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safeklancewriters · 7 years ago

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Fic Rec #3

Date ending: April 21

Sorry all that this is late! Next months should hopefully be on time if life doesn’t get in our way. But this month she’s a long one and we have some stellar fics for yall this month! As usual, the fics will follow below the cut

Summary: This isn’t Keith. This isn’t the Keith he has fought alongside as a fellow teammate. This isn’t the Keith he used to call his rival and now can consider his friend. This isn’t the Keith he has slowly grown fond of with each passing day, with each passing second. This isn’t him. But maybe…

Keith’s been brainwashed and Lance hopes he can snap him out of it.

Summary:

Lance's fingers hovered over the talisman, an inch away from brushing against it. His mind went blank as he stared down at the other boy, who stared back at him with wide, questioning eyes that were a startling shade of violet.

The dazed look on the boy’s face transformed into a frown as his breathing quickened. The more his eyes focused on Lance, the more a wild panic started to set into them.

"Who are you?" he asked sharply. It sounded like he'd meant it to come out with more ferocity, but his voice rasped on the words like he hadn't spoken in weeks.

Lance doesn't know where he comes from––only that he was found in a forest on a distant planet when he was an infant, with no sign of his origin except a blue talisman around his neck. Nowadays he's content to travel the universe with his best friend Hunk, scavenging and selling goods. But that all changes when a girl named Pidge hitches a ride with them, and in the same day the trio finds a crashed ship carrying nothing but a boy with no memory of who he is ... and a red talisman that matches Lance's.

Summary: Both paladins turned to their new, small alien companion. She lifted her head to look at each of them in turn, her eyes round. Keith laid a gentle hand on her shoulder.

“How about you, Zola?” he said. “Are you ready to go?”

She didn’t answer right away. Then she hesitantly asked, “Where are we going?”

As he made eye contact with Lance over her head, Keith could have sworn he felt something electric in the air: a simultaneous resurgence of determination.

“We’re going to take you home.”

Keith and Lance rescue a little alien girl from a hostage situation and bring her home ... and learn a few things about themselves and each other along the way.

Summary: Lance had made a mistake, but he could also make flowers grow.

Summary: It's been two weeks since Keith and Lance started dating, and they've begun preparing to move in together. They decide to tackle one hurdle before they go any further in their relationship, sleeping in the same bed. However, there are still aspects of themselves that they haven't told their partner. What starts as a peaceful night turns into one of discovery as they learn more about the baggage each of them carry.

Cheetah Tongue by mishcakes Rating: Teen Pairings: Keith/Lance Additional characters: everyone else on team volron Tags: Alcohol | i mean it isnt but it makes them act like it | so just to be safe Stats: Words:2,680 Chapters:1/1

Summary: In which Keith and Lance go on a journey to find out why they woke up alone together in a closet.

Summary: Keith and Shiro are real estate agents tasked with fixing up a once abandoned house. It's a mystery why the house was abandoned, until Keith realises that it's haunted by an annoying ghost named Lance.

Summary: “Tell me,” Keith asked, finally tearing his eyes away from the sky to look at Lance. Lance frowned in confusion. “Tell you what?” “What the desert whispers into your ears.” – One night, a few hundred years into the future, in a dark laundromat in the middle of the vast Nevada desert – Keith ends up meeting Lance by a turn of fate. When they meet again in Galaxy Garrison for their junior year, an unlikely friendship blooms between them, as lively as the star-scattered skies, and as strong as the desert wind.

Summary: On the night before Lance and Keith graduate from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, they decide to sneak out one last time to the astronomy tower.

Keith tries to find the courage to tell his best friend he's in love with him.

[[Updated with art!!]]

New Endings ch. 4 by thatreallyshittydude Rating: Teen Pairings: Keith/Lance Additional characters: Allura Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence | Black Paladin Lance | yeah you heard me Stats: Words:11,004 Chapters:5/?

Summary: For the last two years, Keith has been completely alone. Nothing in his life meant anything. He simply kept going without any purpose, serving a faceless organization that hardly got anything done. But one day, he receives a call. A call to join Team Voltron, a call to become the Red Paladin, a call to meet new people. Though begrudgingly, he answers it.

Summary: Keith looks down at the stereotypical red solo cup in his hand, filled with some liquor he found in the fridge. Someone named Rolo had put in his hand almost an hour ago. At first, he hadn’t had any of the mystery liquid out of fear of the unknown, but the second he saw Lance he chugged half of it’s contents. It’s fruity, but sour.

Keith looks up from the cup as he brings it to his lips again. His eyes, almost as if they’re trained to do so, find Lance. Lance is speaking to the short girl — Katie, he thinks is her name, but he isn’t positive — and the larger man he knows to be Hunk. He and Hunk have physics together. They’ve never spoken. Lance laughs at something Hunk says, and Keith finds himself smiling into his cup. He hates it and downs the rest of the cup’s contents, and then grimaces at the taste.

Keith decides he needs a refill.

#skwficrecs #i hope the format sticks this time :/#and that the links dont break #sorry if they do!#monthly rec #ficrec #fic rec #march #april #safeklance #safevoltron #ficrecs

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ifishouldvanish · 7 years ago

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The Boston Hour (8/?)

In which Belle is an Antiques Roadshow super-fan and Gold is her favorite appraiser.

CHAPTER SUMMARY: Belle and Rumford leave the bar and spend some time alone together. RATING: T WORDS: 7,205 A/N: Hahahahaaaa this took me five billion years to wrap up and edit for no reason. Hopefully I haven’t missed any glaring errors :-)))) You can catch up on TMI's here, if you're into that sort of thing. - [x].

[Part One] [Part Two] [Part Three] [Part Four] [Part Five] [Part Six] [Part Seven] [Read on AO3]

Belle was coming down.

Things were becoming less funny, less interesting, and for the last half hour, she’d been quietly listening to the conversation at the table rather than actively participating. Everything seemed to have gotten louder and it was as if all the energy she had been spending on her nerves all day had finally dried up. Me than once, the thought of resting her head on Rumford's shoulder crossed her mind, but sure wasn't feeling as brave now as she was before.

Oh, God.

She’d made a complete fool of herself, hadn't she? Her mind slowly replayed bits and pieces of the evening thus far. There was her comment about him… smelling really sexy. The thing about the mustaches. Her knocking over her glass.

How embarrassing, she thought. There's no way Rumford would want to kiss her now. He probably thought she was a wacko. A wacko whose breath probably also stunk of alcohol.

She frowned at the glass of ice water she'd been nursing. Parched as she was, she was reluctant to drink it all and have to pee again. Rumford had also ordered an appetizer for the table, but it was clear that everyone was waiting for her to eat the lion's share of it.

God, was she really that bad?

She snuck a glance at him then, catching his profile as he listened to Dorothy recount another amusing tale about a customer who had visited her shop a few months ago. He huffed a little laugh and smiled when she reached the punchline of the story, and Belle’s heart skipped a beat. His smiles were beautiful. He actually seemed to be enjoying himself, and what if this could actually be a thing?

“Alright.” Ruby said, grabbing the bottle of beer Dorothy had just finished and sliding it to the center of the table with the others. “You've had more than enough shitty beer, Miss Gale. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're stalling.”

Dorothy snorted. “That's where you're wrong.” She leaned in and lowered her voice. “Because I'm definitely stalling.”

Ruby grinned and closed the small bit of distance left between them. “Dance floor. Now.”

Dorothy quickly turned away, giving herself a chance to wipe the smile off of her face. “You’re serious?”

“You bet your ass I am.” Ruby said, starting to push her out of the booth so she could get out herself. “I'm getting up there and shakin’ my groove thang whether you like it or not.”

“And I support you.” She laughed.

Ruby swat some imaginary detritus off of her bottom and turned to face her. “It would be way more fun if you joined me...” she sang, holding out her hand.

Dorothy looked out at the dance floor and sighed. “Alright.” She said, taking her hand. “You got your dance partner.”

“Yes!” Ruby squealed and bounced on her toes. “What about you? You coming Belles?” She paused and wiggled her brows at Rumford. “...Dr Gold?”

Rumford choked out a weak laugh. For a moment, he just blinked and stared down at the table, rubbing a hand over his mouth. Then he swallowed and cleared his throat. “I ah… I don't think this one's quite up to it.” He said, flashing a polite smile and patting Belle's hand.

Belle shook her head in agreement. She wanted to dance with Rumford, certainly. But the music was all wrong. Covers of nineties party hits? No, no. Their first dance would be slow and romantic and nothing short of magical.

Ruby gave an exaggerated sigh. “Alright, alright– be squares.” She teased.

Dorothy gave Belle and Rumford a look of longing as Ruby lured her out to the dance floor, and they returned apologetic smiles. She stood uncomfortably, off to the side with her arms wrapped around herself, while Ruby did what Belle was pretty sure was a mashed potato. Ruby's smiles were always contagious though, and soon Dorothy was struggling to hold back one of her own. Ruby offered her hands, and Dorothy hesitantly accepted, letting her twirl about her as the band played on.

Belle watched them with a smile, snorting out a laugh when Ruby moved on to doing the Swim, which Dorothy mirrored half-heartedly. She then turned to Rumford, and he flinched as their eyes met.

“Oh. M-miss French–” he stammered, his cheeks flushing pink while he looked away.

“It's okay, I don't mind–” she cut herself off and clapped a hand over her face. I don't you staring at me. True as it may be, it probably wasn't the best thing to say. She slowly peeled her hand off of her face, and there he was again with his warm eyes fixed on her. He had a slight smile on his face, and she couldn't not smile back.

God, he was so handsome.

They were totally having a moment, Belle thought. Staring at each other and smiling? Like something straight out of a movie, for sure. Except if this was a movie, he'd totally be professing his love and pulling her in for a kiss right now. Which he wasn't.

But that was okay, because he was really, really handsome.

Yes. Looking was just fine. With his sharp, pointed nose, warm sable eyes, and cheekbones that had to have been sculpted by the gods themselves. And his hair. It looked so soft and silky, and the way the length of it brushed his shoulders had Belle's fingers practically twitching with the urge to comb through it. Maybe. One day…

He'd show up at the library. She'd be busy shelving or– no no. She'd be in her own office that she'd totally have, and he'd knock on the door frame, asking to come in. Into her office. Oh yes, she could see the engraved plaque on the door now– Belle French, Library Director. Or perhaps even… Belle Gold.

...French-Gold?

Or maybe she'd keep her name and he'd become Rumford French.

Or Gold-French.

No, no. French-Gold sounded much better.

Anyway.

“Oh, Rumford! Come in,” she'd say, surprised to see him, but not like, too surprised. Because he'd totally stop by to see her all the time. Playing coy would just be part of the little game they'd play. “Close the door behind you, please,” she'd tell him, because they'd want privacy for what they were about to do. “What brings you into my office?” She'd ask– but she'd already know.

He'd answer with something cute, like having an overdue book, and she'd come back with an offer to pardon his fees in exchange for a kiss. She'd get up and drape her arms over his shoulders, entwine her fingers through that silken hair– lightly scraping his scalp the way (she imagined) he liked– close her eyes, lean in, and–

“Miss French?”

Belle jolted and blinked, shaking herself out of her trance. “I'm sorry, what?”

Rumford's lips moved, but she couldn't make out what he was saying over the music. She squinted her eyes, as if that might help her hear better. “...What?”

He leaned in a little and spoke up. “Are you feeling any better?”

“Oh!” She nodded. “Yeah!”

“I was–” he scoffed and leaned in further, raising his voice some more, “I was a wee bit concerned earlier.”

“Oh. Yeah.” She closed her eyes and shook her head again. “No, I'm good now. I think.”

“That's good.” He said with a tight-lipped smile.

“...Yeah.” Belle nibbled her lip and continued to gaze into his brown eyes in silence.

Belle Gold. Definitely Belle Gold, Library Director. Married to Rumford Gold, and oh! what a husband he'd (probably) be. Her coworkers would vent to her about their spouses’ subpar hygiene, their casual disinterest in the runnings of the library, their poor taste in matters of aesthetics, their lackluster performance in the bedroom. But never she about her Rumford. No, no. He'd (probably) be like a trophy husband. Always immaculate, witty, and charming. Always supporting her in everything she did. He'd (probably) have flowers delivered to her office ‘just because.’ Stop by with some sort of heirloom necklace from his shop to give her, and when she asked him what the occasion was, he'd (probably) just string it around her neck, kiss her shoulder, and say something like, “the occasion is us, sweetheart.”

She could already feel her loins stirring at the thought.

Definitely, definitely Belle Gold.

They stared dopily at each other for a few more seconds before both cracking and letting out a little chuckle.

Did that count as a moment too? Was it the electricity of all the unbridled sexual tension in the air between them, or were they just being awkward?

Awkward, probably, Belle decided, quickly turning away to watch Ruby and Dorothy on the dance floor again. Now they were doing the Twist. Dorothy was laughing and shaking her head at how ridiculous she still felt, but she seemed to be coming out of her shell nonetheless.

Rumford cleared his throat. “H-have you–”

Belle whipped her head back around, almost pulling a muscle in her neck. “Yes?”

He shyly glanced down at the table. “Well, I just wanted to ask you if– if you'd read any good... books? Recently?” He said, looking back up at her with a slight, lopsided smile.

How could one man be so cute?

Belle took a deep breath and did her best not to smile to broadly. She didn't want to look completely mad. “As a matter of fact… I have...” She answered as calmly as she could.

His grin widened and he shifted a little to face her better. “Well, Miss French– I would ah, love to hear about them.”

And she'd love to talk about them.

There was the one about the woman who gets wrongfully accused of murder, the one about the thief who gets stolen from, the narrative nonfiction about how Michelangelo painted the Sistine Chapel, the one covering the presence of trans people in various parts of the world, and then her favorite romance novel that she'd read for the twenty-third time about a prince in disguise.

He nodded along, making comments and asking questions at the appropriate times. Several times he had to repeat himself so she could hear him over the band playing. Belle went on and on until her throat was sore from raising her voice, and it finally occurred to her that at this point, she'd be enjoying their date a lot more if they were someplace quiet. Someplace more romantic. For kissing. Or just talking.

What would Ruby do? Belle wondered. Of course, drinking and channeling her inner Ruby proved to be ill-advised, but she was basically sober now. Surely it would be worth another try? It was time for an exit maneuver, and if anyone knew how to wrap things up in favor of going someplace more private, it was Ruby. Right?

She cleared her throat and whipped her hair out of her face in a manner she hoped looked flirtatious. Sexy. Enticing. “You um…” She began to hesitate then, already feeling her heart dropping into her stomach. No, no. Confidence. Commit. “You wanna get outta here?”

That was a thing people said, right?

She was pretty sure someone said it in a movie once, at least.

Rumford furrowed his brows and leaned in closely. “What was that?”

Oh God. Now she was going to have to say it again?

She hesitated and tried to think of a less embarrassing way to phrase it, but drew a blank.

“Do you wanna get out of here?” She repeated as loudly as she could without yelling.

He pulled back to look at her, brows raised, and gave a little nod. His lips moved, but she couldn't hear him.

She leaned in and tried not to indulge herself in the heady scent of his cologne too much. Failed. Musky, but citrusy. Sandalwood? Would it be creepy to ask him what it was? Maybe Sephora carried it and she could request a sample.

She clenched her eyes shut. Focus, Belle. “Um. ...What?”

He chuckled and leaned into her ear. “I'd like that.”

She practically squirmed at the sensation of his breath landing on her neck. Good grief . What else might he like? If she asked him to repeat himself again, would he get even closer?

She shook the thought away and let out an awkward chuckle. “...Me too.”

His eyes drifted over to the dance floor, then back to the table. “Ah… When do you think you might like to–”

“We can go now.” She blurted. She wanted to leave, he wanted to leave. They should leave.

Rumford blinked. “...Oh.” He shifted in his seat and pulled out his wallet, grabbing a wad of bills and tucking them under one of the empty glasses. “Well then ah… whenever you're ready.”

Leaving the bar with Dr Rumford Gold?

She was born ready.

Belle looked for Ruby as they made their way toward the exit, and her friend's face lit up when their eyes met. She mouthed what Belle assumed was a, “you go girl!” and winked, making a shooing gesture at the two of them.

Belle rolled her eyes and laughed as she and Rumford slipped out the door. A wave of relief washed over her as they stepped out onto the much quieter street, and judging by the way Rumford's shoulders relaxed, he must have felt the same way.

Street lights and storefronts illuminated the sidewalks, which had their share of slow but steady foot traffic consisting of couples and other small groups. A few cars whirred by, drowning out the soft music coming from a street performer further down the block. It was warm, but with a cool and gentle breeze– which was perfect, Belle thought. Maybe, if she was lucky enough, she’d get cold and Rumford would offer her his jacket. Though she supposed it was comfortable enough that she could pretend to be cold, and in the event that he did offer her his jacket, she could still wear it without completely sweating to death for the remainder of the evening.

Ideal conditions, really.

He was studying the menu in the window of a neighboring restaurant, his hands deep in his pockets. She stepped beside him, bumping into him when another person brushed past her to get inside. The movement grabbed Rumford’s attention, and he braced her arm to keep her steady.

“Sorry,” she said. “It was just um, getting really loud in there?”

He returned an apologetic smile and step aside so they weren’t so close to the door. “Agreed.”

Belle nibbled her lip, trying not to let her eyes wander down his neck and to the Windsor knot nested at the base of his throat. The last thing she needed to think about right now was loosening his tie for him. And undoing a button or two on his shirt. Would his chest be hairy? Or would he be smooth?

If she were a betting woman, her money would be on smooth.

“So.” She began, trying to steer her thoughts away from what he might look like naked.

“So…” He was smoothing out his tie, but seemed to catch himself and stopped. “Where would you like to…”

“You know… I um, I think there's supposed to be a park around the block from here?” She hedged, shifting on her feet. “Maybe we could um…”

“Aye, definitely. I know it.” He said. “But ah, you should probably let your friend know where we're headed?”

“...Yes.” Belle smiled and pointed a finger at him, then plunged her hand into her purse to grab her phone. “Yeah, totally. Good idea.”

“I've been known to have those from time to time.” He joked.

She snorted and tapped a quick message to Ruby. “And… Done!” She said, dropping her phone back into her bag and clutching the strap tightly.

Rumford's eyes bored into hers for a stretch that was beginning to border on uncomfortable before suddenly darting to the death grip she had on her purse instead. He took a deep breath and let out a little scoff, then offered her his arm. “M-miss French?”

Belle nibbled her lip and hesitated a moment. This was it. This was her time. This was her moment. A romantic evening stroll with Rumford Gold.

She slowly locked her trembling arm with his, and then her eyes. “Okay.”

“...Okay.” He said breathlessly, staring down at their joined arms with a lopsided smile.

God, how she just wanted to reach up on her toes and kiss him senseless already. “Well, then I guess uh, let's go.”

“Yes. Yes, of course,” he said with a blush, and the two of them finally fell in step together. They made it halfway down the block before Belle suddenly become aware of the silence between them. Should she say something? Make conversation?

She should probably definitely say something.

“I'm… I'm really sorry.” She mumbled, looking at her feet. “For um, back there. If I made you uncomfortable.”

Yes. Clear the air with an apology. For practically eating him alive earlier. A good, natural place to start.

“Well,” he glanced away and chuckled. “I admit I ah, hadn't been quite prepared for that, but… but it's fine, please don't feel–”

“Just, you know. It would have made me uncomfortable, is all.”

He shrugged and cleared his throat. “Aye, well… apology accepted, I suppose.”

They fell silent again, and with her apology out of the way, Belle was eager to change to subject to something– literally, anything– other than what a touchy drunk she was. “So… How did you um, how did you get into antiques? Is it a family thing? Or…”

“Oh–” he shook his head. “No, no. Well– I mean... i-in a way?”

Belle looked at him with a knowing smile. “Sounds like a long story.”

“Aye.” He chuckled. “I suppose it is.”

“I'd love to hear it, if you wouldn't mind telling it.”

Rumford looked at her hesitantly, his lips pressed tightly together. “The thing is, I ah, never knew my mother.” He began, fixing his eyes on the ground. “And my father was… well, not a good man. Spent all his time at the pub, gambling his wages away, and if not that, he was spending the night in jail. When I was eight years old, he dropped me off at our neighbor's and never came back for me. Haven't seen him since.”

“O–.” Belle coughed and pulled away from him, looking at the ground and letting her hair fall in her face. “I am so sorry, I didn't realize– you don't have to–”

“No, no, no, no!” Rumford rushed to assure her, cupping his hand over hers. “I-it's no bother.”

Belle looked back up at him tentatively, not quite meeting his eyes.

“You see... they were the ones who really raised me,” he said. He brushed her hair out of her face and she parted her lips.

She wet them then, and they stuck together slightly. She should have drank more water.

“Edith and Ainsley.” He continued. “Lovely couple. They were seamstresses by trade, but they did it all, really. Sewing, drawing and painting, pottery, you name it. I suppose you could say they were ah... hoarders.” He admitted with a chuckle.

Belle finally relaxed when she saw the fond smile blooming across his face. He loved his artsy crafty adoptive lesbian hoarder moms. Choosing for the moment to ignore his use of the past tense, she just smiled back at him, waiting for him to continue.

“I always liked staying at their house while my da was out because it was filled with all kinds of art and these unique things they'd collected over the years. I was always so fascinated by them all– curious, ye know? But I always had to remind myself to sit on my hands, because my father…” he trailed off and cleared his throat. “Anyway, one afternoon they saw me eyeing this old spinning wheel of theirs. Huge, magnificent thing, it was. And they told me– what it was, what it did, how old, how it'd come into their possession. Showed me how to use it. I suppose you could say that’s what started it.”

“Your first appearance on the show,” Belle recalled. “You looked at a spinning wheel.”

He scoffed and raised a brow at her. “You remember that? That was right around a decade ago!”

“Mhmm!” Belle laughed. “I watched that episode with my mom when it first aired!”

“Gods,” he hiked his brows and looked off into the distance. “That's embarrassing.”

“No…” she said. “You were wonderful. And the way you spoke about it, I could see how passionate you were.” She hesitated and have him a sidelong look. “I've uh, had a crush on you ever since.”

Rumford swallowed. “Oh.”

“But go on...” She said, nudging his shoulder and letting her hand wander from his elbow to his wrist. “It's a good story.”

He hesitated before smiling and accepting her offered hand, and she gave him a little squeeze. Whether she meant it as an encouraging gesture or if it only served to confirm that he was actually there, she couldn’t say.

“Well... Every day after that, I'd pick something out from one of their shelves and I'd ask them, ‘What's that one? Auntie Edith, can ye tell me about that one there?’ And so they'd take it down and let me touch– ‘be careful now,’ ye know?” He chuckled. “...And then they'd tell me everything they knew. It was amazing, really, that they could remember the histories of these things in such vivid detail.”

“I mean, have you watched yourself on the show?” Belle teased.

“Not at all, recently.” He admitted with a shrug.

“Well,” she laced her fingers with his and smiled. “You never fail to amaze me.”

He stopped walking and turned to face her with a curious look, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards into a smile that made Belle's insides squirm in the most pleasant way possible.

Was this it? She wondered. Was she going to finally kiss Rumford Gold? Right here? Right now? She poked her tongue out and swept it along her bottom lip, but his eyes didn't follow. His brown lingered on her blue, but then suddenly caught onto something else.

“Change?”

Belle flinched and spun around, startled by the unfamiliar voice.

It belonged to an older man who wore an unkempt beard and a warm jacket despite the weather. “Spare any change, sir? Miss?”

“O-oh.” She blinked and shook her head, reaching into her purse. Surely she had something.

“I-I’ve no change,” Rumford stammered, “but ah... u-up here,” he said, nodding at a food truck up ahead. “Let me get you something.”

“Oh, that would be very generous, sir,” the man said.

“I-It's no bother.” Rumford said, taking Belle's hand.

They started toward the truck, and the man fell in step with them, mumbling further expressions of gratitude. They quietly stood in line, the three of them all eyeing the menu on the side of the truck.

“You been keeping dry?” Rumford asked. “I only flew in yesterday, but I heard there was a good bit of rain during the week.”

“Yeah. Me and a couple guys have a good spot a few blocks over.”

“That's good.”

“You know, the shelters, they fill up quick.”

“Aye. Aye, I bet.”

“I got some work with a buddy of mine, but it's across town. By the time I get off there, and the time it takes to get to St Matthew’s...” He trailed off.

“How far is it?” Belle asked.

“It’s an hour walk, so you know…”

“There aren't any places closer that that? That’s terrible.”

Rumford stepped forward and cleared his throat. “What would you like?” He asked quietly.

“Uh… a Coke, please.”

“One Coke.” He parroted to the vendor and turned to Belle. “And you? Anything?”

“Hm...” She nibbled her lip and scanned the menu on the side of the truck for a moment. “Oh! A churro would be lovely, thank you.”

“Ah, those are good.” The old man chuckled as the vendor handed Belle her treat.

“Here–” she tore a piece off of the top of her churro and offered it to him.

He threw a hand up. “Oh, no. You enjoy.”

Belle narrowed her eyes at him for a moment. “Well, alright. I won't twist your arm.” She smiled, popping it into her mouth.

“Your Coke.” Rumford chimed in, handing him the chilled red can.

“Thank you so much. God bless you both.” The man said with a little bow before starting down the sidewalk.

“Wait!” Belle busted after him, juggling her churro as she dug through her purse. “It's not much, but…” she shrugged and dropped a assortment of coins into his hand.

“Thank you. Thank you so much.”

“Stay safe.” Belle said, bidding the man goodnight and returning to where Rumford was waiting by the truck.

“All set?” He asked.

“Mhmm.” She nodded, locking her arm with his again and starting down the sidewalk. “Thank you for the snack.”

“Of course.”

“You wanna piece?”

“Oh, no thank you.” He said softly.

“Hmm… okay.” She shrugged, sucking the cinnamon sugar off of her fingers before going in for another bite.

The park turned out to be just around the corner, and they were able to find a vacant bench not far from a lamp post without too much searching. Belle settled on one end, and Rumford sat opposite her, leaving more space between them than she cared for. She quickly scoot closer.

“This is nice.” She said, smiling at him. “I'm um, I'm having a nice time. With you.”

“That's good.” He nodded, the corner of his mouth briefly tugging towards into another lopsided grin. He bounced his leg a few times, but quickly stopped. “I'm glad.”

Belle took another bite out of her churro, buying herself a moment as she licked the sugar from her lips. He seemed to be getting tense again, and she wondered what else they could talk about.

“Your uh, your aunties sound like lovely people,” she went with. “I might go so far as to say that they did a wonderful job of raising such a gentleman.” She murmured.

“Oh.” Rumford blushed, looking down at his lap and toying with his cufflinks.

“Did they have any other kids they took in? You know, that are like siblings to you?”

“Oh,” he scoffed, “no, no. It was just me, growing up.”

“So no other family at all?” Belle pouted her lips and stared off across the park. “That must be lonely.”

“Well, I-I I do have a son.” He said, looking back up at her.

“Oh.” She said, nibbling her lip and staring down at her feet. Of course he had a son. And he said he hadn't been out with a woman in a long time. What if he’s still in love with his ex and only agreed to come out on this date to be polite and–

“His mother and I… we ah, separated when he was a boy.”

“I'm sorry.”

“No. No, no. I-it's fine. It's… water under the bridge, really.”

Belle let out a sigh of relief she hoped wasn’t as audible to him as it was to her. “How um… How old is he?”

“Seventeen.” He said, finally easing comfortably against the bench with a slight smile. “His name’s Neal.”

“And he lives with you?”

He nodded. “For most of the year. He takes his summers in Liverpool to be with his mum, but ah… he’ll be going off to college in the fall.”

“Oh really?” She asked. “Where?”

“Rhode Island School of Design.”

“Wow.” She blinked. “You know they've been ranked the third best school for art and design by– by um…” she smacked her lips and tapped a finger in the air as she struggled to recall the publication.

“Aye,” he chuckled. “I'm sure I read that in one of the brochures at some point.”

Belle dropped her hand and slouched her shoulders, taking the opportunity to nestle a little closer to him. “He must be very talented.”

“Aye ah… he is. Always was. Artistic, I mean. Creative. Certainly didn't get it from me, though.” He chuckled.

“You must be really proud of him.”

He grinned widely at that, and Belle felt weightless for an instant. “I am.”

“What kind of art does he do? What’s he majoring in?”

“It’s been photography most recently. But ah, he's majoring in graphic design. Likes… bring it all together, you now?”

“Mhm.” She nodded and bit off another piece of her churro, the parchment paper around it crinkling a bit. “You miss him already, don't you?”

He raised a brow at her, and she realized she still had a mouthful of churro.

“Oh–” she covered her mouth. “Sorry.”

“You're fine. Just–” He chuckled and reached a hand over, brushing a piece of sugar from her cheek with his thumb.

She finished chewing and swallowed hard, staring back at him. Took a deep breath. He just touched you, Belle. Rumford Gold touched you. On the face. Again.

He dusted the crumb off on his pant leg and sighed. “It's just… I always imagined when he was a boy, that he'd grow up to be like his Papa, you know? That the shop could become… a family business. Father and son. But…” he trailed off and gave a half shrug.

“Well,” Belle shrugged. “Whatever makes him happy, right?”

“Aye.” He smiled. “Precisely.”

“I'm sure he’s gonna miss you too.”

“I'm not quite so sure.” Rumford scoffed. “Boy can hardly wait to get out of the house.”

“Oh, come on!” Belle laughed, giving his shoulder a light shove. “He's just excited! I would have loved to have gone away for college!”

He narrowed his eyes and tilted his head at her. “Why didn't you?”

Belle frowned. “My dad.” She sighed. “He um, had a heart attack my senior year of high school. I wanted to stay close to him after that, you know?”

He nodded. “Certainly.”

“He just– it's been hard on him. Since mom–” she cut herself off. Don't start talking about your dead mom, Belle.

“I... understand.” He slid a hand over hers, and the damned parchment crinkled again.

“So… you guys are going to Richmond next?”

He pulled his hand away and nodded. “Aye.”

Belle shrugged. “I've never been.”

“Well,” he chuckled, “if it's any consolation, I've never really experienced much of it myself. Most of the places we visit just sort of blur together, you know?”

“How does that work, anyway?” She asked. “Do you stay in each city and go straight to the next, or do you go back home in between?”

He scowled and hiked his brows. “Stay at a hotel for weeks–months at a time?” He scoffed. “No thank you, Miss French. I'll be flying back home tomorrow night.”

“Oh.” Belle’s heart sank in her chest at the reminder of the geographical distance between them. She knew he lived in Syracuse, but she just didn't want their time together to end. It was a blissful dream she never wanted to wake from. She took another bite, giving herself a moment to think of what else to say as she chewed.

Oh. Oh, of course.

She swallowed and smacked her lips. “Do you um… have any plans tomorrow morning? Before you leave?”

He bobbed his head from side to side for a moment. “There's a flea market on the other side of town that I like.” He said. “I always try to visit when I'm in the area.”

“Oh, that's cool.” She mumbled around another mouthful of her food.

He huffed out a little laugh. “I'm sort of... friends with one of the vendors there.”

“Really?” She asked, quickly throwing her hand over her mouth again.

“Oh, yes.” He laughed. “Strange fellow. Always has such beautiful pieces, though– I get a lot of my inventory from him. He ah… drives a hard bargain, but I haven't let him get the better of me yet.” He winked.

Belle swallowed and nibbled on her lip. “Maybe– maybe I could join you? If you um, if you wouldn't mind…”

He gave her a sidelong look. “So you can study my negotiation tactics?” He teased.

“Well, now that you mention it…” she giggled, “I wouldn't mind watching you haggle a price on an antique vase or something. ...I think it could be highly educational.” She added, lifting her chin.

He tilted his head and furrowed his brows. “I… I'd like that.”

Belle smiled so widely her cheeks began to feel sore. She turned away for a moment to collect herself. “Okay then,” she said, looking back at him with another, hopefully much less deranged-looking, smile. “It's a date then?”

“Aye.” He nodded. “I… suppose it is.”

She bit down on her lips to keep her crazed smile from returning. She'd just made plans! To see him! Rumford! Again! Tomorrow!

They were staring at each other again, and Belle took a deep breath. Was this it? Was this the part where they kissed?

No, no. She needed a line. To bat her lashes and say something like, I can't wait. Lick her lips and murmur a seductive, should be fun.

The bunched up parchment paper crinkled in her grip again and she froze. She had to finish this stupid thing and throw it out already. It would ruin the kiss if she was preoccupied with holding it, nevermind the obnoxious sounds it could make. No, no. The churro had to go.

She looked down at her lap and eyed what was left of it. Two or three bites. One, if she really committed herself. Or would that be… unbecoming of her? She sighed and tore it into two pieces, popping one of them into her mouth and closing her eyes.

God damn, it was so good.

She opened her eyes to find Rumford still staring at her and stopped chewing.

“Good?” He asked with a little smirk.

She nodded. “So good,” she said, her voice muffled again.

Dammit, Belle. Stop talking with food in your mouth.

She continued chewing slowly, as if she could hide the fact that she was chewing at all, and swallowed. “It's good.”

He just smiled back without a word.

Well there goes your moment, Belle. You've ruined it. No kiss.

“Um…” she wet her lips and glanced down the last piece with reluctance. “Sure you don't wanna bite? Because it's um… it's good.”

He hesitated and let out a scoff. “I suppose I can't argue with such a ringing endorsement as that, now can I?”

How was he so charming? She was a walking disaster and yet here he was, smiling and… being cute. Pretending not to notice how weird she was. What a saint.

“No,” Belle laughed. “You can't.”

She shifted on the bench and by the time she realized what the hell she was doing, Rumford was already opening his mouth so she could feed him.

Oh yes. She was painfully aware of the situation as she popped the last piece into his mouth. The way his lips closed around it, brushing against the tip of her finger as she pulled away.

He closed his eyes and let out a soft hum as he chewed, and Belle really needed to stop looking at his mouth. Or the way his throat bobbed as he swallowed.

Lord have mercy.

He looked at her and wet his lips. “You're right. That is good.”

Belle blinked owlishly at him. This wasn't real. Couldn't be. She was dreaming. It probably wasn't even Saturday. This entire day had been a hallucination. It was the only logical explanation.

“Miss French?”

She blinked and raised her brows expectantly.

“It's getting late.” He said. “When do you think you'd like to head back?”

“Oh. Uh… now? Now is good.” He could walk her back to her hotel. That would be her next and last chance for a kiss, wouldn't it? Saying goodnight? “I mean– whatever you wanna do.” She blurted. “I'm up for whatever, you know?”

Especially kissing you. That was on the top of the list of things she was up for.

“Well, I... I wouldn't want to keep you up late.” He said, starting to get up.

Belle barked out an awkward laugh. Sweet, naive, beautiful man. She would be more than happy to have him keep her up all night long. “...Yeah.” She coughed. “You're right.”

“Here–” he said, gesturing at the finally empty parchment paper in her lap. “Let me get that for you.”

He tossed it in a nearby bin and helped her up. They did a lap around the park, arm in arm, while he told her about some of the things he’s found at the flea market over the years, and his favorite sorts of items to carry in his shop. While they headed back to her hotel, the topic of conversation drifted back to flea markets, and which cities had best (or worst) shops. Belle countered with her list of grievances against the way the library in Storybrooke was being run, and all the things she would make to change if she was in charge. She started walking more slowly as they approached the hotel, but soon it was time to stop completely.

“Well uh, this is where I’m staying.” Belle mumbled.

He stopped walking and frowned. “Oh.”

“Thanks for um, coming out tonight.” She said, shifting on her feet.

“Aye.” He nodded. “Thank you. For ah, inviting me.”

“I had a really good time.”

He was trying not to smile, but the tightly rounded apples of his cheeks gave him away. “Me too.”

She stared at his mouth and wet her lips. This had to be the part where they kissed, right? Any second now, he was gonna put his mouth on her? Would it be gentle and soft? Or might he surprise her with something more ravaging? Would she even be able to handle that? This was Dr Rumford Gold, after all. The cultured and sexy silver fox who occupied many a late night fantasy. Good God– would she faint?

“I'll ah… Pick you up?” He asked, pulling her out of her thoughts. “Tomorrow morning? Around ten? For the um, flea market?”

“...Oh!” She chuckled. “Yeah! That sounds perfect. I can't wait to do you.”

His eyes went wide as saucers. “Pardon?”

Oh. Oh. “Did I say–?” She laughed. “No, no. I mean I can't wait to do that . With you. As in going to the flea market. Not…” she trailed off and cleared her throat. “...Yeah.”

His lips rounded into an oh and he nodded slowly. “I… believe I understand.”

“Yeah. So um… goodnight, I guess?”

“Aye,” he said. “Goodnight, Miss French.”

“Belle.” She corrected him.

He smiled, and under the light from the street lamp above them, she could see that he was blushing. “...Belle.”

“Goodnight, Mr Gold.”

“Oh, please.” He chuckled softly and gently tugged on her hand, beginning to rub his thumb back and forth over her knuckles. “...Call me Rumford.”

Belle chewed her lip in lieu of smiling. “...Rumford.” She watched him wet his lips and she could feel her insides practically vibrating with anticipation. Kiss, kiss, kiss! Let me suck your stupid, perfect face!

He held her hand up and brushed his thumb across her knuckles again. Then she watched, utterly transfixed, as he dipped down and pressed a kiss to her hand. He closed his eyes and let his lips linger there a moment before slowly– she might dare say reluctantly– pulling away. He glanced up at her, the corner of his mouth curled into a lopsided little smile.

“It's been a pleasure,” he said softly. “Belle.”

She gaped at him as he stood upright again, her mouth hanging open.

He just bowed and kissed her on the hand? How dare he? How dare he just transport her into a God damned Jane Austen novel like this?

“Uh…”

He furrowed his brows and tilted his head, taking a half step closer. “Belle?”

She shook her head. “Yes?”

“You're alright?”

“Oh. Yeah.” She laughed. “Oh, I'm fantastic. You're fantastic.”

“Oh. Well, I'll see you tomorrow, then.” He said.

“Yes.”

“I… I look forward to it.” He said, rubbing his free hand over the back of his neck. “Very much.”

She nibbled her lip. “Me too.”

“Goodnight, Belle.”

“Goodnight, Mr– Rumford.”

It was definitely time to let go of his hand. Belle knew that much. But she seemed to have this irrational fear that once she did, he would turn to dust and disappear from her life forever. That she'd wake up from the dream.

“I'm um, I'm gonna go in now.” She said.

He nodded. “Right.”

“So um…” She slowly released her grip on his hand and clutched the strap of her purse– because she needed to hold onto something. “Yeah.”

“Yeah.”

“I'm gonna–” she pointed a thumb over her shoulder at the the hotel.

“Of course.”

She took a step backwards toward the doors, still not ready to take her eyes off of him. “Bye.” She said with a little wave.

He nodded and waved back.

She took another step back, missing the crack in the sidewalk and stumbling. Rumford leapt forward to catch her, but she managed to find her balance herself.

“Haha… whoa...” She chuckled, hoping to God that she wasn't turning beet red.

“Alright?” He asked.

“Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine.” She said. “Happens all the time.”

It did not happen all the time.

“Oh.” He said, furrowing his brows. “Well ah, perhaps tomorrow... you might want to um, wear something… flatter?”

“Yes.” She nodded. “Def–definitely. Good idea.”

“Just it's um… A lot of walking. And partially outdoors, with ah... dirt.”

“Right?” She said in agreement, despite the fact that she'd never been to the place before and has no idea what it was like.

“I just see those are suede, is all.” He said, gesturing at her feet and blushing. “I'd ah, hate for them to get ruined.”

He noticed her shoes!

“Yeah, me too.” She snorted. “They cost me like, a whole rent payment, so you know.”

He looked back down at her feet and let out a little chuckle, hiking his brows. “Well. I won't keep you any longer.” He said. “You ought to get some sleep.”

“Yeah. You too.”

“Goodnight, Belle.”

She bit down on her lip in hesitation, then inched closer so she could give him a peck on the cheek. “Goodnight, Rumford.” She said as she pulled away, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear with a trembling hand.

He was trying not to smile again. “G-goodnight.”

“Goodnight.” She took another, much more careful, step backwards. “I'm um… I'm gonna go then. For real now.”

“Aye.” He nodded. “Goodnight.”

She backed up against the front door and waved again. “Goodnight.”

Good God, she realized. Ruby was right.

She shook her head and quickly slipped through the door, managing to take three steps into the lobby before spinning around and waving at him again.

He waved back and then– then– she allowed herself to disappear down the hall to the elevators.

#rumbelle #rumbelle fic #fic: the boston hour #ngl I have this creeping fear that there's a massive error in here somewhere #but I've read this so many damned times over the past few weeks #I don't want to look at it a second longer #lmao

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lesbiansirius · 7 years ago

Text

mutual(s) pining

a work brought to you by bunfox productions, aka yours truly and @lesbianremus! you can also read it on ao3, right here. big thanks to the lovely @nachodiablo who looked it over for us!

this is a prompt fill for the weekly prompt at @introvert-club. this week it was “internet crush”. anyone is welcome to participate, and use the tag #wolfstar introvert prompt for us to see! enjoy :)

Some days, scrolling Tumblr is pretty boring. A flower, a transparent backpack, a dejected joke about depression, a dead Soundcloud link, nothing to inspire. Sirius is hunched over their laptop, watching the screen with their chin resting on their hand. A long discourse post they can’t be arsed to read, gifs from a show they don’t watch, and then.

Inspiration strikes.

It strikes in the form of two selfies. The person in them is standing in a sunny garden, curls spilling out from under a snapback, and smiling with their eyes closed. You can see lilacs blooming in the background. The person has freckles and a t-shirt with a whale on it, featuring the text “I’m a little overWHALEmed”. Same, Sirius thinks.

They click follow without even looking at the blog.

Remus squints at the tiny, seemingly innocuous, line of text on her dashboard. It’s sandwiched between a masterpost of transfeminine resources Lily’s reblogged (tagged #dead useful tbh #remus i told u joining tumblr wld be worth it) and a post from one of Lily’s friends about how Glinda the Good Witch is trans agenda (shows up at the beginning of Act 2 with a new name).

padfoot has started following you

Who the fuck is padfoot?

Remus quickly opens a new chat, typing in Lily’s url. She had made Lily show her how to do this chat business first, after changing the aesthetically horrifying default blog layout.

do u kno a padfoot

Lily, eternally both awake and online, replies immediately.

wtf is a padfoot

oooh hang on actually i think i do

???

ya they’re one of my mutuals. mostly posts vids of them singing and reblogs pics of animals, iirc

why are they following me??? i don't want to be followed!!

remus chill ffs. it’s not like stalking. they just see ur posts

i dont even have any posts! well except those pics marlene took that u INSISTED i put up here

ur welcome. i bet they think ur hot ;) ;)

hilarious.

remus when will u accept ur cute n give the people what they want!! (more selfies)

im unfollowing u

my dash would be more appealing w just the staff blog posts

im ignoring ur paltry attempts at threats. also, i just went and looked and ya i had the right person. u should check out their vids

why

its polite 2 at least LOOK at someone's blog if they follow u!! honestly remus my 86 yr old grandma is more social media savvy than u

Remus chooses not to reply to that. She does click on padfoot’s blog, though. Not because Lily suggested it, just because she’s curious. What about some boring pictures of her in a garden screamed ‘good content’ to this stranger? Maybe they’re really fond of lilacs, or something.

“What the fuck?” Remus says, glaring at the still shots of the youtube videos embedded on the page in front of her. Whoever padfoot is, they’re apparently unfairly attractive. Remus clicks play on the first video, half-hoping they’re an appalling singer to make up for the ridiculously good looks.

Two hours later, Remus’ phone buzzes, jolting her out of her Tumblr coma and back into reality.

did u die? Lily wants to know. Remus calls her.

“Why would you assume I’m dead?”

“I’ve been knocking on your door for the past ten minutes, asshole.”

“Oh,” Remus looks guiltily down at the headphones she’d put on three videos in.

“Well come open the door,” Lily gripes. “We’re late.”

“Can we be late for a thing that we scheduled between the two of us?” Remus points out, as Lily tugs her down the stairs. “You barely even gave me time to put on proper clothes,” she complains.

“We said pub at five. It’s not my fault you weren’t ready.”

“Actually,” Remus says with a self-righteous sniff, “it was. You’re the one who told me to check out padfoot’s blog.”

Lily pauses, looking over at Remus.

“Yeah, three hours ago.”

“Two and a half,” Remus mutters.

“Wow,” Lily smirks. “I knew they’d be your type.”

“Shut up,” Remus grumbles. “We’re going to be late for Weekly Lion’s Den Bitch & Moan.”

“I thought it was impossible to be late for something we scheduled between the two of us,” Lily says mockingly.

Remus walks off without her, ignoring the sound of Lily’s cackles following her down the street.

Sirius straightens up from the computer and looks for James. He’s in downward dog position in the kitchen area, because of course.

“Hey,” they say, “quick question.”

“I’ve told you a million times not to interrupt me while my arse is reaching for the sky.” James sounds a little strained, but he still manages to get in a sigh.

Sirius groans. “This is important!”

“More important than my spiritual health?” But James walks slowly into a forward fold, and Sirius waits for him to get upright, one vertebrae at a time. They tap their fingers against their laptop.

James reaches his hands up towards the sun – or in this case, the orange plastic lamp in their kitchen – then finally gives Sirius attention.

“Okay, what’s the quick question?”

“How long should you be mutuals with someone before casually striking up a friendship?” It’s probably not causal to even ask that literally two minutes after the person follows you back, but whatever.

James rolls up his mat and chuckles. “You’re talking to me, literally the least casual person this side of the equator.”

Sirius frowns. They’re used to James always giving advice. Admittedly, sometimes it’s bad advice, but nonetheless.

“You mean I have to use my own judgment? Eh.”

“When I’m your manager you’ll never have to do that,” James jokes.

Sirius doesn’t reply; they’re actually checking out the pretty stranger’s blog now. The title is ‘why are they forcing me to have a title’ and the bio just says ‘she/her’. The pictures are the only thing on the blog. Well, that didn’t exactly help. Tumblr friendships are usually based on mutual interest. Maybe they could strike up a conversation about lilacs?

“Okay, well, thanks for nothing,” they tell James. “I have nothing to go on, my crops are dying, and I haven’t even posted a video in a week.”

“But your crop tops are fine.” James winks and slumps down next to Sirius, looking over their shoulder at the mysterious whale person. “Wow, pretty.”

“I know! The only good thing on Tumblr today. I need more!”

“You need chill,” James says firmly. “Wanna go to the pub?”

Sirius closes the laptop decisively. “Always.”

“Let me change, I’ll be ready in a few.” James gets up, giving Sirius an unnecessarily detailed view of his ass in yoga pants. “And you should put on one of those crop tops.”

“But remember the last time you went out in yoga pants.” Sirius grins. “Worked out well, didn’t it?”

James shakes his head. “Not tonight, honey, I’m tired.”

“It’s hard work being popular.” Sirius shrugs.

They do take James’ advice to change into a crop top, because even if James isn’t up to being hit on, Sirius could use the validation. And they look fucking awesome in a crop top and fishnets.

It’s just a few days after payday, and the time of day when people are off work, so they only barely manage to get the last free booth. Sirius sits down on the edge of the sofa, strategically placing one leg over the other so they’re visible to the people who pass by. It might not be a whale pun or lilacs, but Sirius’ legs rarely fail them.

James returns with an ale for Sirius and his own awful lager with cordial in it. The pink makes it look pretty, but that’s its only redeeming feature in Sirius’ opinion. James sighs happily when he takes the first sip, though.

“Did I tell you about that movie I found the other day? It’s like a comedy about vampires and werewolves, it’s amazing.”

Sirius listens to James try to explain it, and they then spend a considerable amount of time discussing various vampire questions. Do they get boners, and how? Can vampires be vegan? Are there vampires working night jobs that no one knows about?

Their stomach is hurting from laughing by the time Sirius gets up to get a second round. When they get back, James isn’t alone.

Remus pushes the door open to The Drunk Carnation, holding it politely for Lily, in spite of what a pain she’s being today. It is Lily’s turn to buy the drinks, which cheers Remus up slightly. At least if she’s going to be mocked she can do it over some semi-expensive alcohol.

Once they’re seated, Remus quickly changes the subject away from Tumblr.

“So how’s your acting class going?”

“Pretty well,” Lily says, sipping at her Seven and Seven. “That creep still won’t stop asking me out.”

“I thought you were going to ask the cute clumsy one to pretend to be your boyfriend?”

Lily shrugs.

“I still might. It’s sort of hilarious watching him work up the nerve to talk to me, though. I’m not sure if I want to put him out of his misery yet.”

“You’re a cruel woman, Lily Evans.”

“Anyway,” Lily says, shrugging off what she probably considers a compliment, “you aren’t getting off that easy. What did you think of padfoot?”

Remus groans, dropping her forehead onto the table and nearly tipping over her can of PBR.

“They’re fine,” she grumbles.

“Someone’s got a crush,” Lily sing-songs. “Hang on.” Her tone of voice changes slightly, and Remus looks up, following her line of sight. She recognizes when Lily’s ‘cute person’ radar is going off. “Weirdly,” Lily continues, looking back at Remus, “that’s him. They guy from acting class.”

“Oh,” Remus frowns. “The creepy one or the one you’ve set your cap for?”

Lily snorts.

“The latter, Jane Austen.” Remus smiles over the top of her beer, but doesn’t reply. Lily looks oddly hesitant for a moment, before her expression clears. “We’re going to go say hi,” she says firmly. Remus groans, but let’s Lily tug her to her feet. “Oh stop moaning,” Lily says.

“I thought this was a dedicated romance-free evening,” Remus says self-righteously.

“It’s just a hello.” Lily strikes a pose as soon as they’re alongside the table, cocking one hip and tilting her head flirtatiously. “James. Fancy seeing you here.”

The man at the table starts slightly, looking up from his phone. He widens his eyes and nearly drops the poor phone into his drink.

“Lily? Oh. Wow, hi. Hello.” Remus stifles a smile as James glances over at her. “Erm,” he says, getting awkwardly to his feet and holding out a hand. “I’m James.”

“Remus.”

“Nice to meet you,” James says politely, before his eyes drift inevitably back over to Lily. “Would you two like to sit?”

Lily looks over at Remus, raising an eyebrow. Remus sighs inwardly, resigning herself to a dull evening of playing third wheel. She knows Lily will go back to their table without protest if Remus asks her to, but she can also see that Lily is more interested in James than her conversation about him had let on.

“Sure,” Remus says, sliding into one side of the booth. She sits on the end, so Lily and James are forced to sit next to each other. Lily grins at her from across the table, and James looks to be a strange combination of thrilled and alarmed.

Remus is just trying to think of a way to excuse herself to give the two of them some time to talk, when someone else approaches the booth.

“I leave for two minutes and you’ve already replaced me,” the person says, heaving a dramatic sigh. Remus just barely manages not to jerk up her head, but she’s staring so intently at her beer that it’s possible she looks like some sort of deranged beer label design student.

Oh no, Remus thinks. I recognize that voice. James is babbling out some kind of protest and Remus’ stomach clenches up. Have we interrupted some kind of date?

Fortunately, Lily quickly takes charge.

“You’re too late. He’s mine now,” she says with a grin. James looks like he’s struggling not to combust on the spot, and Remus stifles a laugh. She’s grateful Lily’s given her a moment to get her equilibrium back. The stranger, padfoot, Remus’ brain helpfully supplies, slides into the booth next to Remus. She turns, friendly expression carefully propped up on her face, and smiles.

“Hello. I’m Remus. The extremely rude one across the way is Lily.”

“Cheers,” Lily says, sipping her drink.

“Sirius,” padfoot says with a grin, holding out a hand. Remus shakes it, trying not to look terribly star-struck.

I can be chill about this, she tells herself firmly. A tiny voice in the back of her mind is screaming that’s a GIANT lie, Lupin. Sirius is even cuter in person and they’re right there, nearly touching her and they smell really nice and it’s horribly distracting. She can’t even escape to the bar to get her head together because Sirius has just brought new drinks and Remus is now trapped against the wall.

“So,” she says a bit desperately, “how do you two know each other?”

Lily, who has apparently decided she’s fulfilled her helpfulness quotient for the year, just smirks at Remus over her drink and lets her flounder.

“How don’t we know each other?” Sirius waggles their eyebrows and grins. They then want to punch their own face.

James laughs nervously and glances at Lily. She is pretty, but he’s pathetic. Unlike Sirius, who’s the epitome of coolness right about now.

Remus looks a little pink. It’s adorable. “Oh, were you on a–”

“I beg you not to finish that sentence,” James cuts in. “Sirius is just being a dick. We know each other from school, way back.”

“Clearly this school thing is the way to meet people,” Remus says. Sirius laughs, possibly more than the joke warrants.

But Remus is wearing another t-shirt with whales, and is so beautiful, and Sirius feels like bursting into song. They’re lucky Remus and Lily didn’t turn up after a couple more beers.

“I like your shirt,” they say and nod towards Remus’ chest.

Remus looks down on her beer and giggles. “Whale whale whale,” she says, then looks up. “Get it?”

Lily groans on the other side of the table, but Sirius laughs again. They can’t seem to help it. This person is their kryptonite. “That’s funny. Do you have more of these?”

Remus tells them about the overWHALEmed t-shirt and Sirius pretends not to already know about it. James casts a smug glance at Sirius every now and then, but he looks too nervous himself to be gloating.

“What do you do for fun?” Remus asks, turned to Sirius, her leg almost touching their skin through the fishnets.

“I like singing,” Sirius says. “But it’s not too serious.”

“Ha–” Remus starts, and Sirius groans and buries their head in their arms. “Sorry,” Remus adds quickly. “I’m sure you get that a lot.”

“You have no idea.” Sirius lifts their head again and smiles. “Anyway. What do you like?”

Remus hesitates. “I write,” she says. “But nothing too– er, consequential.”

“Nice save.” Sirius braves nudging her arm with their elbow, and Remus looks at them and smiles.

Sirius doesn’t want to look away. Remus smiles like she’s holding back a much bigger smile, giving the impression that there’s just too much sunshine in her to contain. Sirius spills over.

“I followed you on Tumblr earlier today,” they blurt out. “I liked your selfies.”

Remus goes red. That was the last reaction Sirius had anticipated, but it’s not terrible. “I know,” she admits. “I don’t understand why, though.”

Because you’re beautiful. “They were very aesthetically pleasing pictures,” Sirius improvises. “I was so uninspired and then I saw them and it was good content, what can I say.”

Remus is shaking her head. “Not as good as your singing.”

“You checked out my blog?” At this point, the point where their arms are touching feels like burning, but it’d be weird to move now. Also, Sirius doesn’t want to.

“I don’t have more than ten followers, of course I get curious,” Remus says defensively. She’s not moving her arm, either.

“Really?!” Tumblr really is a hellsite. Remus, no more than ten followers? Atrocious.

“Yes?” Remus looks puzzled.

“You don’t want more?” Sirius is grappling with this concept.

“Not really.” Remus shrugs. “Anyway, I listened to a bunch of your songs, and I really liked them. You should be the one with more followers.”

“Thank you.” Sirius doesn’t know what else to say.

Lily clears her throat. “Excuse me for interrupting what I’m sure would have been an incredibly drawn out flirting process, but I’d like my best friend back, so if you could just exchange numbers now that’d be great.”

Sirius makes a surprised exhale, and Remus moves her arm back at lightning speed. “I will murder you,” she says calmly.

Lily just smiles at her. “Sure, but let’s get drinks first.”

“I’m sorry,” Remus mutters. “May I get out?”

Sirius gets up and gives way, watching with amusement at how James tries not to die when Lily passes him in closer proximity than he could possibly have hoped to have her. They say goodbye, and Lily and Remus start walking away before Sirius finds their bearings.

“Wait!” They take a few long steps to catch up. “Actually, Remus, I’d like that number, if you want to give it to me.”

Remus raises her eyebrows and her mouth opens slightly. How she’s making “flummoxed” look hot, Sirius has no idea.

“Sure, yeah.”

Lily looks extremely smug as they exchange numbers. Sirius is not looking forward to the look on James’ face when they get back to him.

Remus gives them one last barely-contained smile before her and Lily leave, for real this time.

Sirius looks at their phone and starts laughing. Remus saved her number as ‘whale endowed’.

Yes, Sirius has definitely been struck by inspiration.

#wolfstar introvert prompt #wolfstar #trans marauders #tumblr au #bunfox productions #my fic #jamie writes lily so well i'm :')#collabing is so fun i hope yall enjoy this as much as i did lmao

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uniformbravo · 8 years ago

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ok here are some of my Actual s2 thoughts (voltron spoilers below)

so back when i first watched s1 i guess i wasn’t totally 100% into it?? i dont remember if i ever really talked abt it on here but i remember being a little confused and trying to figure out why it was so popular bc i honestly didn’t think it was that great but idk i must’ve warmed up to it at some point between then and now bc i was way more into it this time around aaaaa

i rly did like s2 better than s1 tho??? idk maybe it’s just bc it’s new so it’s the hype of new content & everything but dang overall i do feel like i enjoyed it more

i rly like the art style and especially the animation style like this is probably just me coming to this show straight from lolirock but like... while lolirock has a really appealing art style im honestly not a fan of the type of animation they use so it felt really nice to come back to like. hand-drawn stuff idk just! voltron is a v visually appealing show in all aspects god bless

everyone is still super trans wow i can’t believe every character is trans

tbh i love shiro? but it’s weird bc i actually think he’s rly boring when it comes to his “leadership” kind of characteristics but like also he suffers a lot and gets a lot of the plot-heavy development and normally i might be annoyed by that but im just...... so weak

also speakin of shiro there was a lot of shiro/keith this season and like..... ok im gonna be honest i dont rly ship them or anything like at all im not too keen on the two of them that way but this person i follow has this au where they’re brothers and imagining them that way made me enjoy their scenes like 100% more so like Good Shit (but tbh keith saying “you’re like a brother to me” or was it maybe “father” i can’t remember but either way that line killed me pls i want them to have a rly strong platonic bond i want shiro to feel rly protective of keith and i want keith to feel safer around shiro aaaaa i love it so much)

pidge starting to adopt altean terms and phrases fucking killed me dude like with the time vocabulary n shit, even the others started picking it up a little bit it’s So Fucking Good im so happy aaaaaAA

i still love keith and lance i hope they never calm down w/ each other and keep fighting forever bye (like rewatching s1 when lance is like “yOU AGAIN” and keith is like “who are u” hfhdgd gOD that was so GOOD)

a lot of the character development was rly good but tbh im a little disappointed by the lack thereof when it came to lance and hunk like ?? at this point they’re still treated like the Joke Characters for the most part, i mean lance did have his one little moment of glory in that one episode but i would really love to see like. an actual full character arc w/ him. and i know hunk did have some stuff in s1 w/ like the balmerans & shae but this season it felt like he was just kinda pushed aside and i mean the same could be said of pidge, who did have a lot of story in s1 but barely anything in s2, so maybe i’m just being a little impatient lol i mean. if u take a step back and lay it all out, s1 focused on shiro, pidge, allura, and a little bit of hunk, and then s2 focused on shiro and keith, so maybe s3 (idk if it’s even confirmed yet but like hypothetically) will focus on lance and hunk more? and probably shiro again tbh i mean it doesn’t really feel like anything’s been set up to go into a lance or hunk arc, but at the same time there wasn’t really any setup for keith’s whole s2 thing in s1 either, so there’s still the possibility that it could all happen in s3 but like. with the way s2 went and the unanswered questions it left about keith i can see s3 being very keith-centric, not to mention all the reminders we got about pidge’s whole family issue this season, so s3 will probably focus on that a lot too idk i mean at the end of the day they are pretty short seasons, it makes sense that they can only focus on a select few characters at a time, so i feel like at this point it makes sense to just sit back and wait to see what happens, & then if hunk and lance are still kind of shoved aside w/ nary even a mere setup then wtf actually

not to keep running w/ the negativity & criticisms but honestly what i really love in a show is complex characters written realistically and w/ voltron i feel like it /almost/ delivers but not really? like, not to bring up lolirock again but that show has fairly one-dimensional characters who are written relying more on their character type than anything with a ton of depth; the protagonists are Good and the antagonists are Evil; auriana is the goofball, talia is the responsible one, iris is the main character or the “pure good” one, mephisto is the clumsy villain, praxina is the irritable villain- like it’s all just very straightforward (most of the time). i feel like voltron is a little more complex with its characters than lolirock, but in the end it still kind of sticks to the same method of characterization; it’s definitely not as cookie-cutter, but each character does have one or two characteristics that blatantly stick out and make them.... i dont know, really predictable? like you Know that every time a girl shows up lance is gonna hit on her, and every time there’s some cool technology pidge is gonna fawn over it and every time there’s food hunk is gonna say some shit about being hungry, and keith and lance argue a lot and shiro gets the team’s shit together because he’s the Leader and it’s just like basically, with voltron it feels very “telling” rather than “showing” with most things, and besides manifesting in the story it shows in the way the characters are written, too. in most situations, the characters’ reactions are written based more on those few main characteristics they’ve been given than more realistic reactions to their current situation, and maybe that’s a little confusing but i’ll try to clarify actually im sorry but i just completely lost my train of thought and i can’t get it back, it’s currently coming up on 1am and im incredibly tired right now so i’m gonna have to cut this short but like. basically, the characters in voltron kind of have their main characteristics and it’s fine to have things like that bc it helps define characters but the way the writers use them feels a lot like those hogwarts house sorting quizzes that are like “what’s your favorite animal? a) lion b) snake c) raven d) badger” like it tends to be relatively straightforward and predictable in a bad way, and a lot of that execution has to do with the storytelling style the show has overall

ok ANYWAY let’s say something more positive now: the soundtrack to this show is absolutely phenomenal tbh i remember thinking this last time too, just the general sound it has, it feels like an homage to the older series and acts as a subtle way to bring that kind of aesthetic into it and i rly like it (i mean i’ve never seen the old show so idk what kind of aesthetic it has but u know what i mean. the kind of “old video tape sound” kind of thing. u know the game oxenfree, which has a similar music aesthetic. god idk how to explain this i hope u know what i’m trying to say. i rly like voltron’s soundtrack)

like i didnt mean to go on this big rant all “here’s everything i didn’t like abt voltron what a Bad Show” bc i actually really like it a lot!! the fact that im picking it apart like this is actually a good sign that i like it bc if i dont care abt something i won’t put in the effort, u know? if i don’t like it then i won’t be all “here’s what i hope to see from this show in the future” right

anyway it’s fuckin 1am bye, i love voltron goodnight

#retag later #voltron blogging #voltron spoilers /

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mostwretchedson-blog · 8 years ago

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really LONG CHARACTER SURVEY. RULES.

repost , don’t reblog ! tag 10 ! good luck !

TAGGED. @paternall (actually i stole this from them oH WELL THANKS DAD) TAGGING. @stolenyourmiracles, @andromcdax, @nimueries, @wemightfxll, @lxstpriestess, @lakeknight, @lcnglived, @ofxavalon + anyone else who wants to give this a go! (for multimuse blogs: pick whichever muse you like~)

BASICS. FULL NAME : sir mordred mac arthur NICKNAME : none AGE : 26 BIRTHDAY : 1 may ETHNIC GROUP : cornish NATIONALITY : british LANGUAGE / S : english, cornish, norn (the language spoken in orkney at this time), latin, ancient greek (very little) SEXUAL ORIENTATION : homosexual (possibly demisexual) ROMANTIC ORIENTATION : homoromantic RELATIONSHIP STATUS : single by default ( flexible ) CLASS : royal / nobility HOME TOWN / AREA : cornwall (birth to age 12) & orkney (age 12 to 16) CURRENT HOME : camelot PROFESSION : knight of the round table

PHYSICAL. HAIR : dark brown, straight, roughly shoulder-length EYES : vivid green NOSE : straight, patrician FACE : angular, vaguely feminine, with a high forehead and cheekbones LIPS : gently full, shapely, animated COMPLEXION : fair, generally clear BLEMISHES : scattered freckles on his body SCARS : various, but most notable is a scar on his right outer thigh, from a wound sustained in a minor skirmish with saxon raiders when he was twenty TATTOOS : none HEIGHT : 5′5″ WEIGHT : around 130 lbs. BUILD : slender, athletic; not physically strong, but quite agile ; as a transgender man, he has “female” sex characteristics FEATURES : androgynous, expressive, “pretty”; his beard is gained through magical means ALLERGIES : pollen (mild) USUAL HAIR STYLE : loose, or in a half-tail; rarely in something resembling war plaits USUAL FACE LOOK : sarcastic and skeptical USUAL CLOTHING : tunic, trousers, leggings, leather shoes or riding boots; armor was largely mail.

PSYCHOLOGY. FEAR / S : his fate as king arthur’s doom; falling from his father’s favor; horses ASPIRATION / S : to be loved and acknowledged by arthur; to be loved in general; to improve quality of life for the lower classes of the realm POSITIVE TRAITS : charismatic, eloquent, diplomatic, clever, witty, family-oriented, loyal, egalitarian NEGATIVE TRAITS : manipulative, childish, melancholic, pessimistic, vindictive, impulsive, headstrong, envious MBTI : enfj-t (the protagonist) ( ooc: om F G I AM DYING OF LAUGHTER RN ) ZODIAC : taurus TEMPERAMENT : choleric, melancholic SOUL TYPE / S : leader, spiritualist ANIMALS : eagle VICE HABIT / S : arguing, holding grudges, listening to gossip FAITH : pagan / old religion GHOSTS ? : yes AFTERLIFE ? : uncertain, but does not believe in the christian concepts of heaven and hell REINCARNATION ? : uncertain, leaning toward yes ALIENS ? : no (has no idea what they are) POLITICAL ALIGNMENT : complicated - he’s the son of kings and queens, but he was raised a commoner, and as such has a deep empathy for the common people, perhaps even more so than arthur and the other knights. in a modern sense, he’s quite liberal. ECONOMIC PREFERENCE : again, complicated - he misses his life as a fisherman’s son, to an extent, but also believes that he can do a great amount of good in his current economic place. SOCIOPOLITICAL POSITION : upper class - as the son of the high king, he’s squarely in the royal class, but as a bastard, his position is lower than his legitimate half-siblings. EDUCATION LEVEL : highly educated. morgause spared no expense for her firstborn once she got him back. prior to his arrival at orkney, he was illiteral and uneducated, but great efforts were made and he found he had a great penchant for learning once the opportunity was made available to him.

FAMILY. FATHER : king arthur pendragon MOTHER : queen morgause of orkney SIBLINGS : gawain, agravaine, gaheris, gareth, clarissant (maternal half-siblings); loholt, amr (paternal half-brothers) EXTENDED FAMILY : igraine of cornwall (grandmother), uther pendragon (paternal grandfather, deceased), gorlois of cornwall (maternal grandfather, deceased), morgan le fay (aunt), urien of rheged (uncle, husband of morgan), ywain the lion (cousin, son of morgan and urien), elaine of garlot (aunt), nentres (uncle, husband of elaine), galescalain (cousin, son of elaine and nentres), elaine ii (cousin, daughter of elaine and nentres), ragnelle (sister-in-law, wife of gawain), lovell (nephew, son of gawain and ragnelle), florence (nephew, son of gawain and ragnelle), gingalain (nephew, son of gawain and ragnelle), laurel (sister-in-law, wife of agravaine), lynette (sister-in-law, wife of gaheris), lionors (sister-in-law, wife of gareth) NAME MEANING / S : mordred - definite meaning unknown, but multiple possible meanings / origins: from latin moderātus (moderator); or from celtic mor (sea). some sources supply the dual meanings of “brave counselor” and “ill / evil counselor”. elizabeth e. wein, using the welsh form medraut, cites that the name means “marksman”. mac arthur - son of arthur. (disclaimer: “mac” is a scottish patronymic, which is not historically accurate given that orkney was not part of scotland (caledonia) until the 15th century. however, i’m using it for ease because i don’t have any knowledge of cornish or norn patronymics.) HISTORICAL CONNECTION ? : highly debatable

FAVOURITES. BOOK : he’ll read whatever he can get his hands on, but he favors plato and ovid. MOVIE : n / a 5 SONGS : n / a DEITY : as a follower of the old religion, he believes in a multitude of deities, but pays special deference to the mother goddess in all her aspects HOLIDAY : mordred isn’t a particular fan of holidays in general, but he does enjoy lughnasadh and mabon (beginning of autumn and mid-autumn) MONTH : november SEASON : autumn and winter PLACE : the sea, especially on a ship WEATHER : cool, overcast weather - just on the edge of gloomy, but not quite SOUND : waves lapping against the shore or the side of a ship; the deep thud of an arrow hitting a target SCENT / S : ocean air, moss, fresh-baked bread TASTE / S : fish, honey cakes FEEL / S : the spray of the sea against his skin, a cool autumn breeze, icy cold water ANIMAL / S : dogs, seagulls NUMBER : n / a COLOUR : deep violet or indigo, green, blue-green

EXTRA. TALENTS : archery, sailing, fishing, net-making, arrow-making, languages, diplomacy BAD AT : swordplay, jousting, cooking, maintaining his emotions, animal husbandry, forgiving injustices against himself TURN ONS : tenderness, physical affection, verbal affection, playfulness, being dominated just slightly, androgyny TURN OFFS : remarks about his body / gender, being expected to behave like a woman sexually, pain, hypermasculinity / buffness HOBBIES : sailing, archery, reading latin poetry TROPES : antagonistic offspring, bastard bastard, face-heel turn (or possibly heel-face revolving door), fallen hero, genocide backfire, heroic bsod, tragic villain ( ooc: though i hesitate to call my mordred a “villain” in the usual sense, it counts ), well-intentioned extremist AESTHETIC TAGS : blog tag; general aesthetic - stormy seas, a cloudy sky full of ravens, barefoot tree-climbing, and daddy issues GPOY QUOTES : "if you do not hate me, try to love me a little, father; it is lonely never to have been loved, only devoured."

FC INFO. MAIN FC / S : ben barnes ALT FC / S : n/a OLDER FC / S : n/a ( ooc: because he doesn’t live that long ahahahaha i h8 myself ) YOUNGER FC / S : maisie williams VOICE CLAIM / S : ashes o’reilly GENDERBENT FC / S : n/a

MUN QUESTIONS. Q1 : if you could write your character your way in their own movie , what would it be called , what style would it be filmed in , and what would it be about ? A1 : I FUCKING WANT A MORDRED MOVIE OKAY. seriously, this is a hot-button issue for me. i’ve never seen a film or tv adaptation where mordred was depicted well imo. i actually really want a mordred musical but i am no good at scriptwriting or songwriting. anyway, back to the question. i would probably title my hypothetical mordred movie the raven knight or something like that. i don’t know much about film styles, but i would love it to be directed by niels arden oplev or david fincher. (bonus: the musical would ideally be directed by michael arden.) obviously it’d be about mordred. duh. it would span from childhood to death and it would be emotionally intense and complex, but also have some black comedy elements. Q2 : what would their soundtrack / score sound like ? A2 : it would have clear celtic elements to it, with lots of woodwinds and strings. nothing too dramatic or overproduced. i would want the score to tell as much of a story as the film itself. (bonus: for the musical, i would love alan menken and stephen schwartz because they did a marvelous job on the hunchback musical, which is probably my fav.) Q3 : why did you start writing this character ? A3 : i’ve been writing mordred in some form or another since i first got into writing. he’s been my mainstay, and has gone through many changes and evolutions. Q4 : what first attracted you to this character ? A4: jason done’s portrayal in the 1998 merlin miniseries. now i realize that he’s ridiculously hammy and overdramatic, but when i was younger (literally, i was 7 years old) i really loved him even though he was pretty much irredeemably evil in that version. Q5 : describe the biggest thing you dislike about your muse. A5 : he’s shamelessly manipulative, and he can be pretty whiny at times. he lets his depression rule him, and he tends to use his grudge against arthur as an excuse for his actions. while it comes from a place of desperately wanting arthur’s approval and love, he does nurture the chip on his shoulder rather than trying to understand arthur’s point of view. Q6 : what do you have in common with your muse ? A6 : we’re both trans and super fucking gay. we also have hella daddy issues. Q7 : how does your muse feel about you ? A7 : i don’t tend to think about my muse as an actual person. Q8 : what characters does your muse have interesting interactions with ? A8 : oh my god, let me just write you a list. obviously, his most interesting interactions are with arthur and morgause, but i also really enjoy writing him opposite guinevere, galahad, lancelot, and any of his brothers. Q9 : what gives you inspiration to write your muse ? A9 : the fact that i love mordred so much. he’s probably my absolute favorite fictional character of all time. that he’s in the public domain and i essentially have free rein to do what i like with him without feeling guilty helps a lot, too. Q10 : how long did this take you to complete ? A10 : ummmm idk, i forgot to keep time, but somewhere in the vicinity of several hours.

#muse.#hc.#ooc.

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