to look for too long, the sight of the old man making him sick. He can see an old dock behind the shed, and he can hear the soft sound of a boat creaking on the water. He feels relieved, his grip on Dan tightening as he leads him over.

“Told ya we’d get out of this,” Dan chuckles as they make their way across the wooden dock, footsteps heavy and tired.

“Where do you think this goes?” He helps the older teen into the boat first, unsteady and almost scared. Removing the decaying rope from the wooden post, Sam slowly eases himself into the boat next, laying the rope on the floor.

“Uh… somewhere? Hell if I know,” Dan’s looking around, bringing a hand up to scratch at his beard. His free hand is clamped around his thigh, blood staining his jeans and skin.

“… ya ain’t gonna tell ma about this, are ya?” Sam’s question makes the older teen scowl as he gestures to his leg.

“Oh, sure!” he snaps, “Tell her how, not only did we screw up dad’s truck, but were chased through the woods, I got shot, and then I killed old man Henry!”

“It would be quite the story,” he chuckles. Dan just mocks him as he turns to look out at the calm waters. “Ya think we’ll get home soon?”

“We’ll get somewhere eventually,” he assures him. The silence that falls over them is peaceful as the boat slowly continues its journey through the water. The clouds have passed now, allowing the moon to illuminate their way. They still weren’t anywhere they could identify, but once they hit land, they were confident they would find their way home. Looking at Dan, Sam finally speaks:

“Do you remember where we left the truck?”

[starrywonn]

february spring

request: can you do a han jisung bullet point scenario with a fantasy au??? like he's the prince and y/n's his knight or something oof :'>

a/n: i had to rewrite this like four times that's why this took so long anyways this is my first request in a REALLY long time :”))) i hope you enjoy it!! pairing: prince! han jisung/knight! reader genre: fluff scenario type: bulletpoint scenario word count: 1.6k

warnings: cursing (like one time)

sunlight pours into the window of your bedroom, piercing your eyes

you immediately get off your bed to get prepared for the day ahead

you dress in your plainclothes and make your way towards the stone castle that made your residence seem like a dwarf

the thudding of your running feet fills the empty corridor

the armoury was chillingly silent

you hastily put your armour on and place your sword in the sheath

you speed walk to the prince’s room

just on time

the prince had just woken up, his hair an absolute mess, eyes droopy and low

“mornin’ y/n”

“morning. i see you had a good night’s sleep?”

“only the best,” he says airily

you wait patiently outside the bathroom as he gets ready

he comes out of the bathroom with a completely different aura

his hair was now neater, his cream coloured night clothes replaced with a deep blue tunic and trousers

"ok let's go. you're gonna be late"

despite only recently beginning to guard jisung, you had already fallen into a routine

he was about your age which shocked him at first

his guards were always way older than him

it was insane that someone his age was already one of the top fighters in the land

he always pestered you to tell him how you got that good but all you would tell him was “lots of practice”

he’d give you an annoyed look but after a while, he stopped asking

getting back to the task at hand, you quickly think of the lessons he had to go to

out of the large array of classes, he had ruling, sword fighting, horse riding, etiquette and archery today

sometimes, it felt like you were babysitting him more than you were his bodyguard

you had to attend all the boring lectures with him too zzz

finally, it was his last class of the day

archery

ah, archery

what pain it caused jisung

every time you see him shoot, you kind of want to lose it

his face was always scrunched up in a weird way whenever he tried to shoot

give him a sword and he’d best anyone any day but archery was a different story

but at least this one thing deflates his stupid huge ego so he doesn't get his head stuck up in the clouds

“y/nnnnnn can’t you just teach me??? all my teacher does is get me to copy you. you might as well teach me right??”

you? teach him?

“well, technically, i'm not qualified to”

jisung pouts at you

“but if you want me to, i GUESS i can” you say as you roll your eyes

“you can’t take it back!!”

“HHHHH”

dinner comes around

all jisung does is sit at the table, scarf down delicious food and give you mischievious looks

you glance large mounds of food dished on gold and silver platters

but you can’t eat any of it! too bad

so obviously, your best choice is to go back to staring at the wall

you’re so out of it that when the king calls out your name, you almost jump out of your skin

“yes, your majesty?”

“i asked if you would be alright to teach jisung archery from now on.”

“of course, your majesty! it would be such an honour to be able to do so”

jisung gleams towards your direction and you shoot back an annoyed look

“very well! i will make the necessary arrangements.”

the dinner was finished without much fuss and as you walk jisung back to his bedchambers, he seemed to be almost skipping

was he really that happy to be coached by you?

“good night y/n, see you tomorrow!!”

“good night”

the next thing you know, it's the next day and you and jisung were in front of the archery targets in the fields

jisung was showing you how he usually shot

immediately, you could see his mistakes

“you have to take into account the wind. aiming for the centre doesn’t mean that you will hit it.”

jisung nodded, adjusted his bow and shot again

he finally hit the target

it involved lots of death glares, cursing the gods and jisung almost breaking the bow more than once

but after two weeks, he could hit bullseyes repeatedly

least to say you were proud of him

but also a little suspicious that he failed with his other coaches on purpose

jisung proudly announces his achievement to nearly everyone he meets

the king and queen were over the moon and immediately wanted to reward jisung

“if there’s anyone you should reward, it’s y/n. they’re the one who helped me,” jisung pointed out

“ah, y/n! is there any way we can repay you?”

you froze

you never thought about being repaid at all

you shook your head

“it’s alright, your majesty. i just did my job. in fact, it’s prince jisung who shot those bullseyes so i can’t say i really did much”

the king waves off your excuse, “nonsense! if you ever wish for anything, let us know! we’ll be more than happy to get it for you”

“thank you, your majesty”

as jisung makes his fortnightly visit to the villages, he brings up the spring festival

his horse is in a slow trot

he goes off on a tangent and rambles on and on about everything under the sun

he gestures so much you get dizzy looking

but you can see the sparkle of anticipation and excitement in them as he talks animatedly

it's cute, you think to yourself

wait, hold on, you’re not supposed to think this way about him

you shake your head, willing yourself out of it

“so of course, we’ll be attending as guests-of-honour but i want to experience the festival for real”

“for real?” you quirk your eyebrow

“yea! for real! like going out to the streets and like, getting to eat all the snacks we want kind of real?”

“but what about your parents? wouldn't they want you there with them?”

"who cares what they think! getting to go to the festival is a once in a lifetime opportunity!"

"and how would manage to avoid everyone?"

your jaw drops as he explains his plan

this boy really has a wild imagination

“wouldn't asking be easier?”

“c’mon y/n!! don’t be such a party pooper!! it’s an adventure!! let’s just try it!!”

you sigh

“fine. one 'adventure' wouldn’t hurt right?”

jisung pumps his fist in the air, gleaming

“but, on one condition. you have to make sure to stick with me the whole time. because if you get lost or injured, it's on me”

jisung eagerly nods

training sessions were spent secretly planning the best route around the festival

jisung gets to play the fair games and you get to steal his snacks

it's a win-win situation here

the day of the spring festival comes within a blink of an eye

you wait behind the balcony doors where the royals are announcing the start of the festival

the resounding cheers are audible through the thick walls of the castle

you follow behind as the royal family walks to the town square

the townspeople rush to invite the king and queen to try their goods

jisung and you exchange a look

it was time

the two of you rush back into the castle

you change back into your plainclothes and stand outside jisung's room

you crack open the door

"hurry up jisung!!!!"

"i'm coming!!!!"

he pulls on the door and you nearly fall with it

"geez, 'sung" you mutter

when you look at him, jisung almost looks like a regular teenager

but there's something still a little off

you reach over and ruffle his hair

"that’s much better. now let's GO"

you grab a hold of his hand and drag him out of the castle

for once, you let yourself go, having fun as a kid your age would

you both stuff yourselves with all sorts of snacks till you're sure that if you take another bite you would probably puke

you and jisung walk out to the quieter parts of town

he grabs your wrist and leads you into the forest

you end up on a small clearing that overlooks the villages

jisung sits near the edge

you follow suit, slightly confused

in a small whisper, he says, “look up”

the stars are bright, dotting the pitch black sky

jisung sighs

"it's beautiful right?"

you hum in silent acknowledgement

"i used to come here when everything was too much," he pauses, "it's harder than people think. being a prince i mean. just so many people trying to take advantage of your position or waiting for you to fail"

"yeah, it's scary" you pick at the grass around you, "but you're getting through it pretty okay right? you’re trying your best and that’s what matters. plus i'm here with you now. i'll fight those assholes if i have to"

he lets out a small chuckle

the two of you sit in silence

everything seemed so small from where you sat, the chatter and noise in the village replaced by the chirping of crickets

"i like you"

his words break the silence softly, passing like the fluttering wind

they hold an air of absent-mindedness but in your mind, they're heavy with meanings and implications

your throat suddenly feels dry

when you look over to him, he's still looking at the night sky above

his eyes seem to hold the universe and the moonlight gives his face an angelic glow

it finally hits you that when he wasn't being an absolute dork, he was actually… handsome

the starlight clouds your judgement for a split second and you lean over, pressing a small kiss onto his cheek

"i like you too"

his hand finds yours and in the february spring, it's you two against the world

[seotipsandtricks-me]

How to Get More From Digital PR (Without Mentioning AVE) | Pint Sized Marketing

Digital PR is an evolving discipline. Over the years, we’ve developed from link builders to more rounded PRs and broader marketers. Yet more often than not, the way we see digital PR being judged revolves around links and the traditionally SEO based metrics from which our discipline was born. I was recently invited to speak around this topic for Pint Sized Marketing, a feeder event to the larger Learn Inbound which takes place in Ireland each year. Many thanks to Mark Scully for having me; you’ll find my slides and a write up of my talk below. Digital PR was born from an SEO need It’s no secret that link building is an integral part of any search campaign. In order to outrank our competitors, we must prove the credibility of our knowledge and of our brand – and the most tangible way Google has to do this right now is through links. That’s why, way back in the early days of SEO, link building was big business. We knew that more links meant better rankings and – as we often do – we took advantage of that fact and found sneaky ways to get more links, like link farms, article spinning and forum comments. It made sense, then, that Google caught onto this and told us, in no uncertain terms (and via a super cute animal) that this was not cool. The penguin update penalised those who invested in poor quality link building techniques and as such, gave the industry a metaphorical kick up the backside to do better. An investment in content It was here that link builders / SEOs saw the need to invest more in content. The idea was that good quality content would merit links in their own right – which was something made far easier by the fact that webmasters had not yet grown tired of backlink requests or got wise to the fact that links are essentially currency (leading to many today asking us to pay for them, thus rendering the whole process pointless, but I digress…). So we did just that; we invested in content, anything from really useful guides through to interactive campaigns. The biggest surge in popularity as I experienced it was in infographics. Because infographics were not so easy for journalists themselves to make,  but they did appeal to visual audiences, all it took was an OK designer and an OK idea to create an infographic that would gain links. I even made an infographic of infographics. I thought I was a genius. Meanwhile, in PR… Meanwhile in the world of traditional PR, PR pros were delivering fantastic campaigns which promised to build their clients’ brands and raise awareness of their causes. It was an exciting profession because it was both intangible and integral – something everyone wanted, no one could really measure why but the bottom line was that without it, businesses felt they were missing out. And that made for some really creative campaigns and different ways of thinking. As SEOs, we saw that and, like the magpies we are, we wanted it. The link builders amongst us recognised that PR was a tactic that would gain coverage and therefore links, that was total valid in Google’s eyes because it’s been happening for years without penalty. PR was, in many ways, the golden bullet for link builders. So we started to learn more about it. We invested in campaigns that were newsworthy. We created news hooks. We learned about the press landscape. We even started doing PR stunts. A new choice for clients/stakeholders At this point, we’d become a bit of a middle-man, not quite SEOs and not quite PRs but with the potential to develop our own very clear specialism. That’s what I love most about digital PR – it’s not quite done, it’s like the cake batter ready to be baked, but it’s really tasty nonetheless! For our clients and stakeholders looking to invest in our services, there was a shift. A few years ago, if my PR team was pitching for business, it was either against other digital PRs or, more likely, against SEO agencies. Today, though, we find ourselves pitching much more against traditional PR agencies too, with our clients making decisions between investing with us and investing with them. As a brief tangent, the way I see it is that this is a huge opportunity for traditional PR agencies to really hone their craft and own it – they need to stop trying to become digital and instead stand up for those things they do that digital PRs can’t to continue to develop their niche – like crisis comms, product launches, events and so on. This shift means that we are now being judged against SEOs and against traditional PRs. So it makes logical sense that we need not only to report on SEO-centric goals, but also on PR-centric goals. SEO goals for digital PRs The SEO goals we focus on as digital PRs have got to be link-based. Our job is to build links because links are votes and votes improve rankings. I can’t see a time when I’ll ever not advocate this. Here at Impression, we typically split out goals/KPIs into: Owned goals These are the goals we as digital PRs should own, specifically number of links, quality of links (DR), topical relevance of links (TF) and positioning of links (PR). Shared goals These are the goals we as digital PRs share with SEOs, specifically ranking improvements, traffic improvements and eventual revenue improvements. In order to capitalise on these shared goals, we need to be much more integrated with our SEO teams, and ask not only where we are building links to, but why we are building them and fully understand the SERPs landscape around our target terms and topics. PR goals for digital PRs When we look at how the top PR agencies position themselves, it’s all about storytelling, thought leadership and audience mobilisation. The thing that makes PR difficult to measure is that traditional PRs haven’t yet nailed it themselves, in my opinion. All this talk of advertising value equivalents (AVE), circulation figures and ‘outtakes’ is yet to really nail the intrinsic benefits of PR to the business’ bottom line – even if you have managed to gain coverage which would have cost £X to pay for, what was the value of paying for it anyway? We do, I believe, need to measure ourselves against PR’s goals. But we can’t just replicate what traditional PRs use because, frankly, it’s not good enough. More than anything, we need to focus on making our PR goals SMART – specific, measurable, achievable, relevant and time based. That means taking the intangible and making it tangible. Awareness as a goal is very noble, but if you can’t measure your campaign’s contribution to awareness, what’s the point and how do you quantify the value? So I’d consider utilising traffic or ranking or even branded search metrics to make it measurable. Sentiment is something that’s often referenced by PRs and, in digital PR, I’ve seen agencies use social media listening tools to measure sentiment, though my concern is that not every campaign has a social element and therefore this isn’t necessarily a reliable metric across the board. Instead, we at Impression are currently experimenting with Google’s natural language processing API to see if we can utilise that to quantify sentiment – we’ll share the results when we have them. Broader marketing considerations for digital PRs As well as measuring ourselves against SEO and PR goals, we also need, I believe, to work on our own niche and on the creation of goals which are specific to digital PR. We are not simply a combination of two existing disciplines; we are a discipline in our own right and there are benefits to be derived from an investment in digital PR that you won’t get through SEO link building or traditional PR. I shared some of these in my presentation, and have spoken about the idea of funnel campaigns over on State of Digital previously, so I won’t reiterate here, but suffice to say, I’d like to see digital PRs contributing more to the evolution of our discipline by exploring new ways in which we can use our content to build audiences and drive revenue. How to get more from digital PR To summarise, my tips to get more from digital PR are: Be better SEOs; report on owned goals as well as shared goals – integration Be better PRs; report on the benefits beyond links, but make it measurable Be better marketers; think multi-channel, think integrated, think user first Our discipline is still evolving. We get to choose how. If you’d like to talk more about your digital PR needs, please get in touch, or I’d love to hear your comments on all of the above, either in the comments below or over on Twitter – I’m @lauralhampton. How to Get More From Digital PR (Without Mentioning AVE) | Pint Sized Marketing was last modified: July 25th, 2019 by Laura HamptonThe post How to Get More From Digital PR (Without Mentioning AVE) | Pint Sized Marketing appeared first on Impression.

[ridleytheknight]

Son of a Mafia Part 7

Sorry for the Wait!!!

---

           Coming to had always been a strange feeling, albeit not an unfamiliar feeling. The slight roll in his stomach from various pain killers, the tightness in his chest from bandages, the heavy weight of his skin on his body. His eyelids that were more like obstacles to his sight rather than protection for his eyes. His body ached and burned like a sore muscle. His leg twitched, but it felt restrained. Stuck.

           Trapped.

           He needed to get out. Out. Out. OUT.

           His limbs weren’t responding however, it was cold. Like a liquid clogging up his joints and covering his entire body. Freezing cold and weightless. It was like he was submerged in the ocean. Lance’s mind scrambled. He wasn’t home. He was far from it. He’d been in the Galran… no, Keith and Shiro came. Was, he in the cryopods? Lance’s eyes forced themselves open just in time for the weightless feeling to drop from him suddenly, dragging him down to the ground with a pop and a hiss. Leaving him flailing as his limbs failed to catch him, spending him spiraling to the floor. Until strong arms caught him right before he and his traitor noodle limbs could flop to the ground.

           “Ah! Lance! My dear boy I do believe you’ve lost some weight. Well, Hunk’s been baking enough for entire planet so I wouldn’t worry!” Lance’s lips immediately sighed and quirked up into a fond smile. His hands grasping a little tighter onto Coran’s sleeves as the man propped him up onto his legs, which still shook with the effort.

           “Coran, you always say I’m too light.”

           “You’re skin and bones!” Lance snorted.

           “You’re not complaining now, it’s no secret about half the people here could bench press me in their sleep. If you haven’t looked at Shiro or Hunk you’re blind.” Coran made a sound of indignation, still half holding Lance up as the male toed out of the healing chamber suit. Visibly averting his eyes at the sight of Lance’s new scars. With a glance down, Lance didn’t blame him.

           The scars were stark white against his skin, gnarled and ugly. It just added to the collection of bullet wounds and slash marks. They weren’t even the first scar tissue made by claws. Just, these claws had been a hell of a lot bigger. Lance averted his own eyes as he managed to squirm into his shirt.

           “You are maybe half of Hunk’s weight sopping weight, how is that healthy for your species?” Lance shrugged.

           “Body types differ around humans I guess, where is he by the way?” A voice interrupted Lance’s question.

           “Coran? Where are the-? Lance! Lance!” Lance didn’t have to turn around to hear the clatter of a dropped pan and the sound of rushed footsteps. Lance simply wriggled out of Coran’s grasp and opened his arms, allowing himself to be crushed in his best friend’s arms. “Lance, don’t you dare, ever scare me like that again. I will personally hunt you down and drag you back down. You can deal with your angry relatives.” Lance laughed.

           “Hunk, buddy, pal, amigo, the light of my life. Please, never deal with my angry relatives without me even if I don’t die.” Hunk snorted, but chose not to say anything. Only holding Lance tighter against him. Lance bones groaned in a sore agony, but he ignored it. Closing his eyes and melted into the embrace. His best friend needed him. Or maybe it was the other way around.

           “Hunk? Wait! I get dibs on the middle!” The tan male didn’t even bother to open his eyes, only maneuvering to allow the smallest body to squish into the now group hug. Pidge’s joint practically dug into all of his sore points and tender spots, but Lance’s arms refused to let go.

           God, he’d missed them so much. It’d been torture.

           Literally. Hah.

           Pidge would kill him for that joke.

           After a few moments they let go, all of them sporting massive grins. The Garrison trio was whole again. Pidge was the one who grinned the widest though, grabbing Lance’s hand and smirking.

           “Now, we’re going to the kitchen, you’re gonna get food and then we’re going to… chat.” Hunk looked alarmed.

           “Ah, what exactly does that-?” Lance waved Hunk off.

           “You mean you want whatever Hunk won’t let you eat without my approval and want to attempt to corner me into telling you stories. How close am I?” Pidge’s eyes twinkled with mirth as Hunk gave a sigh, eyes rolling.

           “Almost. It’s not attempting if it happens?” Lance whined.

           “Hunkkk, Pidge is harassing the cripple.” Hunk stared at Lance as if he’d grown a third head. Wide and unbelieving. Even Pidge was staring. “What? I had at least an injured leg. I can hear Emilia calling me gimpy from here.”

           “Lance, you had four fractures in your left leg alone. Your ribs were practically powder and you had more blood on your clothes than in your body.” Lance paused, contemplating, before he gave a frown and glared at Pidge.

           “That makes me a cripple squared! That’s even worse! Hunk, why are you letting her get away with stuff like this? The little gremlin is a menace!” Pidge cackled happily and Hunk’s sigh seemed to almost make his entire body sag. Coran only chuckled softly as he put the cryopod into rest mode and let the three teens drag themselves to the kitchen. Lance basically being carried by the two as he subtly limped in between the two. Until Pidge sprinted off and Hunk threw Lance over his shoulder, running just on her heels. Their laughter shrieked through the hallways. Coran smiled, children would be children. He hummed, turning off the healing pod with a satisfied smile.

           He was glad to see his favorite was still among them.

---

           “Hunk! We’re gaining on her!!! I think.” Hunk snorted, readjusting his grip on Lance, who was stomach down on his shoulders in a fire man’s carry. Lance’s head hanging loosely just to the left of Hunk’s chest. It made the older male worry a little bit, with how Lance’s head jerked around as it dangled, but the wide grin on his best friend’s face melted away the anxiety like a drug.

           “It’s the little legs I swear to god, we have longer steps, but she has like four strides in one of ours. She’s leading four to two! hUNK AMIGO!” Hunk narrowly dodges the random item, he thinks it’s that space pseudo granola bars, that comes hurtling at them a Pidge cackles. Hunk however, also trips over his feet and the two go shrieking and crashing to the ground right in the door of the kitchen. Lance rolling just feet in front of Hunk as they both groan and clutch various body parts. Pidge grins above them, sitting cross legged on the table.

           “How’s the fall boys?” Lance doesn’t even say anything, just throws a convenient shoe at her, Hunk’s boot he thinks. Lance holds his ribs that had hit the ground the hardest and groans on the floor.

           “My bruises have bruises you heathen. Cripple squared.” A flicker of guilt flashes in Pidge’s eyes. “Getting stabbed and other various things I’ve felt still hurt worse, try harder than that gremlin.” Pidge grins at the challenge and Hunk manages to stumble to his feet enough to stabilize his stance and lift Lance’s limp body off the ground. The tan male swoons and groans again. “I have nothing in my stomach, but something wants out. I hate the tea cup rides so much more now.” Pidge just rolled her eyes as Lance limped to the nearest chair, Hunk striding over to the kitchen and Pidge grabbing her lap top and plopping herself onto Lance’s lap before starting to work. Basically using Lance as a human chair. Not that the tan male seemed to mind as he simply laid his head on top of Pidge’s and watched quietly, arms wrapped securely around her waist so she wouldn’t slip.

           “Lance! Lance!” Two voices echoed down the hallway, only stopping short as they halted at the mouth of the kitchen to the peaceful and domestic sight with a bit of both relief, fondness, and confusion. Keith watched it quietly as he and Shiro slunk into the room, still staying at the fringes. Watching.

           Hunk had always reminisced about the days when Pidge, Lance, and him would just hang out and play games, or quietly work in tangent. Keith knew they were a team. He remembered watching Lance lead, self-sacrificing, a confidence in his position. Eyes straight ahead like that of a predator. He’d also seen the silly Lance that liked to flirt with everyone (except him irritatingly enough). The way Lance would tease his friends, dramatically fall into Hunk’s arms pretending to sob at little inconveniences. He also remembered seeing Lance laying on the ground, a pool of crimson beneath him, shards of flesh and bone peeking out of his body, the glazed and unfocused way those ocean filled eyes stared at the ceiling. Keith had never hated the color red more.

           Yet, those Lances were much different than the Lance he was seeing now, the vibrant boy with a loud voice and heart was just quiet. Curled around Pidge with a gentle smile (why couldn’t he smile like that at them?) holding tightly as if some outside force was going to try and rip the girl from his grasp. The soft murmurs of Lance and the snarky replies of Pidge, and occasionly the low humming rumble of Hunk echoing like a siren’s peaceful song in the kitchen.

           It was bizarrely unlike Lance, yet it suited him. The domesticity. The peace.

           Keith was just about to leave Shiro’s own watchful side to squirm his way into the last open seat near Lance -Hunk was always at Lance’s left side, Keith was in no mood to fight and lose- When Allura walked in like a quiet wind. Powerful and calm, and breezing past Keith to take the seat Keith was just about to occupy. Shiro just observed with wide eyes as the princess’ whole demeanor changed.

           Once where there was a distaste and cordial air there was an undertone of respect and comradery as Shiro watched both Lance and the princess stare and acknowledge each other, before Lance’s mouth split into a wide grin and Allura snorted, an amused smile spreading across her face.

           “If I could rearrange the alphabet I’d put u-s, together.” Allura rolled her eyes, yet no enraged and disgust comment spat back to Shiro’s surprise. The princess only smoothed her hair over one shoulder and examined her nails.

           “Why? N and O are already together.”

           “Your eyes are looking gorgeous from here.”

           “I know,” A bemused smirk formed on her lips. “You’re eye bags look rather striking today as well.” Lance gasped, forcing Shiro to almost let lose a laugh himself. The Hispanic boy placed a hand over his chest as if he were hurt. Making Pidge bat as his limbs, annoyed that he moved from her comfortable position. Allura and Lance just grinned and settled back down enough that Hunk was able to slip them plates of food and move into his spot beside Lance. It made Shiro frown in thought.

           How long had it been like this? How had he not seen the changing dynamics in the team, or noticed how Lance had changed as well? Shiro glanced at Keith, who seemed to be watching with the same curious look. As well as the restrained desperation. Keith had been torn up when they found Lance. Reluctant to even leave the healing pod or let Lance out of his sight. Shiro still felt a shudder of fear and pure rage whenever he saw the image of Lance’s near lifeless form. Their Lance. Sweet, innocent, bubbly, beautiful Lance.  Broken and nearly silent on the cold metal ground. Keith wanted physical reassurance, see and feel that Lance was warm, safe, and alive.

           Shiro gave Keith another glance and the dark haired man seemed to nod, which led Shiro to advance forward. He was so close, just inches, he could just reach out and touch Lance, Shiro wouldn’t, not without permission. But he wondered if Lance’s hair was as soft as it looked. A rich brown that swayed just slightly in the whispers of the room’s internal air currents.

           “Shiro, Keith!” And he glanced back, his hand falling to his side as Lance barely even responded, almost half asleep on Pidge’s head as the Garrison trio and the princess held their quiet chatter. Shiro gave a soft smile, resisting the urge to put a small kiss on the crown of Lance’s head and instead reaching back and grabbing Keith’s hand to pull him along before Keith would attempt to escape so he could quietly stalk Lance. Coran greeted them in the hallway with a large smile before placing his hand on the backs and ushering them away from the kitchen.

           “Just a little calibration for the training room is all, I want to avoid any major injuries, well, the one’s that can’t be helped.” His grip on them tightened just as they approached the training room, making them stop to glance at him questioningly, until he gave them a dark smile, “Just so you know however, Lance is my favorite, and I understand your feelings, encourage them even. But if you hurt him… well, we can always get new paladins.”

           Immediately the dark look was gone and they were being shoved into the training room by a bright cheerful grin. The door locking solidly behind them. “Good luck!!!” Keith and Shiro both looked at each other, shocked. A shudder went down Shiro’s spine. Allura had always intimidated him, he’d seen Coran as the level and harmless one. He’d been very wrong. Coran was just patient.

           “He doesn’t actually mean that does he…?”

           “Let’s… not find out.”