#at no point is the human laughing at their partner that part is v important to me

[theshadowrealmitself]

Human who enjoys fake outs (like how people expect peanut brittle containers to hold fake snakes, so they start putting actual peanut brittle into the containers) and it always seems like their Vulcan partner is unaware of what’s happening

Like they’ll get visitors and the visitors will pick up a container that says “completely non-suspicious peanuts, contains no snakes,” and they’ll slowly open it to find…peanuts, and they’ll go “oh. I was expecting snakes.” and the Vulcan responds with “I thought that label was illogical, but I understand now why my partner thought it was needed, I assure you there are no snakes in that container.” while their Human partner is just. dying of laughter and hiding it terribly by standing behind their partner

And it should be obvious, right?? That the Human is putting weird labels on stuff to make people think that there’s something wrong with the items, but even with the Human always giggling into their partner to uselessly hide their laughter from people, their partner just always responds with “I see now why we needed to specify that the drinks were not poisoned on its label, my bondmate foresaw that you would think they were poisoned”, like aren’t Vulcans touch telepaths, shouldn’t you know when they’re laughing against you that your partner is pranking your visitors??

Everyone finds out later on that it’s actually the Vulcan who makes the labels and puts them on everything to make their partner laugh, and then feigning ignorance to make them laugh even harder

[sanjisprincesswifey]

pros and cons

summary: the good, the bad, the ugly, perfectly curated into a pros and cons list

♡: reupload (but better now), some nsfw content is listed; MDNI, includes all characters with indications of a female reader!

black leg sanji

pros:

constantly wants to color coordinate your outfits together

let’s you pick meals at minimum once a week

very good kisser (he practiced with his pillow a lot before your first date)

he wants you to walk him like a dog

sanji never lets you forget how much you mean to him

always remembers important dates, birthdays, anniversaries, etc. 

remembers the little things and notices your absence (will often go to try and find you)

adapts to whatever love language you respond to 

cons:

the nicotine smell embeds into your sheets and clothes and is a pain in the ass to get out

yells for any minor inconvenience

occasionally too handsy

always finishes before you

major jealousy issues

is constantly horny

says he’s fine but he’s dying inside

doesn’t understand the concept of alone time and takes it personally if you ask to be by yourself

roronoa zoro

pros: 

the best napping partner

protective

is a softie but only with you

very emotionally intelligent 

gym trainer boyfriend

let’s you take the relationship at your own pace because he can’t be bothered 

loves to mark you and give you hickies

always makes sure you finish first 

cons: 

stinky (bro smells like sweat and steel)

does not have a single romantic bone in his body; you’ll literally have to teach him how to be a boyfriend

is extremely blunt 

snores super loud 

might fall asleep while you’re talking

you can no longer be friends with sanji 

doesn’t ask you to date him, just assumes you are together

gets upset when you can’t keep up with his drinking

monkey d luffy

pros: 

the best hugger 

extremely loyal to you

hides midnight snacks for both of you

lets you sit on the ship’s figurehead with him

king of silly sentimental gifts (hand-picked flower, cool rock, pretty seashell, that sort of thing)

always makes sure you’re included in conversations

shares his favorite foods with you

can always make you feel better

cons:

doesn’t know how to be quiet or whisper

never lets you win arguments

throws himself at you with no regard to his strength

no concept of personal space

rubs his boogers on you

accidentally makes fun of the noises you make during sex

will steal blankets from you while you’re asleep  

points out your pimples or zits 

usopp

pros: 

always finds a way to make you laugh

grows flowers for you

comforts you if you’re insecure

handmade gifts!!!!!!

brags about you to everyone

loves to show you off and tell stories about your adventures together

names special attacks after you

always lets you in on the pranks he pulls 

cons: 

is insecure

would sacrifice you to an enemy to protect himself

shows you bugs even if you’re afraid of them

incredibly awkward with all your firsts 

clammy hands

make jokes during arguments (it makes you madder and the cycle continues)

never tops

sometimes pranks you too 

cyborg franky

pros:

is always telling you how hot you are

can literally build/make you anything you desire

romantic (can be corny sometimes though)

so flirty with you

human refrigerator; occasionally lets you store things in there

introduces you like this: “and this is my super smokin’ hot girlfriend, OW” to anyone who will listen

protects you during fights

king of reassurance

cons:

messy

never wears pants

slaps your ass too hard since he’s half metal

dad jokes 24/7

you can’t compliment him without him doing a montage of poses

difficult to cuddle with (again he’s made of parts)

always busy fixing something on the ship

is constantly asking you if he can make you a cyborg too

nami

pros:

lets you take a few of her tangerines

immune to her reprimanding when something bad happens (most times)

extremely thoughtful gift giver

shares her money with you

cares deeply about you (don’t point it out though because then she’ll stop)

is always telling you how pretty you are

very good in bed

is more lenient with your allowance

cons:

pawns gifts you get her

bad communicator

critiques everything about you

can and will distance herself from you

charges you if you piss her off

talks about vivi way too much for having a whole other girlfriend

doesn’t apologize after fights even if she caused them

bullies you (with love)

nico robin

pros:

leaves you notes in books to find later

the voice of reason in your relationship

notices and compliments you on every little change you make (haircuts, style change, etc.)

extremely good listener

literally a human search engine; so smart you can ask her almost any question and she knows the answer

passionate lover; treats you like a god in bed

soft lips

spoils you in every way that she can

cons:

can make you feel dumb with her endless knowledge

will never say ‘i love you’ first

always tops (a possible pro depending on your preferences tbh)

has nightmares almost every night ):

closed off in the beginning of your relationship

franky hits on her (and you) all the time

rather be reading than with you

takes your relationship extremely slow

portgas d ace

pros:

can heat food up for you at any time day or night

loves pda

plans fun dates

probably says ‘i love you’ a million times a day

into body worship (both ways)

kills bugs for you

walk him like a dog, sis !

never says no to you

cons:

sweaty and greasy in the summer

farts and gives you a dutch oven

doesn’t take anything seriously

adhd moments

mommy AND daddy issues

likes to lay on top of you even though he’s huge and basically crushes you

talks with his mouth full

is loud in bed (because he enjoys it so much) and everyone can hear when you two have sex

sabo

pros:

another body worshipper

dragon claw fist. need i say more?

the best secret keeper

praises you

would actually bow down to you

very respectful, asked you to kiss on your first date

awkward but sensual lover

a loyal puppy

cons:

loves being right

sore winner & loser

cocky ass mf

talks about luffy and ace 24/7

never on time

bad temper

might catch on fire if he’s mad

loves to tease you (again, could be a pro depending on your preferences)

shanks

pros:

buys you anything you could ever want

good kisser

always showing you off

treats you like a queen

calls you his wife

very affectionate in public

another worshipper; does that thing where his kisses lead up from your hand to your shoulder

when he gets drunk and you try to kiss him, he pushes you away and says “get off me, i have a wife”

cons:

gets you riled up during the day

teases you all the time

can be unreliable

bad at flirting

drunk all the time

still makes jokes about his arm even though it’s been YEARS

lingering alcohol smell

pervert

trafalgar law

pros:

rarely cooks but always does for you when you’re sick

smells amazing all of the time

lets you do this eyeliner in the morning (based off this fanart)

is a victim of the ‘she fell first, he fell harder’ trope

gives you sound solutions to your problems

literally becomes addicted to you and can’t live without you

flusters easily, very shy

would shave his facial hair if you asked him to (please tell him to shave off that godforsaken beard)

cons:

very blunt

never talks about his feelings

grammar police

a virgin; he doesn’t know what to do but fakes confidence like he does (it makes your first time a bit awkward but just talk him through it, babe)

humbles you without meaning to

over explains if you broach a subject he likes

sassy

just stares at you when you try to flirt with him

eustass kid

pros:

scary boyfriend privilege

an absolute beast in bed

insanely good kisser

raspy morning voice

you get to use his boobies as a pillow

is very smart but kinda dumb

eats pussy like a starved man

will always save you some food (it’s how he shows he cares)

cons:

dramatic

hangs out with killer more than you

will put the milk carton back in the fridge even if it’s empty

you can never be mad at him or make him mad because he’s the biggest asshole ever

ignores you if you’re fighting

zones out while you’re talking

if you send him a long, thoughtful text, he’ll respond back with ‘k’

what’s his is his and what’s yours is his

donquixote rosinante

pros:

walk. him. like. a. dog.

possessive over you, especially around his brother

would protect you with his last dying breath

absolute romantic

probably writes you poems

gentle giant, is so careful and soft with you

amazing cook despite accidentally setting himself on fire

has the patience of a god, once again, because of his brother

cons:

clumsy

you have to keep a fire extinguisher with you at all times

you can’t get the smoke smell out of his clothes

he’s so tall you can’t kiss normally, he has to pick you up

whiny

silent treatment

covers up his farts with his devil fruit and you don’t realize it until it stinks

has really bad resting bitch face (literally goes from :| to :) in .03 seconds)

likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated (✿◠‿◠)

[televisionboy]

this gif is everything skdjdjfn and this is my first alphabet! so give me love and constructive criticism.

taglist: @punkgeekchic @visionsofsweettea @adoresobs @am4sawa @reblogsfandom @evarolines @somethingstuffy

Timothee Chalamet Fluff Alphabet

A ctivities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

Dates with Timothee are very very comforting and new at the same time. He LOVES getting out of the house and going to a city where shops are lining every corner and small cafes with coffee to die for. But he also loves to cook you dinner and rehash your days. He’s quite a domestic person.

B eauty - What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?

Timothee finds all of you attractive. But his favorite thing to do is whenever you’re reading a book or the two of you are watching TV, and you’re at one end of the couch and he’s at the other end, he loves to run his hands up and down your legs while they rest in his lap. Drumming his fingers against your knees is like a calming thing

C omfort - How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?

He doesn’t talk, at all. He’s an incredibly patient boyfriend who will sit there with you and sync your breathing while hugging you. He will listen for hours and hours to you talk about it. And if not, he makes tea for you and offers cuddles and comfortable silences. I mean, either way he always makes tea.

D reams - How do they picture their future with their s/o?

He would love a family with you, he knows you’d be an incredible parent to his children. But he’s content being young, having new experiences and getting to be spontaneous. If he had to think about it, he’d like one or two children and maybe a dog. Living in a cozy but spacious home, of course there’s a pool in the back.

E qual - Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

well, when he’s in the mood, jealous/mad he definitely will be dominant (and especially in bed) but he’s in no way so dominant that you will feel like his maid or a child. But he really doesn’t want to consider your relationship to be that way. Both of you are just you and treat each other equally. 

F ight - Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?

He gets cold when he’s fighting with you. Timothee’s a bit like a younger sibling while fighting, he knows how to push your buttons and won’t stop until he see’s a reaction. But he has that guilty feeling wash over him so fast. He’s very very easy to forgive you because how could he say no to someone like you??

G ratitude - How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?

SO GRATEFUL. He spoils like no other. If you point out that you like a pair of earrings, they’re yours (it doesn’t matter that they’re pure diamonds) you mentioned that you want to see Italy? Tickets booked. And a great thing about him, on top of being a good listener is that he has a great eye. And he picks up on things and is quick to notice them. Which is a big reason he’s so successful in acting. Even if it’s something as simple as washing the dishes so he can relax, to something as kind as making him your very own fan gift.. he melts every time.

H onesty - Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?

Mmm, he certainly tries not to but everyone keeps secrets. There are things that both of you prefer to keep private but he wouldn’t keep something like him kissing another woman a secret.

I nspiration - Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?

You’ve inspired him and fueled him to become a stronger actor even if you’re not one yourself. Some of your advice is seriously helpful, and some are unhelpful but hilarious. No matter what you will tell him, he knows you’re waiting at home or even at his set with open arms, waiting for him to win an award and fangirl online to other Timmy fans. It makes him blush and cause a billion butterflies to erupt in his stomach.

J ealousy - Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?

He trusts you 100% that you would never leave him, and he doesn’t want to be one of those boyfriends who restricts their partner. But there’s a part of him that’s incredibly insecure and is convinced you can do better. There are some parts that WANT you to leave him and do better. He would never ever show it in public, but you can read him well. You’ll put a hand on his bouncing knee and kiss his jaw.

K iss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like? 

He knows he’s a damn good kisser as well as charmer. You had been on a couple of dates with him, on one you mentioned that it was on your bucket list to be kissed in the rain. He made sure to schedule a date when there would be rain and he took you on a picnic. Towards the end, it had started to pour and you were trying to run back to the car but he grabbed your face and kissed you so hard but so passionately. His curls were dripping and the sandwiches were ruined but the feeling was incredible. 

L ove Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?

Rightttt after that kiss, in the car you were drying off and laughing with him while the radio was on in the background. The car was on but he wasn’t driving. Instead, he turned to you and told you he was in love with you. Both of you had said “love you” but never “i’m in love with you”

M arriage - Do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?

He’s on the fence about babies but he knows for certain that he wants to marry you. You know that scene in The Office where Jim shows the engagement ring for Pam and is like “I got it 3 weeks into dating”? That’s Timmy. 

He brings you to a premire of one of his movies and at the end when all the credit’s are rolling, it says “y/n will you marry me?” and when you turn back around, Timmy is on one knee and Armie is most likely behind him crying his eyes out. 

N icknames - What do they call their s/o?

“Babe” “Baby” “Mon cherie” When you two are married, he’ll join you in the kitchen while cooking dinner and call you “Mrs Chalamet” before kissing your shoulder and beginning to chop veggies. It’s just incredibly domestic 

O n Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

so so so obvious and so in love. He shows you off as much as possible and talks about you on talk shows until he’s sure that the audience is annoyed and SNL mocks him (and even then, he’ll continue)

P DA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?

he brags but he does know when to dial it back for your own privacy and humility. BUT that doesn’t mean he won’t hold your hand in public, or banter with you on a twitter thread even if you both are right next to each other on the couch playing footsie

Q uirk - Some random ability they have that’s beneficial in a relationship.

He has a great eye and is quick to pick up on things. It’s almost as if he has certain senses and can tell when you’re having a bad day or upset. He just knows. It’s incredible. He’ll run you a bath and order cake to indulge yourself in before you even get home.

R omance - How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?

The most sickley, fluffy, romantic, boyfriend that it makes me sick. Timothee would dye his hair rainbow and cut of his toes if it meant you would smile. On a more romantic note, he pulls out all the stops but it’s a bit more subtle?? Like he is very romantic but it’s not overwhelming. There’s no string quartet and private dining room but there will be jazz and dancing at midnight or a homemade “restaurant” with Timothee as a one man (messy) staff but it’s the best thing you could have ever come home to

S upport - Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?

He’s your head cheerleader and the most selfless human ever. Will cheer for you until his voice goes mute and even then, he’s the one clapping the loudest and crying the most. 

T hrill - Do they need to try out new things to spice out your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?

both! Timothee is like a dog in some ways. He’s energetic and needs new things, to be outside, to be social. But he craves hugs and cuddling, he adores late night talks with you or watching you make him breakfast while he scrolls through Instagram. Like I said, a very domestic guy.

U nderstanding - How good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?

He know’s you like the back of his hand and he could spot you with his eyes closed and only by feeling your face. He knows your habits, and the food you hate, your terrible cooking skills, and the kind of dad jokes you tell, the anxiety ticks, and what shows you’ll watch over and over again.

V alue - How important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?

He’d go insane without you. You’re addictive because you have a pure heart and a dirty mind and he falls in love the more you show that. He brings you back the weirdest things that remind him of you. Stationary cards with odd quotes, an antique necklace from the 40′s, peach earrings (because he enables your teasing)

W ild Card - A random Fluff Headcanon.

He’s like the real version of “JOEY DOESN’T SHARE FOOD” but a little more loving lol “I love you, but I’m willing to defend my fries”

X OXO - Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?

I said that he’s like a puppy! he needs kisses and scratches to his head (free scalp massage) and he’s a clingy puppy too. i mean, look at his eyes for the love of god. 

Y earning - How will they cope when they’re missing their partner?

he aches so bad. He is your cheerleader but he can’t function without you. You’re his cup of coffee, an antidepressant. He’s fangirling inside for your new project but when he sees your mug or reaches to bring you close to his chest and you’re not there, he’s unable to fall asleep or make a cup of coffee.

Z eal - Are they willing to go to great lengths for the relationship? If so, what kind of?

He’d travel to Mars and back if you asked him to. Just ask him, and he does it. One time, he was working on a movie with an actress who was quite snippy to you and he quit immediately, feeling incredibly guilty and nauseous. He got you very  expensive lox and bagels one morning because you were whining about it the previous night. He doesn’t want to close his eyes at night because there’s so many things he wants to do before he goes on to the next day. But when he closes his eyes at night, it’s all you, you, you, you, you and how much he’s overwhelmed with total adoration for you

[cacoetheswriting]

nsfw alphabet - berlin

A/N: (request): The title says it all so a smut warning is in place.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex?)

Believe it or not Berlin, or should you say Andrés, is quite affectionate after sex. He’ll press his body closely against yours and place intimate soft kisses across your collarbone. He’ll ask if you enjoyed yourself, if you need anything. However  most of all he likes to listen to you whispering words of affirmation. Knowing how much he means to you makes Berlin feel better about himself.

B = Body Part (their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Berlin’s favourite body part of yours is most definitely your ass. He loves how it looks in jeans, skirts, that red jumpsuit, but most of all he likes it bare. He’ll grab, caress, clasp and knead the flesh when you’re having sex - smack it when he can, even in public. 

When it comes to himself however he doesn't have a favourite body part per-say - anything he can use to pleasure you really. 

C = Cum (anything to do with cum basically)

He loves to come inside of you, of course. His cock pumping deep until he explodes and the white extract drips slowly down your thigh mixing with your own wetness. Although what he enjoys most of all is erupting in your mouth. Sometimes when he feels his own climax nearing he’ll pull out of your dripping pussy, climb up to straddle your face and plunge his wet hard-on into your mouth. It doesn't take long for the first shot of his cum to blast against the back of your throat - the gooey soo coating your tongue, filling your mouth completely and eventually being forced out between your lips. 

D = Dirty Secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Berlin secretly enjoys watching other people hit on you. There is something about the way you react, casually flirting back just to see if he'd get jealous, that gets his motor running. Of course he uses that drive to punish you for such flirtations the second he gets you alone.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

To say he's experienced would be an understatement, however, his sexual maturity is not what makes him so skilled at pleasuring you. Berlin took his time exploring your likes and dislikes in bed very early into your relationship. He can read your body like a map, knows where you’re most delicate and exactly what buttons to press to get you going. 

F = Favourite Position (this goes without saying)

As much as he revels in power play and taking charge in bed, there is something about the cowgirl position that Berlin cannot say no to. He loves the feeling of you kneeling on top and pushing off his chest as you slide up and down. His hands exploring your body freely, groping your ass, fingers pulling on your nipples. Not to mention how incredibly hot you look. 

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc.)

Definitely more on the serious side. He’ll tease you to assert power and make the infrequent dirty joke however overall Berlin is more somber when you’re in bed and focused on making you feel good rather than making you laugh. 

H = Hair (how well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

He doesn’t really care about what he looks like down there. Occasionally he will clean himself up but it’s very rare. Not that you complain; in your opinion it makes him look more manly. 

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

Berlin is not the romantic type. He enjoys being close to you and will shower you with affection but after sex rather than during.

J = Jack Off (masturbation headcanon)

He is not ashamed to admit he jacks off frequently; it is human nature after all. What he prefers though is to masturbate with you - usually as a form of foreplay. He’ll order you to pleasure yourself and watch you intensively and pumping his hard cock while you rub your clit. 

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

The dark haired thief very much has a BDSM kink. He doesn't get to act on it often but when he does, well it is safe to say you have trouble walking the next day.

L = Location (favourite places to do the do)

Anywhere and everywhere - you don't even have to be alone as long as you can be discreet. The mere thought of your naked body rubbing against his is enough to get him going, and once he’s turned on he simply must have you. It doesn't matter where you are; or who's around.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

A better question would be what doesn't get him going. Berlin gets turned on just by looking at you. There have been times even where he’d be looking at an object such as a table and his mind would wonder - how he’d love to bend you over that and have his way. 

N = NO (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Even though he doesn't mind other people flirting with you, a big no no is sharing you with anyone. You are his and his alone therefore threesomes or group sex is definitely off the table. 

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc,)

Receiving - and damn are you good at that. He loves looking down at you as your sweet lips are wrapped around his erect member. The sensation he gets as your tongue slides over his cock while you suck on the head. 

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

He likes to pound you asserting dominance and power. Fingertips digging into your waist, his mouth kissing yours, he enjoys fucking you fast barely giving you a chance to breathe. Although when he wants to he can go slow, mainly to tease you are quite simply admire your beauty. 

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

It would be safe to say that he prefers quickies to conventional sex. He revels in the fact he can have you whenever he wants to; fuck you shamelessly leaving you breathless, legs quaking. Of course if the two of you have more time to spare he’ll pleasure you slowly, properly. Taking you bit by bit.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

As long as what he wants to try is okay with you, anything is fair game. He would never do anything to hurt you purposefully or make you uncomfortable therefore even though he is the dominant in your relationship, you need to approve whatever it is he’d like to do to you. 

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

Usually one or two, maybe even three - depending how long and taxing each round is. 

T = Toy (do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

He is a proud owner of a few toys from various vibrators, handcuffs, spanking paddles, and even nipple clamps. He doesn't use them often, but when he does he makes you feel things you have never felt before. His favourite little toy to use on you is a remote controlled vibrator - pretty self explanatory. 

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Berlin is quite the tease although no bigger than you. In your relationship, you are the one that acts like a brat, petering and tormenting him. You know exactly which buttons to push to turn him on to the point of no return. 

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make)

He’ll mainly talk dirty to you, whisper all of the things he’s going to do to you, call you ‘his slut��� because he knows how hot and bothered that gets you. 

W = Wild Card (random headcanon for the character)

Despite his brooding and dominant exterior, Andrés is tender and compassionate. He always puts you first. Your comfort and safety are of utmost importance to him. He’ll hold your hand, embrace you when you least expect it, and listen to everything you have to say. He’s a great listener.

X = X-Ray (let’s see what’s going on in those pants)

Perhaps the biggest you’ve been with. He’s quite thick, and stretches you out well hitting all of the right spots. 

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Remarkably high. It surprised you at first because you wouldn't have expected it from the older brooding thief but you’ve come to appreciate and definitely enjoy it. 

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He’ll wait for you to fall asleep first; like a true gentleman. Once your eyes are closed and he can hear your soft elegant snores, he’ll snuggle even closer to you taking in your scent and drift to sleep with you safely in his arms.

-

[kanmom51]

The members just fueled the sheep today by screaming when Tae and JK touched. What was that? Why did they feel that was cute to do? That was strange and odd, unless TK are dating. Either way, it was enough fuel to send them over the edge and now the are 100% convinced they're real and the members support them. Don't even get me started on the hate JM got today, accusing him of purposely ruining a TK moment and inserting himself. I no longer think Jikook are real after today cause of the members.

Ask 2/ I find the members screams when TK touched today pretty sus and Jimin's face, although he smiled, seems he was caught off guard and Tae sticking his tongue out to JK before it happened. If Jikook are dating, I feel that was pretty disrespectful. For members to encourage a flirty moment between two other members, if that said member is already in a relationship. Its the first time I have ever wondered about TK and that makes me feel so bad. Not because I have a problem with it, but because of JM.

Ask 3/ Whoever said Jinmin are dating are probably right. After today, there is no way Jikook are dating. The member would not yell and cheer on Tae/kook like that if they were in a relationship with someone else. Jin photobombed JM's selfie with a heart. And JM is struggling with TK lately and it shows. I think Jikook were very much dating and real, but this past year its not been the same. Saying JM is sexy does not equal dating, they all that. However JM getting pissy over TK says a lot. Jealous ex.

Ask 4/ People think something isn't off with Jikook, when JM has shown lately he is uncomfortable with Tae and JK getting close. At Muster JK puts his arm around Tae and JM purposely gets between them. Today Tae gets a little too close to JK and JM purposely makes a moment with Tae. JM is never jealous over JK unless Tae is involved. So that tells me JM is dating either JK or Tae and TK are getting a little to real for JM's liking. I personally don't think JM is dating JK anymore. I think it's Tae.

So, as you can see I have received a few asks on this subject. The new PTD dance practice clip released yesterday.

Let's start by seeing exactly what this 'moment' everyone is screaming about between JK&Tae that the other members were supposedly going crazy about.

First off, all the members seem to be really having a good time here. It seems like everyone is in a good mood and there are plenty of interactions between the members that have gone unnoticed, because everyone's eyes are on Vminkook.

Second, this is a 3 min. clip of a dance practice. This is most likely a one shot clip (not edited), but, and here is the big but, this isn't a one time practice. Meaning, the members weren't flown into the dance studio to do this one take, shoot it and leave. The members arrived at the studio, interacted, most likely rehearsed the dance several times before shooting this clip, if this was the first take, because it is also likely that there were a few takes of which they chose the one to upload.

What is the importance of this long winded explanation?

To explain that the members do not perform in a vacuum. That the interactions between them during these clips are not detached from everything that was going on prior to this take.

And again, why is this important?

Because when you look at that interaction between Tae&JK it's really absolutely NOTHING what so ever.

This is the point the cheers come in.

Now, as I see it those cheers can be one of two things:

Either something went on prior to this shot, maybe in the rehearsal or a previous shot that Tae putting his hand on JK's shoulder caused this reaction. Idk, maybe something they talked about or something one of those three did before, who knows.

Or, the members that are pretty hyped up, as I mentioned, they seem to be having a great time, were hyping up and enjoying this part of the choreo, the makne line doing their thing.

Either explanations are possible.

This isn't Tae being flirty. As a matter of fact, at this point neither Tae nor JK are being flirty.

JM, though, he is sure enjoying his view of JK.

As for JM's hand, that was a bit of an oopsy there, which he pretty much immediately fixed. No, he wasn't going for the bundle, he was going for the hip.

This isn't our first dance practice rodeo. We know they can go rogue during these practices, letting go, enjoying themselves, and this is what we have here too.

No dramas, no intrigues, nothing of that sort.

I will say this for the millionth time. BTS are human beings. I can't believe I actually spilled the beans here. Yes, they are people like you and me, well maybe not exactly like you and me, seeing they are multimillionaire idols, but you get the idea.

They are not fictional characters in a novel or a Telenovela or K-drama. These are real human beings with real human being feelings. And why do I have to keep repeating this?

Well, it seems some fans think that being in a band and famous makes you out to be promiscuous or able to change your partner/boyfriend like a pair of socks. Or that within a band of 7 members if there would be such change of guard (meaning them changing partners around) that they would continue to be on such good terms with each other or be able to even look at each other, let alone keep on working for so many years with each other.

If Vminkook were in this real K-drama love triangle there would be soooo many behaviours that would have to be explained away and that don't make any kind of sense.

Let's start by them all being friends and on good terms. In what universe would this be if two members in this triangle were fighting over the heart of the third? Either V & JK fighting for JM's heart or JK&JM fighting for V's heart or JM&V fighting for JK's heart?

Then we have Vmin's relationship. Declared soulmates. How would that fit in to this mess, especially if JM&V are supposedly after JK? Wouldn't there be a rivalry here, not a close intimate friendship?

And JK&JM being close and inseparable, how does that fit into the story line?

JM practically pushing JK to sit down and talk with V ITS - how does that fit in?

Them all being cheery, happy, smiley, lovey dovey with each other. How does that fit in?

And there is so much more there that just doesn't make sense if you are into this type of storyline.

If things have changed recently, as some of the asks claim. If JM & JK are over and now it's the time of JK & Tae, how is it that the dynamics between these three hasn't changed? That JM is still all smiley and happy towards Tae, who has supposedly hooked up with his ex? The same Tae that JM pushed JK to talk to during ITS?

You know, even if couples split up, there is residue. There are feelings left, good or bad (longing or anger or hate or sadness). There is never indifference, especially a long term relationship ending. So, if that is the case, if the couple has split, if a new relationship is budding, how is that one member in that triangle, be it JK or JM, so indifferent, accepting, happy & laughing and overall ok with what is going on?

When a long term relationship ends do you think moving on is something you do immediately? Especially with one of your ex's best friends?

JM, JK and Tae are not plastic characters in a soap opera. This isn't Brook or Ridge or Taylor that have been married and divorced so many times I lose count, moving back and forth between those relationships. That isn't real life. And JK/JM/Tae are real people living real lives.

So, believe what you may, that Taekook are real, or that Vmin are real or Jikook are real (you know where I stand on that). But don't flip flop between them or don't make up these illogical theories about them moving in between relationships. Beyond it being fictional it is disrespectful to all three of them.

This sums up this topic for now.  Any other asks sent about this clip or change in JM’s behaviour or Jikook breakup etc. will go unanswered.

[fanfoolishness]

in the long night (Hawke x Varric)

Written for @oneshallop and also up on AO3.  They requested Hawke and Varric on the Deep Roads expedition with some early hints of pining.  I hope it fits the bill!  2836 words, Hawke, Varric, Act 1 of DA2.

***

It was dark.

Varric almost roared with laughter at the thought.  Of course it was dark.  It was the Deep fucking Roads, wasn’t it?  

Sure, maybe in old dwarven tales these tunnels were supposed to be awash with red-gold, welcoming light, but every kid in Hightown’s dwarven quarter knew the Deep Roads had been overrun centuries ago.  There were still some intact corridors here and there where you could see the magma channels lighting the way as they’d been intended… but there were far more lonely and dangerous areas, where the magma had long ago been freed in cave-ins and cooled into just another kind of rock. Those corridors sat empty in the long-forgotten dark.

The thing was, though, it wasn’t pitch black, at least not where they’d set up camp for the night.  They had the torches and the campfire made of magelight to thank for that.  The orange-yellow of torchlight, the blue-white of mage-fire, they cast deep and disturbing shadows in the dark.  It disquieted him.  He almost wondered if it wouldn’t be better to let the lights go out, except that was complete crazy talk.

He hunkered down, trying to find a comfortable way to sit.  He could sit on this broken lump of rock, but then there was no back support.  Sit on the ground and that would take care of his back, but then his ass would start aching.  He decided on the floor, groaning under his breath.  

This lead of Bartrand’s better pan out , he thought sourly.  He cast a glance over his shoulder, where Bartrand and his crew had taken over most of the lower level.  Their torches lit the place up a little more, but the murmuring echoes of the mercs he’d hired were weird and distorted in the high open ceilings.  He tried to ignore the sound and the way it made his spine tingle.

A rustle at his side.  He nearly reached a hand toward Bianca, but this sound was familiar, somehow.  Safe.  He followed it to the source and saw the elder Hawke slipping out of her tent to tend to the fire, her hair mussed, her robes rumpled.  

“Trouble sleeping?” Varric asked.

A startled look crossed her face, followed by a shrug once she realized it was only him.  Shadows pooled along her cheekbones, dark semicircles cupping her keen eyes.  “I could ask the same of you.  Isn’t your bigshot brother paying for extra guards?  No need to keep watch, I thought.”

Varric chuckled, letting discomfiting thoughts about the long tunneling dark fade away.  This was a good distraction.  “You really think Bartrand managed to convince quality muscle to come along with us?  Oh, Hawke, he talks a big game, but I wouldn’t trust him farther than I can throw him.”

Her eyebrows leapt up somewhere in the vicinity of her hairline.  “You do realize this doesn’t exactly inspire confidence in the expedition.  Or in the Tethras name.”

Varric waved her protestation away.  “Bartrand not having an ounce of charm in his body is his problem.  I, fortunately, do not suffer from the same issue.  Ergo, I was able to find some decent people for this thing.  Such as yourself, partner.”

She let out one of those sharp-edged laughs he was beginning to know well.  “You do have quite the silver tongue, dwarf, I’ll give you that.”  She bent over the fire, concentrating.  It flared up before her, dancing bright blue-white against the shadows.

“Thanks,” said Varric.  

“I can’t stand it being so dark down here in the lower levels,” she said, leaning against a chunk of paving stone that had been torn from the main floor.  “It’s unnatural.”  Then she glanced at him.  “Er, I mean, for humans,” she said clumsily.

Varric held up his hands.  “Believe you me, Hawke, I’ll moan and complain about the Deep Roads as much as any human.  Dwarves get some things right, sure -- they know what they’re doing when it comes to smithing and bullshitting -- but living underground forever, it’ll never play right for me.”

“You were born on the surface, then?” Hawke asked curiously.  

“Born and raised,” said Varric.  “Family had a nasty fall from grace in Orzammar when Bartrand was a little kid.  They were forced to run from their fuckups down here up to the surface.  My dad died not long after I was born, and my mother never recovered from the move.  Not sure if Bartrand ever did, either.”  He gazed into the fire.  Silver-white sparks leapt from its flames.

“Oh,” said Hawke, first looking taken aback, then her face softening.  “I’m sorry -- I didn’t realize.”  She could be startlingly empathetic when she wanted to be, he’d noticed.

She sighed, shaking her head.  “Family.  Dreadfully inconvenient, aren’t they?”  Then again, she was just as likely to laugh the big stuff away, just another joke.  He liked that about her.  Liked it in himself, too.

He chuckled.  “You realize Carver is literally five feet away, right?”

She glanced over at her sleeping brother.  He’d said he felt claustrophobic, setting up a tent in a closed tunnel, and had instead opted to sleep out in the open.  She watched his chest rise and fall for a few beats.

“Carver’s different,” she said, “despite the way we fight.  It’s our fighting, right?  That’s the important bit.”  She flashed Varric a too-tight grin.

Varric thought of Bartrand, all family name and getting ahead, all Brother, you have to take this seriously or they’ll eat you alive.   He thought of just how often he’d been an absolute shit of a little brother, and how much Bartrand had really deserved it (completely, most of the time).

“There’s something to that, I suppose,” he said cautiously.  “But Bartrand really is an ass.”

“So’s Carver,” Hawke laughed in that bright, airy way of hers.  For a moment, though, her face slipped into genuine fondness. “That’s part of his charm.”

Varric snorted.  “That’s one word for it.”

“Hey, hey, hey,” said Hawke in mock-offended tones.  “As the eldest sibling, I’m the only one permitted to say such dreadful things about my own brother.  Which I have before, and which I’ll do again, thank you very much.”

Varric shifted positions, sitting up on top of his chunk of rock, seeing if that would help his aching back.  Eh.  Not much difference.  

A thought struck him, one he knew he shouldn’t say.  You never talk about the other twin that way.   But that was something private, wasn’t it, something he’d only gleaned from weeks of dropped references in casual conversation with the Hawke siblings.  At first he’d wondered if Bethany was a cousin back in Fereldan; a distant relative long-forgotten.  It’d taken an overheard conversation between Hawke and her mother for Varric to figure it out, and an aside with Aveline, plied with more than a little ale, to confirm it..  

He stuffed the information back down, watching the firelight flicker in her eyes.  If she wanted to tell him about Bethany, she’d do it, and it didn’t gain him any advantage anyway, knowing the blow she and Carver had suffered.  He held his tongue.

“You’ve gone quiet,” she observed.  “You never did say what you were doing out here.  Something nefarious, I’m certain.”

“Oh, you know me,” said Varric loftily.  “I’m just here for the scenery.”

Hawke giggled, loudly enough that Carter grumbled and rolled over before lapsing into a loud snore.  She stifled her laugh, just barely.

“Ah, yes.  Creepy empty caverns, moldering ruins, the endless dark.  You really know how to show a girl a good time,” she teased.

He shivered.  Or was he blushing?  He wasn’t sure.  Something squirmed in the pit of his stomach.

“Where better than the ass end of Thedas for a little romance?” he asked, in a voice that felt a good deal less smooth than he’d meant it.

Hawke wiped a tear away.  “This is why I like traveling with you.  You’re right.  If Bartrand had been doing the talking, Carver and I would never have thrown in our lot with you.”  She let out a long breath.  “Ah, thanks for that.  I’ve been feeling rather uneasy down here, to be honest.  A good laugh’s a bit of a relief.”

“Varric Tethras, at your service,” he said cheerfully.  Funny, though, that little bit of disappointment threading through his words.  Why was he thinking of Bianca now?  He shook his head.  “Well, Hawke, you’re not the only one with the creeps down here.  I thought maybe keeping an eye on camp would make things feel more normal, but turns out the place is damn spooky no matter where you sit.”

She nodded.  “I could see my fire fading through the gap in the front of my tent.  Didn’t feel right to let it go out.  So I’m keeping an eye on it, for now at least.”

“Seems like you’re getting better at them to me,” said Varric.  He didn’t know much about magic, but he’d long noticed that Anders was the one running around throwing fireballs while Hawke was much more likely to somehow conjure up a miniature earthquake.  

“That’s sweet of you to say,” said Hawke. “Anders is much better at elemental magic than I am, but since he’s still up surface-side, I figured now was a good time to practice.  It wasn’t my father’s strength, either, as far as I know.  Or maybe he thought it’d be harder to hide fireball lessons out back of our farm.”  She shrugged.  “But I’m learning things, much as I can with the Chantry breathing down my neck.”

“Maybe it’s for the best Anders isn’t here.  I gather he’s spent way more time in the Deep Roads than any sane person would ever want to,” said Varric.  He could just hear Blondie’s complaints starting up in the back of his mind.

“It’s one reason why I didn’t ask him to come with us,” said Hawke cheerily.  “Felt sorry for the poor fellow.  I’m sure he’s enjoying the sunshine from Darktown.  ...come to think of it, it’s not that far off from being down here, is it?”

Varric laughed.  “Good point.  Though sometimes I swear you can see the sun through holes in the walls there… and it smells better here.”

“Do you miss it?  Not Darktown, obviously.  Kirkwall,” said Hawke.  “It’s been… what, a good three weeks now?  It’s the longest I’ve seen you away from the city.”

Varric considered.  He’d gone on long journeys before, been away from Kirkwall for weeks, even occasionally, months at a time on Guild business, especially after their mother died.  Bianca flitted through his thoughts again, Bianca and intrigue and furtive meetings in shitty towns.  But none of that felt right to bring up here, not to Hawke with the fire’s reflection in her darkened eyes.  

“I miss the Hanged Man,” he said honestly.  “Every time I try to lay down for bed here, I just think back to my bed back in the inn, and think ‘Tethras!  You’ve gone insane.’”  

“Ugh, you and me both,” said Hawke.  “I think I’ve got bruises on bruises from all these rocks.  Hopefully we’re not down here too much longer.”

“We can always dream,” said Varric, but the words felt hollow in the dark, and he drew his coat closer around himself.

Hawke nodded, but she seemed pensive.  “I suppose,” she said.  She shifted, sinking deeper into her robes.  “Hmph.  Well, as long as we aren’t sleeping, care to join me in a snack?”

“Depends,” he said cautiously.  He’d had her cooking before.  Carver’s was far and away the better meal.  

“I’ve been saving these.  For a special occasion, as it were.”  She rummaged in the pack beside her.  “I figured the special occasion would be for when I absolutely couldn’t tolerate another bite of Lowtown hardtack, but what d’you know, sharing it with a friend sounds all right, too.”

“You actually have something good in there?” Varric asked in surprise.  The perishable stuff had all gone a few days ago, and he’d started his grumbling about the salted pork that morning, right on cue.  

Hawke pulled free a waxed paper bundle, tightly wrapped.  “I may have tried a spell of stasis on these,” she said.  “I’m still working on the technique, but I think I’ve got it down for little things like this.”  She unwrapped the bundle and a tiny flash of light dissipated from the contents, the spell breaking at its maker’s touch.

“Chocolate almond biscuits, from Camille’s in Hightown,” she whispered, looking downright conspiratorial.  “It was the end of the night, that last night in Kirkwall.  The bakery was just about to close, but I saw them packing these up off the cart outside.  The baker’s girl told me they were getting a bit stale, but did I want to buy them anyway, half price?  Carver ate his straight away -- didn’t see the point in them getting staler -- but I wanted to save them.  Don’t know why.”  

Two biscuits sat in their waxed wrapping, delicate golden squares worked with scrolled lustrous chocolate, stamped with the Kirkwall crest.  He’d passed them up a hundred times, sweet sugary nonsense meant for nobles with more money than sense.  Bartrand would have scoffed.  But they smelled amazing.

“Aw, come on, Hawke,” tried Varric.  “They’re yours.  You should have them.”

“A good biscuit’s better shared, or at least it’s what my father used to say.  Probably so as to keep his children from fighting amongst themselves for the last one, but it’s a nice sentiment regardless,” said Hawke.  She shoved the biscuits at him.  “Go on, then.”

“All right, all right.  If you insist.  Only because you’re a powerful mage and I don’t want to get on your bad side.”  He reached out and took the top biscuit. It was a solid thing, sturdy in the hand.  The chocolate beneath his thumb tip began to melt, soft and silky against his skin.

“Cheers, Varric.”  Hawke took up the other biscuit and nudged it against his, then took a bite.  “Mmm,” she hummed, closing her eyes.  “Just as I’d hoped it would be.”

Varric bit into his biscuit.  It snapped satisfyingly against his teeth.  He tasted buttery almonds first, then a deep, complex sweetness tempered by smooth bitter chocolate.  He paused, savoring it.  “Damn.  No wonder they charge an arm and a leg for these.”

“Worth every copper,” Hawke agreed, a silly grin spreading over her face as she finished her biscuit.  Varric finished his a moment later, regretfully licking the last of the chocolate from his fingertips.

“Thanks, Hawke.  You didn’t have to do that.”

“Oh, I know,” she said, her eyes twinkling.  

The fire rolled and flared, almost a living thing, fighting against the shadows.  He half thought he could see a pattern to it, a heartbeat, a touch of Hawke herself within the flames.

Silence grew between them, a comfortable, familiar thing like the weight of a good blanket.  Or the taste of secret chocolate in the dark.  It felt good, until it was broken by a yawn Hawke tried to hide.  

“You should get some rest,” Varric said softly.  “The fire’s a good one, Hawke.  You don’t need to worry.”

“Hmm, but I worry all the time,” she chuckled, yawning again.  “But don’t tell anyone.  It’s a secret.”

He felt a pang, though he wasn’t sure why.  “Dwarf’s honor,” said Varric.  “Assuming you put stock in such things.”

“In yours?  Of course I do,” she said.  She gave him a tired smile.  “All right, then.  I’ll get some sleep if you promise to do the same.  It wouldn’t do for us to be too tired to carry back our fabulous treasure.”

“Imagine if we’d have to leave it behind due to exhaustion.  It’d be a crying shame.  We’d never live it down,” said Varric.  “All right, you’ve convinced me.”  

He got to his feet, his back and ass aching as predicted.  He reached out a hand to Hawke and she gripped it, hard, her calloused hand small but steely against his own as he helped her up.  “Thanks, Varric.”

“No problem.  See you in the morning, Hawke,” he said.

“If you can call it that,” she said.  “But I’ll see you then.”  She slipped back into her tent, and Varric returned to his.

He stretched out on his bedroll, staring up at the ceiling.  The blue magelight -- Hawke’s light -- seeped in through the cracks of his tent flaps.  He watched its delicate choreography through drowsy eyes.

They had this.  He knew it now in his bones.  Bartrand had his team and his map, and that was all well and good, but Varric had Hawke and her people, and he’d put the money on them every time.  No matter what they found on this crazy expedition, they’d be ready.

He smiled tiredly.  Yeah.  He had Hawke.

The tent was still and quiet.  His eyes fell shut; his breathing slowed.  He drifted off to sleep in the long night of the Deep Roads, still tasting chocolate.

[yukiobeyme]

Would you be willing to do one of the NSFW alphabet headcannons for Beel? I just read your Levi one and it was good 💓

NSFW under the cut! Thank you for the request <3

Beelzebub NSFW Alphabet

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Didn’t really know what aftercare was, just figured it was staying together and sleeping. You end up bringing up your needs or the idea of aftercare. Beelzebub then makes sure to keep extra snacks and drink for you; he even goes as far as finding the electrolyte drinks to make sure you stay hydrated.

He also adores giving you soft kisses on your back and shoulders, holding you close to him.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He loves his hands, Beelzebub is huge for a demon but compared to a human, even of average or above-average size, he is massive. He absolutely marvels at the sheer difference between the sizes.

He loves your mouth; he loves how your mouth makes him feel. But he also loves your hands and how small they are compared to his dick. He honestly overall loves everything about you, especially when it’s on him.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

The first time you swallowed his cum, he was beyond shocked and turned on again. He let out a groan when he felt his dick twitch interested in the scene that was in front of him. If he ever comes on your chest you should expect him to finger feed you his cum until you are clean.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

It’s not necessarily dirty but it’s probably one of the secrets he has kept from you. He likes how much bigger he is than you, he also knows the pure power he has over you as someone so much bigger as you and as a demon. But it’s something inside him snaps when you take charge and control. Something about seeing you smaller and weaker body on top of him, he is completely submissive and is practically putty in your hands.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Is surprisingly experienced? He is by no means easy but promises of breakfast in the morning definitely motivates him to give his best performance. But it’s only a handful of partners but treats every time as his first time. Not necessarily in a clumsy/awkward way but more in the sense of teasing and casually touching you, making sure you are doing okay before he completely devours you.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Missionary, he is a simple demon and he loves the closeness of it. Sure he is down for you to top him or even occasionally take you from behind, but something about watching you fall apart under him drives him wild.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Can be pretty goofy, sex is weird and awkward sometimes. And sometimes weird noises are made and he constantly reassuring you that it’s all good. But he also just loves your laugh and smile and bringing them behind closed doors and to an intimate moment just drives him wild. Very rarely is it super serious, those are reserved for times when you need to be reminded of how loved and precious you are.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

The carpets do match the drapes, he is naturally not very hairy but he is well-groomed, something about his wrestling outfit. Out of season, it’s a toss-up, It is either well-groomed for a bit but he’ll let it grow for a while, getting annoyed at the length and then the cycle starts all over again.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Is more on the romantic aspect, there is always a date or something beforehand. He tries to woo and seduce you every time. Makes sure to worship you and praise your body. You would be covered with his kisses and love before being wrapped tightly in his arms.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Doesn’t jack off often, after meeting you, he would have more urges for sure. But Beel used to having food turning him on, so for you to turn him on he was equal parts confused and curious. After getting in a relationship he rather just message you he is hungry for you rather than food and forgoes jacking off alone.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Food Kink

It was your idea to bring food to the equation and Beel was more than eager to participate. Whip cream and strawberries are his favorites but there something about licking chocolate off you is amazing too. Likes to be one that gets to eat but will occasionally be allowed to be eaten off of.

Size Kink

It’s just something about how much bigger his is than you. How he can corner you and just tower over you. Your hand is so tiny in his and it drives him up the wall. While he isn’t into power play, he thinks his size kink influences his thoughts about how you could easily break when he towers over you. He also enjoys how much he can touch of you at once.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Your room, he doesn’t want to risk having Belphie ruining the moment. Though your room isn’t much safer. Occasionally the shower/bath and there was even a wild incident in a random closet at RAD.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

You. Purely seeing you and seeing you react to him and how he moves. Its intoxicating and makes him hungry in other ways. He is being honest when he wants to devour you. Teasing is always a good thing to get him going especially when you try to eat the most sexual foods innocently. Praising and moaning over the taste, he tells you he is the only one that can make you sound like that.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Anything that can be considered dangerous and isn’t into BDSM. He just won’t do it, anything he is iffy on takes a lot of time and communication before he would consider it.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Giving all the way, he takes eating you out to a whole other level. You know that recent video of the Hawaiian Papaya eating contest? That’s how he eats you out, he constantly going down only coming up when he needs air before diving start back in with enthusiasm.  

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Slow and sensual all the way. Very rarely is he fast and rough, only times when he thinks he was going to lost you or if you spent the whole day working him up. He rarely desperate enough to want it fast and rough, He thoroughly enjoys slowly take you apart. Starting with kissing all over you, ignoring your sensitive areas. Before he finds his way to your thighs, where he will nip and bit. Your hands will be threaded in his hair and voice hoarse with pleading with him to touch you before he finally gives in.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Doesn’t haven’t often, he just doesn’t like being quick with you. He wants to take you apart piece by piece. He doesn’t want you leaving him without feeling worn out but most important he doesn’t want left to feel unloved.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

With you he is willing to experiment, it makes it more fun. He is never too serious so any idea you have he won't shoot down and is willing to figuring it how to make it come true.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He can go 3-4 rounds; he considers rounds the amount of time you get off. He usually cums twice maybe a third time depending on the day. The first round is always focused on you feeling good without penetration, then focused on both of you with penetration, and the third is working you through another orgasm after you already felt spent. If you are up for another round, it a very slow and sinful round. Beel lasts way too long for your liking if that is even possible but he somehow manages his lust and desire perfectly.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Isn’t the biggest fan of using toys, unless if you express you would like to use toys, he wouldn’t even think about it. Doesn’t own any toys. Though he was a fan when you suggested edible lingerie

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Is very unfair and what makes it so unfair is he doesn’t mean to be. He just enjoys making you feel good and you spend all day worshipping your body. He loves all the noises you make, and it only encourages him, the amount of times you have been close to tears due to his teasing is unreal. You learned that tugging at his hair can usually get him to move on from the teasing but some days it seems like he wants to tease and work you up.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Isn’t very loud, he likes to only make noise when he is beside your ear. So you know exactly what noises you pull from him. Whenever he is receiving pleasure it isn’t a surprise to see him biting his lip or have a hand over his mouth to try and quiet himself.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

It took a long time before you were able to talk Beel into letting you wear a gag ball. He just hates not being able to hear you or communicate with you. But then again there was something seeing your mouth stretched around a red ball, like a roast pig, that sparked a fire instead of him. The sex was rough and desperate, as you had drool at the corner of your mouths and tears threaten to leak from your eyes.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Is HUNG, like damn. Like to the point, it is intimidating that first time you see it, but if you were to be split open… what a way to go. He knows he is huge too and makes sure to always be gentle and never pushes you or your body. The first time you saw it, or rather an outline was during a wrestling match and you were distracted and concern.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Is average for a demon, maybe a tad below average. But he would never turn down sex with you, especially because of the soft and intimate moments with you in the afterglow.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He isn’t going to sleep until he eats to restore his stamina and most times it’s a food coma that will knock him out after sex. But he always brings you water and some food too, encouraging you to at least eat something before he will pull you onto his chest.

[palmtreepalmtree]

Hey everyone!  I am pleased to present the first holiday edition of...

The Worst Movie on Netflix Right Now™!

Today we’re going to talk about the first Netflix holiday release, Holidate.

Deep sigh.

OYEZ, OYEZ.  NOW COMES BEFORE THE COURT THE CASE OF PALMTREEPALMTREE V. NETFLIX.

NETFLIX PRESENTS FOR CONSIDERATION IN THE HOLIDAY ROMANCE GENRE THE NETFLIX FILM KNOWN AS HOLIDATE (HENCEFORTH ”THE FILM”).  THE FILM IS CHARGED WITH UNNECESSARY ADULT LANGUAGE, POOR CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT, CRUELTY TO SINGLE PEOPLE, AND NEGLIGENT TREATMENT OF SERIOUS FIREWORK INJURIES.

PALMTREEPALMTREE, PLEASE PRESENT YOUR CASE.

Thank you, your honors and friends and gentlepeople of the jury.  Today we consider a film known as Holidate and whether it’s worthy of our collective viewing.  Let’s cut right to the chase here.  It is not worthy of our time.

Let me break this one down for you:

THE PREMISE

The premise of The Film is pretty much the only thing that’s not bad about it.  A young woman, tired of feeling uncomfortable as the only single person at family get-togethers, makes a pact with a handsome man that she randomly met at the mall to be each others’ so-called holidates.  They basically agree to attend whatever events need attending on the holidays with zero romantic expectations.

As a premise for a rom-com, this is totally sound.  We’ve arranged for our two heroes to spend quality time together that will eventually lead to them falling in love, right?  Right.  

So where does this go wrong?

UNNECESSARY ADULT LANGUAGE

The Film kicks right off with a mature rating.  It really wants you to know it’s mature.  In fact, this is the first line of the movie:

She promptly extinguishes that cigarette on the head of a light-up Santa Claus. You might immediately think, OH HAHA FUNNY.  But no, it’s not.  Take it from an expert.  Cursing for cursing’s sake is not funny.  It’s true that the word ‘fuck’ may have a funny fucking rhythm to it, but the word alone is not a fucking joke.  It’s not inherently funny to say ‘FUCK.’  Also, ‘pussy,’ ‘slut,’ and ‘clitoris.’  Not funny when you’re just working it into a sentence for no purpose.

It’s like this movie wants to be the Bad Santa of holiday rom-coms.  But who the fuck asked for that?  This movie is like the girl who claims she’s ‘not like other girls.’  This movie is the girl who ‘doesn’t know why, but only has guy friends.’   This is the ‘girl who listens to the Joe Rogan podcast’ of rom-coms.  None of these things fucking exist.  But this movie sure is trying.

POOR CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT

Listen, I’m not saying that all women in the world have friends.  But most women in the world (especially pre-long-term partnership) have some sort of friend group.  Even if it’s long distance or online or something.  But the main character here, played by Emma Roberts, appears to have no one.  Just her consistently abusive family members (more on that later).  

The premise of this movie quickly morphs from “I need a date to bring to my family events,” to “I need a date for every holiday on the calendar including ones that don’t involve my family.”  Why does she want to hang out with this rando on St. Patrick’s Day?  Cinco de Mayo?  Halloween?  WHERE ARE HER FUCKING FRIENDS?

There are no friends in sight.  This would be more believable if the script even hinted that she had friends.  Like maybe she’s tired of third-wheeling it with her couple friends while she tries to find dates of her own?  Or maybe she’s super emotionally wrecked from her last guy (even though she only dated him for a few months!?!?!?)  But no.  Instead, she spends the better part of the year of this movie going out with this fucking placeholder instead of trying to meet people or having fun with her actual fucking friends.  

Her personality is just a general sketch of habits: eats junk food, smokes and lies about it, works from home, enjoys pajama pants, etc.  We know nothing about her otherwise.  At least she’s not clumsy.

If it seems weird that I haven’t mentioned the male lead that’s because he’s fucking boring and I don’t really give a shit about him.  He’s oatmeal.  

CRUELTY TO SINGLE PEOPLE

I honestly can’t believe I have to say this, but if you’re going to make a rom-com that people can relate to maybe you should not spend the entire film showing contempt towards single people?  Actual lines from the movie:

[with shock horror] “What do you mean, you don’t have a date for Valentine’s Day!?”

“She’s going to die alone in a wheelchair and a diaper.”

“Human beings aren’t meant to be alone on the holidays.”

“She doesn’t need another friend she needs a husband.  A partner.  Someone legally bound to be there during the chemo.”

The main character’s single status is treated by everyone as sad, pathetic, something that needs to change as soon as humanly possible.  They are aggressively cruel to her about her single status.  Her mother says things to her like, “I care about you.”  And characters are always observing that she seems sad.  I can credit the Film with these expressions coming out of a sincere place.  But because it simultaneously always plays those moments for laughs, there’s an element of meanness to it.  

“YOU SEEM SO SAD, HAHAHA!!!!”

Look, I’m not saying the movie doesn’t have a point.  I think human connection is really important.  Caring for other people and having people who care about you is important.  But this movie and all of its characters treat romantic relationships as if they are the only type of relationship worth pursuing.  What if this movie ended with them just being friends?  Would that have been so bad?

Also, nearly all of the other romantic relationships in this movie are a fucking disaster --- and again, they are played for laughs.  The main character’s sister is trapped in a marriage where she and her husband are living separate lives with different priorities and values; her brother has gotten engaged to a woman after three months of dating who HAHA he doesn’t even seem to know very well; and her mom is single and maybe possibly is projecting her own fears and loneliness even though that’s never actually acknowledged in any way?  

I don’t know guys, but I think a rom-com should leave you feeling optimistic about love.  I mean, what the fuck else is the point?

NEGLIGENT TREATMENT OF SERIOUS FIREWORK INJURIES

Look, I don’t want to get into the weeds here, but in the pursuit of cheap laughs, this movie absurdly treats some pretty serious injuries lightly and it’s weird and it doesn’t work and I honestly don’t know why this movie is what it is.  It should be called Holidate: a movie in search of a tone.  

CLOSING ARGUMENTS

A good rom-com requires several things to be truly successful: 1) a fun, engaging premise; 2) believable characters that you care about and want to end up together; and 3) a good feeling at the end that leaves you optimistic and warm and fuzzy.  This movie may succeed in being occasionally funny (I guess, if that’s your sort of thing, it’s not mine, I just thought it was weird and gross, and I don’t fucking know), but it fails on 2/3 of those requirements.  

Not to mention, WHAT A FUCKING WASTE OF KRISTIN CHENOWETH.  

In conclusion, your honor and gentlepeople of the jury:

THIS MOVIE IS A FUCKING MESS AND IT SHOULD LEAVE SINGLE PEOPLE ALONE.  

[the-moon-prince]

The Last Of us~Kurapika x Reader ~Chapter IV

AN: Hi my lovely fellows!

A new chapter! I tried my best to develop further the self insert character and clarify more its backstory and clan! I have somethings planned I hope you’ll enjoy. Thank you so much for all you support and I thank you for reading!

I wish you a pleasant read, and I hope you’ll enjoy the new chapter of my story.  (Chapter I) (Chapter II) (Chapter III) (Chapter V  soon!)

Paring: Kurapika Kurta x GN! Reader

Word count: 2 307

TW: None!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Everything in life has a continuation. Kurapika and (Y/n)'s relationship is also subject to this law. An undeniable detail was that the lives of both subjects were terribly busy and loaded. Notably, the activities that Kurapika was involved in were lightened. (Y/n) held their word to assist him in his cause, as their work turned out to be advantageous. Primarily when it came to retrieving scarlet eyes. Kurapika even recovered two more pairs not long after by the dint of their research.

Another point in common was that the two were- Or at least when they wanted- very organized. The majority of encounters took place after they departed their jobs with the Nostrade. Consisting most frequently in small walks in nearby parks, have coffee or read together. Accommodating conversations that permitted them to know each other.

"What is the reason behind your decision to study psychiatry?" It occurred to Kurapika to bid during a walk. The situation was atypical; people with profitable prior careers didn't take the Hunter exam, not to mention how extremely young (Y/n) was, being just a year younger than him. But knowing the introversion of his partner, he decided to go little by little.

"My grandad was one. I aspired to be similar to him.

He had a treasury full of medicine and psychiatry titles I loved to read, I also sneaked into his conversations on the subject!" -(Y/n) gloated, with a tiny rocking and a smile.-"I find the functioning of the brain stimulating! And I like to help, it makes me feel useful. One of his acquaintances invited me to be his apprentice several times ago. I just accepted." 

It was not rare for them to get together in the same room for each to work on their matters. They spent time in each other's presence. It was what mattered to them. 

~

In the beginning, (Y / n) was the one that expressed questions the most. Especially details that many would judge insignificant.-"What is your preferred flavor of ice cream?" "Your favorite color? Mine is (Fav .color)" What musical genre do you prefer? I like (Fav. genre), I'm particularly a David Bowie fan." The answers to those questions were vanilla, light gray, and jazz. (Y/n) liked to accumulate all the possible details about Kurapika. More than once he was surprised that the (hair/colored) remembered, like what candy he preferred from the local store, that he liked his water slightly cooler than room-temperature or they reminded him to take a break from using his contact lenses. (Y/n) was also very vocal, consciously or not, with what they liked about Kurapika. They made him blush more than once with "you look pretty today", "you are kind, thank you" or "I love your eyes, they are blue dog's eyes". He had no clue what the latter meant or where were their origins, but (Y/n) said it so lovingly that he couldn't help feeling like it was the greatest of compliments.

Kurapika relied most on studying (Y/n) body language to approach them. He soon realized that while their face was not very expressive, the rest of their body tended to be. When they were waiting for something that excited them, they tapped the table with their long nails. They used to hold the door for the person behind them and him. And the two things that Kurapika found the most adorable of all, they tilted their head when they thought of something and flapped their hands when they were excited-even if they tried to suppress it on occasions. Something that Kurapika was not anticipating at all, particularly considering its dexterity and exactness from the time they fought, was (Y/n) clumsiness. They took bad or silly postures and never tied their shoes- Kurapika suspected them to not know how-.

He loved to tease (Y/n) with it. Expressly when they caught a light pole in the road, for not paying attention while they talked.

(Y/n) reminded him so much of Pairo, shy, a tad playful, and caring.

Pairo...

He would have liked to meet Yorknew. Observe everything Kurapika had seen. He sure would have liked the cinnamon rolls and the city lights. It was cruel and wicked. 

"Kurapika"- a quiet voice took him away from his thoughts. His head stung.

"Here's your tea, sunshine"-(Y/n) placed a cup full of steaming cinnamon tea in front of him, and proceeded to sit down.-"Are you fine?"

"Yes, I was just... just thinking."- Kurapika mumbled and looked at his cup.

 "I see. It is not wrong to miss someone. It simply signifies you love them, and they're important to you."-They mumbled, also looking down at the tea, as if they were capable of reading his mind. They certainly didn't read minds. Just missed someone too.-"If we don't remember them no one else will."- (Y/n) muttered as if the statement was also for them. They wanted nothing more than to comfort him. In one effort they dubiously lifted their hand and started to gently rub his back.

Kurapika turned to see them.-"You call me sunshine now?" He wanted to tease them. It didn't work.

(Y/n) nooned with pride.-"Because of your hair, the color evokes a ray of sunshine. Without sunlight, the flowers do not grow, therefore it is important. You are valuable to me."-Completely overlooking the other man's intentions. Kurapika covered his face with his hands and started laughing. He felt better.

"You are sickly sweet!"- he exclaimed, shaking his head. 

"I am. And you're sneakier than you seem." (Y/n) similarly joked. They rested their heads on the hand, drinking tea. They maybe were sappy, but in the end, Kurapika loved it. He had someone to comfort him and with whom he could play. How he had missed this!

"Your piano is nearly the only furniture you have in your living room, and I haven't seen you play it yet."-continued taking a sip of his tea. He didn't know if (Y/n) played the piano, but they certainly prepared good tea.

"I am not very skilled. I am incapable of composing anything, and I haven't played for a long time. I was taught how to play some melodies, and that's what I play."

"May I see?"-Kurapika requested, for (Y/n) to approach the grand piano. They opened the tone's cover and he started to play. Sol-Fa Re Si-Fa Re Si ( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f81rM4BKODw ). It sounded like a child's song, sweet and simple.

"My grandad was better. Verily, the instruments make me nostalgic, I have them essentially for that." They babbled once finished.

"You're not awful either." The blonde assured-"Did he teach you?" 

(Y/n) agreed with a smile. "We fancied dancing and singing. My people liked artistic activities, we were somewhat hippies." they joked with a melancholic undertone.

"And the Kurta?"-their interests were genuine

Kurapika was surprised, it was the first time anyone had asked him. He couldn't help but respond excitedly.- "Well, I traveled with a friend, his name was Pairo. We transported ourselves on the backs of huge birds called Pikos! It was really fun... did you had something similar to travel?"

(Y/n) stared at him for a moment, tilting their head "We were the animals...", to them, the answer was a bit obvious. Why would they mount animals for transportation if they could transform themselves into animals?

"That seems lawful... I quite omitted that detail." Kurapika notified. I forgot that people like (Y/n) were part beast. They hardly ever mentioned him and he hadn't seen them in their other form either.

(Y/n) Laughed-"And we used normal cars. Uniliums didn't live very detached from humans. Our community was like 40 away from the city and most adults worked in it. We just maintained our animal figure in private. Most humans didn't have a clue they were fraternizing with us." They were delighted to talk about their peers. Like when you talk about a family member you haven't seen in a long time.

"What kind of animals were they?"-.Kurapika's curiosity about the group only increased. Besides if he knew more about them he would also know more about his (Y/n).

They hummed, -"Well... we were all mammals. Most were preys, for each predator, there was an average of 13 preys. Of 126 members, we were 10. There were mice, rabbits, deers. But no one was sure how to determine which animal would be an offspring."- They cheerfully explained, general information. But nothing about themselves. 

Kurapika would have to question directly.-"And you?"

"I am the cat. But I was raised by wolves, like Romulus and Remus. Who knows? I might establish my own empire!"-(Y/n) played.

It was the first time they mentioned it. But now that he reflected, (Y/n) resembled a cat. They had particularly long fangs and claws.

"I didn't know your parents were wolves!" Kurapika felt he was finally learning a little more about his lover's past. But the reaction received was not the one he expected. An ordinary person, he included, would be glad to remember his parents.

(Y/n) quitted smiling and leaned their head into their folded arms. The atmosphere in the room had changed.-"They are average humans. As we mix with humans, it was not uncommon for some to marry them. My grandfather's mother and my grandfather, who were Uniliums, married humans. My mother was human and married another human."- they mumbled. Kurapika felt that the topic was not very pleasant for them, and considered it appropriate to stop that conversation.

"I comprehend..."-and changed the topic-"Kurtas were further separated. It was difficult to get outward of our village. This to guard us. Controlling the scarlet eyes and our emotions was not easy. Many panicked when they saw them."

(Y/n) seemed to quickly forget the preceding topic and willingly listened to their beloved again.-"I understand that. Some humans were also afraid of us, they believed we were demons or beasts. The funny thing is that the deluded wouldn't recognize us."-they mocked-"Sentiments could also influence our appearance. But our parents taught us to be cautious since cubs." 

(Y/n) had seen Kurapika with his scarlet eyes, but he hadn't seen them in their beast form. The most he had seen was that night when they saw him straight in the eye, and their pupils were contracted, like a cat's, and the (e/c) had almost fully spread.

"You have never revealed your cat form to me. I bet you're adorable!"- He expressed in an attempt to satiate his curiosity. 

They sure weren't anticipating that request, following a moment of hesitation, they lilted "I presume I get accustomed to wearing this shape."

Kurapika wanted (Y/n) to have confidence in him. He understood the concern in showing foreigners such aspects. After all, they had both been marginalized and punished for their looks.-"It's not going to be unpleasant to me. I like cats." he offered them a sweet smile. 

At the moment he blinked and reopened his eyes, (Y/n) had a pair of fuzzy (color) cat ears, the right one with a tiny darker spot on the tip, a fluffy tail, and their hair was slightingly fuzzed up. Maybe the most remarkable thing was their feet, long and standing on the tip.

 Their eyes changed again, and their hands were slightly larger with wider claws; to ultimately have the appearance of a cat-humanoid. They didn't look so different and they were still (Y/n). 

Kurapika didn't see anything devilish about the person in front of him. Rather, he saw an exotic beauty, like fantastic creatures from magical books. He felt lucky to be able to witness something of that bearing and have that experience. What was so special to him was that this being was his partner.

"You certainly are a kitten. That's something you can do in that form?"-Kurapika interrogated.

(Y/n) took a minute to consider, head tilted as usual- the only difference is that their ears moved delicately-. They raised their open hands, showing some very pink set to digital pads, advanced towards him wagging his tail, and cupping his face with a cute smile.

"Your hands are very soft, darling."-Kurapika giggled at the silly idea. (Y/n)'s grin grew wider, closed its eyes, and in complete pride said "I have paws, honey!" That was true. Not many could say they had paws. Especially a so soft and warm pair. (Y/n) appeared happy and relieved, as if they had been discharged from a weight or they were finally doing something they had repressed.

"And you also have marshmallow cheeks. Can you do something particular under that form?"-As Kurapika enjoyed the softness of the caring touch, his question was not precisely answered.

(Y/n) separated their paws from his face, and showed its claws. "I have retractile claws, like, well, a cat. Under this form my strength and speed increase. My bite force equals that of a Jaguar. Ultimately I'm capable of using a more potent nen's technique since my aura flow grows. Although, you know I'm a pacifist. I tend to be softer..."

"You look like a big plush doll. Yet, this appearance may be tricky. You absolutely are a cat."- Kurapika could recognize why (Y/n)'s clan was killed to extermination. Many collectors would be filled with sick and devious pride to have such a creature. He was happy that at least (Y/n) survived. For the first time, he was happy that he too survived.

[simplemoonk]

Guess who writes an Erwin/Reader fic? I’m dropping it in here and went to hide. 

Impact - Chapter 1 (also read on Ao3)

The velvet cushions were soft under my body as I lied down on the couch. Eyes closed and my dress hiked up to reveal a generous portion of my left leg. I could feel the guards trying their best to avoid looking at the naked flesh and failing. The room was hot and I was getting bored. Thankfully, it wasn’t long after I heard the footsteps echoing through the corridors beyond the door. The guards opened it up at the exact time he reached the threshold. 

I straightened up on the couch, flashing a mischievous smirk at him. His eyes shone the way they did when he sees me.

“My beauty,” he said as he opened both his arms upon his sides. I tried to stand up as gracefully as I could and walked over his open arms. 

“You made me wait so much,” I said, hugging him around the middle and using the tone of voice I always did when spoke to him. Girlish and sultry. He circled his right arm around my waist and used the left one to motion at his assistant. 

“I got a gift for you.” His assistant lends him an expensive-looking little box. Navy blue eyes watching my facial expressions intently as he took a step back. The box was opened to reveal a necklace with five big red rubies, and the expression on my face was genuine. Awed, baffled, and a little thrown away by how much money this man had possessed. He smiled, satisfied with whatever he saw on my face, and took the necklace to his hand. 

“You are going to escort me tonight on the warming ball. Nothing less is worthy of you.” He said as he turned me around to put the necklace on my throat. My ankle-length black dress floated around my light. Well, being the arm candy of Lord Harold V. Bolton had those sorts of advantages, I guessed. 

I turned around to look at him as he was done with the clasping of the heavy necklace, caressing one of the rubies with the tip of my finger. 

“It is so beautiful, thank you,” I said as I push a white lock of hair out of his face. He was old, yet tall and fit. He was a handsome man. 

“You are very much welcome,” he said and pecked my lips. His assistant couched a little as he was looking down, red-faced. 

“Sir, are you ready to leave?” 

“Let’s get it over with. We have still one more party the next week.” Harold secured his arm around me before pecking me on the lips one more time. 

The guards opened the giant doors as we entered the giant ballroom. It was clear that Harold didn’t avoid spending any money. The giant hall was blended with gold and cream colors, lit with hundreds of candles and torches. Alcohol was flowing like a river of water, and waiters were loaded with heavy tries filled with more food that could feed a family for a month. Especially after the fall of Wall Maria.

I smiled brightly, nails biting down my palm, and pressed my lips to Harold’s cheek as we went our separate ways. He needed to chitchat with all the important men within the hall, including the consultants of the King and military commanders, the latter of which were invited for meeting and greeting since the ball next week would pretty much be all about them. I grabbed a glass of champagne on my way, as I had to entertain the wives and partners. 

“Oh my dear,” I heard the wife of Lord Flemington, a consultant the King, coming toward me, pushing everyone that dared to get on her way with her plump body. 

“Lady Flemington!” I said cheerfully as I made a quick curtsy.   

“Ah, you look, lovely dear,” she glimpsed at my necklace quickly. Her eyes narrowed as her lips curved upwards in a cynic smirk. 

“It is your beautiful eyes that see the beauty.” 

“How are you doing my darling?” she asked with her baritone tone and continued without waiting for an answer, “Have you met my niece?” 

A young girl with caramel-colored hair took a break from glaring at my necklace and smiled beside her aunt. 

“No, I wasn’t fortunate enough,” I said and smiled at the girl. She checked me out without much effort to be subtle. A smirk, very much similar to her aunt formed on her face. 

“My name is Rose – Rose Flemington,” she said with a tone that was obviously demanding respect. 

“It was so nice to meet you, Miss Flemington,” I curtsy lightly again. 

“Likewise,” but that little smirk told me otherwise. 

“I have heard you start… staying with Lord Bolton, dear,” Mrs. Flemington asked as she started fanning herself with her infamous giant fan. 

“I’m visiting him temporarily,” 

“Are you his niece?” Rose asked, faking an interest since she knew I was not. As a response, I laughed merrily, throwing my head back. 

“I’m his friend,” the laughter was still present in my voice. She and her aunt exchanged a quick look. 

“Well, I would say a very dear friend. Is that necklace a gift from Lord Bolton?” Mrs. Flemington asked as she snapped her fan in her palm. I touched the ruby in the middle gently. 

“Ah, yes he is so very generous is not he?” 

“Yes, he is generous man,” Mrs. Flemington said and then murmured under her breath, “he used to be a dignified one as well.”

Rose was trying to hide her giggle into her palm when I first noticed the air around me changed. The hairs on the back of my neck stand on their ends. I knew the feeling. I was being watched. As if to glance around the hall, I turned my head to the side but whoever was watching me was already lost within the crowd. The Flemingtons left my side as they took offense to my distraction. 

I continued to wander through the hall, making small talk with noisy noblewomen, but the feeling stayed with me throughout of all. The pickling in my neck, the goosebumps on my upper arms. I also came to realize there should be more than one person watching over me. But whenever I got close to get a glimpse of them they disappeared into the shadows lurking around the corners. I watched Harold for a while. He was chatting enthusiastically, a glass of sparkly champagne in hand and a lit cigar in mouth. He caught me staring and rose his glass toward me, the movement gathering attention from the other noblemen around him as they all saluted me with their glasses as well. I smiled and walked toward him. Pretending not to notice how almost every man around him watching me approach. Something wicked shone in Harold’s eyes. I knew he liked knowing how everyone around him knew I was his. 

“I will powder my nose; I will be back in a second,” I said to him, putting a hand on his chest.

“Don’t make me wait,” he said goodheartedly. I waved him over, making my way out of the hall. Toward the doors, my eyes met with the eyes of the Commander of Military Police, Nile Dok. After looking at my face for a second he slightly bowed his head in acknowledgment. I smiled at him brightly despite the anxiety boiling in my stomach.

Immediately after I set my foot through the threshold of the ballroom, two guards started trailing after me as they always did when I change places. Nick and Kia. 

I took a deep, calming breath to slow down my hammering heart. 

My sweaty palm hovering over the slit of my dress, brushing lightly against the dagger I kept bounded around my leg. The air was tense and thick with anticipation. We were almost halfway to my bedroom. That was when I felt them move. 

Pulling the dagger out of its place in a flash, I circled back. Ready to take any blow Nick or Kia was about to deal. But to my surprise, it never came. Without any warning, more men hurled out of the dark corners, where they should have been hiding. Two of them tackled a surprised Nick and Kia to the ground with force, making their weapons fly across the hall. I stand still in shock as the men kept struggling, yelling, and trying to fight back. 

Thanks to the torchlights attached securely on the walls, a shadow was revealed onto the ground, coming behind me. I turned around in a heartbeat, the pointy side of my dagger digging slightly on the soft skin of my attacker’s throat. His arm was restraining me to dig it any deeper. His own knife was pointed to my own, but unlike me, he avoided sticking it to my throat. A tall man with perfectly combed blond hair. I could swear I have seen him before somewhere. 

“I don’t want to hurt you,” my opponent spoke and despite his expressionless face, I could see his surprise by my sudden action in his eyes. 

“Says the man who had a knife against my throat,” I deadpanned. Immediately he lowered his weapon. 

“My apologies. It was for self-defense” he eyed the dagger still pointed at his throat. Suddenly I have remembered where I knew him. 

I heard the footsteps echoing through the hall at a fast pace. Turning around I saw the men Erwin Smith, the Commander of Survey Corps who happened to ‘save’ my life, brought with himself successfully pinned my struggling guards down. 

Three military police soldiers that were attending the ball came out running. They glanced at the scene with horrified faces but to their credits, they collected themselves up rather quickly. 

“Are you alright, miss?” Finn, a tall brunet from the MP, asked while eyeing the towering Commander behind me. 

“I – I’m,” the stutter on my part wasn’t an act. Other MPs knelt down beside the guards who at the end understood they weren’t get away with it and stopped their fighting. 

“Oi, you,” the raven-haired man tackled Nick down called out Finn. I recalled him as being labeled as humanity’s strongest soldier by the civilians. Great.

“Go and alert Burton. He needs to come here immediately.” 

Finn glimpsed at me briefly and turned to do exactly that when he saw I approved with a slow blink of my eyes. 

“Commander,” Gerald, another MP, gave a salute to Smith, “What exactly are you doing here?”

“One of my soldiers overhears the Miss’s guards have some ill intentions regarding her. It was very late notice, and unless we act quickly it might be too late.”

“With all due respect, you should let the Military Police know,” Gerald said through gritted teeth. 

“Were you not listening or are you just that dense? The man just said there was no time,” the short man with raven hair snapped. Gerald turned toward him with a hard look on his eyes, opening his big mouth. 

“I think I need to sit down.” I interrupted before he could say anything, wobbling on my feet. The commander’s warm hand grabbed me from my underarm and he guided me to a nearby ottoman. Soon after I was sat securely, new footsteps were echoing the halls once again. Harold came in a rush, face pale and hands shaking. 

“Connor!” he uttered my name urgently. Sitting beside me, and hugging me tightly to his side. I saw Nile came in a rush as well. He checked me out quickly, and when he made sure that I was okay, turned toward Commander Smith. 

“Just what the hell happened here?”

I listened as Erwin Smith repeated how the events unfold. How he heard about the assassination but couldn’t afford to lose any time to alert the others around. How he took his most trusted two soldiers, Mike and Levi he said, with him to investigate. Harold was drawing soothing circles around my back as Nile and other MPs listened. My attackers had already led away in handcuffs, bruised faces, and even more bruised egos. The mansion was searched but to no avail. One of the guards, who was on watch at the back door reported a black carriage waited but the moment Nick and Kai were boarded to an official MP carriage, it took off. There were no other clues. 

Nile took a few steps closer to the ottoman Harold and I were sitting. 

“Lord Burton, please allow me to leave two of my most trusted soldiers here for extra protection of the Miss. At least until we figured out who is behind this attempt.” 

“The soldiers who were too late, Commander?” Harold asked through gritted teeth. His hand stopping their motions on my back. Nile shot a side-eye look at Finn and Gerald, his unpleasantness with the situation was clear. 

“I would feel safer Harold,” I said as I clasped his hand within mine. He turned to me. 

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I will assign my best guards to you,” 

“But – what about you?” 

“Don’t worry about me,” he said smiling and pressing his lips to the side of my head. 

“My lord, the whole house searched. It is safe.” Another guard walked toward us to inform us. 

“Thank you,” he said before helping me up. We bid our goodnights and thank yous to the soldiers present. As I passed by I looked straight in the eye of Erwin Smith, and even though it was very brief I saw how taken aback he was by the venom of my expression.  

********************************************

A week passed by since the ‘incident’. A week that I couldn’t sleep well at night of how tense and stressed I had been during the day. A week everyone around me had blamed it on the incident how pale I looked and how little I ate. A week of tiptoeing around, listening to footsteps as I searching places that I wasn’t supposed to. A week of a total pain  my ass. 

My torture was continuing as I was walking around in the Military Fund Raiser Ball Harold was throwing. Many familiar faces were in the crowd. Some, the ones that were the most important ones, especially for the night, nodding at me subtly whenever I caught their eyes. I tried to take comfort from that. 

Everything is okay.

I kept saying that in my head, over and over. Harold was chatting with Premier Dhalis Zachary. Nile was circling the ballroom. He caught my eye for a second and tried to smile, though I could say he was just as nervous as I was. It was more crowded than the last week since Harold had maximized the security. Lady Flemington was waving me over to go near her as I saw a group of military police entered the ballroom. My breathing got heavier as they marched toward Harold Burton. Everyone’s eyes were following their every move. Premier took a few steps back. 

The soldier, Gerald, stood right in front of Harold.

“Lord Burton, you are under arrest for malversation, prostitution, and withholding civilians without their permission…” Gerald was reading Burton’s rights as something caught my eye among the crowd. Perfectly combed blond hair. Baby blue eyes that I could saw the remarkableness of them regardless of the distance between us. He was wearing a suit that was similar to the one he had worn last week. I didn’t take my eyes off of his as Burton was led away and all the remaining uniformed MPs turned toward me. I could feel everyone in the ballroom now was staring at me, shocked by the unraveling events, and continued to gawk, as they kept unraveling. Lady Flemington had a hand on her chest and a smile that she tried to contain as she deemed I must be in trouble as well. From the periphery of my eye, I saw Finn came to stand close to me. A green cloak folded neatly on his hands. 

I watched as the Commander of the Survey Corps knitted his eyebrows together. I assumed he had been known about the assassination from the beginning, probably days before the ball. He was trying to make a good impression on the Corps so that Harold would donate more than he was planning initially tonight. To the legion that harbored the soldiers who had saved his precious sweetheart. And even if I was wrong that that wouldn’t be the case, and all Erwin Smith had been trying to do was to protect me, it still didn’t make up for all the troubles he caused me last week. It was very petty but I couldn’t help the smug smirk forming on my face. I took great pleasure from his baffled expression. 

I turned toward Finn and looked him down. 

“The whole mansion was searched, captain. All belongings of Lord Burton were seized for further investigation.” 

“Thanks, Finn,” I said and took the cloak out of his hand. As I tossed the green cloak that was embroidered with the unicorn representing the military police, the uniformed MPs saluted me in perfect harmony. Eyes shone with pride. 

I gave out a long breath as the tension finally left my body.      

[hystericalcherries]

aeon (6/6)

Pairing: Keith/Lance Words: 10.5k Rating: M Warnings: mild violence Tags:  Post-Season/Series 07, quantum abyss, Flashbacks, Flashforwards, Prophetic Visions, Visions in dreams, Mind Control, Dimension Travel, Boys Being Boys, Falling In Love, Mutual Pining, Gay Keith (Voltron), Bisexual Lance (Voltron) when the going gets tough... the tough write fix-it fics, Allura (Voltron) Lives, because fuck you jds and lm

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Summary:

Keith does not leave the quantum abyss untouched.

“Home can be anything, you know,” Lance says in lieu of a conversation starter.

Slivers of moonlight filter through the blinds above their heads, casting lines of truth across the sheets. Lance tilts his head forward and a band slides over his eyes, catching the ocean in them and drawing Keith into their rolling tides. And as distracted as he is, he doesn't put up a fight when a hand clasps his own, reeling them heartward.

“Home is just something you can come back to.” His knuckles brush against the soft fabric of a nightshirt, the v-neckline falling loose to reveal a sharp collarbone, and Keith feels his breath hitching. “Something that keeps you grounded.”

READ IT ON AO3

The day of the Alliance Feast comes and Keith finds himself sulking in a corner as he watches an alien chat Lance up.

Allura had stuffed them all in Altean formal wear, color-coded and high-collared, capes draped tastefully across their shoulders. The material of the suits are surprisingly breathable despite all its excess, stretching and bunching up in just the right places to cut them all into impressive figures. The princess had been very particular in how she wanted them all to look and had forced herself into more than one fitting room back at the Garrison; Shiro’s hair is slicked back, Hunk’s headband folded into the pocket of his jacket, Keith’s loose ponytail tied with a red ribbon, Lance’s waist adorned by a silver chain and Pidge’s glasses exchanged for a sleeker pair. If the star-eyed looks they’ve been receiving ever since they landed on New Altea is anything to go by then she must have succeeded.

Lance, Keith must admit, looks particularly dashing. His suit makes his shoulders look broader and it’s a problem. More so because it’s obvious that the red paladin isn’t the only one to take notice, more than one individual coming forward to introduce themselves to the friendliest member of Voltron.

Keith glares.

The alien doesn't take the hint and keeps talking, going so far as to place one of their four hands on the blue paladin’s upper arm when they laugh. Lance looks pleased.

“You should go talk to him.”

A crick forms in his neck when he jerks to attention at Allura’s voice. She fills up the once empty space next to him, having somehow snuck up on him, wearing low heels and a pale pink dress; she looks the epitome of aristocratic, with jewels dripping across her collarbone and dangling from her ears. His heart jumps at her words when they finally register, unable to help the quick glance he sends to the tables. “No,” he says immediately, turning away when he catches the unilu delegate peering at him from over the blue paladin’s shoulder. “He looks fine where he is. I don’t want to butt in.”

The princess frowns, obviously displeased at his reluctance. She crosses her arms and juts out a hip in a move that’s far too Keith-ish in nature for his liking. “You know, Lance loves to dance and—”

“Awesome,” Keith grouses.

Allura glares. “—and I’m sure he would say yes to one if someone asked.”

There’s no denying that the blue paladin has had no shortage of dance partners; ever since the band had started playing the boy had been on and off the dancefloor, spinning past him with someone new every few minutes. Some bitterness sneaks into his tone when he says, “I’ve noticed.”

“Now that’s not fair. You’ve had all evening to make your move. Don’t be upset that others are doing what you can’t.”

The words sting and Keith isn’t quick enough to hide it.

Allura’s expressions soften and he bristles a bit, less at the thought of being the recipient of someone’s pity and more knowing that he’s actively doing everything to deserve it. “Keith,” she says, and it’s soft and encouraging. “You are one of the most courageous people I know and you’ve faced things far more imposing than this.” She ducks her head to look him in the face. “It’s just Lance.”

“I know,” he says eventually, making a visible effort to relax. He sighs. “I know. It’s just… I don’t want to mess it up.”

“There’s nothing to mess up,” she assures, touching his arm. “Lance is a fellow paladin and, more importantly, your friend. You’ve been through much together and nothing could break the bond you have because of it.” She pauses, carefully manicured hands digging into his sleeve. “And if he’s the one from those visions of yours then talking to him would be the first step towards the rest of your life.”

He really regrets telling her about the flashes.

“It’s him, isn’t it.” It’s more of a fact than a question and Keith can’t even conjure up the energy to deny it.

Lance laughs again.

At his silence, Allura gasps. “I knew it! Oh! How romantic! It’s just like those books Hunk recommended to me, but better because—well, this is real, isn’t it?” Her hands clap together excitedly. “To think, the history you share is just a precursor of what is to come. It must be destiny!”

“Allura,” he warns.

“If he is from the visions, then you mustn’t just talk to him. You have to dance with Lance too! Keith, you absolutely must!”

“I don’t think that’s the best idea.”

“And why not?”

“Because, well, we’re not… it’s complicated. Plus, I don’t really dance.”

Allura tuts at him, booping him on the nose as she takes on a tone of one talking to an ignorant toddler. “Not with that attitude, you don’t. Come on. It will be fun.”

“And what if I don’t wanna have fun?”

The princess purses her lips and she tugs at his sleeve impatiently. He resists when she makes a move to drag him away from his corner, twisting away from her with a scowl. Knowing of her strength and how it outmatches his by miles, he karate chops her other hand when it reaches out for him. She gasps, offended at his defiance, and then redoubles her efforts.

“Why must you be so difficult?” she growls, circlet slipping over one pointed ear as she shoves herself in his space. Her elbow digs uncomfortably in his gut as her other hand fumbles for the wrist of his hand. “I’m only trying to help.”

“Allura, I swear—”

“Well, don’t you two look cozy.”

The two freeze and it’s almost comical, getting caught like this—the red paladin and the altean princess, important figures in their own right, mid-scuffle and cursing at each other—yet Keith doesn’t laugh. Doesn’t laugh because while they had been arguing, a figure had snuck up on them. A figure with very broad shoulders.

Allura recovers first. “Lance!”

The boy belonging to the name smiles. “Mind if I cut in?”

“Of course!” Allura gushes, letting go of Keith and all but pushing him at the blue paladin regardless of the fact that he hadn’t specified who he wanted to dance with. She takes a moment to fix her appearance, smoothing down hair and adjusting her dress, looking haughty. “I’ve gotta find Coran and make sure he’s not overdoing it on the nunvill, so you boys enjoy yourselves.”

And with that, she leaves. Leaves Keith in the middle of a party with his bonafide first and only crush.

He looks up and meets Lance’s eyes. It’s been months since he came back from the abyss and the half inch he had over the other boy is gone now, making them eye level. He knows neither of them are done growing and their heights will continue to change but Keith finds that he likes it this way for now.

“So,” Lance starts, biting his lip. “Dance?”

A quick look across the hall and his stomach flutters nervously. “I’ve never really…”

But Lance is already moving right along, grabbing his hand and tugging him in the direction of the dancefloor. Dazed, Keith lets it happen, focus torn between their clasped hands and the back of the other’s head. The crowd parts easily for them, curious looks and whispers following at their heels only to be hastily hidden when he glances away from the pinking ears of his partner. Lance must be determined to ignore their audience, expertly spinning Keith around to face him and guiding their bodies in a starting position.

The music is already in full swing and Lance takes a step to match that of the other dancers, gently tugging Keith along in a strange mix of a waltz and shuffle, confident where he is stiff.

After maybe a half a minute where they steadily avoided each other’s eye, Keith speaks up. “Is this something we do now? Dance.”

Blue eyes flicker past his face and he doesn't have to imagine the silent conversation that's happening over his shoulder. Lightning quick he looks behind him, but, much to his chagrin, Hunk has already schooled his expression from where he sits at one of the many tables and is staring back at him with all too innocent eyes.

Lance clears his throat and Keith turns back to a nervous smile. “Yeah, I thought we could try it out… See how you—er, we feel about it.”

There must have been something in the drink he had earlier of his because Keith can feel himself melting.

“It’s nice,” he says, watching as the other boy’s smile turns into something more lighthearted. “I’m not very good but, yeah, it’s… it’s nice.”

Eyes twinkle in the warm light. “I think it’s nice too.”

There’s a bit of a hitch in the music and Keith spies a few of the musicians being switched out, exchanging string instruments for ones that look like a cross between trumpets and accordions. It must be getting later in the evening because some of the dancers leave, replaced by a much younger crowd. He spots a few familiar faces, both humans—Atlas technicians, old classmates, Garrison faculty—and aliens—bounty hunters, altean colonists, royal dignitaries—all unabashedly shedding their professional appearance in exchange for a good time. The energy pulses upwards, pushing them closer together and causing the weird rumbling in Keith’s chest to give way to butterflies, transparent wings brushing along the inside of his ribs in a way that has his heart thumping madly.

When the song increases in tempo Keith accidentally steps on Lance’s foot. He cringes. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Lance assures. ”Just lighten your steps and pretend it’s a training session. Move with me, not against me.”

Keith tries the step again and nearly trips over his own feet when he miscalculates how many times his partner would step back, causing a table of girls nearby to twitter with amusement at the sight of him. Lance doesn’t mock him for his clumsiness, just adjusts his hand so it presses a bit lower on his back; Keith feels the touch like a brand, barely catching onto the way his palm shifts in accordance to the next step.

It gives Keith something to focus on and, eventually, he falls in line with the steps.

“See? You’re a natural.”

Keith snorts and Lance grins, proud. “Not really—not like you anyway. How did you get to be so good?”

“I'm Cuban,” he says as a means of explanation, swinging his hips leisurely with the beat a drummer starts playing, obviously enjoying himself. It’s… distracting. Especially when the song changes to something with more bass and he lines their bodies together, starting up a heavy sway that Keith falls into after the initial jerk of surprise. Then there’s a thigh fitting between his legs and Lance is letting go of one hip to guide his gloved hand to the small of his back, casual as can be as the boy rolls back into the touch.

“This is, um.” Keith takes in a shaky breath. “I’ve never done this before.”

“Yeah, I don’t think there are many opportunities for this out in the desert. You really missed out—the Garrison dances always ended up this way. Didn’t matter how many chaperones they assigned.” Lance’s voice is level with his ear, their cheeks brushing as they move to the music, causing goosebumps when he feels the contradictory smooth-roughness of the other’s freshly shaved skin. “But we’ll count this as making up for all the ones you missed. Better late than never, right?”

Breathing is difficult but Keith manages it, if only just. “Right.”

Lance makes a noncommittal hum, pressing closer to let a couple trip pass them. Keith watches them go from his view over Lance’s shoulder, only slightly scandalized when the shorter alien unabashedly slips a hand over their date’s backside. It causes his hand to twitch, the pad of his thumb finding the indent of his partner’s lower back through his suit. With a startling clarity, Keith realizes how far his hand has fallen and tenses, waiting for Lance to notice and take offense.

But nothing happens. No one comments on how close the two paladins have gotten, probably because they aren’t the only ones to do so. The dancefloor is a mesh of bodies, all moving to whatever dance they know and hiding them from the view of the spectators sitting at the tables. He’s not pushed away in disgust, nor is he laughed at. Instead, Lance drapes his free arm over Keith’s shoulder, smoothing down the baby hairs at the back of his neck.

It gives Keith the courage to glance over; he spies half-lidded eyes and a warm flush under golden skin. Enticed by the fluttery feeling low in his gut, he settles his remaining arm over the other’s bicep, just above the edge of his elbow-length gloves. A slow inhale, followed by an even slower exhale, and the pulse under his fingers jumps.

He’s never been held like this before, as if he was the beginning of an addictive end.

The song—the fifth they had danced to and Keith deliriously wonders where the time had gone—starts to come to a climax, and Lance stirs. He looks at the band, then the other dancers and then Keith. There’s something in his eyes and it’s like taking a deep breath before diving under, adrenaline-inducing, willing to be pulled wherever the current takes him. The moment builds like a cresting wave—higher and higher, curling with seafoam and impending desire—until Keith is sure that they're going to crash together, that he’s going to lean in closer and kiss him. Involuntarily, he slips his eyes closed.

“And now, the big finish!”

His eyes fly back open. "What—"

But Lance is already twisting them around and throwing himself backwards. And Keith has no choice but to hastily lean with him, biceps flexing as he tightens his grip around Lance’s waist and hastily puts pressure between his shoulder blades. The top of his head barely misses cracking against the floor. Still, Lance cackles like it’s great fun.

“I can’t believe that worked,” Lance says too loudly when they’re back to standing normally, clapping with the rest of the crowd as the band announces their fifteen minute break. The moment officially over. “I usually drop my partners when I try to dip them.”

“That was embarrassing.”

“Eh, you liked it.”

A little called out, Keith hunches his shoulders and scowls. “I did not.”

But Lance goes on like he didn’t say anything, giving him a million-watt smile. “We did pretty well, all things considered. Probably cause we make such a good team.”

And how is Keith supposed to keep things together when he goes and says things like that? All sincere and butterfly-inducing. “Yeah,” he tells the boy, feeling brave and scared and more than himself, making it so that the back of their hands brush. “We really are.”

After that the party winds down.

The crowds thin and people start saying their goodbyes, respectful salutes paving way for hearty handshakes and more than one inebriated embrace. There seems to be a line forming in front of Allura, everyone wanting a final word with the princess before the night is officially over; Keith merely gives a wave as he and Lance pass her by towards where Hunk and Pidge dally around the buffet table, thinking nothing of the quick smile she gives in return before looking at the diplomat talking to her, knowing that he’ll see her tomorrow at their usual movie night.

Hunk is polishing off his plate of what looks to be pigs in a blanket while Pidge shoves leftover hors d'oeuvres into her shoulder pack. “I’ve got to get this recipe,” the former is saying when the pair come within hearing distance, looking up at the sound of their footsteps and doing a triple take before not-so-subtlety nudging his smaller companion with his elbow. With both gazes trained on them, Hunk gives a too-innocent smile. “Looks like you guys had fun. How was the dancefloor?”

“Crowded,” Keith replies at the same time Lance says, “Cozy.”

The yellow paladin’s eyes flicker between them. “Okay, yeah. Well, we were gonna head out soon… Are, um, you guys gonna…”

“It is getting pretty late,” Lance agrees, leaning forward to steal the last bit of the food from Hunk’s plate before slipping around Keith and draping an arm across his shoulders. He pops the finger food into his mouth and makes a show of chewing loudly when Keith frowns. “You’re going back to the Atlas, right?” he asks him, oblivious or uncaring of the two pairs of eyes that dissect the entire interaction. “Do you think I could hitch a ride with you? I’m staying with Veronica tonight and I think she already left.”

“Sure.”

“Cool.” Lance leans away far enough that he nearly topples the two of them over and Keith has to lightly brace his hand on the other’s waist to better balance them. “See you later, paladudes.”

They four exchange fist bumps and then the red and blue paladin are angling themselves towards the exit, Keith trying not to combust when their arms stay wrapped around each other. More than one eye sticks to them and even more bodies put themselves in front of them to give a deferential goodbye; Lance takes it in stride, giving a sincere wave here and an over-the-top wink there, and it more than makes up for Keith’s own stilted replies. He only blunders once and that’s when Shiro catches his eye over the brim of a champagne glass, smile smug and unbearable.

Finally, they make it to the building’s transport dock where the Black Lion sits docilely.

The forcefield dissipates before Keith even asks and there’s a low rumble in greeting when the pair walk up the ramp, which Lance reciprocates with a light pat to one of the wall panels before following Keith to the cockpit. Then it’s just a means of setting a course to the Atlas and watching the stars pass them by as the mechanical lion does the rest.

The Atlas is empty save for the night shift, all of whom pause in their work up in the control room to watch the Black Lion land and the two paladins that exit it make their way across the room. It is almost eerie how their footsteps sound like a military march in comparison to absolute quiet that reigns once the cabin pressurizer comes online but Keith doesn’t give himself any time to consider it, not when he has a preferable distraction walking alongside him. Lance fills in the silence easily, looking princely as he charms Keith with anecdotes of parties past, laughing alongside him as he recalls the time he had won the Winter Formal crown and the resulting awkward dance that had followed, set to an early century song that he attempts (and fails) to beatbox. It makes the trip up to the floor with their quarters all the more enjoyable and when it’s over, Keith wishes it wasn’t.

Lance flashes a smile at him. “Night, Samurai.”

He sighs in return. “Night, Sharpshooter.”

Then the boy is turning around, disappearing down the hallway with only one look over his shoulder. And Keith, not wanting to look more foolish than he already has by getting caught staring at the spot his crush had occupied, quickly unlocks his door and slips inside.

His mother is in the kitchen, slicing up something that looks like a blue tomato, and looks up when he lingers in the doorway. “You’re back,” she says neutrally, transferring the food to a serving platter and pointedly ignoring the cosmic wolf that watches her every move, drool starting to collect at the base of his largest molar. “How was the party?”

He shrugs. “It was alright.”

“Just alright?”

He shuffles away and into the living room, collapsing onto the couch. His neck cranes back, giving him a perfect view of the ceiling tiles. There’s a scorch mark in the top-right corner from when Kosmo had mistaken one of Krolia’s blasters for a chew toy. He squints at it, thinking, and his mind instantly snags onto the phantom brush of thighs and the strum of an alien guitar. Mouth dry and more than a little embarrassed, he squeezes his eyes shut.

The couch dips slightly and then a clawed hand is stroking his hair, pushing his bangs out of his face and behind his ear. The gesture quells the loud noise in his chest and he lets his head dip to the side, heated cheek squished against the cool felt of the couch.

“It was maybe more than alright,” he finally answers. For some reason, it’s this admission that had him blushing and curling his toes in secondhand gratification. “I had fun, more fun than I thought I would have anyway.”

“I’m glad to hear it.”

She doesn’t ask, but he knows she wants to know. Better yet, he wants to tell her.

“Everyone was there.”

She hums and continues to comb through his hair.

“Shiro, Pidge and Hunk and Allura. Lance too.” A pause where he clears his throat, far from casual. “We danced.”

“That sounds nice.”

“Yeah, it was—nice.”

They sit in silence for a bit and his mind lingers on the dance he had shared that evening. He plays it on loop, going over every detail until he could sketch it out on paper, framed and made all the more real. Eventually Krolia stops her grooming in favor of offering him a slice of the strange fruit; he takes it and plops it into his mouth without question, surprised at the sweet taste.

“It’s weird, feeling this way,” he says absently, grounded but with his head in the clouds. “Weird that this is where I am. That life’s like this now.”

“The universe works in mysterious ways,” she tells him with a hum and he would scoff at such a cliche saying if it weren’t for the way his mother says it so genuinely. “Sometimes, it takes a lifetime and a half to find your place in it. I’m glad you’ve found yours.”

The flashes start coming faster and—

—Lance’s warm hand in his as they walk through a line of stalls selling alien wares. Merchants offering gossamer scarfs the same shade as the rising sun and jewelry that shines like they’ve been plucked straight from the night sky. Gaggles of children running through the streets, laughing as they dodge through the crowds. An ornate dagger purchased and gifted—

—fingers gently rubbing a sticky substance over the stretch of his cheek while a voice drones on about the benefits of skincare—

—his shoulder leaned against a doorway as he watches Lance address a class full of recruits, eyes twinkling when they catch sight of him hidden in the shadows. The loud trill of a bell and the shuffle of children eager for lunch, tempered by the arms wrapped around his neck and the kiss bestowed on his cheek—

—the shudder that goes through him as they rock into each other, skin sweaty and breathes loud. Hands gripping his thighs and his teeth nipping at an exposed neck, leaving marks so the world would know who they belonged to, now and to the end. Words whispered in the dark just as stars burst across his vision—

—eyes connecting over a crowd, secretive and happy—

—Keith fumbling with the black box in his pocket as he paces their room, repeating the words he wants to say to the man that he loves, nervous and excited and everything that comes after—

—he never wants them to stop.

They are hanging out in Keith’s room three days after the ball, sitting on the floor and leaning against his bed as they enjoy each other’s presence. Between them, Kosmo rolls onto his back, expecting belly rubs now that they’re no longer distracted by the show they had been watching, ending credits rolling after twenty-three minutes of terrible storytelling and bad animation. Lance is talking with the assumption that Keith will listen, going on loudly about how his character in the show is the main protagonist while delivering pats to the space wolf.

And Keith is… distracted.

Distracted in a sense that he can’t focus—or rather, he can’t stop focusing. On the energetic hand gestures and the expressive emotions that flit across Lance’s face as he speaks, pausing intermittently in order to coo at Kosmo and ask his opinion on things, always answered with a happy pant and an excited tail wag that has the blue paladin nodding sagely before continuing. He focuses on the way he feels now, in this moment, content like he’s never felt before.

A wet tongue licks a stripe up Lance’s cheek and he rears back, half disgusted, half charmed, and Keith can’t keep quiet any longer. Just blurts out, “We should do something this weekend.”

His friend blinks owlishly. “What?”

There’s fire coursing through his veins, invigorating him. It gives him courage to continue, to make so that the flashes are no longer flashes but memories. “I said we should do something this weekend. Do something together.”

“Yeah, okay.”

The casualness of the answers makes him think that the boy doesn’t quite understand the request. Assumes what he’s asking is for something they’ve always done. They hang out all the time, yes, but this is different. He wants this to be different.

“No, I mean we should go out this weekend.” Keith sends him a certain look, waiting for Lance to catch on.

He doesn’t catch on. “Huh?”

Dark eyes roll toward the ceiling and Keith shakes his head, and there’s that something again and oh, it’s fondness—it’s a look of fondness quirking his lips.

“What I’m saying is…” He takes a quick moment to shift on his hip so that their knees are almost touching and, after a moment of consideration, Keith slides his hand down and over until the tips of their pinkies bump into each other. “We should go out this weekend, like go on a ride out to town. Whatever you want, really.”

Lance’s blinks once, twice, three times, and—there. Comprehension floods and it takes only half a second before a high pitched noise scratches out of the boy’s throat. His eyes are wide, comically so, and he stares at Keith, mouth parting in an eclipse of a red moon. Then, just as Keith is committing the image to memory, he snaps his mouth shut and visibly shakes himself. “O-okay, I see. You mean like a scouting mission, right? For any lingering drones out in the desert. Well, yeah, um, as long as it’s okay with Shiro—”

“No,” he quickly cuts off, partially frustrated at the gap in communication and partially embarrassed that they would need clearance for what he has in mind. “I meant—a ride together—as in, you and me. No mission. Just us… together.”

The boy swallows loudly and Keith tracks the moment involuntarily.

"Oh.”

A lapse follows, not uncomfortable, but full. Keith buzzes in the aftertaste of his impromptu proposition and holy hell, he just asked Lance out. They’ve still yet to talk about the ball and how they had danced all night, and, despite the looks they receive from their teammates, neither of them have been brave enough to breach the silent agreement of keeping whatever feelings they had to themselves. However, now everything threatens to burst. His heart finally catches up to his words, beating in overdrive as he waits for an answer. But Lance seems not to care for the nervousness pulsing in his veins or the butterflies fluttering in the base of his stomach because he keeps up the uncharacteristic silence. It remains that way for a solid thirty seconds, until, finally, Keith can't take it anymore.

He clears his throat. “So, is that a yes?”

Lance jerks to attention, looking caught. “I, uh, what?”

“Do you want to go?”

Something incredible happens then. It’s wild and previously unthinkable, but Lance blushes.

He blinks and his vision doubles, half of it going auburn in a wash of caribbean light. He is by the waterfront, the sound of crashing waves dissolving into background noise when compared to the breathy laugh that washes over his face. Darkened cheeks lift in a smile that crinkles eyes and Keith goes a bit red himself at the image. The flash indulges him in a scene of utter bliss; velvety sand and supple lips, parting against his own.

Without thought he leans in, chasing the moment not yet passed. It causes present Lance’s eyes to go wide and it’s nothing like the cool burn of his half lidded gaze on the beach, salt drying on his lashes and sun-born freckles prickling his cheeks.

“I—ah, um. I—I’ll go.”

“Yeah?”

Lance looks away and then back. His voice is the quietest he’s ever heard. Almost shy. “Yeah.”

And it really is that easy.

The days go by slow after that, drawling in an agonizing pace. Second by second, minute by minute, hour by hour. Nearly stagnant, Keith hangs under time’s dispassionate influence, watching the clock and willing it to move. It’s a blessing when it finally hits five o’clock on the following Saturday. He stops the pacing he had been doing for the past hour and checks his reflection for the sixth time in as many minutes, tucking and untucking his shirt and running a hand in his hair in an futile attempt to tame it. When the results only further his agitation he gives up, collecting his nerves to the best of his ability making his way out the door with the intention of a quiet getaway.

Which makes him startle when he runs into Romelle outside his door, hand raised and poised to knock. “Keith! I've been sent to retrieve you!” He sees her gaze flicker down to take in his outfit—his cleanest pair of jeans, a corded necklace with a hanging Marmora pendant, and a leather jacket so new that its tag is stuffed in his back pocket—and he stops himself from turning back around and locking himself in his closet till the end of time. “Dinner is almost ready and Coran has made the most spectacular—”

“Actually,” he interrupts, unable to maintain eye contact, “I’ve got other plans.”

Romelle opens her mouth, but Keith, knowing the girl’s knack for rambling, is already speeding through the hallway.

Unfortunately for him, the living room is not as empty as he had previously thought. The yellow and green paladin are sitting on the couch, surrounded by a hurricane of blankets and pillows, the leftovers of a raid on Shiro’s candy stache sprawled across the coffee table.

“Aw, Keith, you look nice. What’s the occasion?”

Pidge looks up and over her screen, lips curling in a sly grin that instantly puts Keith on edge. “Yeah, Keith, where are you going?”

“Nowhere,” he says immediately. Then, “Out.”

“Out with Lance I bet. Isn’t your date today?”

Hunk gasps. “You guys are going on a date?”

“How did you…?” He spots his phone on the couch next to her and huffs angrily, stomping over and snatching it back. He quickly unlocks it, frowning when his last conversation with Lance immediately pops up, the other boy having sent a barrage of emojis in affirmation that their outing was still on. “Stop looking through my stuff and for the last time, we aren’t—it’s not a date. We’re just going for a ride, maybe check out the town market. It’s whatever.”

“I don’t know, that sounds a lot like a date to me. Hunk, any thoughts?”

Hunk has just one. “It’s totally a date.”

Heat flushes his cheeks. “Don’t you have your own quarters? Why are you even here?”

Pidge leans back, priggish smirk still in tact. “Matt and N-1 are having their rebel friends over and I didn’t want to third-wheel it, so Shiro said I could crash here for the night.”

Keith internally curses Shiro and his mother hen tendencies. Outwardly, he searches for the key card he’s pretty sure he left on the table the night before. His hair falls into his face as he ducks to check under the furniture and he brushes it back behind his ear, thinking maybe it would be more manageable in a ponytail.

“Look at him.” Pidge snickers. “What a schmuck.”

Hunk shushes her with a light pat of the arm. “I think it’s sweet. It means he cares. And don’t you worry Keith, I’m sure Lance will appreciate the effort you put into today. It’s also perfectly normal to be nervous for your first date— ”

“I’m not nervous and it’s not a date.”

Their response is lost when he goes to the office in the next room and searches there. But it’s all for naught because Shiro is a veritable mess when it comes to anything other than flying because there are papers scattered everywhere and it would take hours to file through even half of it.

When he comes back out, Allura has joined them. She perks up at the sight of him, but he ignores her in favor of checking in between the cushions of the armchair. However, Allura is not deterred. “Keith, Pidge and Hunk have just informed me of your date with Lance. If I may, I have some suggestions—”

“I don’t need any suggestions. I just need to leave or I’ll be late.” Pidge squawks indignantly when Keith shoves her to check her side of the couch.

“Yes, you’re right! Punctuality is very important for these types of things. Early duflax gets the wyvin, as Coran always says.” It seems pointless to mention that not once has he ever heard Coran say that. “But if I could impart some advice before you go. Now, I don’t know much about Earthen mating rituals, but Pidge tells me that courting is a common practice here— ”

“I’m not listening.”

“—gifts are imperative for a successful—”

“Can’t hear you.”

“—when you present, do so when tensions are high—”

“Allura, please, stop.”

“—and then, finally, you must lay claim—”

“I’m leaving,” Keith announces loudly, trying and failing to drown out the giggles that come from Hunk and Pidge’s side of the couch. Forget the keycard. It’s not worth this pain. “Bye. I hope you all have a terrible day.”

They are unfazed by his words, grinning like madmen as they wave. He stalks out of the room, shoulders hunched all the way to his ears as he desperately tries to block out the kissy noises Pidge is making. He can’t believe there was a time he was worried that they would be out of his life; he must have been having an existential crisis or something because this is a new level of embarrassing.

He’s so consumed in his thoughts that he nearly barrels into Shiro on his way out. It’s only the steady grip of his automated arms that Keith doesn’t crack his head against the doorframe and give himself a concussion.

“Whoa there. You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m just…”

“Looking for this?”

There, dangling from Shiro’s prosthetic fingers, is a familiar key card.

Keith lets out a deep breath, a whisper of relief cooling down the anxious fire within him by a few degrees. He sends his oldest friend a strained smile and takes them. “Yeah, thanks. Where did you find them?”

“Under the couch with one of my shoes, the holoscreen remote, Hunk’s headband, and Allura’s earrings. It seems like Kosmo’s starting a life of crime.”

He lets out a chuckle, unraveling just a little less. “I should probably put a stop to that.”

Shiro nods, patting his back in that sorta awkward, manly sort of way. It’s encouraging and he steps past the other man with a deep breath. Feeling more like himself, he secures the key card to his belt loop and turns to head down the corridor, promising himself that he’ll only start running when there’s no one to catch him doing it.

“Oh, Keith?”

Keith whips around, nerves already reinflating. “Yeah?”

Shiro fails to keep his smile in check. “Have fun on your date.”

And before he can even begin to retaliate, the door is sliding shut and he’s left there, standing in an empty hallway, red to his tips.

Lance looks nice. Really nice. Really, really, really nice. It’s actually a little distracting how nice he looks.

They had met up at the east end of the loading docks and Keith had fought to keep his cool when he had spotted the tall form of his fellow paladin casually leaning against a security rail. His white v-neck and ripped jeans contrasted with the industrial setting, his denim jacket faded and adorned with a couple of pins, sleeves rolled up to showcase the collection of beaded bracelets wrapped around his left wrist. But what had truly pulled it all together was the smile he had sent Keith upon noticing him.

“Hey,” he says.

“Hi,” Lance returns. “You clean up good, Mullet.”

The compliment flusters him a little and he nearly walks straight into a support beam, only just managing to avoid it with a side-step that brings him close enough to brush shoulders with Lance. “Thanks. You, uh, you too.”

Unsure of what to say next, he ducks his head and leads them to the area the coordinator had assigned him when he had called in the favor. Section A-26 is large and the usual aircraft that docks there is nowhere to be seen; instead, there his hoverbike sits, scavenged from the Blue Lion’s cave and restored to its previous glory. He hoists himself up into the seat with practiced ease and looks down at Lance expectantly.

Pink tints the other boy’s cheeks, but there’s this mischievous smile on his face as he asks, “Why do you get to drive?”

“Because I’m the one that knows where we’re going.”

“Wow, you actually have a plan. Um, okay, then where are we going? Or is that top secret?” He bounces where he stands, looking for all the word: giddish.

“It wasn’t until you asked.”

Lance looks pleased at the response and climbs up behind Keith.

The hoverbike dips a little at the uneven dispersion of weight and he offers his hand as a brace, blushing faintly when it’s taken. But thankfully, Lance doesn’t see, focused as he is on swinging a leg over the seat and scooting close enough to Keith that his chest brushes sparingly at his back. Then hands are wrapping around his middle, loose, and it’s embarrassing how responsive Keith’s body is to the touch, rolling in one long shiver that’s unmistakable. If Lance notices he doesn’t comment on it.

“Ready to roll,” he says, breath ghosting over the shell of his ear.

Keith puts on the goggles hidden in the front compartment and passes the extra pair he brought to his back seat passenger. Then it’s a matter of twisting the throttle and feeling the engine come to life beneath them, four hundred pounds of metal under his control. And it’s like it was just yesterday he was speeding across the desert with Shiro, tasting freedom for the first time, his hands gripping the handles like they were always meant to; the circumstance has changed but the feeling hasn’t and Keith, with the luxury knowing that he’s got time on his side, grins and drives.

“Woah!” Lance exclaims when Keith tears out of the loading docks, erupting into laughter when they take a sharp turn at the gates of the Garrison compound and startle the men stationed there.

Then it’s just the open desert road, flat and red-tinged. The torrid heat follows at their backs, rolling alongside tumbleweeds and whistling in the wind that buffets the nose of the hoverbike. Dust swirls under the speeder's anti-gravity fenders, curling over the shadowy silhouettes of cacti that they fly past. It brings the beds of the distance buttes into startling focus, massive against the clear sky and infinite horizon.

It takes twenty minutes to get to their destination.

Keith parks at the outskirts of the town nearest to the Galaxy Garrison, waiting for Lance to dismount before following. Their shoulders brush a bit as they stand side by side, Keith eyeing Lance as he eyes their surroundings curiously. The town market is already in full swing, tents set up and people bustling about, buying and selling wares; already, more than one individual behind a stand is calling out to them, offering a discount if they buy in bulk.

“I thought we could walk around a bit?” he says, hoping that the idea isn't too lame. “And after—well, there’s an arcade in the plaza a few streets down and they’ve got pizza.”

His fears are unfounded because Lance just grins. "Pizza not made out of green goo? Count me in."

Things go smoothly after that. The anxiety bubbling in Keith’s chest eases and it allows him the strength to grab Lance’s sleeve and tug him in the direction of a tent hosting a repository of wind chimes. From tent to tent, they go; browsing at board games from planets even they haven’t been to, giggling over misspelled words on shirts, daring each other to try gross-looking foods and petting every dog they see.

And it’s… fun. Keith is having fun.

Lance is great. He’s nice and funny and smart and actually seems to enjoy hanging out with Keith. He nods along when Keith speaks, insanely attentive, and offers his own input with great enthusiasm. They bicker too, playful jabs volleyed back and forth, easy and natural like it never was in the beginning but is now. And although Keith has never thought himself to be an overly funny guy, he finds that pulling a laugh out of his fellow paladin isn’t all that hard and even sort of a reward on all on its own.

It’s like they fit, slotting together like puzzle pieces—or flashes.

“Hey, Keith?” Lance’s hand finds Keith’s elbow. He had discarded his jacket just before they started eating, which is doing nothing to help the hot flush rushing to the apple of his cheeks. The corded muscles of forearms on display is near impossible to ignore and Keith’s eyes follow the dips and curves of his arm, the hard muscle leading up to his shoulder, the soft line of his neck, the defined jawline. “Your fries are getting cold.”

It’s the touch that has him pulling out of the confines of his thoughts, physically shaking his head and straightening his shoulders, not wanting to appear anything less than invested.

Naturally, the world seems to think Keith can’t have a single nice thing without a price because it’s just a few minutes into their meal that his phone starts to blow up with messages. A quick glance shows that most are from his mother, with a few from Shiro sprinkled in intermittently. All of the messages are ones of encouragement, some having been sent while they were driving and others steadily ignored when the two had browsed the stalls of the market.

Eventually all the small pings get to be enough that Keith has to silence his phone.

“You’re really popular today,” Lance notes, slathering an alarming amount of ranch onto his pizza. It’s only when he drowns the unsuspecting slice that he catches Keith’s surprised and guilty look that he elaborates, “Dude, your phone has been lighting up all day. I’d be blind not to notice.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s cool.”

Still, Keith feels the need to explain. “It’s Shiro and my mom. They’re… checking up on me.”

That gets a light laugh out of Lance. He brings out his own phone, showing Keith the mass of notifications on his lock screen. “I get that. I’ve gotten at least five texts asking if you’re secretly an axe murderer. I hope three years in space is enough time to confidently say that I wasn’t lying when I told them you weren’t. Would really put a damper on the day.”

“I don’t even own an axe.”

Lance’s grin grows and when he puts away his phone to continue eating, he doesn’t reclaim the few inches of space he had given away in order for Keith to see the screen. Their elbows knock a few times, but Keith doesn’t mind.

They leave the plaza in a good mood, making their way back to the hoverbike while they talk about nothing and everything. They only stop when they mount the vehicle and when Lance doesn’t ask Keith where they’re going he decides that he doesn’t want the day to be over quite yet, so he revs the throttle and heads toward the direction he knows his shack is. He eventually leads them to a hill that he and his father used to frequent when he was younger, an escape from the world long before the stars were something to shoot for.

It’s an easy hike up the hill and when they settle by the edge, their pinkies are touching.

“You can’t do that,” he says on their fourth game of tic-tac-toe when Lance brushes the dirt and erases his wobbly X, shifting it over a spot so that it blocks Keith’s next move. “That’s cheating.”

“No, Keithy boy, that’s what I call winning.”

“This isn’t a competition.”

“Isn’t it?” Que pursed lips and a sly side-eye. “If it’s not, then why did you dress up for today, huh? Trying to one up me in style too?”

“This is what I usually wear.”

“Pah-lease. Like I don’t know Shiro’s handiwork when I see it. Dude’s got an eye for colors and he did you a solid keeping with the red. Bet he put up such a fuss when you kept the fingerless gloves—they scream embarrassing scene phase that never really went away.” Lance laughs when he doesn’t immediately counter the accusation and it must fuel him because he continues. “I bet you were upset when you couldn’t find any eyeliner for our date—”

As if struck by lightning, Keith straightens.

“—probably used it all up making yourself look like an edgy, space raccoon going to some street race—”

Our date, Lance had said. He had called this a date. They were on a date right now. Officially. The two of them, together.

“—being emo. But, I mean, whatever works, you know? Sometimes you just gotta paint your nails black and—mmph!”

Keith’s kiss lands on his upper lip, hard and dry.

It’s quick, over and done within a matter of seconds. Lips tingling and heart hammering, Keith pulls back, soul leaving his suddenly flushed body when he realizes he can still feel the other’s breath on his face. He must remain in his catatonic state for longer than he realizes because then Lance’s giving him this particular frown and saying, “What was that?”

With nothing else to do, he shrugs helplessly. “It was a kiss.”

“I know what a kiss is.” Eyes search his. “Why did you kiss me? ”

“I wanted to,” he says simply. “Was that not okay?”

“No, that wasn’t… No, it was cool.”

“Cool,” Keith repeats.

Lance scratches the back of his neck. “Yeah. I liked it.”

“Me too,” he adds, looking down. A good portion of their game has been accidentally wiped away and he redraws it, purposefully putting all the X’s and O’s in their respective spots before Lance had decided to remake the rules. He nudges the other boy’s foot with his own, biting back a smile when they’re hooked together. “We can, um, stay here? If you want?”

“I’d like that.”

They stay long enough to watch the sun dip under the horizon.

As dates go, it’s the best he’s ever had.

Later, when he’s home and high off the promise of a second date, he walks into the kitchen to find his friends congregated despite the late hour.

“So,” Allura starts as soon as he walks in, boots loud on the linoleum floor, trying to appear casual as she leans against the counter and just failing. It doesn’t help that the space mice are nearly tripping over her hair as they peer at Keith from over her shoulder, adding four tiny pairs of eyes to the many already scrutinizing his every move. “You’re back awfully late.”

Romelle is no better, inspecting her nails even as her ears twitch in his direction. “Yes, how did it go?”

There’s a plate of cookies on the island counter, comically shaped like the lions and dressed in an assortment of colors. He picks up the only red one on top and bites into it, humming at its surprising sweetness. Knowing his audience still expects an answer, he attempts an aloof shrug and nails it. “It was fine.”

There’s a pause and Keith can tell something is coming. He doesn’t know what exactly, but the warning signs are all there, flashing neon when Allura steeples her fingers and gives him a look.

“And the other… thing?”

“What other thing?”

“Why your kiss with Lance, of course.”

He nearly drops the sweet in his hand and immediately goes to look through the kitchen pass-through, spotting the rumpled state of the pillows and blankets by the living room window looking out to the barrack’s hallway. That and the smudge of chocolate on the window sill, coupled with the candy wrappers sticking out of Pidge’s hoodie pouch, can only mean one thing. “Were you watching?”

“No,” Romelle and Hunk immediately deny just as Allura and Pidge say, “Yes.”

Keith fumbles for a plausible reaction. His friends had undoubtedly seen the goodbye kiss that had been exchanged between him and Lance when the latter had insisted on walking him home; it had been a memorable kiss and Keith had maybe lost himself to it for longer than he’s willing to admit, but that’s something else entirely. A little helplessly, he searches the room for a means of end for this absolute embarrassment. He finds none. “That’s—I can’t believe—uncool!”

“Lance texted me almost immediately after,” Hunk offers, as if that makes up for his eavesdropping and then denial of said eavesdropping. “He hasn’t stopped talking about how you sprung one on him. You don’t really beat around the bush, do you?”

Shiro, the traitor, nods. He ignores Keith’s death glare and takes a sip of his tea, eyes crinkling with mirth over the rim of his mug. “Keith has always been very straightforward in what he wants. A real go-getter.”

It’s at that time that Coran makes an appearance, dressed in an obnoxiously orange pajama set with a matching hat, but any hope Keith has of the older man causing a distraction and, by default, a new topic change dissipates when he asks, “Oh, are we talking about Keith and Lance’s kiss? Congratulations Keith, I hear it had quite the impact.”

Pidge looks like she’s barely holding back a laugh. “Yeah, way to go in for the kill, Keith.”

“Can we stop talking about this?” He doesn’t wait for an answer. “Stop talking. Just stop talking. I don’t want to hear another word.”

Thankfully, they listen and grow quiet. It doesn’t stop the looks that are thrown his direction, especially with Allura nearly vibrating in her slippers in the effort to capture his gaze, but it’s easy to scowl and turn away. He snatches the drink Shiro holds, ignoring the other’s surprised whine, and takes a sip, ready to head to bed and purge this conversation from his mind, never to be brought up again—

“Did you use tongue?”

Keith chokes.

Hunk merely hums. “Yeah, didn’t look like it.”

Keith thought he knew what love was.

It had been an easy thing, once upon a time. It had been his dad’s hugs after a long day, the blade left to him from a mother he didn’t know, a pat on the back following a perfect maneuver from a brother he found. It was as simple as looking up at the sky and letting himself get lost, for space was everything he had ever wanted, vast and exciting and impossible. Constant and safe and easy, a look to the heavens that held every dream.

But this is new.

New in that he is utterly blindsighted and unprepared for when it happens. A change in heart, from wistful ache to hopeful relief, sudden in the wake of new love. Stitched together through time and soft words, it beats again. Thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thump, it goes, drumming loudly against his chest, swelling at touches that burn like supernovas, thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thump.

Even more goosebump-inducing than the fire in his chest is the response it gets. Because, startling enough, the feeling is reciprocated.

No words have been said but the thought is there. It comes through in the accidental brushes that turn to lingering caresses. It’s the stretch of an arm thrown over wide shoulders, heads dipped closer as casual words are exchanged. It’s the lack of space as they sit, thighs pressed firmly together and feet idly kicking. It’s the pluck of pink petals out of dark hair, absent-minded, curling in the breeze. It’s the hand pressed against a lower back, feather-light as it guides them closer and onward.

Everything is the same, but different.

Following the date, they are still Lance and Keith, still stubborn and opinionated and more than willing to call each other out, but now—now, they’re more. Keith can talk strategy for restoration while their hands are clasped under the table; can steal a kiss during a spar and, while the other is distracted, sweep his legs right out from underneath him and ensure his victory; can argue the integrity of putting pineapple on pizza for three hours while cuddled under Lance’s arm; and can even sneak the boy into his room when Shiro and his mom are out on call, leaving the door closed and the lights off. He’s allowed to do these things—encouraged, even, if Lance's pleased as punch looks are anything to go by—to look, to touch, to hold. It’s a recently discovered niche in which they fall into, each eager to explore, and once they find their line, Lance makes a point of tiptoeing it. And Keith—well, Keith can't find it in himself to complain.

(“Like this,” the Lance of his flashes murmurs to him one night as he gets ready for bed—only for the words to be spoken again three days later as they curl into each other on the beat-up couch in his shack. “I like it like this.”)

Life shapes into something remarkable in the days of after. It becomes a certainty that the flashes had promised and Keith sometimes can’t believe it, that he gets this. Gets this and more. Because not that long ago, he had nothing—he was nothing—scraping by, sneering at everything he couldn’t have just to hide how it hurt to be denied the love he so desperately craved. But that’s the past and though it shapes him, it is not him. He is here, today, and soon, tomorrow too.

Tomorrow and every day that comes after.

In a menagerie of light, meteor showers and space whales, Keith dreams.

Even so long apart, the abyss is a physical thing inside him. It curls inside in the space behind his heart while he sleeps, coveting each heartbeat like a dragon to a horde; time does not exist in this plane and each heart beat, a remembrance to what he has lived through and what he will live through, is too enticing to pass up. It croons out a soft lullaby, asking for one last look.

Keith gives it.

It’s the sand between his toes and lips meeting his own, sun-warm and pliant to the lazy breeze. It’s the hot puff of breath at his neck while frantic hands explore. It’s the ring on his finger and the sip of champagne, glasses clinking in a toast made. It’s the weight of a child on his chest, calm and innocent, snoring lightly as a small hand fists his shirt. It’s the dip of a mattress every night, for the rest of his nights.

Keith wakes up and knows that’s the last flash he’ll ever have.

On the first day of the rest of his life Lance challenges Keith to a race.

It’s not the first time one of them has issued such a dare and it surely won’t be a last, but Keith still treats it like it’s the most important thing he’s ever done. He squares his shoulder and steps up to the plate, toe to toe, staring Lance in the eye as he accepts. It’s like old times, even with the newness between them, rearing up in the deliberate way Lance tilts his head, chin jutting out in that stubborn fashion of his, the crook of his eyebrow and the curl of his lips dangerous in ways Keith is only just getting used to.

Nevertheless, the day finds them back at the loading docks, convincing the Atlas crew to let them borrow another speeder. When Keith has signed the proper paperwork he turns to find Lance already seated on one of the hoverbikes. The red one.

Keith squints and Lance grins, but lets it go with a soft huff. He walks over to the gray bike and hoists himself with little effort, straddling the sleek seat and making himself familiar with the controls.

“Ready?” he asks once he's done.

“Born ready,” is Lance’s answer.

And, well, Keith can't let a challenge like that stand.

Without further ado, he revs the engine and shoots down the catwalk. He hears the beginning of a surprised squawk before the wind is boxing his ears, tugging at his hair, chasing away everything until it is just him and the road.

Flying is in his blood. It’s been a part of him since as long as he can remember. It was there when he sat atop his father’s shoulders, arms spread wide and leaning back as far as he dared, staring up, up, up. Fondly, he recalls the way big hands had grasped his tiny ankles and the voice, deep and honest, quoting, Once you have tasted flight, you will forever walk the earth with your eyes turned skyward, for there you have been, and there you will always long to return.

He had been too young to understand the words then, but he thinks he understands them now.

Though the most air he gets this time around is a particularly steep ledge over a slim ravine a quarter of a mile east from Galaxy Garrison property, it still feels the same. Like he’s taking a deep breath for the first time, lungs expanding until he is weightless, free. Free to be who he is, even if that is a boy quick to anger and slow to love.

And Keith likes who he is now. Likes who he can be—with Krolia, with Shiro and the team, with Lance.

In the end, Keith wins the race.

It’s a close call and his heart races at the thought of it. Because Lance is grinning that absurd grin, eyes crinkling with the force of it, and his hair is a mess, windblown and highlighted gold by the sun. The white shirt that clings to him is twisted and Lance makes a halfhearted effort to fix it as he quiets his hoverbike’s engine and starts talking in compensation, mouth moving a mile a minute.

“I almost had you at that last bend,” he is saying, leaning back in his seat so that his torso is one sleek slant. “I shouldn't have hesitated on the acceleration—I guess I’m just not an adrenaline junkie like you, but hey, now that I know the angle, it’ll be different. So I say we go around again. Two out of three wins. Loser has to help Coran clean the—Keith? Hello? Are you even listening to me?”

It’s not a flash, but it feels like one.

“Keith?” Shoulders rise as Lance angles his head to catch his gaze, honest concern coloring those beautiful eyes. They aren’t that close, hovebikes parked perpendicular to one another, but he swears he can see the universe reflecting in dark navy. Planets colliding and forming, spinning in orbit around a dilated pupil. “Hey, man, what’s wr— ”

“Date me.”

The words are out of his mouth before he has time to really think about them and what they mean.

Lance splutters. “What?”

But now that the idea has been introduced. Keith can't deny its appeal; to keep what they have, in all its stubborn sincerity and wild attraction, going for as long as they live. Perhaps even further than that. “Date me,” he says again, with more conviction. A pause. “Please. Please date me.”

A moment, then—

“You just have to beat me at everything, don't you?” Lance starts, loud enough to be considered yelling, but having none of the thunderous anger usually associated with the volume. “Can't even give me this one thing, can you? Well, the joke’s on you—cause it was going to be great! I had everything planned out and it was going to be the most romantic thing ever! Would've blown this disaster out of the water, I'm telling you!” He stands and, uncaring of the wobble it gives under his weight, marches purposefully across the wing of his bike until they’re parallel to one another. One of his hands waves madly about, flying across the entire range of their surroundings before gesturing to Keith himself. “Candles and rose petals everywhere! Hunk was gonna cook something nice and we would've danced and—and you were gonna swoon! Straight into my arms! There would've been kissing and everything! The whole shebang!”

Keith furrows his eyebrows, lost. “What?”

But Lance blows past his confusion and slumps to the side in an expulsion of energy, mumbling, “God, you're such a jerk.”

Hands move to grip the front of his shirt, the only warning before the entire weight of his maybe-boyfriend is forced upon him. Keith feels the wisp of eyelashes fluttering against the column of his neck as Lance smooshes his nose into the junction there, mumbling words and noises he can't hope to translate. He returns the clumsy embrace automatically, winding his arms around the other’s waist and resting his cheek on a soft, brown crown of hair.

“So… yes?”

Lance laughs a watery laugh, deliriously happy, and leans back to stare him straight in the eye, a whirlwind of blue caught in a crystal ball of stars. The grip on his shirt loosens, fingers trailing up his chest until they tease the nape of his neck. “Of course it's a yes, you absolute loser.”

Keith frowns even as his heart sings, melody erupting into fireworks so loud he might go deaf. “See, it's stuff like that last part that really mix me up.”

“Oh my gosh, just shut up and kiss me.”

So he does.

Time, like most things in Keith’s life, is something he keeps close.

[whatusernameshouldieven]

✧･ﾟ:* You and I  *:･ﾟ✧*

Genre: fiancé au, fluff

Pairing: Fiancé!Choi San x Foreigner!Reader ;)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

⇰ Chapter 2: A New Place

★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★ ・・・・・・・

“Good work everyone! I expect the same performance for our meeting next week.”, You slightly nodded, as you held bunch of files in your hands. Standing in middle of the table, you gazed down at your workers or assistants in an authoritative way. Your  hair was slightly braided back from the side in order to prevent any hair strands to be in the way when you leaned down. You preferred it this way because you would often get irritated because of it. Your face wasn’t fully exposed, luckily, you had made bangs recently to add a youthful touch. 

“Yes!”, all of the workers said in unison, welcoming back the enthusiasm of your voice. You softly smiled, “Dismissed.”

Chatters began to fill up the place as the opening and closing of the office door could be heard. As the chattering died down to complete silence, you let out a heavy sigh of relieving stress. you bit your lip, keeping yourself from cringing at her overly tight office outfit which was decided by the upper boss a week ago, as you massaged your right shoulder with your hands. Letting your massaging hand fall, you use it to fix your bangs back to their side-parted position. 

“I seriously need to talk to the upper boss with this overly...tight outfit. That greasy old pervert, I swear!”, you talked in mid-silence. It was overly tight and showy. The white shirt that hugged your curves almost too tightly, and the black skirt which was almost too short. At least, you wore black leggings from showing your skin. “But...these leggings aren’t helping me much.”

You groaned under stress as you walked to your office desk to grab your phone on it. 

9:40 PM

“What? Already? Geez...I can’t believe I waste my time working all day.”, You complained as you slipped your phone into the small pocket of the black skirt. You grab your black blazer hanging on your chair as you exit the office.

You close the door behind you, and proceeds to lock it in order to prevent thieves. You trusted no one in this company, and you sure knew you had some juicy enemies behind your back. The problem was you didn’t know who exactly. But--that is to find out later not now.

“Ms. Y/N.”

You glanced to your side to catch a glimpse of a handsome young blue-haired male. An unusual color it was, it looked good to a selected few, and you had to admit he was rocking this color. You turn back to to the lock on the door, as you finish locking it. Holding onto the door knob and twisting it for confirmation.

“Hongjoong, I’ve told you thousand times to call me just Y/N.”, You chuckled as you turned to your side to face the male.

The male had a perfect v-shaped face which seemed to be popular among Koreans, you were jealous at the exact angle of it. He had round eyes which got million times more attractive when he flashed his pearl white perfect teeth. He had a sharp up-turned nose. A very sharp and striking face in particular.

Hongjoong returned the chuckle, “Ah yes, how could I forget? However, it’s quite odd to refer to someone with such an authoritative position with their first name.” Hongjoong smiled, wrinkles forming at the corners of his eyes-- nothing like those old-grandpa types of wrinkles though. You were almost staring too long at them, shameful of you.

You shrugged, “Doesn’t make me above you or superior though? Anyways, what is it?”

The smile fell on his face as he turned quite stern, “Ah yes. The upper boss told me to inform you that there will be a meeting with the ambassadors this Friday. He also told me to tell you he expects the best of your performance, it seems like this deal is very crucial for our next act.”

You sighed dramatically as you threw your shoulders, “Great! More stress! That scumbag is always overworking me.”

Hongjoong was slightly taken back by the sudden informal language from the usual polite Ms. Y/N, but still kept a small smile. It showed that the usual charming appearance of you was still human in some ways. You rolled your eyes in the thought of attending the meeting, but showed a smile of gratitude, “Thank you, Hongjoong, you saved my ass.”

Hongjoong shook his head, “Oh no, Ms-- Y/N. It’s my pleasure. You work harder than any of us, it’s the least I can do.”

You let out an impressed expression, “Wow. Your future partner will be very lucky to have you.”

“Oh.”, Hongjoong blushed, feeling overwhelmed by the compliment as he shook his head, “I don’t plan on marrying any time soon.” 

You were surprised. A young handsome and capable man like Hongjoong could get any girl he wants in his palms, what was stopping him? He was dedicated and passionate about his goals, his works. His hard works was even admirable to the upper boss and to you yourself. Countless time he showed his responsible side when you procrastinated, saving you from getting fired.

“WHAT?”

Hongjoong flinched at the sudden loud noise.

“Sorry--”, You cleared your throat, “What, why?”

“Well, I have a lot of ambitions and right now, my focus is on them.”, Hongjoong smiled with confidence. You couldn’t help but admire him, it put you to shame. Even if you were in a higher position in a company, this male, was way above you in morals and spirit. You wanted to mentally cry and bawl your eyes out in shame but you had to keep your facade of authority. “I see, I hope you achieve them.”

“Thank you.”, from the look on his face, you could tell he was touched.

“Uh yeah, I must leave now. See you tomorrow Hongjoong!”, You did a small wave as Hongjoong nodded.

_____________________________________________________________________________

You stopped in your tracks as you held your phone in your right hand, making sure your fingers were at all sides of your phone so it wouldn’t just slip and fall. You raised your face as you were standing in front of a golden gardenvale gate with bars. It made your frame look small almost towering over you in an intimidating way. But that wasn’t what made you stop in your tracks.

The huge mansion beyond the gate caught you off guard. The lights seemed to be turned on, as the mansion was accompanied by a beautiful garden. You wondered if it was even legal to have such a big house. You also wondered if google maps had led you to the right place. If your mother were to be beside you right now, she would be absolutely fangirling at the modern design of the house. 

“Do you have a business here, miss?” You wandering in your mind was cut off as you heard a masculine voice ring beyond the gate.

There was a guard dressed in black suit with black shades to add the touch of the oh-so mysterious vibe, in front of her. He was bald, and seemed to be in his 40s. 

You were scared. Despite leading group meeting and being proud of your authoritative position, you were also socially awkward at these random times. “Um...Choi San...told me to come here?” Your voice raised in uncertainty at the end, scared of the validation it was going to receive.

The guard nodded, “Master sent you? You must be Choi Y/N.” 

CHOI Y?N?

“No--I’m--”

“Master talks a lot about you, please come in. He’s expecting you.”, the guard opened up the gate as you stepped in, feeling as if you were violating the place. Stepping your feet into the foreign land, it seemed like you came to a whole another country. Beyond the gates, it was a whole different atmosphere. You felt important, you felt like a royal. To be standing in front of such a mansion, it made you feel proud in a way. Oh, how lucky you were to have a rich best friend-- oh fiancé.

“Please follow me, miss.”, the guard speaks, almost making you laugh because he was going out of his way to sound friendly. The guard began to walk to the grand main door of the mansion, as you followed behind him like a lost puppy trapped in some wonderland. You mentally facepalmed on the choices of the shoes you wore, as the made melodious CLICK CLACK sounds.

From the corner of your eyes, since the guard was way taller than her, you saw two another guards beside the grand door opening the door for both of you. Your  eyes widened, once again, were you at the right place?! There would obviously be more than one Choi San-- oh but only this one knows my name!

“On the second floor, take right as you go up the stairs and turn right again. Keep walking and you’ll meet master in his room.”, the guard informed, bowing as he left immediately.

You  panicked inside the grand mansion. How the heck were you supposed to navigate at the place?! You thought the guard would stick with you until you arrived face-to-face with San! You were blinded by the whiteness of the walls, the redness of the wide carpet beneath your feet which led all the way above the stairs, the glittering golden chandelier on the ceiling, the huge windows which highlighted the view of the garden, and just the hugeness of the place. The place was sparkling in your eyes, as you smelled the fresh scent of lavender inside the house.

Choi San was one hell of a lucky fellow to live his entire life in such a place, where you lived in a normal house. You began to feel the polar oppositeness, were you even great enough for him at this point? Would his parent acknowledge a normal young women?

You began to climb up the stairs as you apologized mentally for stepping on the beautiful red carpet every time. As you reached the second floor, you took right and was greeted by another path to take. Recalling what the guard said, you took right again, now being greeted by labyrinth of halls. You hugged herself in brace of the unknown, as the finally reached of the end of this particular hallway. Now standing in front of the ominous door.

Should you knock? You gulped holding your hand to your chest. Gosh...why am I nervous over something like this? You scolded herself. You gripped the door knob and slammed the door open, “CHOI SAN!”

The door open to reveal a marvelous wonder. There stood the man she expected, looking so ethereal beneath the blue hint of the moonlight which reached from the huge window behind him as the white curtains made him look like he had wings with the pattern they flowed with. His black swept back hair seemed extra soft today as a strand of it fell in front of his forehead. 

Your breath was caught in your throat, to your luck, this was not like any of those scene where the man would be shirtless. To your sanity, he had a sleeveless shirt on. However, the fact that his muscular arms were on sight did not do you any good. He has been working out, you realized but mentally slapped yourself for making it even worse for yourself. 

“Uhm…”, you let out awkwardly, “Surprise?...” You braced for the worst.

San’s shocked expression soften up as he walks over to you, gently dragging you inside by the hold on your wrist. He makes sure to close the door behind you as he stares down at you with the same gentle gaze he would always provide you. In the perspective of you, you were buffering all over again. While San was doing his best to be gentle as possible, you were overheating like a computer system.

“Y/N… ”, your name came out so tender from his sweet voice, “You’re here.”

“Was I not supposed to?” San smiled noticing the same sarcastic attitude of his best friend to be back once again, “No, you’re at the right place. It’s very late though…” San tilted his head, pouting.

“You think I don’t realize? Let me tell you how my upper boss is such a pain in the BUTT and that I had to do some extra work today-- Nevermind… it’s going to be long.”

San listened attentively, as he nodded in sympathy. He gently took hold of your blazer and took it off, “You still work under him? We are going to marry soon, I don’t think you would need a job, honestly.” San walked towards one of the sofas in the room, as he folded the blazer in a neat pattern then placing it on it. 

You watched San’s figure stand tall once again and turn towards your direction. “Oh please, I can’t depend on your money even if we are married.”

“Okay, anyway, where am I staying?”, you looked around, eyes scanning the marvelous room. A wide sofa with a royal-looking table. A king-size bed in the middle of the room with beautiful white sheets with the hint of yellow. A huge window which led to a relaxing balcony, which had its own set of chair and tables outside. You wondered how many of these type of rooms this place had. 

You raised an eyebrow when you heard a chuckle. “What?”, you asked, genuinely curious. 

San walked over to you as he placed his arm beside your head, trapping you against the door. He leaned down slightly to have a eye-contact with you, as his eyes were now tender as ever. You yelped as your back was now fully against the door, without knowing, both of your hands against your chest too. You stared back into his eyes, looking like a prey. 

“You are already in your room though?”, San almost whispered, his voice so low and sweet which made your heart do things. The window error notifications ran inside your head multiple times, along with the loading symbol.

That wasn’t what you had heard. If you remembered correctly, the guard did mention that this was, in fact , San’s room. “What? Isn’t this your room? The guard told me that.” Deep down, you knew what San meant, but you had to go with the oblivious card.

“Don’t pretend to be innocent.” San’s sweet sugary voice traced your heart like the texture of silk, pleasant. “Don’t you ever think about this?” “W-What?...”, you gasped as San leaned down to your neck, his hot breath tickling your skin. San continued, “How a lot of times you are alone with a man who is way taller than you and can overpower you anytime? How like this-”

You let out another gasp when San slammed another one of his hands beside your face, now completely keeping you under him. “--I can take advantage of you anytime?” 

You looked up into San’s dominant eyes burning with passion and expectation. Your gaze was fragile, almost too innocent for San to handle. Truth to be told, it was eating him alive inside. With an appearance of a delicious bunny you had, San felt like a wolf who could devour you any moment. Domination ran inside his blood, traveling all over his body, taking over him.

“I… San... “, You averted your eyes from his gaze. You couldn’t handle the intensity. 

That gave San the answer. Not yet, it was too early for him to have you. You were far too fragile at the moment. You couldn't handle his intense side. Well, not yet anyway.

San steps back, causing a gap to appear in between them as he releases you. You finally take the moment to breath, trying to control the rapid explosive heartbeat in your chest. You dug holes on the ground with your eyes, as your face was far too red not to notice in the moonlight. You played with your fingers like a little child.

San ruffled his slicked back hair, causing his messy bangs to appear, “We should rest, tomorrow is a day off for you right?” San’s arm falls on his sight as he waits for an answer. 

“Yeah…”, Your voice comes out shyly, as you looked above with the same helpless expression. 

San nods, “Yup, alright.”

He begins to walk to one side of the bed, while you immediately walk to the other side of it. San yawns as he stretches his arms above for a brief moment, only to reach the bottom of his shirt and pull it all the way up. Taking his shirt off, he throws it across to the sofa hitting the perfect shot. 

Your face flushed even more as you tried to not focus on his physical self, you turn around instead. “Oh, how rude of me.”, San spoke as you felt footsteps coming closer to your form. You turn around, meeting the sight of his bare topless self as you tried to normalize the view. Your eyes soon traveled to the shirt he was holding in his hands, the shirt he wore a moment ago.

“It’s going to be uncomfortable to sleep in that tight dress, sleep in this for today. We’ll get your stuff tomorrow, okay?” San tilted his head for confirmation, as you just nodded not being able to form words. 

San hands you his shirt as he turns around to give you some privacy.

You unbutton your shirt, and unzips the side of the skirt. Slipping the skirt down your legs, you reach down on it and fold it in a perfect pattern. You placed it on the side table of the bed, and proceeds to take your white shirt off, repeating the same set of action. You stare at the shirt San gave it to you, it seemed like a simple grey sleeveless shirt with no tricks visible whatsoever. You slips into it very easily, as the shirt falls until some centimeters above your knees. 

“I’m done.”, You said, as San turns around to face you once again. He examines Arsh’s form and smiles once again, like a lovesick puppy. You playfully hit him on the shoulder, “Stop staring!” “Can’t help it. This is the first time you wore my clothes.”

You rolled your eyes but smile. You then climbs on the bed, pulling the sheet above you. You sighed in relaxation as you feel the soft mattress beneath your body. It was like a safe haven. San travels to the other side and gets on the bed, adjusting himself to lay on it. He turns to you with a lazy smile, as you glances at his lazy expression. 

“You know you’re so weird today.”, You spoke as you fully laid down, eyeing San, “What’s even weirder is that I’m sharing a bed with someone who I recently got engaged to...and who is also one of my close friends.”

“Are you complaining?”, San raised an eyebrow. “No.”, You replied honestly, “Why would I? It’s all perfect…” You fell quiet for a moment. 

San extends his muscular arms, reminding you once again that he was topless. you panicked inside slightly as you were pulled close to San’s warmth. “Don’t act surprised, you know my sleeping habit.” “I know, I know! I’m still a girl okay? You doing this makes me…”

“Do I make your heart beat fast?”, San asked as he wraps his arms around you, burying his face on the crook of your neck. You relaxed under his warm embrace, feeling his muscular body against yours. “Of course, idiot! I could die you know?”

“Stop being dramatic…”, San replied, lazilly. “Dramatic? I’m going to hit you and I don’t care if you are about to sleep.”, You threatened.

“I...you…”

“What?”

“Good night.”

“Choi San!”

[problematicwelshman]

Michael Sheen on Good Omens, sex scenes, and why Brexit led to his break-up

28 NOVEMBER 2018 • 4:18PM

Michael Sheen may be 49, and sporting a grey beard these days, but mention Martians and the actor reverts to a breathless, giddy teenager.

It all stems back to one evening when Sheen was about 12 years old. “It was a significant moment in my life,” he tells me over coffee in a London hotel. “My cousin Hugh was babysitting, and he put on Jeff Wayne’s War of the Worlds.

“I remember us lying there, listening in bed in the dark. It absolutely terrified me, but I got obsessed with it. I’m worryingly into it. I know every single note, every word.”

Wayne’s 1978 rock opera has had a similar effect on countless fans, even if it prompts a bemused shrug from non-converts. Without ever topping the charts, it has slowly become one of the best-selling British albums of all time, and this Friday begins a stadium tour featuring a 35-foot fire-breathing Martian and a 3D hologram of Liam Neeson. It’s a geeky novelty, but one of epic proportions.

When Wayne asked Sheen if he would star in a new radio drama-style version for the album’s 40th anniversary, alongside Taron Egerton and Ade Edmondson, the Welsh actor “bit his hand off”. It had always been his dream. For decades, whether doing serious political dramas such as Frost/Nixon or the great roles of classical theatre – Hamlet, Henry V – the one part Sheen really wanted involved Martians saying “ulla-ulla”.

“When I was doing Caligula at the Donmar [in 2003], I was filming The Deal during the day – which was the first time I’d played Tony Blair,” he says. “I’d be so tired, to wake myself up [before the play] I would do whole sections of War of the Worlds.” He can even beatbox the sound effects, he adds proudly. “The other guys in the dressing room would all be really pissed off with me - but I was playing Caligula, so they had to put up with it.”

Enthusing about an outtake on a collectors version of the album where you can hear Richard Burton coughing, Sheen briefly slips into an impression of the late actor. It’s eerily spot-on. Burton played the role he takes in the new version, which feels apt; growing up in Port Talbot, Sheen was aware of following in his footsteps.

“Coming from the same town as him really helped,” he says. “It’s place you wouldn’t necessarily think would be very sympathetic to acting – it’s an old steel town, very working class, quite a macho place – but because of Richard Burton, and then Anthony Hopkins, there’s the sense that it’s possible [to be an actor], and people have a respect for it.

“Ultimately, though, we’re very different actors - Burton was very much a charismatic leading man, and I’m probably more of a character actor. He wasn’t known for his versatility.” Sheen, by contrast, is a chameleon, as he proved with a remarkable run of biopics from 2006-9, playing Tony Blair, David Frost, Brian Clough, Kenneth Williams and the Roman emperor Nero on screen in the space of just four years.

He concedes that he may have made a “partly conscious” decision to avoid biopics since then. “I’ve been offered quite a few I didn’t do. I did feel, for a bit, it was probably good for me to move away from it – certainly from playing Blair at least, because that’s the one I became synonymous with. I’d quite happily play real people again, but it’s hard to find good scripts and it takes a lot of homework. With some parts I’ve been offered, you might only have a few weeks to prepare for it - and you can’t do that with Clough or Kenneth Williams.”

Despite his best intentions, Sheen is playing another Blair in his next film – The Voyage of Doctor Doolittle, where he’s the nemesis of Robert Downey Jr’s animal-loving hero. “I don’t know if they did that as a joke or not,” he says. “He’s Blair Müdfly – there’s an umlaut that he is very specific about. He was at college with Doolittle, and hates him, and becomes the antagonist because of his jealousy of Doolittle. Müdfly is employed to try and stop him from finding... what he wants to find.” As the film isn’t out for 13 months, Sheen is tight-lipped about further plot details – but he hints that Müdfly is “a villain in the tradition of Terry-Thomas villains.”

It’s the latest in a series of quirky, eyebrow-raising roles. After playing a vampire in the Twilight films and a werewolf in the Underworld franchise, Sheen says he would often be asked in interviews why a “serious classical actor” was wasting his time on fantasy films.

“There’s a lot of snobbishness about genre,” he says. “I think some of the greatest writing of the 20th and 21st centuries has happened in science fiction and fantasy.” While promoting the films, he would back up that point by citing his favourite authors – Stephen King, Philip K Dick, Neil Gaiman. “Time went on, and then one day my doorbell rang and there was a big box being delivered. I opened the box up and there was a card from Neil saying ‘From one fan to another’, and all these first editions of his books.”

It was the beginning an enduring friendship, which recently became a professional partnership: Sheen stars in Gaiman’s forthcoming TV series Good Omens, based on a 1990 novel he wrote with the late Terry Pratchett. Set in the days before a biblical apocalypse, its sprawling list of characters includes an angel called Aziraphale (Sheen) and a demon called Crowley (David Tennant) who have known each other since the days of Adam and Eve.

“I wanted to play Aziraphel being sort of in love with Crowley,” says Sheen. “They’re both very bonded and connected anyway, because of the two of them having this relationship through history - but also because angels are beings of love, so it’s inevitable that he would love Crowley. It helped that loving David is very easy to do.”

What kind of love - platonic, romantic, erotic? “Oh, those are human, mortal labels!” Sheen laughs. “But that was what I thought would be interesting to play with. There’s a lot of fan fiction where Aziraphale and Crowley get a bit hot and heavy towards each other, so it’ll be interesting to see how an audience reacts to what we’ve done in bringing that to the screen.”

Steamy fan fiction aside, it’s unlikely Good Omens will match the raunch levels of his last major TV series, Masters of Sex (2013-16), a drama about the pioneering sexologists Masters and Johnson. In the wake of the last year’s #MeToo revelations, HBO has introduced “intimacy co-ordinators” for its shows - but, Sheen tells me, Masters of Sex was ahead of the curve in handling sex scenes with caution.

“It was a lot easier for myself and Lizzy [Caplan, his co-star], as we were comfortable in that set-up, because we had status in it. But for people in the background, or doing just one scene, it’s different,” he says. “It became clear very quickly that there needed to be guidelines for people who didn’t have that kind of status, who would probably not speak up. We started talking about that, and decided there need to be clear rules.”

Sex scenes, he continues, “should absolutely be treated the same way as other things where there’s a danger. If you’re doing stage-fighting, or pyrotechnics, there are rules and everyone just sticks to them. Whether it’s physical danger, or emotional, or psychological, it’s just as important.”

Despite having several film and TV parts on the horizon, Sheen says he is still in semi-retirement from acting. In 2016 he hinted that he might be quit for good to campaign against populism. “In the same way as the Nazis had to be stopped in Germany in the Thirties, this thing that is on the rise has to be stopped," he said at the time. But now things are less cut. “I have two jobs now, essentially,” he says. "Acting takes second place."

While many celebrity activists limit their politics to save-the-dolphins posturing, Sheen has been working with a range of unfashionable grassroots groups aiming to combat inequality, support small communities and fight fake news. As well as supporting Welsh credit unions, and sponsoring a women’s football team in the tiny village of Goytre, he tells me that he's been “commissioning research into alternative funding models for local journalism”.

If he returns to the stage any time soon, he says it’s likely to be in a show about “political historical socio-economic stuff, a one-man show with very low production values”. It’s clear he’s not in it for the glamour.

Sheen was inspired to become more politically active by the Brexit referendum – which also indirectly led him to break up with his partner of four years, the comedian Sarah Silverman. At the time, they were living together in the US. “We both had very similar drives, and yet to act on those drives pulled us in different directions – because she is American and I’m Welsh,” he explains.

“After the Brexit vote, and the election where Trump became president, we both felt in different ways we wanted to get more involved. That led to her doing her show I Love You America [in which Silverman interviewed people from across the political spectrum], and it led to me wanting to address the issues that I thought led some people to vote the way they did about Brexit, in the area I come from and others like it.”

They still speak lovingly of each other, which makes their decision to end a happy relationship for the sake of politics look painfully quixotic. Talking about it, Sheen sounds a little wistful, but he’s utterly certain they made the right choice. “I felt a responsibility to do something, but it did mean coming back here – which was difficult for us, because we were very important to each other. But we both acknowledge that each of us had to do what we needed to do.”

[gerbiloftriumph]

So you wanna be a king (pt2)

(or at least cosplay one.)

Continuing the cosplay creation saga for anyone interested, here’s how I put together my King Graham cosplay:

Part 2: Jerkin 

Disclaimer: I’m totally novice at cosplay and only do it for like one event per year if that, so take what you will or throw it all away.

Also this is not really a step by step tutorial post because this is several years ago and the details are hazy.

If you’re following along, then you should have a cloak and cowl (click for sort-of-instructions-here). 

Step one: Pull out those reference screencaps you made in the first part and stare at them. Repeat that you still love this character and that you’re committed to this nonsense. Ready? Let’s go.

The long sleeved purple undershirt I just happened to find at Goodwill. Please try to find something lightweight--this costume is warm. 

But you won’t be so lucky to find a jerkin at Goodwill too. You’ll have to make it, or at least modify something.

Still, it’s just an elaborate brown tank top, more or less. You don’t even have to worry about attaching sleeves! Surely this is an eas--wait, what are those lace things? Could you even bend down to pick up inventory items with laces that thick and close together? How can I translate that into something semi-practical I can wear without wanting to eat my adventuring hat? 

It’s a great design, but I’m mortal, not digital. If you can determine a simple way to get that lacing to look accurate while still being comfortably wearable, let me, novice cosplayer that I am, know. (maybe if they were just made separately, flat, and sewn on, like a decal thing?)

I had planned on building this out of fake leather/suede-ish material, but then I remembered I wanted to also wear this as my new RenFest costume, and I didn’t want to die in July. 

So I went to my local Joann’s and picked up a considerably lighter, thinner, and satisfactorily rich looking brown fabric (I think it was this stuff: https://www.joann.com/kona-cotton-solid-quilt-fabric/1378397.html) for both jerkin and bracers. I’ve lost the original receipt, so I’m not sure how much I bought. Too much, because my storage bin is full of leftovers. I’m sure 3 yards is more than plenty, but measure to be sure. 

Tunic time!

This is the point where the “How To Graham” tutorial breaks down and becomes especially fuzzy and experimental, because I kept none of my in-process notes. High five, Gerbil, very helpful indeed. You might just want to glance at this for ideas before doing your own thing. 

I laugh in the face of patterns, hahahaha. (bad idea, don’t be me.)

I got my favorite fitted t-shirt (Disney Afternoon ftw), paper, a ruler, and old scrap fabric to maul as practice. I pinned my shirt flat to paper and traced both the front and back separately (folded the sleeves in so my tracework was sleeveless). The front had a deeper neckline but was otherwise nearly identical to its back partner. Once both sides were traced, I added a half inch margin around them, cut them out, and started working on fake jerkins, so I could sculpt the right fit before I got out the nice fabric. I wanted the jerkin to be pretty form fitting as Graham’s is, so I curved the sides in a bit deeper. 

I made at least two fake jerkins, fyi.

Since I went pattern-less (hahahaarrgh), tests were crucial, especially regarding the neck hole. The t-shirt is elastic, but my fabric is not. I personally require at least 22″ around the neck to get the thing over my nose, and it’s barely enough clearance. (I’m fairly certain I measured some other shirts with my fabric ruler for a loose size to aim for, then did edits on the junk fabric til I had a size that worked.)

Tests also showed that the back piece needed an additional two and a half inches of fabric on the bottom thanks to how it sits on my shoulders. In the above image, you can see the green fabric is higher, but I wanted the piece to look balanced from the side. 

It’s a touch hard to see as it’s usually hidden by the cloak, but I find a balanced jerkin is a happy jerkin. 

And here’s that additional fabric without a human in it. (ack don’t look at my uneven stitches)

By now, you should have a belt (in my method it doesn’t matter how it clasps, so pick any belt you please as you’ll be wearing it backward) so you can determine how long the flappy things on the front and back should be. Where your belt sits comfortably is where your side laces will stop and your trim on the flap things will start--the belt hides the transition. 

Graham’s belt sits low on his (fantastically defined) hips. I prefer it on my waist so it doesn’t slide up when I’m walking, so my flap things are longer than his. For reference, my flap things...no, wait, there must be a technical term....Google says it’s a peplum. My peplum (??) are 8″ish long, though his look like they’re about half that. 

For reference, as a 5′6″ person, from hanger to hem my jerkin’s back piece is approximately 28″ long. The most important things here are how long it is overall, and if the neck hole is big enough to fit over your head: nearly everything else can be altered when wearing it via the lacework I have planned.

Look, at this point, you might want to give up on me and find a real shirt pattern, fitted or not. I understand. I’ll wait. This isn’t actually a step by step tutorial so much as a vague What I Did And It’s Probably Wrong. 

Okay, you’ve traced your favorite shirt (or bought a real pattern like a good person). Your tests have shown that your peplum sit at the same height on your leg, and you like the shape and feel of it when you wear your scrap fabric test (I recommend using safety pins to replicate the laces during the early size test phase). You’ve cut out the front and back shirt shaped pieces of brown fabric (with that half inch hem margin all around), and now they’re sitting on your floor, mocking you. 

The actual construction part!

The only attachment you’ll give these pieces is via the shoulders. If you’re new to this Making Your Own Clothes thing and your fabric has a nice side and a not nice side, put the nice sides against each other and sew along the not nice side so when you turn it over your hem is inside. 

I seam-ripped a collar from a shirt I loved but was too worn to wear otherwise--no math or sewing your own collar from scratch if you swipe it from another shirt. No one will ever see it since your cowl tucks into it, so it doesn’t matter how it looks, though natural colors are better than, say, blue, in case your cowl slips a bit. There are lots of lovely videos about attaching collars: this one seems nice, if you skip ahead to the actual sewing-on part at 4:50. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k31FWDp1s5I

At this point, since you’ve fitted it and trimmed it and done all that you want to it to get the shape you like, you’ll want to hem your shirt by that half inch margin all around so it’s clean and easy for the next part. It only looks vaguely shirt-like now since it’s held together just by the shoulders. 

Now, let’s get medieval on it. 

Time for lacing!

I used a blond suede leather rope to mimic the lighter color on Graham’s sides (check the beading or leather working section of the craft stores, and make sure it’s thick enough that it won’t snap under light strain, and thin enough it’ll fit through the grommet size you select). I already happened to own an anvil (...why?), so I just needed grommets. Mine appear to be 12mm--I got them in Ancient Copper. You’ll use them in the bracers later, too, so leftovers are a good thing for once. Hobby Lobby or Michaels can hook you up with supplies, but Etsy and eBay have more diverse color choices. 

Every inch from where the armpit opening stops to where the trim of the peplums begins (the height of which was established earlier when I decided to how to wear the belt), I made a mark for a grommet, and marked its corresponding partner. For reference, I have 9 holes down each hem, for 18 total holes per side, and a grand total 36 grommets in the tunic. I jammed an awl through the holes marked and applied the grommets as per the packet’s instruction. 

Like making a metal and fabric sandwich. With a hammer. 

It’s totally therapeutic. I can see why Amaya’s into this stuff. 

(It’s not a Looney Toons anvil, by the by: like this, instead.)

Unspool the suede rope and thread it through the grommets. To try and mimic the game, I use a ladder shoelace tie, starting with the grommet pair beneath the arms and running down until I tie a bow in the last pair. I tuck the loose ends into the waistband of the trousers. So, this: https://www.fieggen.com/shoelace/ladderlacing.htm

Finally, I made (because I couldn’t find to buy) my own trim about 1/2″ wide from some scrap light brown suede in the Joann Scrap Bin, and attached it to the peplum (is this truly a better word than flap, vote now).

And that, friend, is a jerkin that would make any real medieval person flinch but should be cool for cosplay. You should try it with your cloak and cowl. If you’re following my method, you get to layer up, lucky you: anchor shirt, long-sleeved-purple-undershirt, jerkin, cloak (snaps through the jerkin’s collar onto the anchor shirt), cowl (to cover your shoulders so you don’t see the cloak tugging at your jerkin collar). 

Yeah, it’s warm. Sorry.

Drink some water.

When you’re done sweating in it (eww, I know it’s awful, sorry), handwash it. Strip the rope out of the grommets, use handwashing detergent in a (clean!) bathroom sink, then hang it over a bathtub to dry before relacing it using that ladder shoelace technique and storing it on a hanger. I always have it laced, and pull it on over my head with it laced, too.

And with that, you’ve got about half of your entire cosplay done. Congrats! Take some time to relaaaax. You’re gonna be a king. 

(is this helpful at all to anyone? should i keep going?)

(peplum?? really????)

[onceuponawildflower]

How has your sexuality affected your religiousness? I know when I first starting following you years ago you were very involved in the church. Please feel free to ignore this question if it is uncomfortable/too personal/whatever. I just know many people who are afraid to truly be themselves because of the judgement that typically comes from their church families (among others I’m sure)

no it’s okay i don’t mind answering.

a few years back, back when i was v involved in the church, i also got v involved in nonviolent protesting and political activism (circa the noDAPL movement, Bernie, the big swing into immigration rights we’ve recently seen, the Syrian genocide, and the rise of Trump, etc). the more i got involved in those things, the more i became alienated by the church. i was asked to be part of worship less and less, some people distanced themselves from me. 

it eventually got to a point where i talked to the pastors multiple times, asking them what we were going to be doing to take a stance on human injustices. they told me that, i kid you not, ‘what you’re doing on the left end is as extreme as the far-right wing.’ they told me they wanted to stay centrist and not take a stand. in my last encounter with them they told me that they loved me as a sister, but they wouldn’t ever talk about the issues i was passionate about bc it would ‘go over peoples’ heads’. i left before the service that day and almost immediately after, i was excommunicated. like i lost my entire friend group and church family, i was taken off of worship, my pastor left one inflammatory comment on something i posted on fb and then blocked me. it was a whole to-do which really hurt. but also made me livid. but also i was exhausted, having tried so hard to encourage people to care for others as their religion had always encouraged and kept being met with comfortable apathy…

so while i was kicked out of that church and that was a whole lot to deal with on all facets of my mind, body, and soul, i also see it to be a blessing bc it opened up this whole new world for me, one that i never even gave myself an option to believe previously. i explored all the facets of spirituality and mysticism that i knew very little about other than the christian church saying they were sinful and demonic (purely bc they weren’t protestantism). i also began to explore sexuality beyond the purity garbage force fed to christians. and that’s where it probably started.

once i realized it was okay to dismantle the crippling system imposed upon people, mostly womxn but also men, that told them that sexual purity was of utmost importance but the same system that never provided any sort of guidance through anything sexual, ever, i started to heal my own wounds of trauma and naivety and began to love myself. like my whole self. not just as a physical being but as a spiritual vessel and goddess soul resting in flesh. 

i still have a long way to go and christianity really does fuck you up with ego and self-doubt and guilt and perfectionism, but it can be healed. i started listening to jamie lee finch and reading more about spiritual mysticism. i got into tarot and witchcraft and i know a lot of christians out there are probably rolling their eyes or laughing at me rn when they read this, but there is SO MUCH knowledge and wisdom around us in the natural world, much more than a book written by a bunch of men thousands of years ago. women hold so much power and goodness and wisdom and divinity, but christianity has all but wiped them out and done all it can to invalidate and eradicate the feminine divine. 

that feminine divine however, is what gives me life. it fuels me. it reminds me of my agency. it reminds me of my power. 

while all of this awakening was happening spiritually, so was my sexual awakening. it came in little nudges, like i would see womxn and want to cuddle them or hold them or kiss them or have what i thought was platonic relationships (nonsexual, intellectual, emotional lifelong partnerships). it scared me at first. a lot. i actually remember actively denying it. but also kept asking my queer friends about this sensation. i didn’t want to be pan at first or anything not straight. i actively opposed it bc i couldn’t imagine having to go through that transition with my family or my own self. i have been pretty emotionally exhausted for years now, and i didn’t think i could take that on too. while i was lgbtq+ friendly and an ally, it can be a totally different experience when you realize you’ve been suppressing something deep deep down unconsciously for decades. it’s really hard to explain really, and it’s still relatively new to me so bare with me here, i’m still feeling it out. 

the more i ignored it however, the stronger it came on. at one point i surrendered to it. i couldn’t help but just embrace it bc otherwise i was lying to myself. i allowed myself to be open and honest with myself and that was terrifying, but also very liberating, just getting it out there and allowing my sexuality to exist in the same space as me. i tried to figure out what exactly i was feeling and if i could categorize this to help create some clarity (virgo here). what resonated most with me was pansexuality. it wasn’t like i was attracted to men and women and that was my marker. it was more like i was drawn to someone’s energy before i even considered their sexuality/gender. someone’s emotional presence and aura drew me in and everything else came second. it didn’t matter to me if they were mxn or womxn or something more fluid and in between. i just was there for the energy. 

so i’ve been ‘out’ to my friends for a few months now, but i don’t think i’ll ever tell my parents, at least, i don’t think i will. i just know them and while they love people they love them through that christian lens. i’m very jaded still and forgive me for that, i will definitely need to go to therapy once i get insurance to help move beyond this. they still have a lot of resistance with lgbtq people, and that makes me really sad. i can’t imagine even nodding to the subject bc i know that we’re not going to meet in the middle. both of their kids are really liberal and not christian despite their best efforts, and they have become slightly less conservative since i was young, but now they’re just where that church i was kicked out of was, right in the middle, unbudgingly. 

i suppose it works out for us now, since i am openly pansexual/queer and my partner is a heteronormative male (though not entirely cisgendered and he’s comfortable being whomever he wants to be and i love that about him). from the outside, we look like a heteronormative couple, which is cool and convenient for my family. honestly, since i left christianity, i’ve had a different relationship with my parents, and i miss how close we were. but i know it’s not going to change bc i have 0 desire to return to that religion and they have 0 desire to explore anything outside of it. what relationship we do have now is nice, in its own scope. i just wish i could be real and honest and open and deep with them and that they would go there with me. but that’s okay… i have friends who can meet me there and a supportive and open partner and so this is really the best it can get for me realistically. i am v grateful for the people i have in my life. 

i don’t stay in touch with literally anyone from that church. no one talks to me anymore. they’ve all cut me out and as they know they can’t pull me back in they’ve exited altogether. that’s the christian agenda though, no? it’s all about bringing people in (at its best). just like door to door sales, if they know they don’t have a chance of making that sale, they’ll stop wasting their time and move on. bigger fish to fry. it hurts that i was only a (black) sheep in their flock, but at the same time, i have grown so much since i realized i could think for myself and be okay and not crippled by lack of a deity. i have no desire to return, and if those people couldn’t accept me then, they sure as hell won’t accept me now. but i don’t want that sort of energy in my life. i want authenticity. i want realness. i want vulnerability and openness and unconditional love. if you’re not willing to bring that, then i don’t really want to invest in you. simple as that.

now i’m not saying the way things went down for me are how it should be for anyone else, but i do encourage you and anyone else out there to feel your feelings. don’t be afraid of them. walk into those murky waters, if even with trepidation and wariness, at least move forward. bc otherwise you’re stagnating and stagnant water is dangerous (and smelly). foster a community of those who want to join you in your journey, who love you without any agenda. it is hard and can be incredibly painful but i do believe it’s worth it to live a life true to yourself rather than lie to ourself to appease the comfort zones of others.

that’s all i got. 

[keeroo92]

Can I make a request? Would it be okay to ask for V comforting a reader that feels like they don't deserve to love him? I have been feeling that way in the fandom for so long now since I see so many other people put so much effort into writing him and loving him with their art and everything. I feel like I don't deserve it at all no matter how much I write about it. Hell, I haven't been writing about him much because of it that feeling. I'm a mess, I'm sorry.

Of freaking course!!!! I do have to say first, my dear Anon, that it doesn’t matter if you don’t create something in this (OR ANY!!!) fandom. Creators share their work so that others can enjoy it, too! The amount of time and energy that each of us can invest in this has ABSOLUTELY NOTHING to do with whether we deserve to enjoy it. We’ve all got different burdens to bear and shit to deal with in real life, and I’m pretty sure I speak for the majority of creators when I say we are happiest when we know someone enjoys our work. So, revel in it. Immerse yourself in V and his lovely eyes. Drown in the comfort fandom gives you, and remember, you have no obligation to give back. Be selfish, it’s okay. You’re not a mess; you’re human.

Rant over, on to some yummy hurt/comfort!

Partially inspired by this epic song.

 Word count - 1,147

__________________________

It didn’t take long for you to fall for the poet. There was something about his aura, his energy that called to you and there was no resisting it. He was where the compass of your heart always pointed, the direction you turned when you had no map.

You felt such elation when he first kissed you. It was like being inside a firework, exploding into brilliant spots of color and noise. So perfect, so beautiful and lovely. His arms were warm around you, his lips soft but insistent.

When he told you of his origin and of all he’d endured, it shattered you. How could such a brilliant light have been born from such darkness? And then to emerge from it so whole, so strong in will and spirit? Unimaginable. He had tenacity you could never dream of matching. Even as you took his hand in yours after he fell silent, stroking your thumb over his tattooed knuckles, your heart was breaking.

You didn’t deserve this. Didn’t deserve to be the one sitting beside him, supporting him as he battled his demons. You had so little to offer him, and guilt settled onto your shoulders as you leaned on his shoulder to cry. You wanted to tell him to look elsewhere, find someone who could give him everything he needed and wanted. His love was overwhelming in its power and you wished you had the means to return the all-encompassing warmth he gave you every day.

“Tell me your thoughts, sweet angel,” he said, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.

Even his nickname for you filled you with self-loathing. He saw you as a divine messenger, a harbinger of peace and wonder. A title you didn’t deserve in the slightest. You shook your head, refusing to answer. He had enough to think about, enough to deal with. It was your burden to bear.

“I can’t,” you whispered, withdrawing your hands.

He frowned, his brows furrowing in concern. You looked away, trying to escape his intense gaze as another wave of tears fell from your reddened eyes. He rested his palm on your knee; you could feel his earnest stare boring into you. How did he do that, how did he make you feel like if you only had the courage to lay your troubles at his feet, he would face them for you?

Another reason he deserved someone better. His partner should be able to do more to help him, not just sit there and cry. An equal.

Which you would never be.

A knife pierced your heart and shards of glass choked your throat, but you swallowed until it faded. You didn’t want to fall to pieces, not after everything he just told you. It must have been difficult to share. Painful to remember. Another blade sank into your chest as you realized he’d only done so for your benefit.

Hold it together. It isn’t supposed to be about me right now.

You took a shuddering breath and rubbed your leaking nose on the sleeve of your too-large sweater. One of his. You’d have to wash it for him; you could do that much, at least. With your other hand, you rolled up the fabric to keep your mess from touching anything. Your hands fell to your lap, fingers picking at your cuticles anxiously.

He reached out and ran the pad of his thumb over your cheekbone, wiping away a tear. “Tell me, please.”

His pleading tone pushed you over the edge into breaking.

“I don’t… I just…” you huffed in frustration, struggling to find the words. “Someone else could give you so much more than I can. I don’t deserve this, not when I can’t reciprocate.”

He hummed and wrapped his arms around you, pulling your head to his chest. His heartbeat was a steady rhythm thumping under your cheek. For a few minutes neither of you spoke, both gathering your thoughts. You tensed as his lips parted to respond at last.

“Perhaps. But you’ve neglected a very important detail.”

You closed your eyes, inhaling his familiar scent. This was it. It was for the best, you knew that. He’d be free to find someone better, someone stronger and more capable. With more to give. Your heart was in agony but you tried to take comfort in knowing he’d be better off without you.

“Those ‘others’ you mentioned? They may offer more, true, but they wouldn’t be you. The mere fact that you want me to have more is enough. I don’t love you for what you can give me.”

He turned your head to meet his gaze, specks of light glinting in his emerald eyes as he gave you a tender smile. You couldn’t breathe.

“I love you for who you are. And for the record, you give me far more than you know.”

You sniffled, unable to defeat the pain in your chest. He was wrong, you didn’t give him anywhere near enough. He was just trying to be kind. You closed your eyes and buried your face in his shirt to hide. He stroked your hair and hummed a few bars of a song you taught him last week, and the memory brought a mournful smile to your lips.

“There, you just gave me a smile. A treasure.”

You choked out a laugh, the edges of your pain smoothing over at his words.

“And a laugh, too? I am fortunate today.”

His lithe fingers probed at your shoulders, easing the tension you held with every touch. He smirked and lifted your chin again to face him. You didn’t resist, meeting his intent stare as he chipped away at your feelings of inadequacy.

“Look at that, you’ve given me your trust as well. You spoil me.”

You smiled, more stable now as the vice around your heart loosened even more. A smile. A laugh. Trust. Things you took for granted, but the poet never would. Nowhere close to comparable to all he’d given you, but more than you thought a few minutes ago.

“It may not seem like much to you, but it’s everything I didn’t have in the past. Everything I ever wanted and needed but couldn’t find.”

You froze, remembering the horrible tale he just told you of his life. He looked so sure, so completely confident in his words that it pushed away the last echoes of pain. Was it possible that he was right?

You didn’t know.

You didn’t care.

You kissed him, celebrating every taste of this wonderful man. A salty and tear-stained kiss, but all that mattered to you was giving him what you could. You stroked his hair, his cheeks, his shoulders in a desperate bid to convey your love. Maybe nothing would ever feel like enough.

Maybe that was the whole point.

Maybe that’s how you knew you truly loved him.