#mid read i had the realization that this wasn’t just some excellent fic i found but one where i know where the writer never disappoints

[robin-obsessed]

smiles, you are too good TOO GOOD I TELL YOU

trapped in your game | CHOI YEONJUN NSFW

pairing: bestfriend!yeonjun x fem!reader | genre: oneshot; fluff, smut. best friends to ?? | wc: warnings: hair tugging, a lot of praises, pet names (, baby, princess, sweetheart, cutie), bsf!yeonjun's just so sweet :(( , physical affection, oral (m receiving), yj a lil rough with it, cum swallowing, smut with plot, not proof read, lmk if I've missed any. | a/n: so I wanna thank @junniieesbby for elongating this idea with me hehe, testing waters out since it's been a while but enjoy <3 this is my comeback guys >:) it's also 5am, so I'm sorry HAHAHA

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

continue under the cut ❤︎

no matter how many times you turn around and rant to your best friend, yeonjun, he's there laying on your bed with his upper body hanging off of the edge and his phone in his hands.

“yeonjun…” you whine, pouting as you ask him, “were you even listening?” you exaggerate a deep huff of disappointment and that catches his attention.

rushing to turn his phone off and throwing it somewhere on your bed amongst your plushies, he lays on his front and reaches his arm out to caress the top of your head.

“okay, okay. I’m listening, what were you saying?” he tilts his head slightly and he mirrors your pout.

“I was saying, I think I’m linking up with this guy next week but I don’t… um...” you trail off, lightly chewing on your bottom lip thinking if you sound dumb worrying about this.

“but you don’t what? you know you can tell me, right?” he’s still caressing the top of your head ever so gently. yeonjun tends to have that aura about him. and it’s been like that for years. it’s not that you were embarrassed to tell him, he never belittles you about these things, or anything in general, but you also didn’t want him to think you were being silly about this.

“I don’t know if I’m good enough at giving head, jjun.” your light whine switched him up in some way.

you always wondered if he’s ever thought of you like that, and the answer is yes. but he knows his priorities as your best friend is that he’s always there for you no matter what. helping you in whatever it is. even when it comes to this.

“but you’ve given head before though?” he sits up, his feet now flat on the ground by your knees. you nod subtly, watching the way the little bulb lights up above his head.

“hmm..” he exaggerates a thinking face, bottom lip protruding before the corners of his lips turn upwards. “show me what you’ve got.”

you know how to kiss. that’s because yeonjun taught you. you know how to turn guys on. that’s because yeonjun taught you. but you’ve managed to give head and have your previous partners and flings come from that, and yeonjun hadn’t taught you. what if he teaches you now? will that make you better at doing it?

“yn? sweetheart, what’s going on in that cute 'lil head of yours?” he leans forward to grab ahold of your hand, which surprisingly lays limp in his palms. “I’ll talk you through it if you want.”

“I can try-“

he shakes his head, cupping the side of your face and his thumb stroking your cheek and slowly lowering to glide across your bottom lip. “Give me your all, c’mon.”

“thanks jjun.” you shoot up an innocent smile, the one that makes his knees weak even when he's sitting down.

you shuffle onto your knees, situating yourself between yeonjun's thighs while your fingers began to skim over the material of his sweatpants. yeonjun, on the other hand, was anticipating the act, leaning back on his elbows to observing you from that angle. he knows how good you are and how good you can be, of course he does because he's taught you these things.

as you watch your best friend look back at you with his sultry eyes, you catch the way he bites down on his bottom lip as your fingers trail closer towards his half hard dick.

"oh, so this is how you tease your flings huh?" his voice was lower than usual, but nothing you've never heard before.

"just find it a little fun when they squirm. you're good at not doing that though jjunie." you finally apply pressure onto his growing dick, stroking him through his sweats and picking up the pace until you see him fighting to throw his head back, but resorting to heavy, shaky breaths.

a hum leaves your mouth when you see yeonjun get harder under your touch, but it doesn't take much longer until you're hooking your fingers under the band of both his sweats and boxers.

your chest heaves a little, it's not the first time you've seen yeonjun's dick, the last time being when you caught him masturbating in his room with his door unlocked and he was wearing headphones. but he had a pretty dick for sure. his girth was a good size, the length wasn't too intimidating but deep inside you were excited. the head had already started to leak clear droplets, veins just beginning to raise to the surface as you wrap your soft hand around his shaft by the base.

he hisses from the pressure you apply, letting out his sigh that he had been holding in for a hot second. you're in awe, never had you touched yeonjun like this before, but to see him react this way just from your simple touches were starting to affect the dampness between your thighs.

"yeonjun, you know, you have a pretty dick." you tell him sweetly.

"thank you kitten— oh my god." he doesn't hold back the small moan in his throat after you had just licked him from the base to the tip with your lips lighting sucking on the head, letting the salty droplets spread across your tongue.

you smile at him once again, observing the way his mouth slacks open and how his pretty, pillowy lips are the same colour as his soft tip. that's something you'll unintentionally engrave in your brain for every time you glance at his lips.

"so.. so.. pretty.." you kiss around his shaft randomly betwen your words, and he responds with his hand in your hair, and lightly tugging it.

"get to it cutie, I wanna know how good you are." he loosens his grip, letting you take more of him into your mouth until he's almost prodding the back of your throat and pulling him out again.

a guttural groan leaves his throat as you repeat the same action a couple more times before you gag from how far in you're taking him. you're usually pretty good at not gagging, even using the squeezing-your-thumb-extremely-tight trick to prevent that, but it still happened.

"hey, hey." yeonjun sat up in urgency, but mentally kicking himself for twitching from the fact tears started to well up. "I'm sure you wanna do good for him, right? now breathe through your nose, your throat's gonna be occupied."

you nod, really listening to his words and you do exactly what he tells you. taking in a couple of deep and steady breaths you wrap your mouth around him again, bobbing your head and inching further until he hits the back of your throat without you gagging.

"oh shit," he gasps, "just like that, princess, just like that."

both of his hands make their way to your hair, gathering them as best as he could into a makeshift ponytail. the suction you have going on was starting to make him feel light headed, twitching in your hold. he couldn't refrain, but you were doing too good. with your hair now in a tight ponytail in one fist, he pushes your head down more until he hears you gag.

an airy chuckle leaves his lips as he moans out your name and other profanities, boosting your ego to keep going. you know he's close when you watch his lower abdomen starting to twitch from under his black hoodie.

"keep going baby, I'm so close. god, you're so good." his heaven sent whines were shooting straight to your core, and you just knew your panties were soaked through from the discomfort against your core.

you let out a strong hum whilst continuing to bob your head, moving your wrist to push him over the edge. your other hand caresses his thigh while his hand is wrapped around your wrist. tight. a few more delicious moans leave your best friends mouth, throwing his head back as he bucks his hips up, close to chasing his high.

"yn, ugh, baby I'm gonna- I'm gonna cum." his hold around your wrist tightens as the band in his stomach snaps, feeling the way his cock twitches against your tongue.

you suck on his tip, swirling your wet muscle around it a few times until you taste his cum on your tongue. you let out a surprised moan from the way his load was shooting into your mouth, some even beginning to trickle down the back of your throat.

"ah shit, yn." he chuckles with a hand lazily covering his face. "you're so hot, what the fuck."

you giggle as you lean back on your knees, looking up at him and opening your mouth to show him his load under and around your tongue.

"filthy too, good god." he collects the cum threatening to drip from the corners of your lips as he waits for you to swallow it all and lick the rest from his thumb.

"so was that alright?" you lean your arms across his knees and rest your chin on the back of your hands.

"alright? you did so good baby." he caresses your head again, noticing the way you're refraining from smiling so hard.

"jjun?" you ask, almost a whisper. your fingers tracing invisible shapes across his thighs. he responds with a light hum. "I kind of don't want to see that guy anymore."

"what are you saying?" yeonjun raises an intriguing brow.

"I kinda just want you." there it is again, that precious smile that yeonjun loves to see.

again, he reaches out for you and leads you onto his lap, hovering you over his spent dick. your hands rest on his shoulders, stabilising yourself as he brings his middle and ring finger to stroke up against your clothed slit and rubbing light circles on your clit.

"well, I'm all yours."

taglist: @ahnneyong @prodsh00ky @wccycc @lizdevorak @fairybin @laylasbunbunny @acaiasahi @ttyunz @cha0thicpisces @fairybinie @vatterie @hyuntaena @ja4hyvn @yunkiwii @aprilisque @bb-eilish @ericyjun @bluejin0812 @luvsoobs @yeonyeonyeonjun @junniieesbby @day6andetcetera @dainsleif-when-playable @txt-yaomi and bc I thought you guys would like this hehe @lovejoshua @robin-obsessed @kookthief @choistick @baljinciaga @hanniejie

[the-witty-pen-name]

Can’t Help Falling in Love

Loki x Reader (f) 

Valentine’s Day with the God of Mischief 

Based on suggestion by: @squadleaderchase​

A/N: Thank you so much for the suggestion! I loved writing this, it was so much fun! 

Happy Valentine’s Day y’all!

There is also a gender neutral version of this fic, and will be posted shortly after this one! Read it here! 

I recommend to putting on Can’t Help Falling in Love by Elvis towards the end just for that finishing touch! 

Summary: When Loki learns about the traditions of Valentine’s Day, he asks you to be his Valentine- and reluctantly takes advice from Steve Rogers. 

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: none; just fluff 

“Can’t Midgardians have a holiday that doesn’t involve such a grotesque display of… red?” Loki asks walking into the living room of the Avengers compound. Loki arrived at the compound a few weeks before Christmas and so far, he’s experienced two Earth holidays: Christmas and New Year’s. Of course, Tony had picked the theme for both parties to be elaborately red and gold- he claimed the fact that it matched his suit was merely a coincidence.

“Just wait until next month,” you reply casually, your eyes not leaving the brief you were reading while you sat cozied up in one of the large armchairs. “I think you’ll like St. Patrick’s Day much more… color scheme wise at least.”

Loki looked up curiously at the hearts of all shades of red and pink Natasha had hung up to decorate the Avengers’ living quarters. She had gone to visit Clint’s family and his kids spent hours making Valentines and decorations out of construction paper and glitter. Loki looked almost puzzled at the lopsided hearts that hung from the ceiling on transparent line so they looked like they floated mid-air.

“Perhaps I might,” he mumbled to himself, the lovesick aura of his surroundings making him slightly disgusted. “Though I suppose I find your rituals as bizarre as you’d find on Asgard.”

“Mhmm,” you mumbled in response to his thinking out loud. It was rare that the compound would be this quiet. It was a Friday evening and in the middle of a team meeting earlier today, Tony declared exhaustedly that everyone needs to start the weekend early and dismissed everyone despite Steve’s protests. You weren’t sure where everyone else went and you didn’t particularly care- enjoying the rare peace and quiet.

You didn’t mind Loki’s company. He was a little aloof but overall, you found him more to be misunderstood than anything else. He wasn’t like Thor and sure, he had a very trouble ridden past to downplay it- but he’s confided in you all it wasn’t entirely his doing. Out of everyone living at the compound, he probably had grown the closest to you, or as close as Loki would allow himself to be to someone.

“What even is this holiday?” Loki asked, pulling his attention from the decorations to where you sat, binder in your lap. You looked up and closed the brief, tossing it onto the coffee table in front of where you sat.

“Sunday is Valentine’s Day,” you say looking back over to him, meeting his eyes. “I mean overtime the traditions and how we celebrate have changed but it’s originally the day meant to honor St. Valentine and commemorate his death. There’s a lot more to it than that and there’s all different of different origins, but now it’s more like a day where you celebrate love, because he was the patron Saint of Love.”

Loki nods, liking the idea of this holiday much more than New Years already. He didn’t mind Christmas, but the elaborate parties made everything not very appealing to him. You can’t blame the god for not having a good time at parties where every guest fears him or hates him. He walks over and takes a seat on the couch and crosses his legs. He was intrigued enough to continue the conversation and ask you more questions. “What are the traditions?” He asks curiously.

“Traditionally, you would ask someone to be your Valentine, and that’s the person you want to spend the day with,” you answer with a small shrug, trying to explain a holiday you’ve never had to explain before. “Some people have it easy and they ask their significant other, and if you don’t have one, you ask someone you’re romantically interested in to be your Valentine. Then you give each other gifts, like chocolates or flowers, anything really that’s romantic and you go out on a date, like a nice dinner but it doesn’t have to be. That’s the basic gist.”

“Thank you, (y/n),” Loki said, mulling over your explanation. “You’ve been helpful, as always. Tell me, who’s your Valentine?”

“I don’t have one,” you answered honestly. The only time you really celebrated was when you had been with someone. You’d never really participated otherwise. You planned to just spend the night alone or with Nat if she also didn’t have plans and probably watch a movie- most definitely Pride and Prejudice.

“Shame,” Loki said with a tsk. “Perhaps, if you would be interested, you could be my Valentine?”

“Really?” you ask, honestly surprised.

“I actually like the idea of the day,” Loki shrugged. “And I don’t know many people, people seem to hate me on this planet- no idea as to why. You’ve always been kind to me, and you are the most tolerable person I’ve encountered on this planet.”

“That’s oddly very kind of you,” you say with a chuckle. “I appreciate the sentiments. Um, yes. I’d be happy to be your Valentine.”

“Excellent,” he grinned. He clapped his hands together and stood up. “Splendid. I’ll ask Thor to help me plan something.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” you smile, picking up your paperwork again as Loki heads off to find his brother.

***

“Brother,” Thor’s voice echoed in the training room. “Spar with me?”

“As much as I would love to,” Loki said sarcastically, “I need your help with something I need to plan.” Loki walked over to the side of the mat where Thor had been training with Captain Rogers.

“Plan what?” Captain Rogers asked curiously. It was an innocent enough question but Loki took it as Rogers insinuating his distrust in him. Of course, Loki can’t blame the man but it did rub him the wrong way.

“If you must know Captain Rogers, I’m making plans for this upcoming Valentine’s Day,” Loki said matter-of-factly. “I’m sure since you have quite the active love life recently, your words of wisdom are probably of infinite value.”

“You can learn a thing or two from me,” Steve retorted as he put the punching bag beck into place. “But I don’t like your attitude.”

“I don’t know how I’ll ever manage without you,” Loki scoffed. He turned his attention back to his brother. “I need help to determine where I should take (y/n) and what I should get her.”

“(y/n) agreed to this?” Thor asks, his eyebrows raised in confusion. Rogers kept his mouth shut, deciding to see where this conversation will go before

“Yes, brother. I asked her to be my Valentine as stated by tradition and she said yes.”

“Ah! Good for you, brother!” Thor exclaimed, happily. “I’m glad you’re immersing yourself in the Midgard culture.”

“Yes, yes,” Loki waved him off, “Now, please, tell me what I should do.”

“I’ve never celebrated Valentine’s Day,” Thor says with a shrug and a sympathetic look. “I haven’t had much opportunity to explore the culture. Every time I’m on this planet I’m a little busy preventing its destruction. Perhaps Rogers can help you?”

Loki let out an exasperated sigh. He avoided Rogers as he knew the man had such a smug look on his face. Loki refused to give him the satisfaction. However, he realized that wouldn’t be fair to you. Rogers not only knew what to do, but he was also close friends with you. He quickly realized if he wanted to celebrate with you properly, he’d need to rely on the infamous super soldier.

“Captain Rogers,” Loki said with a charismatic smile, turning back to the man. “I wholeheartedly apologize for my lack of… social niceties. If you’d be willing to help me, to ensure your dear friend enjoys her holiday, I would be sincerely grateful.”

“Only because of (y/n),” Rogers says skeptically, waving a finger at Loki. “She deserves to enjoy her time and I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I let you screw up her evening.”

“What a loyal friend.”

Years later, the Avengers would still talk about the fact Loki cared about you so much, he sought out advice from Captain America and Thor. And as Captain America said, he helped Loki with every last detail and Steve never let Loki forget it.

***

Loki had told you that he’d come to your room to get you at 6 o’clock Sunday evening. He wore clothes he had picked out, black dress pants, a white button-down shirt and shiny, black dress shoes. He had kept the last button of the shirt unbuttoned and he had rolled the sleeves up, a styling tip he had gotten from Thor. He had his long hair gelled back and tamed, ignoring Captain Roger’s horrible suggestion for a haircut. He felt very weird not wearing any green, but he took the advice he was given on his ensemble.

You were just putting on your heels when he knocked at your door Sunday promptly at 6pm. Of course, Loki would be very punctual. You gave yourself one more quick once more in the mirror in your room before heading to answer the door.

You had on a pair of dark green heels that perfectly matched your dress. You also layered over the outfit a suede brown jacket, that complimented the jewel tone of the dress and shoes nicely. You kept your appearance simple, sticking to how you usually styled your hair. Not wanting to keep him waiting, you quickly opened the door, your jacket and bag both in hand.

“Wow,” you say with a grin, when you take in Loki’s appearance. “You look very nice.”

“You look stunning,” Loki said, his eyes widening, taking in your appearance. The compliment made you have butterflies.

“Thank you,” you said with false confidence. Underneath, you were a nervous wreck as you took the arm that he extended to you.

“So,” Loki began to walk down the hallway with you. “Apparently, this planet has something called reservations, and anyone who tries to get one a few days before Valentine’s Day is a “moron,” according to a very rude young man I had the pleasure of speaking with- the first time using a phone too on top of that. So, I hope you don’t mind if the evening is a little… makeshift.”

“I’m sure it’ll be great,” you reassure him. You feel him relax slightly. You found how hard he was trying so endearing.

Where else did he bring you but just down the hall to the living room. At night with the lights dimmed, combined with Natasha’s homemade decorations, it actually looked quite beautiful. He had decorated with an eclectic array of candles as well that covered most surfaces of the room. It also looked like he had swiped every throw pillow in the whole compound and had them arranged the coffee table in the center of the room.

“Did you do all of this?” You ask in awe.

“Yes,” he replied, just watching you. “Do you like it?”

“It’s perfect.”

“I had to make my own version of advice I received,” he disclosed to you. You sat opposite each other on either side of the coffee table, you kicked off your heels and he did the same with his shoes. “Captain Rogers said- and I’m trying my best to quote verbatim, ‘You need to show a girl a good time. You gotta take her to dinner and dancing.’” He even mimicked Steve’s voice perfectly. It made you laugh.

“I can’t believe you subjected yourself to Steve for me, I’m touched,” you smiled. “I mean I love Steve,” you continue, “But I can’t imagine you too being best friends anytime soon.”

“No, I suppose we probably won’t be,” Loki chuckles.

“I hate to point it out,” you continue, “but I think you missed both the dinner part and the dancing part of that plan.” Loki smirked and when you blinked, he transformed the whole room.

“Did I?” he asks, with an eyebrow raised. You gasp, looking around the room you were now in. You knew it was an illusion, but it felt very real. The atmosphere, the breeze coming in from the large bay windows that weren’t there before. The coffee table now a table now one of many dining tables in an incredibly high-end restaurant. The table had food, and a bottle of wine. You were stunned. There was a live band and other couples in other tables and out on the dancefloor.

“Loki?” You exclaimed, looking around at your new surroundings. It was amazing. You couldn’t believe the magic right before your eyes. Of course, you knew it was just one of his tricks, but it felt so incredibly real. You picked up your fork and took a bite of the food in front of you. It was incredible, you questioned if you were even eating.

“It’s real,” Loki said, like he could read your mind. Honestly, he had only just anticipated your next question. “I made it. Well, I made it with Friday’s supervision.”

“It’s fantastic! I can’t believe you went through all this trouble just for me.”

“Sweetheart, you are very much worth it- worth much more than this,” he responded casually, throwing in the term of endearment to see how you’d react. He caught the way it made you smile.

You continued to talk for a little while, and shared stories. You were worried that compared to his life on Asgard, he’d find your stories incredibly boring and mundane. It seemed to be the opposite. His attention was only on you and he held on to every word you said. He created this elaborate setting just to keep you the center of his attention.

“Should we dance?” He asks suddenly, a glimmer in his eye. You looked down apprehensively.

“I’m not really a dancer,” you tried to insist.

“Do you actually not want to dance, darling? Because if so, I will not bring it up again,” he says earnestly, “But, if you’re saying no because you’re afraid I’m going to judge you, I honestly can promise you I would never dream of doing so.”

You give it another moment to ponder over his words. You were taken aback at how well he seemed to know how you were thinking. You let out a sigh of defeat, and smile. “I’d love to,” you reply.

He stands up and offers you his hand. His smile is enough to make you weak at the knees. You take his hand and he leads you over to the dancefloor as the band starts playing its next song. “Does that singer sound like Elvis?” You ask, the small glitch in the illusion throwing you off for only a moment.

“I don’t know who that is,” Loki says with a laugh. He pulls you in close and rests one hand on the small of your back and the other grasps your hand close. You wrap your other arm around his shoulder. You are both pressed up incredibly close to one another. You rest your head on his chest comfortably, and you can’t see how much the action makes his whole face go red. Guiding your movements together, it mostly just swaying in place. The steps were small, and with the music playing for the two of you.

“This place is incredible,” you sigh happily looking up at him. “But I think I liked the first place a little better.”

He nodded in agreement and you got to watch a green hue encompass the walls of the restaurant as they almost melted away, and everything around the two of you just fade away. The sconces on the walls, revealed themselves to be the candles that cluttered the living room and the couples evaporated with the green mist. The table you had both sat at, turned back to the coffee table but the empty plates remained. The elaborate statues that surrounded the room turned into the furniture you knew well, and then the live band faded away to reveal Steve’s record player indeed playing a 45 of Can’t Help Falling in Love by Elvis Presley.

When the room finished revealing its true appearance to you, you laid your head back on Loki’s chest and mumbled that now it was perfect. He smiled to himself, thinking about how without a doubt in his mind, Valentine’s Day is his absolute favorite holiday on Midgard. He now couldn’t believe this reality was real. If he wasn’t holding you, he’d pinch himself. You were here, with him, in his arms, dancing in the middle of the living room on this godforsaken planet.

“(y/n)?” he whispered softly as the song was coming to an end.

“Mhmm?” You responded, your eyes closed, really just basking in the feeling of being so close to him and the smell of his cologne.

“Will be mine?” He asks carefully, remembering the phrase from Captain Roger’s advice. That phrase apparently being very important if today went well and he wanted to ask you to “go steady.” You chuckled softly, hearing Steve’s influence in the phrase.

“I would love to,” you say with a shy smile looking back up to him. He beams, incredibly happy you said yes. Swept up in his emotions, he swiftly leans down and presses his lips to yours capturing them in a passionate first kiss.

“Oh gross!” You hear someone exclaim, making you both pull away. It’s Tony- who was currently holding his side in pain as Pepper elbowed him in the side.

“You really had to do that?” she chastised him, rolling her eyes and giving an apologetic look to you and Loki before pushing Tony down the hallway to give you both your moment back, as sullied as it had become thanks to Tony.

“I’m so sorry,” she said embarrassed by his outburst, ushering him out as quickly as possible.

Loki turns his head back to you, immediately after they are out of view. “Where were we, darling?” He smirks, pulling you in for another kiss.

[marjansmarwani]

we won the cosmic lottery

2.1k || ao3

When Mya convinces Carlos to try speed dating on what would otherwise be a lonely Valentine’s Day, he’s pretty sure it’s going to be a disaster. Until a man who manages to light up his world with one look slides into the seat before him, that is. Suddenly he’s feeling a lot more optimistic.

Or, Tarlos Alternate First Meeting: Speed Dating Edition

I wrote fluff again and I am probably more surprised than you are. 

But I found this prompt from @madamewriterofwrongs in my inbox from several months ago and figured why not write a Valentine’s Day fic and try to stretch those fluff muscles again. Beta’d by @officereyes 💕 

-----------

As bad ideas went, Carlos was pretty sure this was one. 

“I cannot believe I let you talk me into this.” 

“What, you had other hot plans for Valentine’s Day?” Mya asked him, raising a skeptical eyebrow at him over her drink. 

“No,” Carlos admitted, “but that doesn’t mean this was the correct alternative.” 

“Why not? You’ll waste an hour of your life, talk to some people, come out with some good stories if nothing else. I think it sounds like the perfect alternative to spending the night home alone with Netflix.” 

“Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it,” he told her, tipping his glass to her before taking another drink.

“I have tried it Carlos, far too many times. You have too - that’s why we’re here.” 

“To get a look at Austin’s future serial killers?” 

Mya rolled her eyes at him before lightly smacking his arm with her clutch, “No, Officer Buzzkill. We’re here for a chance to maybe meet Mr. or Ms. Right.” 

Carlos twisted on his stool to survey the crowd gathered in the reserved section of the bar. He typically didn’t like to make assumptions without at least trying to get to know someone first, but he could honestly say that none of the men in the crowd even gave him the slightest glimmer of hope for the evening. He should have stayed home. 

He turned back to Mya with a dubious expression and she rolled her eyes again, “Lighten up Carlos, at the very least it can’t hurt.”

Carlos cast a glance back to one guy who was leering at him from the other side of the room and grimaced, “I’m not too sure about that.” 

His partner opened her mouth to respond but was interrupted by someone grabbing a microphone and calling the crowd to attention. 

“Good evening lonely hearts!” the host said once the din of the crowd had died down. Carlos shot Mya a look but she ignored him. 

“We’re going to get started here in a few minutes,” the host continued, “but before we start moving I just wanted to go over the specifics. Upon checking in you were given a bracelet. These are to help with the logistics. If you received a red bracelet you will be taking a seat at any of the open tables. If you got a pink one you will be rotating between the tables.”

Carlos glanced down at his wrist to see a red bracelet sitting there. Mya held up her own wrist to show another red one, “Looks like we both get to have people come to us tonight.” 

Carlos chuckled at her before turning his attention back to the host, who was still explaining the rules. 

“When the bell dings, you will rotate to the table to your right. You will have 3 minutes with each potential suitor and when the bell rings, you will move to the next one. Make sure that you write down their number and check yes or no before you part on the card provided - that’s how we will be pairing you! At the end of the evening we will be comparing all the lists and you will receive a list of the names and contact info of any suitors you mutually matched with to the email provided. After that, the ball is in your court! So make sure you make the most of these three minutes; it could be the time you find your soulmate!” 

The room filled with polite clapping and Carlos turned again to Mya, “You can’t be serious.” 

“Lighten up Reyes,” she said with a wink, “you wouldn’t want to scare your potential soulmate away.” 

“Fine, I’ll ‘lighten up’. But if one of these creeps murders me to make a skin suit, I’m holding you personally responsible.” 

“I don’t believe in ghosts so your threats have no effect on me.” 

There were several more things he wanted to say to his partner, but he was interrupted by the sound of the host telling them all to head to their respective areas. As they went to stand up, Mya reached out to touch his arm, “it’s going to be fine Carlos, really. You’ve got this; try to have some fun for once.” 

Her tone and expression were much more gentle than before and he took a deep breath, forcing himself to relax, “Thanks Mya,” he replied with a grateful smile. “Now go find Ms. Right.” 

She matched his smile and with a wave, she was gone. Carlos took another steady breath and headed to the guy’s section of the room, taking a seat at one of the tables. He pulled the card out of his jacket pocket and picked up one of the pencils waiting on the table, twirling it through his fingers anxiously. And when the first contender of the night slid into the seat before him he forced on a warm smile and held out his hand in greeting. Mya was right, he had this. 

--------

7 dates later he was less sure he had this. 

They hadn’t all been creeps, per se (though numbers 2 and 6 definitely had been) but they also hadn’t done anything to elicit any kind of spark in Carlos. They had been nice enough and reasonably good looking, but Carlos had decided a long time ago that good enough wasn’t worth the effort. If he was going to try and make a go of something with someone, they had to be someone who made him feel something. It had to be worth the risk. 

He was contemplating his abysmal luck when the next guy slid into the chair across from him. Carlos looked up and all coherent thoughts fled his head. This guy was... gorgeous was the only word Carlos could come up with that did him justice. Everything about him was perfect and Carlos couldn’t bring himself to look away. 

He eventually noticed the extended hand in what he sincerely hoped was a normal amount of time and took it, still studying him as he blurted out the first thought that came to mind: “I didn’t see you here before.” 

He definitely hadn’t been here when things were starting, Carlos would have noticed him in a crowd, he was absolutely sure about that. The other man smiled sheepishly, “yeah, I got here a bit late. I was trying to convince myself to actually come. My friends had to practically push me in the door.” 

Carlos chuckled, “My friend had to pretty much drag me here with her. Are your friends here?” 

“They’re at a bar down the street for ‘moral support’,” he responded with an eye roll, but a fond expression. 

“That’s so helpful.” 

“Isn’t it?” 

They both laughed again before Carlos suddenly realized they had yet to even exchange names, “I’m Carlos, by the way.” 

“TK, nice to meet you.” 

“That’s an interesting name. Does it stand for something?” 

TK grinned at him coyly, “It does, but that’s at least a level 4 backstory, and we’re barely at level one.” 

Carlos grinned back, feeling the quip come easily despite the butterflies definitely fluttering in his stomach, “Well, we’ve got some time to work on that. Personally though I recommend we skip over levels 1 and 2, those are mundane at best.” 

TK’s green eyes lit up as he laughed. The sound sent a shock through Carlos’s entire body and in that moment, Carlos decided he had been wrong. He owed Mya an apology: this had been an excellent idea after all. 

-----

His three minutes with TK had not been nearly long enough. When the bell had dinged he had nearly jumped out of his skin. He had been so absorbed in their conversation he hadn't noticed the passage of time. It felt like they had been talking all night, but also as if they had barely begun to talk at all. 

TK gave him an apologetic smile as he stood from his chair, “I guess that’s my cue. It was really nice talking to you though, Carlos.”

“Yeah, you too,” he responded. He hesitated for a moment as he studied the other man. In only three minutes he had felt more of a connection with TK than he had with people he had dated for weeks. Maybe it was that they were both first responders, maybe it was something else, but he wasn’t ready to let this go. So many things were mysteries, but Carlos knew one thing for sure: if he let TK walk away from him tonight, he might just end up regretting it for the rest of his life. 

“Would you maybe like to catch up when we’re done here? Maybe get a drink, talk some more?” 

TK paused mid-stride, raising an eyebrow, “You still have two more dates left, how do you know you won’t want to spend the evening with them instead?” 

“Call it intuition.” 

He could call it intuition or blind hope or desperation if he wanted, Carlos really didn’t care. He just knew in his gut that it was right, that TK was someone he needed to get to know more. TK was still considering him, and Carlos anxiously awaited his verdict. This was so far outside of his comfort zone and he was pretty sure that if TK turned him down he was going to head back to his condo tonight and not leave for at least two days, too buried in embarrassment and shame to face the outside world. But this felt worth the risk; he just hoped he hadn’t read these feelings wrong. 

Finally, after what felt like a lifetime passing in the moment of a breath, TK smiled. “I’d like that,” he said, “I guess bachelors 9 and 10 are out of luck for both of us then.” 

“Try to let them down easy.” 

TK laughed again, squeezing his shoulder as he walked away, “As long as you promise to do the same—getting turned down by you would be a tough pill to swallow, Carlos. Try to break their hearts gently.”  

-------

Carlos was still feeling the euphoria of TK’s smile 10 minutes later when a figure slid into the seat next to him at the bar. He turned eagerly, ready to see TK’s eyes again and felt disappointment, followed by instant guilt, when it wasn’t TK but Mya occupying the seat next to him. 

“Well that was a waste of time,” she declared as she slumped forward onto the bar, “you were right. I shouldn’t have dragged you here, I’m sorry. Wanna go get tacos at that truck you love to drown our sorrows?” 

“Actually,” Carlos began, but their conversation was interrupted by the sound of someone calling his same from behind them. They turned in tandem and Carlos felt his heart beat just a little faster at the sight of TK, who was looking between him and Mya. 

“Hey Carlos, I just wanted to see if you were ready for that drink yet. If you’re not we can...” 

Mya interrupted before TK could finish his sentence, “I was just leaving, actually. I’m Mya, by the way—Carlos’s partner and friend.” 

TK turned his gorgeous smile on her and held out a hand, “TK Strand, nice to meet you.” 

“TK’s a firefighter,” Carlos told Mya, biting back a smile as she raised an eyebrow and TK nodded, “I’m with the 126.”

“Well, TK Strand with the 126, take good care of my partner here. He’s pretty special.” 

“I’ve already gotten that feeling,” TK agreed, giving Carlos another grin that he felt straight through to his soul. 

Mya smirked as she stood from her seat, looking between them as she pulled out her keys, “I’d say have a good rest of the night, but I think that’s already a given. I’ll see you on Monday Carlos, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

“And that would be what, exactly?” 

Mya shrugged as she started to walk away, “I’m sure I’ll think of something.” 

“Text me when you get home!” he called after her. 

“Yes mom!” she called back as she reached the door. Before she opened it to head out into the Austin night she turned one more time and shot him a smile and a thumbs up. He rolled his eyes fondly, but nodded. Then she was gone and he turned all of his attention to the man beside him. He was grinning too and Carlos was starting to get the feeling that he might never get used to the things that smile did to him.  

TK slid into Mya’s abandoned seat and leaned closer to him, “So where do we start?” 

Carlos smiled back and waved down the bartender to get drinks for them. He wasn’t sure where to begin, but he had a feeling wherever it was would be the beginning of something great. He turned and caught TK’s eyes again, savoring the warmth that emanated from them. 

Tonight may have started out feeling like a mistake, but he was starting to think it may have actually been more like fate. 

[nuclidic]

Given that a lot of us are stuck inside with all this COVID-19 stuff, do you have any good TimKon fic recommendations to keep us more happily occupied?

Haha yes! I have this list from years ago but it is way past time for an update.

Disclaimer: these are just things I like, please heed all tags and warnings etc. I'm also not reccing any WIPs because unfinished fics kill me every time.

Crystal Clear by Merit andAnd I'll Tell You No Lies by caecily

Two short takes on soulmate tropes that have to go first because I love them so much, I love soulmate aus, Tim and Kon are soulmates, the end.

Where There's a Wish by LeeayreBeing Robin’s vessel is hard enough: the exhaustion, the life-threatening late night activities, the bruises and bullet holes and broken bones. Trying to hide all that from his incredibly suspicious, incredibly hot new roommate while maintaining his studies and placating his parents? Tim has never had it so hard. Especially since said roommate doesn’t actually know he’s Superboy.

So the setup for this is unusual, I'm not sure if it's based on anything but: superhero identities are Personas, independent (basically magical) personalities created by the wishes of a person or groups of people who act through hosts that have the will to manifest whatever that persona does. Basically: Robin is an independent persona, Tim shares his body with him and when Robin manifests the costume and all the gadgets appear. It's explained throughout the story, but just in case you start it and are like wtf is happening. This possibly should go in the thirds section because the actual pairings in this are: Robin/Tim, Red Robin/Tim, Tim/Kon, Red Robin/Tim/Kon, Red Robin/Superboy, and Red Robin/Superboy/Tim. Red Robin can also be kind of dubconny so watch out for that if it's a concern.

Wing Beats in Reverse by firefrightJason Todd is the third Robin, not the second, growing up in shadow of Tim Drake's death. Despite this, he still manages to form strong bonds with his new family. Especially Damian, who wishes to atone for his past mistakes with Jason's predecessor. But when he's fifteen, a mysterious red hooded figure kidnaps Jason from the rooftops of Gotham, and after that his life will never be the same again.

A Robin reversal AU (ie Damian is the eldest, Dick the youngest) that's Jason-centric but of course that doesn't lessen the Tim angst. Or the Kon angst when he finds out Tim is alive. Hopeful ending, but it doesn't fix everything.Other pairings: JayRoy, StephCass (barely)

Time Flies by by LaroyenaJon Kent is Superboy. Tim's gut instinct tells him that's wrong.(Timkon fix-it where reboot!Tim misses Kon like a phantom limb. And then he gets him back.)

Sometimes you just need to cry over the lack of Kon in your life and this fic provides the PERFECT excuse. Heartbreaking and then happy. (Also brings Colin back UNLIKE DC.)Other pairings: implied Clex

Not Completely Powerless After All by ChimaeraKittenNobody was quite prepared for the kid who runs the company to visit, but they manage, in fact, they might be pleasantly surprised; they weren't expecting him to be nice. Of course, they weren't expecting him to be a possible ninja either, but you gotta take the good with the bad.

Outsider POV!!! I have never watched Powerless so you definitely don't need to be familiar with it, this is just a glorious casefic told by someone who doesn’t know it’s a case.

Matters of the Heart by DMWith Clark off-world as an ambassador to Earth, Conner has to watch over Metropolis. Though it should be straightforward, there appears to be something amiss with seemingly random crimes happening around the city. Conner has a hunch that they’re connected and calls in his best friend to help. But as the two of them spend time together working the case, Conner realizes that his feelings for Tim might not be what he had thought.

A long casefic with feelings, basically everything I ever want.

Stumbling Home by bewaretheboojumIn his mid-twenties, Tim moves back to Gotham City after several years living abroad. He's feeling adrift, unfocused and a little off balance as he tries to re-establish a life in his home town.Kon is a fireman by day and superhero by night. When mysterious fires start cropping up in Metropolis, all signs point to arson. Who better to help him get to the bottom of this arson case than Tim? And really, it seems like Tim could use the distraction...

Another casefic with older TimKon. I didn't like the initial setup with Tim having abandoned his friends for years but it won me over in the end.

the honesty in your body by LaroyenaLuthor's tech saved Kon's life at the cost of his mind. Tim must take a feral Kon across space to restore his humanity... which is just as difficult as one may think.(Batman Omegaverse AU: unabashed TimKon porn detailing their original get-together in their early teens to their definite get-together in their late teens. But mostly porn.)

Yep, this is mostly omegaverse porn and it's excellent and I love it, I really don't know what else to tell you.Other pairings: BruDick

I'm Alone Here, I Think by unluckylokiSuperboy is fighting robots in San Francisco and remembers something that wasn't.There's a new priest in the Naxos temple appointed by Dream of the Endless.Kon is missing something. Tim is missing everything.One day Krypto practically drags Superboy to a remote island in Europe and there's a dark haired guy smiling at Kon like he knows him.Maybe he does.

Sandman crossover but I haven't read Sandman in 500 years so you don't need to know most of it. Kind of identity porn, but more...fraught. Excellent Tim angst (there...might be a pattern here) and I'll be honest I'm not very into all the witches and stuff but overall very enjoyable.

Nowhere But Forward by MishaBerryIt shouldn't have happened the way it did.When Kon finds Tim in Paris, it leads to a night that neither of them will ever forget, for better or for worse. Tim is then forced to confront something he's been denying about himself for a very long time, and Kon begins to question some things about himself. The road ahead is full of twists and turns, but there's nowhere to go but forward.

I really love long fics, but tbh I found this started to drag a little towards the end. I still enjoy it overall with delicious Tim angst.

Plus One SectionSometimes when pickings are slim we can try food we wouldn't normally eat, and sometimes it's delicious. Which is to say these are fics with Tim/Kon/Another Person. Don't go any further if this upsets your OTP soul, I completely understand.

TimKonBartTroika by glitterandlubeThis is kind of written like crack and definitely won't appeal to everyone, but it's a fix-it of preboot where instead of living with the Kents in Smallville and becoming the country boy of Teen Titans (2003) Kon moves to Gotham and then scores with Tim and eventually Bart. Follows the previous canon's timeline almost to the start of Red Robin. Some (honestly warranted) bashing of Steph but also of Lois Lane (???).Also contains explicit Tim/Dick.Other pairings: Clex, JayDick

TimKonCassieTrymmetry by glymrWhy do they feel like something's missing?

Set in a universe where Kryptonians form triad soulbonds. Kon and Cassie have both always been thinking about Tim when they're together, and after Kon comes back they can no longer deny it. They have to find Tim. I wish this was ten times longer.

JayTimKon

Heart of the Hoard by firefrightJason is a knight on a mission to save a captive young woman from a cruel and vicious dragon. However, when Jason reaches the keep the girl is kept in, it quickly becomes clear that not all is as it seems with his quest. For starters, Lady Timothea is actually Lord Timothy, and - as Jason soon discovers - he's hardly a prisoner in his tower.

Perfect because Kon is an ACTUAL DRAGON though it does lean on his YJ cartoon characterization.

I (Don't) Want to Believe by chibinightowl and strikeyourcolors

FBI agents Tim Drake and Conner Kent are sent to Arkham Heights High School to investigate a series of unexplainable incidents that have both staff and students on edge. Tim's firmly of the opinion the school is haunted while Kon is positive the occurrences can be explained in a more reasonable manner. After all, he doesn't believe in ghosts.Right? Right?

Horror casefic where Tim had a previous thing with Jason but also a thing with Kon so sharing is the way to go, especially when you're more (or maybe just equally) concerned about being murdered by ghosts in a haunted former asylum.

Okay I am stopping now because otherwise I will continue forever. I hope this satisfies some hunger.

[ks-caster]

It’s Like Watching Fanfiction – An (Un)Necessarily Long Critique of The 100 Seasons 6 and 7

Ah, the familiar cry of the content-starved fan, particularly as our favorite shows descend into the depths of mischaracterization, unexpected ships, hiatus, abrupt cancellation and shock-value death endings. I’ve said it myself about so many of my shows, while wanting to spend some time watching the characters but not wanting to re-hash episodes I’ve nearly memorized: “I wish I could just watch fanfiction!”

But the further into seasons 6 and 7 I’ve gotten, the more I’ve come to realize that my dream of having new and exciting possibilities for the characters come miraculously to a screen near me wouldn’t be the pleasant experience I’d imagined.

Now, depending on the type of ending you like – hopeful but with a lot of lose ends left to your imagination, or bittersweet but more definite, you could consider either seasons 1-4 or 1-5 their own complete stories.

Both seasons 4 and 5 ended in a way that suggested an unknown but likely positive future. They could have been considered conclusions for the main characters’ developmental arcs, and while season 5 went a little off the rails in terms of offscreen character development and sudden new characters, they both stayed fairly close to the original concept: survivors living in the ruins of the apocalypse. All four (or five) seasons emphasized the importance of the found family dynamic (although those dynamics shifted radically in season 5 due to the time-skip, they remained an important source of character motivation).

But seasons 6 and 7? Those feel like I’m watching fanfiction. And I don’t love it.

A story told on a whole new planet with a new environment, culture and cast of original characters was always going to feel like an AU – it sort of is, no matter how you swing it. If that was all that had changed, then I think the story would still feel cohesive.

If it weren’t for the timey whimey bullshit.

Now, fun fact: when reading fanfiction, I love time travel stories. I haven’t posted any myself but I’ve sought out and read them voraciously, for every fandom I’m in. I love the idea of characters meeting themselves or their friends at radically different ages, plot points and levels of experience and the way that changes things for both groups. (Yes, I’m also a Whovian if that wasn’t blatantly obvious). I also love a good amnesia arc. And I DID think that the Josephine/Clarke body possession thing was pretty cool.

So why did season 6 and most* of season 7 fall as flat for me as they did?

The simple fact is that some things – and characters’ emotional dynamics are one of those things – are so much easier to get across in writing than on screen. A good actor can make us feel the character’s emotions, but unless the film goes full-on Clarke’s mind space, we can’t really know what they’re thinking in individual moments. For the most part film as a genre has ways around this, but if it’s mishandled, then the emotional beats come off all wrong. (See for reference Tony Stark’s funeral where half the actors didn’t know what was going on due to Disney’s spoiler fears.)

If you’re going to include time skips in which things have happened and character dynamics have changed, you cannot handle it wrong.

Which brings us back to seasons 6 and (so far) 7 of The 100. So far to date we’ve had all of this occur either offscreen or asynchronously enough to be confusing to an audience watching the episodes in real time:

Jordan’s entire life prior to meeting Napkru in the waking world

Octavia’s character development while living on Skyring with the Diyozas

Hope’s first 22 years of life, on Skyring and (I presume) Bardo

Echo, Hope and Gabriel living on Skyring for 5 years with Orlando

Going back a little further, we also have the season 5 timeskip, which brought us Spacekru as found family, Clarke adopting tiny!heda, and Octavia building Wonkru. Now season 5 took care to show us Wonkru flashbacks and dedicate time to show Spacekru and the Griffin family loving on each other, making inside jokes etc. But it was still incredibly jarring for the audience in a lot of ways, because at the end of the day, we’ve spent four years with the character dynamics and development doing one thing, and no amount of telling us that they’ve had 6 years to do another thing while our time with them only lasted about one year in comparison is ever going to undo the importance of “show don’t tell.”

Let’s take Bellarkers’ beef with Becho for example. (Disclaimer: Since I don’t really have a strong opinion either way on the popular Bellamy ships, I hope that I’m representing what I’ve read from other people accurately.)

I understand cognitively that Bellamy and Clarke knew each other for one year (during which they were in a lot of intense situations that really didn’t leave them the emotional space to figure out how they felt about each other outside of “I don’t want to lose this person”) and Bellamy and Echo knew each other for seven years (six of which they had plenty of low-stress time to get to know each other, grow and mature side-by-side, etc.).

But that doesn’t compute on an emotional level when I as a watcher went straight from watching Bellamy and Raven tearfully eulogizing Clarke on the ring, to him turning up with a coffee mug and a plucky attitude to rescue her the second he finds out she’s alive and in trouble. I don’t think that could compute emotionally for me without having spent the last few years watching the dynamics shift and Becho happen. And that was with the writers giving me as a watcher an episode at the end of season 4 where Bellamy stops Echo from killing herself and connects with her on an emotional level, and then one at the beginning of season 5 where we got to see the spacekru dynamics, including them being together.

So we’re watching this show, many of us for the found family character relationships (god knows it’s not for all the positive happy feeling I get from watching *checks notes* ah, yes, characters having to constantly choose who to kill off in a string of increasingly huge and horrible genocides. *Side-eyes my life choices for getting into this fandom in the first place.*) Okay, we’re watching this show for the characters, and between seasons 4 and 5, many of those dynamics radically shift offscreen. Becho is the easiest and probably most talked-about example (well, and the Blake siblings, but the radical change shown in Octavia’s character between 4 and 5 makes that at least a little easier to choke down) but there are plenty of others, take your pick.

Although it makes perfect sense for a lot to change between separated groups of people in a half dozen years, it makes a lot less sense to an audience watching week to week, particularly when the show’s limited amount of screen time was too focused on plot to really delve into those changes and let us see and understand them. That was what made me think that the show was headed into jump the shark territory in season 5, but I really wanted to know what happened to my faves (Octavia, Raven and Memori, to be specific) so I kept watching.

Our fandom’s excellent writers spent the hiatus crafting mid-time-skip vignettes and missing character moments, and I spent the hiatus reading them. And I remember thinking that it would have been great if even a quarter of this content could have been put into the show to ease the audience into the dynamic shifts – but of course they’d never have the screen time to do all of that.

Especially, coming back to the main point, since written fiction allows the audience to see inside the characters’ heads, while television (usually) does not. It’s much easier to write a scene in which, say, two characters who have known each other for 7 years show that they’ve gotten into a relationship some time before the scene, and convince the audience that their relationship is good and healthy and genuine, than it would be to produce one for TV.  

And then we come to seasons 6 and 7 – the 2-part AU longfic, stuffed full of OCs, loosely connected to the “science” of the original show, and heavily reliant on memory-bending time travel as a plot device.

As season 6 airs, the audience hasn’t really had a chance to process all the radical changes from season 5, and already we have a Marper child running around furthering the plot, and Octavia walks into the Green Flash from Pirates of the Caribbean and walks back out with a personality transplant.

Meanwhile, Clarke gets an actual personality transplant, and it takes even the people closest to her a concerningly long time to notice. Now, if I’d read that in a fic, the writer might’ve taken care to remind me as a reader – particularly after a long hiatus between seasons – that with the exception of Madi none of Clarke’s friends have seen her for more than a couple of weeks in 6 years, so them not noticing for a while that she’s behaving strangely isn’t really all that strange. But on TV, I don’t get to see Gaia’s thoughts when Clarke lets Madi go to school despite the danger – Tati Gabrielle’s facial expressions can only do so much to make up the difference. Because the time spent apart was not (and really could not be, based on the structure of the show) properly acknowledged on screen, scenes like that one leave audiences floundering and pointing out bad writing.

Having watched 7x02 The Garden, I think if I went back and watched season 6 after Octavia returns from the Anomaly, her conduct – especially around Bellamy – would make a lot more sense. (That was the plan for this weekend actually – but my damn Wi-Fi conked out…) However at the time it just seemed weird and unnatural. Had it been the only example of off-screen or asynchronous character development, it would have been a lot easier to swallow. However, season 5 happened, meaning both that I was still getting used to all of the new dynamics and that I had a higher standard for Octavia’s off-screen development, because we got enough bunker flashbacks that I felt like I at least understood Blodreina.

What would have made the whole thing make a lot more sense a year ago would have been if the hair and makeup department had made an effort to make her look older, so that we could see time had passed for her. Now, Marie is 33 in real life, and so was the Octavia who figured out that up is down and got Davy Jones Locker to send her back ran out of the Anomaly, so yes, that is what an actual 33-year-old looks like, and the media has distorted my perception of age. But from an audience perspective, I saw an actress playing a 23-year-old go in, and the same actress playing the same 23-year-old come out.

Gabriel pointed out that her hair was longer, but that only accounted for a few months of time. Since she went in looking dirty, wounded and exhausted, and came out clean, healthy and energetic, she could have passed for younger before I would have thought she was older. (In fact, I want to say there was a theory circulating at that time that the Octavia who came out of the Anomaly was actually a younger version of herself, and she was missing memories because she’d never formed them. I don’t remember whose theory this was though. If you know or if it’s your content I’m referencing please feel free to let me know and I’ll edit!)

In addition, the shifting loyalties in Wonkru near the end of season 5 complicated the character situation – in season 6, the majority of Wonkru peeps (lookin’ at you, Miller and Indra) switched over to the commander’s side. While Indra didn’t really have enough screen time to express an opinion about Octavia, Miller was very clear in season 6 that she was anathema now – which although that was probably a semi-reasonable step for his character, it just felt like someone took his Bellamy-and-or-Clarke-following season 1-4 character and popped it into his season 6 costume without taking the time to address the road he took to get there.

Post-lockerAnomaly Octavia had to face and slay her demons. (Grumbles and links the interested reader to this POST from @osleyakomwonkru regarding that horseshit.) Afterwards, she shows a major shift in personality, particularly towards her brother. Because we as the audience wouldn’t see her time on skyring for about year in real time (or learn that she was ten years older and therefore a lot more mature, the chemical changes of which would account for at least some of the difference even if she couldn’t remember anything else) we had no choice but to associate her change with the slaying of Blodreina, which seemed like a ham-fisted way of forcing her a quick and slick redemption arc and prepping The Blake Siblings to go back to being ride-or-die for each other in season 7.

Raven’s season 6 personality was also radically different from her 1-5 development – while I understand her having a remaining beef with Clarke and being emotional due to Shaw’s death (RIP!) the fact that the writing in season 6 reduced her to the nagging shrew trope until they needed her to do a coding deus ex machina just added to the feeling that I was watching someone take the characters around, change them to their own preferences (even if that preference was to push some into the background and make them tools for the B-plot) and toss them into an AU story. Which I could have enjoyed more if I had been reading it and therefore seeing inside the characters’ heads – and if I hadn’t paid for the privilege with ad revenue instead of voluntary clicks of the kudos/like/reblog/comment buttons.

Another issue with time skip relationship is exposition for the lesser known characters’ backstories. Both seasons 6 and 7 have so far had dramatic character mother death reveals that were conveniently not told to their most important people specifically because the appropriate time to tell those stories would have been during the offscreen time skips. I will (grudgingly) accept Echo, an adult making a conscious (and familiar) decision to change up her personality to fit into and survive within her environment, choosing not to tell a traumatic story that reminds her of her past. (She’s my next meta – stay tuned!)

I will not in a million years, however, believe that the Clarke Griffin who I watched for four seasons be set up as the blatantly obvious “compassionate mom-friend protagonist” adopted a traumatized 6-year-old, moved into said child’s village, burned or buried the bodies of everyone who lived there, and never ever brought up the child’s dead birth parents.

No way. The ONLY reason that could have possibly been scripted in that way was because that conversation needed to be there for plot reasons and the appropriate time for it to have been had was during the 6 years they spent off screen. Similarly, while (again) I’ll buy that Echo chose not to talk about her mom’s death with Bellamy before he decided to be a dick about it, I fully believe that the timing of that conversation was only there because if it had occurred on the ring where it would have been more appropriate, the audience would have missed it.

Now, picture this: if the scene with Madi had been in a written fanfic, Clarke could have said “you didn’t lose me,” Madi could have said “I didn’t mean you,” and Clarke could have remembered Madi telling her the story of her birth mom dying in her arms. Then Clarke could have mentally made the decision that she didn’t want Madi to relive that in an attempt to empathize with her, and she makes an effort to convince her that she’s fine. In just 2 or 3 paragraphs a written story could have effectively conveyed both the exposition and the emotional beats of the scene, concluding with Clarke making a (maybe misguided but still sweet) attempt to be a good mom by not dredging that up for Madi (or something – I’m not defending the crappy and inconsistent writing of Clarke’s parenting we’ve on screen so far).

Moving right along, we had a lovely flashback montage of Hope and Dev, which was sufficient to make me (and several of the tumblrs I follow) care about Dev at least enough to be saddened by his death. However, what we didn’t get was a damn crumb of flashback showing Orlando and Anomalykru developing any kind of familial relationship between him agreeing to train them, and whatever dynamic we were supposed to pick up on at the end of that episode. I got a little protective big sister vibe from Echo and Hope but that’s it. They apparently expended their allotment of emotion-inducing flashbacks on the dead guy, and failed entirely to make me give a shit about (as it turned out) the next dead guy.

Now we’re going into an episode with Octavia on (presumably) Bardo in the promo, so I’m guessing we get to see her skyring-self link up with her return-to-Gabriel-with-clean-hair self. As least with Octavia’s jumping storyline it seems like the writers have consistently made some kind of effort to fill in the blanks.

But we’re also looking at the rest of the season where Echo, Gabriel, Hope, oh hi Jordan I forgot about you again, Diyoza, Octavia, and probably Bellamy and Hoth!Kru (AKA team let’s follow Raven onto a strange planet without putting on suits or having an exit strategy, yay!) have all experienced asynchronous development over periods of multiple years. Given the show’s track record from seasons 5 and 6, I strongly suspect that this won’t be handled any better, meaning that the final season of this show is going to try not only to resolve all the plot points, but to toss in a bunch MORE offscreen character development and hope we catch on.

Beyond character development jumps, we also have Raven and Murphy losing their seasons 1-5 development in season 6 only to have to re-learn and re-change back to who they already were in seasons 4 and 5. Murphy learned to value his spacekru family and stop putting himself first 100% of the time, and yet his arc in season 6 happened. Raven has always been involved in the big life-or-death decisions, and had her being-the-bad-guy moment in season 4 with the rationing, but as we saw in 7x03 the writers really wanted to… redo all of that for her? The girl blew up a bridge full of guys and flash-fried a 300-person army when she was 18; blood on her hands may not be fun but what’s with seasons 6 and 7 acting like it’s something new?

While I’m aware that Jason said his seasons are individual movies (don’t admit that you’re bad at continuity buddy ‘cause that’s what it sounds like) seasons 1-5 and 6&7 are clearly telling separate stories (or 1-4, 5, 6-7 if you prefer). The trouble with 6&7 is that unlike seasons 1-4 (and sort-of 5) we no longer know the characters. Every time someone sits still too long, character-development wise, plot comes along and hits the reset button, tosses them into a wormhole for a couple of years and they come back with the same face but no continuity. It was difficult enough to deal with in season 5 – between 6 and 7 I just can’t keep up. (Even writing this meta, I have to keep going back because I remembered another character who fell into this trap.)

Now if a fanfic writer had done the exact same thing – same plot, same time skips, same organization – it would have played out completely different to the readers. We could have gotten to see inside the character’s minds when they arrived back on screen, seeing things with new, older eyes. We could have had minimally invasive flashbacks to show important exposition (like the disaster that was the conversation about Madi’s mom) and verbal descriptions to point out differences like Octavia’s ten-years-older body. Additionally, the plots of seasons 6 and 7 are so different yet full of overdone callbacks to the earlier seasons – if a fan was writing their own AU story but still wanted some of the trappings of the original plot I’d get it, but on a TV show written by the same people it just feels like they ran out of ideas.

Watching seasons 6 and 7 is exactly like watching fanfiction would be – but without the written and fan-made advantages of fanfiction, they fall flat.

*I do like season 7 better than season 6 because the content of the individual episodes containing Murphy/Emori/Raven and Octavia/Diyoza/bbyHope was still enjoyable content, so 2 out of 4 I have liked so far, despite this very very long rant I’ve just written explaining why as a whole I rather hate the season overall.

[justheretobreakthings]

A Little Bruise Never Killed Anyone - Chapter 1

(Next Chapter) 

Inspired by this prompt by @promptsforyourwhumpfic and @the-wandering-whumper.

A Voltron: Legendary Defender fic Central Characters: Keith, Shiro (platonic Sheith) Genres: Whump, Angst, Found Family Word Count: 3,160 Read on AO3

Story Summary:

What started as a minor injury caused by a lucky hit from a bot during training turns out to be much graver than initally thought, and Shiro receives some startling revelations about his surrogate little brother.

Chapter Preview:

He fetched the blanket and approached Keith, still smiling softly. It was always nice to see Keith asleep, and even nicer when it was actually a peaceful sleep rather than the tossing and turning or the mumbling in his sleep that Keith was wont to do. Shiro lowered the blanket, ready to drape it across Keith and listening for that soft almost-snore he made while asleep, even though Keith adamantly denied that he could possibly be a snorer.

But before his hands could let go of the blanket, he paused.

Something was wrong.

“I’m fine.”

Keith had been repeating the line like an exasperated mantra as the team packed away their bayards and prepared to leave the training deck, the gladiators having long disippated away. “Seriously, it barely even hurts. I can do another round.”

“I dunno, Keith,” Hunk said, a touch of that signature Hunk worry in his voice. “That staff hit you pretty hard. I thought I might have heard something crunch.”

“That was my armor,” Keith sighed. “It sounds like that when you hit it at the right angle.”

“Well, that gladiator sure found the rightest angle he could, didn’t he,” Lance said, thumping Keith on the back and making the latter wince and bring a hand back up to his side where the gladiator had struck him. “Little off your game today, aren’t you, Mullet?”

“It’s what you get for pulling those late nights training,” Pidge commented. “Seems a sleepy Keith is a slow Keith.”

Keith rolled his eyes. “You’re one to talk. How many hours of sleep do you manage a night when you’re up staring at that computer of yours?”

“I dunno, three, sometimes four?” Pidge said. “But it’s different for me. First, because I’m a mutant and I have superpowers. And second, because I’ve got Coran feeding me Space Espressos by the gallon, and you don’t, mister caffeine-gives-me-headaches.”

Shiro, hovering nearby, frowned at her. “Exactly how much of that ‘coffee’ have you been drinking?”

“Enough,” Pidge answered with a noncommital shrug.

“Pidge – ” Shiro started, in that tone he always used when he was ready to launch into a lecture.

But Pidge held her hands up to cut him off. “Hey, hey, let’s not lose focus here. I’m not the one who went and took a wallop in training.” Keith shot her a betrayed glare.

Shiro sighed and turned back to Keith. “You’re sure it didn’t hit you that hard?” he asked.

“I’m standing, aren’t I?” Keith asked. “I’m not bleeding, am I? There’s nothing to worry about.”

“Let’s test it,” said Lance. “Keith, do a cartwheel.”

“Piss off, Lance.”

“I just want to make sure that bot didn’t knock your dexterity right out of your body.” Lance widened his eyes and pouted in faux innocence. “Because I care.”

Keith huffed in annoyance and turned back to Shiro. “You see what you’ve caused?”

Shiro couldn’t help himself from letting a small chuckle escape him. “Okay, okay, if you’re still up for catfighting with Lance, I guess you can’t be hurt that bad. But could you at least let me get you an ice pack for it?”

“Fine,” Keith relented. “If it’ll give you peace of mind or whatever.”

“It will,” Shiro said with a nod.

Lance let out a loud yawn, stretching his arms over his head. “Okay, if we’re done here, I’m wiped. Coran’s got a stock of those juice pouches set up in the paladins’ lounge, right? Who wants to join me for some refreshment and fellowship?”

Pidge and Hunk agreed and led the way out of the training deck, Lance peering back over at Keith before making a move toward the door. “You coming, Mullet?”

“Nah, I’m just gonna – ”

“Aw, come on, man, you haven’t done any after-training cooldowns with us in ages.”

“So?”

“So, keep it up and you’re gonna regress back to Hermit Keith and I’m not letting that happen on my watch. Come on, we’ve got juuu-uice,” he finished in a sing-song voice.

Keith sighed and looked to Shiro, as if hoping for a bail-out, but Shiro shrugged and cast him a little smirk. Lance wasn’t wrong; Keith did need to start spending more time with the paladins outside of training. Despite being out in space together all this time, the others still sometimes seemed to look at Keith as a practical stranger, and him always retiring immediately to his room after training didn’t help.

When it became clear Shiro wasn’t going to back him up, Keith turned back to Lance. “I kinda wanted to rest up.”

“You can rest in the lounge,” Lance said. “We’ve got couches.”

Another sigh. “Not gonna take no for an answer, are you?”

“I’m amazed it took you this long to realize it.”

“I’ll meet you there,” Shiro said, giving Keith a pat on the shoulder that doubled as a gentle little shove toward the door for him to follow Lance. Keith went with it, nodding to Lance and letting him take the lead out of the room and into the hall.

Shiro followed them out the door, ready to turn at a fork in the hallway to go to the kitchen and grab that ice pack, but he paused when he noticed Keith’s gait, the way he’d gone back to pressing his hand against his side, and seeming to favor the other side as he walked. Keith must have sensed him watching, because he turned his head to glance at him, then straightened up and dropped his hand to his side, giving him a forced smile.

Shiro frowned, but he didn’t say anything.

By the time he’d put an ice pack together and rejoined the others in the lounge, the rest of the paladins had spread out in the room, juice pouches in hand, each having claimed their own couch or cushion. He passed the ice pack to Keith, who had one couch all to himself, nestled in a corner in his underarmor. He nodded to Shiro as he took the ice, and grimaced at the cold when he pressed it to his side.

“You all right?” Shiro asked as he took a seat on the adjacent couch.

Keith groaned. “Shiro, for the last time – ”

“I know, I know, you’re fine. Just that you’re looking a little peaky is all.”

“Yeah, because I’m tired.”

“Then go ahead and nap, man,” Lance piped up from across the room.

Keith turned to him, eyes narrowed. “I’m not gonna fall asleep out here while you’re awake; you’ll probably just draw a moustache on my face the moment I’m out.”

“I wouldn’t do that while Shiro’s in the room. He’d ground me.”

“I’m not your dad, Lance,” Shiro said.

“Okay, but you sort of are.”

Shiro rolled his eyes, but he allowed Lance a small smile. “You do realize we overlapped a year as students at the Garrison, don’t you? I am not that much older than you.”

Lance shrugged. “All that tells me is that you probably would have grounded me during my Garrison days too if you’d had the opportunity.”

“Guess that depends on whether you did anything worth grounding you for.”

Lance smirked. “I suppose that’s the nice thing about being so far from school. I can’t get in trouble if, say, people found out I was the person who put that frog in Iverson’s coffee pot.”

“You’re kidding,” Shiro groaned.

“Well, hey, it’s not all on me. Hunk’s the one who caught the frog for me in the first place.”

“Hey!” Hunk cried. “Don’t blame me! Besides, it was Pidge who swiped the key to Iverson’s office for you.”

“And I have never regretted something less in my entire life,” Pidge said with a solemn nod.

Shiro sighed. “Whatever happened to the fact that Garrison students were supposed to be good role models?”

“We were good role models,” Hunk insisted.

“Yeah, just a different target audience,” Pidge said.

Shiro groaned again, leaning back into his couch cushion and shutting his eyes. “You know what, I don’t want to hear it. I was perfectly happy just imagining that you were all sweet little well-behaved model pupils.”

Pidge and Lance both burst out laughing, and Keith winced at the noise as he slowly sipped from his juice pouch. Shiro tried to catch his eye, but Keith didn’t seem to notice.

“Oh, Shiro,” Lance said. “Dear, sweet, Shiro.”

“How many stories do we have in our arsenal?” Pidge asked.

“Depends how much time we have.”

“All the time in the world, I’m sure.”

“Excellent.”

And that was their cue to jump into an anthology’s worth of stories about their time at the Garrison, often talking over each other as they tried to remember the details. Hunk at least had the decency to seem embarrassed about some of their more brazen exploits, while Lance and Pidge simply seemed utterly proud of themselves.

Shiro mostly just listened, throwing in his obligatory groans and scoldings when it seemed right, although, honestly, he found himself entertained. Keith, it appeared, didn’t feel the same way, since he remained looking bored the whole time. His eyes kept glazing over and his head would occasionally droop down onto his chest before he snapped it back up. Shiro felt just a little relieved when Keith finally took him and Lance up on their earlier suggestion of napping and slowly stretched out on the couch, rolling onto his good side so that he faced away from the group and not making a sound or a movement afterward.

The other paladins didn’t seem to notice, as they kept up their storytelling, right up until, in the middle of Lance’s vivid description of the night they got caught sneaking onto the school roof after they had gotten overconfident and built a blanket fort there, Hunk let out a long, loud, yawn, and Shiro noticed that he was blinking more often and more slowly, in an effort to keep his eyes open. A quick observation showed that Lance and Pidge were doing the same.

“All right,” Shiro said, cutting Lance off mid-sentence and earning himself a pouting glower. “As much as I enjoyed hearing all these new reasons to worry about that fact that you three have been entrusted with weaponry, it’s getting late. We should be heading to bed.”

Pidge rolled her eyes. “Weak. The night is young, Shiro, we’re just getting started.” She immediately contradicted herself with a yawn.

“Sure you are, Pidge,” Shiro said. He stood up from his chair and stretched. “Well, I’m going to bed, which means you’re losing your audience, so there’s probably not much point to staying up anyhow.”

“Damn, he got us,” Lance said, standing up as well. “But yeah, I’m with him. Gotta have time to get my face properly pampered before I wind up falling asleep.”

Pidge still grumbled under her breath as she stood to follow Lance out, but Shiro figured it was more for show than actual resentment. As the paladins moved to leave, Hunk gestured toward Keith, who was still out cold on the couch. “Should we wake him up?” he asked. “Or, like, carry him to his room or something.”

Shiro smiled. “Nah, we finally got him to get some sleep. Let’s not risk ruining it. He’s already made himself comfortable, might as well stay the night.”

“All right. You coming?”

“Yeah, just a tick.” Shiro scanned the room until he spotted a blanket draped over the armrest of one of the couches, a somewhat scratchy afghan-like comforter that Lance had dragged into the lounge last time he’d taken a nap in here and had never bothered to put away.

He fetched the blanket and approached Keith, still smiling softly. It was always nice to see Keith asleep, and even nicer when it was actually a peaceful sleep rather than the tossing and turning or the mumbling in his sleep that Keith was wont to do. Shiro lowered the blanket, ready to drape it across Keith and listening for that soft almost-snore he made while asleep, even though Keith adamantly denied that he could possibly be a snorer.

But before his hands could let go of the blanket, he paused.

Something was wrong.

Keith may have been still and quiet, but now that Shiro had gotten a closer look at him, it became clear that it wasn’t because he was peaceful. Quite the opposite. His eyes were wrenched shut, too tightly, and his messy bangs were plastered by sweat onto his pale forehead – paler than usual. His mouth was slightly agape in his sleep, and rather than any soft snoring or deep, somnolent breaths, the sound coming out was too fast, and raspy and almost whistling, as if Keith were breathing through a straw.

“Shiro?” Hunk called from the entryway. “Is everything okay?”

Shiro’s head shot up, and for a moment he couldn’t believe that he had been on his way to go bed; he was so wide awake now. “Get Coran,” he said, sharp and commanding.

“What? Why?”

“Keith. He’s – I think he’s sick. Get Coran, now.”

This time the urgency in his voice must have broken through to Hunk, because he hurried out into the hall. Distantly Shiro heard the voices of Lance and Pidge, although he couldn’t make out the words – probably just asking Hunk why he was running.

It didn’t matter. All Shiro needed to focus on right now was Keith. He wasn’t quite sure what to do, since he didn’t know what was actually wrong with him, so he ran through a mess of first aid tips in his head. He wasn’t supposed to move him, right? Or was that just for spine injuries? Weren’t there some occasions when you were supposed to elevate the legs? And Keith was asleep, or unconscious, Shiro couldn’t be sure; you were supposed to keep the person awake, right? If they had a concussion, that is. But wasn’t there something else they should stay awake for? God, it wouldn’t be so hard to remember his first aid training if he actually knew what was wrong.

Deciding that he couldn’t stand doing nothing, he opted for trying to rouse Keith to consciousness. He tapped gently against Keith’s face with his hand, saying, “Come on, Keith. Wake up. Wake up, Keith. I need you awake, buddy, come on.”

Eventually he was rewarded for his efforts when Keith let out a soft groan and pried his eyes open, slowly and with a strained expression, as if each eyelid weighed a ton. “That’s it, Keith,” Shiro said. “Stay awake. At least ‘til we figure out what’s going on. Okay? Keith, are you with me?”

“Yeah,” Keith responded, quiet and low and not bothering to make the effort of actually looking at Shiro.

“Okay. Okay, good, just – just stay with me if you can. Keith, how’re you feeling? Does anything hurt?”

Keith’s brows wrinkled for a moment in thought before he slowly answered, “Yeah.”

“What hurts?” Shiro asked, trying to keep the frustration out of his voice.

There was a long pause as Keith seemed to consider the question and then dismiss it, opting to simply groan again instead. He eyes started to slide shut, and Shiro had to tap at his face again, had to keep him awake until he knew for sure it was okay to let him sleep.

He sagged with relief with he heard a small commotion erupt near the entryway to the lounge, and looked up to see Coran hastening into the room, Hunk on his tail and wheeling a narrow stretcher from the med bay behind him.

“Let me have a look,” Coran said, all business, and Shiro moved aside so the other man could take over. “Any idea what happened?”

Shiro shook his head. “No, no, I don’t – he was almost fine a little while ago, and then he fell asleep and – and he was sleeping for a while, I don’t know how long he’s been like… this.”

Coran pursed his lips as he pressed a hand to Keith’s forehead. “What do you mean ‘almost fine’?”

“He, um, he’d taken a hard hit during training. Do you think this is – ?”

“Where was he hit?”

“In the side. Left side.”

Without a second’s hesitation, Coran took the hem of Keith’s shirt and lifted it up to bare the boy’s chest, and Shiro’s breath caught in his throat. On Keith’s side, ride near the bottom of the ribcage, was a dark, enormous bruise, mottled black and purple stretching out into a splotch the size of his hand.

“That’s – how did – ?” Shiro began, but Coran cut him off by turning to Hunk and barking, “The stretcher, Hunk. Help me move him.”

Hunk hurried to oblige, wheeling the stretcher around the couch and taking the initiative to grab Keith’s legs to lift as Coran carefully moved his own hands under Keith’s back. A gesture of his head toward Shiro acted as a command for Shiro to help him lift Keith’s torso, keeping it as still and steady as possible as they moved him off the couch and onto the stretcher.

They practically raced out of the lounge, their path to the med bay a blur. Shiro was vaguely aware of passing Lance and Pidge in the halls at one point, and them having shouted questions, but he paid them no mind. Right now, he had tunnel vision, and everything aside from him and the path to get him fixed up may as well have been nonexistent.

Once they reached the med bay, they made quick work of getting Keith out of his clothes and into a cryosuit. Hunk ducked out of the med bay for this, for which Shiro was grateful; Keith had always been pretty modest with his body, never even going shirtless unless he was swimming, and having any more sets of eyes on him than absolutely necessary while he was changing would probably have been mortifying to him if he were any more conscious than he was now in his dizzy, half-asleep state.

They got him into a cryopod in record time, and Shiro’s stomach was clenched as he watched Coran tapping away at the buttons and screen at the side of the pod, displaying the results of an examining scan and detailing what needed fixing in Altean symbols that Shiro couldn’t read worth a damn, so he had to wait until Coran spotted his desperately inquisitive expression before he got answers.

“Internal bleeding,” Coran said. “It seems one of his ribs fractured and had scraped into his spleen, and it hadn’t clotted. The fatigue and clammy skin were from blood loss. But the pod is on it, and he’ll be good as new in a jiff.”

Shiro let out a sigh of relief. “Thank God,” he sighed.

“It’s a good thing you checked on him in his sleep, though. The abrasion in the spleen wasn’t clotting; if he’d gone the night he could very well have bled out, or at least come near it.” He turned to frown uncertainly at Shiro. “You said he received this injury during training?” Shiro nodded mutely. “May I ask why you didn’t look to treat it sooner?”

Shiro swallowed and looked toward the cryopod that now housed the still and eerily floating form of Keith, looking no better than he had when Shiro had gone to set that blanket on him.

“He, um – he said he was fine,” Shiro answered softly, and only now did he fully realize just how stupid he had been to have believed him.

[my-one-love-is-music]

The Start of Something New Ch. 16

Um so hi. If you read my other ongoing fic, you'll know that I just recently graduated form college and had been swamped with schoolwork for the past month. But I'm back now and hoping to keep on track a regular editing schedule which I think will be entirely possible.

I hope that you enjoy the new chapter because it was fun to work with some of the things that I did with it so please enjoy!

Also on AO3!

Keith wiped the back of his hand across his forehead as drops of sweat threatened to roll into his eyes. He stared at the space where the previous practice droid had disappeared. A graphed outline appeared before the next droid materialized. Keith grit his teeth and centered his weight underneath his hips, tightening his grip on the staff in his hands.

The droid twirled its staff in his hand before it rushed forward, aiming to bring it down on Keith’s head. Keith dropped his center of gravity and braced the staff over his head, taking the weight of the blow against him. He dropped lower and shifted his weight, sweeping one of his feet out to catch on the legs of the droid. It jumped out of reach of Keith’s leg, taking the pressure off his staff.

He heard the door slide open behind him, but ignored it. He flicked his staff to the side and rushed forward, ducking under the swipe the droid made for his head. He gripped the far end of his staff and used it to press up into the stomach of the droid. Blue, graph-like cracks appeared in the exterior before it shattered into a thousand pieces and disappeared.

Keith heaved a breath and pushed himself to his feet, shoulders sagging in exhaustion.

“End training program,” he called before another droid could appear.

“Want some water?”

Keith turned around and found Shiro leaning against the wall next to the door with a drink pouch clutched in each hand. He nodded, stepping over to the racks of equipment to hang the staff from the hooks before he walked over to Shiro and accepted the drink. They both dropped down onto the bench set into the wall, Keith more heavily than Shiro.

“How long have you been at it?” Shiro asked, once he’d given Keith time to suck down a good portion of the drink.

“A couple hours, I think?” Keith said. “I kind of lost track of time.”

“Well you’ve improved a lot lately with your skills in fighting.”

“Really?” Keith asked. “It doesn’t always feel like it.

Shiro nodded. “For sure. You look like you have a lot better handle on how you handle your physical space. You probably wouldn’t have too much difficulty with starting actual sparring with someone.”

Keith ducked his head to try and hide his smile. “If you think so…”

Shiro chuckled. “Before you know it, you’ll be strong enough to fight the Galra too.”

Keith sipped at his drink for a moment. Facing the Galra didn’t seem as bad as it used to. “Maybe I will be.”

Shiro smiled at him when he glanced up. “If you want to get cleaned up we could go get something to eat,” Shiro said.

Keith nodded and pushed himself off the bench, arching his back to work out the soreness that was slowly settling into his muscles. His legs felt wobbly and he groaned a bit.

Shiro gave him a knowing look before opening the door for them.

Keith slowly regained the feeling in his legs as they continued down the hallway. Shiro kept pace with him easily, hands swinging at his sides. Keith glanced down at his hand out of the corner of his eye. He bit his lip and took a sip of his drink pouch. His pinky twitched before he reached out and caught Shiro’s hand mid-swing.

Shiro started a bit and looked down at their linked hands together. He smiled and squeezed Keith’s hand in his, linking their fingers together. Keith took a sip of his drink to try and hide his pleased smile.

The kitchen was empty when they turned the corner and Shiro pushed him towards one of the stools in front of the counter while he pulled out a pair of plates for both of them. He set them down on the counter with a wave of his hand and more flourish than necessary. Keith smiled and perched his chin in the palm of his hand.

Shiro reached underneath the counter and pulled out the nozzle for the goo and twirled it in his hand. Keith chuckled and watched as Shiro aimed the nozzle at the plates and squeezed the handle. The force of the nozzle pushed Shiro back and the goo completely missed the two plates, spraying all over the counter. Shiro dropped the nozzle and Keith laughed, wiping the goo that had splattered onto his cheeks.

Shiro looked more than a little startled at the mess in front of him.

“Oops,” he said.

Keith pushed himself off the stool he was sitting on and walked around the counter. Shiro smiled sheepishly and Keith reached up and wiped away the few splatters of pink goo that had hit his cheek.

“Guess it takes a little more skill to handle that.”

“Maybe you should just leave the food prep to Hunk,” Keith said.

“I think that might be a good idea,” he agreed.

Keith froze when an alarm blared over their heads. Shiro’s smile dropped from his face and his lips thinned.

“All Paladins report to the main deck,” Allura’s voice said, ringing out over the speakers.

“Shit,” Shiro said. He gave an apologetic look to Keith. “Looks like lunch is going to have to wait for later.” He ducked his head and pressed a kiss to Keith’s cheek before he hurried around him and out of the kitchen.

Keith sighed and didn’t take more than a minute before he turned on his heel and ran from the room. He’d already lost sight of Shiro, but the alarm stopped sounding overhead before he made it to the main deck.

The rest of the paladins were already assembled together and Keith braced a hand against the door to the deck as he fought to catch his breath. The screens were filled with an image of a small planet that was being guarded by a small fleet of Galra ships. It wasn’t a sizable force, but wasn’t small enough that they would easily roll over at the sight of Voltron.

“From the small amount of intelligence we’ve gathered, this planet has been under Galra rule since the end of the war. These fleets are the last remaining force guarding this planet and they raid any cargo ships which pass by in order to keep them going,” Allura said.

“From what we can tell, the fleet you see before you is most, if not all, the Galra forces that have kept control over this planet. If it’s not all of the forces, there might only be a handful of guards in a communications setup on the planet. Either way, don’t let yourselves underestimate what we’re dealing with,” Coran elaborated.

“Paladins, to your Lions,” Allura said, turning to face the group.

Keith watched as the Paladins hurried over to their chairs and dropped into the floors to be taken to their hangers. He walked forward once they’d disappeared and stepped up next to the platform Allura was standing on.

“Keith,” Allura said, catching his attention.

He looked up at her and nodded.

“How’s your training going?”

Keith fiddled with the ends of his sleeves and shrugged.

The five Lions swooped into view in front of the Castle and the Galra ships immediately started firing at their appearance.

“Activate particle barrier,” Allura said.

Coran typed in several commands and the blue shield materialized around the Castle where they hung in space. The lasers that managed to reach the barrier from the ships who were trying to aim at the Lions were harmlessly absorbed.

The Paladins didn’t immediately form Voltron and instead jumped into the fray amidst the ships. Keith watched as the Blue Lion used its tail to fire laser blasts. The Yellow Lion rammed into several ships and forced them into each other’s paths, created a large explosion that destroyed both ships. The Red and Black Lions worked in tandem, using their claws to cut through the sides until each half went up in flames.

The Green Lion worked with a mixture of laser blasts and claw attacks to work through the ships that got in its way. All of the Lions wove expertly through the melee, avoiding any sort of contact unless they initiated it.

Keith sucked in a breath when he saw a ship get around the Red Lion, but a shot from the Green Lion took down the attacker behind Matt.

“Thanks, sis,” Matt said, voice ringing out over the intercoms and making Keith startle since he hadn’t realized how little the Paladins had actually been talking to each other.

“You’d be lost without me,” she shot back and Keith could hear the smile in her voice.

“I think we all would,” Shiro added with a chuckle. “But for now let’s focus on taking down the rest of these ships.”

“If the rest of you keep talking, I’ll singlehandedly take down the rest of this fleet,” Lance said. “Stop sleeping on me guys.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Matt said. “I’ve easily cut through half of this ships myself.”

Keith smiled, feeling some of the worry dissipate that had originally formed when the alarm had sounded and the Paladins had boarded their Lions.

The Blue Lion made a show of turning and firing off five shots in a row, leaving a trail of flame above the planet they were trying to keep under their control. The Green Lion flew around him and made quick work of a cluster of ships close together.

Within minutes, the rest of the ships had been taken down by the Paladins, leaving nothing but flaming debris in their wake. The five Lions flew close together in a cluster, looking over the scene in front of them.

“Excellent work, Paladins,” Allura said over the comms. “Descend to the surface planet and assess the situation for any other Galra. I’ll prepare a pod and come down to meet you in order to establish and form diplomatic relations with the inhabitants of the planet.”

“Yes, Princess,” Shiro answered.

“Coran,” Allura said, turning her attention towards him. “Stay here and scan the area around the planet for any approaching ships or other threats. If you find anything, let us know right away so Voltron may address the threat. Send a message to the Alliance that we’ve found another planet and are initiating outreach.”

“Of course, Princess,” he said, pulling up another window to prepare a message that would be sent of immediately.

Allura turned toward Keith next, catching him by surprise. “Keith,” she said with a smile. “Would you like to accompany me to the planet? There might be some assistance you can offer to those on the planet or give additional backup to us in case any small fights or altercations break out.”

Keith nodded.

“Excellent. Follow me down to the pods and we can get you an armored suit to change into and a weapon suited to your liking.” Allura turned towards the hallway and Keith hurried after her, forgetting the exhaustion that had plagued him moments ago. They walked through a maze of hallways Keith hadn’t seen before, or if he did, didn’t remember.

They reached an armory first that was stocked with various suits and pieces of weaponry. Allura moved over to the suits and Keith looked over the weapons, reaching for a staff like the one he’d been practicing with before. The first one he picked up felt oddly weighted and he tried to balance it in his hand before putting it back in favor of the next one. This one was more suited to what he’d worked with and he twirled it in his hands, making a few practice swings to get a feel for it.

Satisfied, Keith smiled and tightened his grip on it. He turned and found Allura holding up a suit in front of her. It looked like the ones that the other Paladins and Allura wore, but instead of the colored accents on the plates of armor, this one was solid black.

“This should fit you,” she said, handing it over. “You can get changed behind that curtain and then we can get in the pod transport for the planet.”

Keith nodded and walked over to the changing room, leaving the staff outside. He pulled the curtain shut behind him and began to pull off the thin suit he’d been wearing since he’d arrived on the ship. The armor was more form-fitting and stiff and made Keith feel a little self-conscious about how skinny he still was, but it did offer more bulk than he had. He eyed himself in the mirror, knowing he couldn’t take too long before he pushed back through the curtain and grabbed his staff.

“Does that fit okay?” Allura asked.

He glanced up at her and nodded.

“Excellent,” she said and walked back towards the hall. Keith hurried to keep up with her, but they only turned a couple more corners before they were at a line of pods. Allura typed in several things on the keypad and the doors opened.

Allura took the pilot seat and Keith sat next to her. The amount of buttons and tools around them overwhelmed Keith, but he was relieved he didn’t have to do anything as Allura knew exactly how to pilot the pod.

The doors shut behind them and the pod dislodged from the Castle, drifting into open space before the thrusters powered up and directed them towards the planet. Little debris was left in the space where the ships had been and Allura ignored what was around them as they broke through the atmosphere and hurtled towards the surface of the planet, slowing as they reached a landing point to come to a gentle stop among the Lions the Paladins had already set down before their arrival.

“Paladins, what is the situation?” Allura asked as they stepped out of the pod.

“We found a small group of Galra who’d set up base in the main building,” Shiro said, voice sounding strained over the comms. “Other than that, it doesn’t look like any other bases are set up on this planet.”

Allura spotted the circular roof of the largest building set further back into the city. She took off in that direction and Keith followed closely behind her, eyeing the buildings around them as they moved into the streets bordered by clustered businesses and residence houses.

“We’re on our way and should arrive in a few ticks,” Allura said.

“We?” Shiro asked.

“No time for questions,” Matt interrupted. “Give me a hand over here.”

Keith tightened his grip on the staff he held closely at his side. He caught sight of a few curious onlookers peeking through their curtains to get an idea of what was going on. He hoped they would be welcoming once they realized they were here to help them.

They turned the last corner and found the main building looming over them where the buildings broke apart to give space to it. The front doors of the building were hanging open and a single Galra soldier could be seen collapsed on the front steps.

Allura and Keith hurried through the open doors and heard the fighting further in. As large as the building looked on the outside, it was easy to navigate. Keith rounded the corner ahead of Allura and ducked as a blaster shot aimed for his head and ricocheted off the wall behind him, sending down a spray of stone dust from the wall.

He acted without thinking and cracked the end of his staff across the side of the soldier’s head. He stumbled backwards and Keith brought the staff down again on top of the soldier’s head with a loud crack, leaving him to crumple to the ground.

Allura ran past him to join the fray that was in the next room. Keith kept an eye on the doorways around them as he followed after her. As soon as he stepped through the open doors he found all of the Paladins engaged with Galra soldiers. They were outnumbered, but keeping up with them well as a few of the soldiers were already limp on the floor.

Keith spotted someone working on the makeshift computer that they’d set up and he could see him composing a message and programming a beacon. He sprinted forward, sliding easily between the individual fights as no one gave the newcomers much notice, if they even knew they were there.

Keith swung his staff over his head and cracked it against the Galra’s side. He flinched but didn’t move away, trying to go back to typing, but Keith swept his feet out from underneath him. He stumbled to the side away from the computer and Keith planted himself in front of it so he wouldn’t get back to it so easily.

He growled and pulled out a blaster that Keith knocked out of his hands before he could fire, cracking the staff against the side of his head. He fell to his knees and clutched the side of his head as blood started to run down the side of his face. He tried to push himself to his feet, but Keith smacked the back of his neck, sending him slumping to the ground.

“Keith?”

He looked up at his name and found Shiro staring at him in shock, his Galra hand at the ready. The rest of the soldiers were quickly becoming subdued and Keith smiled sheepishly, shrugging at the attention even as his heart pounded in his chest.

“Well,” Matt said, walking over and throwing an arm around Shiro’s shoulders after kicking a soldier to the ground. “Looks like your boyfriend is pretty badass.”

Keith flushed and looked away.

“I know,” Shiro said, a little breathless.

“Why don’t you three stop standing around and help us get these guys tied up,” Pidge called from where she was tying the hands of unconscious soldiers.

Shiro cleared his throat and shrugged off Matt’s arm before getting back to work.

“I’ll go scope out the rest of the rooms,” Allura said. “Keith come with me?” she asked.

He nodded and followed after her down the hallway, biting his lip to hide his smile at seeing Shiro in such awe.

If you enjoy my work, please reblog or consider buying me a ko-fi!

[cc-kouga-blog]

These Are The Days 1/9

This is my fic for @quietrook as part of the Pynch Secret Santa moderated by @pynchsecretsanta .

It’s a bit late because a) I had to visit the dentist and b) this fic grew legs and ran away from me at the last minute. Also, I forgot my AO3 password so I have to do this on tumblr.. sorry

I don’t know if I succesfully incorporated any of the prompts, but hopefully it’s close enough. I will upload more parts soon-ish

Hope you enjoy this one Rook 😊😊😊😊

———————————————————————————

These Are The Days

Three days after his Aglionby graduation, Adam Parrish moved in to The Barns.

It wasn’t an easy decision to make for Adam. His apartment above St. Agnes was small and sad, but it was all his. It was the symbol of his independence. (He tried not to think too much about that one instance where Ronan secretly helped with the rent so he could pay his tuition). Moving in with Ronan felt like he gave up part of that independence, and one thing Adam Parrish hated as much as pity, was to be dependent on someone else.

But Ronan had approached him without his usual barb and instead presented two sheets of paper. On top of one, written in Ronan’s hand were the word ‘PROS’. There were only 4 items listed there.

- No rent = more money for text books.

- Excellent living conditions including but not limited to : decent mattress, decent pillows, air conditioner, fridge, TV.

- More time to spend with Opal and Chainsaw. (Ronan’s name was glaringly missing).

And the last one was written in a much smaller size than the rest. Adam had to squint to be able to read it.

- More time to make out with your boyfriend. If you want.

The other paper had ‘CONS’ on top and nothing else.

Ronan tried to act nonchalant as Adam read the short list, but he couldn’t quite mask his anxiousness. Adam re-read the list again and had to bite his lips to stop the grin threatening to take over his face.

“Are you sure there’s no con to this?” He asked.

Ronan scoffed. “It’s a fucking perfect plan Parrish.”

“I don’t know. You might snore.”

Ronan gave him a peculiar stare. “You know I don’t sleep much.”

Adam had to backtrack on that one. That way lied terrible memories he rather not discuss just yet, so he just shrugged. The offer bruised his pride a bit, but Adam had learned to bend. He was smart enough to realize that compromise was the key when dealing with Ronan.

In few short months he would be leaving for college, that meant leaving Ronan. He could finally admit to himself that he wanted Ronan, and it was obvious Ronan wanted him back. So he let himself be selfish and took whatever Ronan offered him. Adam needed to hoard the memories, the feels, and the taste of Ronan for those days they would spend apart.

“I don’t know, I might need a bit more convincing.” He finally said while rubbing his chin in mock seriousness.

“Oh?”

“Yeah. Especially the parts about the mattress and the making out part.” Adam’s eyes glinted mischievously.

The tip of Ronan’s ear pinked nicely, but he didn’t hesitate to grab Adam’s hand.

“If you’ll follow me. I can be persuaded to convince you.”

Later, when they were curled up shirtless on Ronan’s bed, Adam nuzzled at Ronan’s neck.

“Okay, I’ll move in.” He whispered.

Ronan kissed the top of Adam’s head. “Fucking perfect.”

***

Adam Parrish’s summer days used to be something like this.

Woke up early for work. Worked until lunch break. Ate half a sandwich for lunch. Worked until afternoon. Took a one hour break to rest his weary bones before going back to work. Came home late at night to do his summer reading while eating the last half of the sandwich. A quick shower and then sleep. Repeat.

But since he moved in with Ronan, his schedule changed quite a bit. It went more like this.

Woke up early for work. Ronan was already downstair with two stack of pancakes and two glasses of orange juice. A thermos of coffee, ready to go, was inconspicuously left on the counter. 7 minutes of breakfast and a short kiss later, he went out the door.

Adam worked until lunch break. When he walked out of his workplace, Ronan and Opal would be waiting outside with a bag of takeout food, usually burger, fries and milkshake. They would sit at the curb, with Opal in the middle, munching on the burger wrappers and the milkshake lids. Sometimes Chainsaw would flew in and joined them. Ronan would feed him his fries and they would get looks from passerby. Adam knew they made quite the spectacle, and for once he didn’t care.

After lunch, Adam worked until afternoon. Ronan and Opal would be off to do some mischiefs but they would return just in time to pick Adam up for his one hour break. Though it stretched to two hours now and used for grocery runs, or a short library visit, or a quick peruse at the local music store or a drive around Henrietta, where Adam would take a nap in the passenger seat while Opal pointed at various things outside the windows, saying “Kerah! What is that?”.

When the two hours were up, Ronan would drop Adam at his next workplace. After another short kiss, Adam would exit the BMW and returned to work. He came home just in time for dinner. After dinner was bonding time with Opal over TV, with Ronan keeping a running commentary in the background. Then it was bedtime, which meant making sure Opal brushed her teeth before tucking her in.

A quick shower later, Adam was ready for bed. Ronan would be waiting in bed for him, all soft smile and warm eyes. A few minutes of just kissing and touching, before Adam sighed and burrowed into Ronan’s embrace.

“Good night.”

A kiss on top of Adam’s head.

“Good night.”

Lights out.

Repeat.

Oh, except on Sunday.

On Sunday, Ronan woke up early for church. Adam had taken the day off and he would be downstair waiting with bacon and eggs and coffee. Ronan would leave after they exchanged a kiss. Then it was laundry time. Opal would ran circles around Adam while he hung the clothes.

When it was done, he and Opal would go on a small adventure; traipsing in the woods surrounding the Barns, digging around in the fields, or petting baby mice in the barns. Sometimes they would collect pebbles or pick up wild flowers to bring home. The pebbles went to an empty fishbowl sitting at the kitchen’s window sill. The flowers would go in a green vase to be put on Ronan’s bedside table. Then Adam would cook something up for lunch while Opal cleaned herself up.

Around mid-morning, the Lynch brothers would arrived. Declan would shake Adam’s hand and Matthew would twirl Opal around. Then the brothers would have some bonding time which included lots of swearing (Declan and Ronan), protesting (Ronan and Matthew), and laughing (all three) while Opal helped Adam prepared lunch. After, they all sat down for lunch and catch up on each other lives. It was nice, it was homey. Once lunch was finished, Declan would help Ronan with the dishes while Matthew read a storybook for Opal. Declan and Matthew stayed until afternoon, before they drove back to D.C.

Then it was Ronan helping Adam fold the laundry while Opal played with the crayons; Declan bought her a coloring book and Adam had showed her how to color, but she mostly ended up nibbling the crayons instead. It was a relaxing time for Adam. He and Ronan would talk about nothing and everything, trading bad jokes and funny stories.

They would have a bit of time before dinner. Adam usually used it to research college stuff or just lounging on the couch, reading. Ronan spent it watching shows about cars, with his head lying on Adam’s lap. This was Adam’s favorite time. Where everything was quiet and warm and right. Sometimes Opal would worm her way between Adam and Ronan. Ronan would curse because her hooves kicked him in the shins, or Adam would yelped because her elbows dug painfully into his side. In the end all three would end up snickering in a tangle of limbs on the too small couch while Chainsaw observed from her perch on the back of the couch.

And Adam would be overtaken by awe, because this was his life now. This was his family. This brilliant boy and magical girl and beautiful bird. They were his as much as he was theirs. Adam had found a place where he belonged. He was known, and he didn’t mind at all.

[vgcam]

Fanfic: October Thirteenth

This is a response to @txf-prompt-box 10/13 challenge. Prompt: Mulder’s Birthday and must be 1,013 words (Mine is, not counting the title and that’s based on my word processor… Not easy at all.). Story time frame: mid season one. It’s mostly sweet in flavor. Also tagging @today-in-fic and @fictober

“So, when’s you’re birthday?” Agent Scully asked all of a sudden.

Fox Mulder had been busy packing the few items for their stakeout as they were about to leave the 7 Eleven. He was completely caught off guard by her question. “It’s funny that you’re asking this today of all days. Today’s is actually my birthday. I’m guessing somebody tipped you off?” he turned around and glanced at her, trying to see if his hunch was true. He was very good at reading a person’s body language, and to his surprise, it seemed her query wasn’t based on previous information. It was just pure coincidence.

“No. Nobody tipped me off. If they would have, I would have insisted somebody else take this duty,” she told him. “I don’t get it. Why would you want to do this today? Don’t you want to go out and get drunk with your buddies?”

He let out a sad snort. “This is a lot more fun, don’t you think?”

She gazed at him, her face a mixture of pity and compassion. “Mulder?”

Yey, me. I’m a heart breaking sob story, he cheered miserably in his mind.

“Scully, we’ve been working together for how long now?”

She looked thoughtful. “About six months give or take.”

“Have you ever known me to have a life?”

“Mulder, I assumed you had something. I didn’t want to pry.”

He wasn’t sure he could even respond to her assumption. It was too depressing a thought as it were.

“I’m sorry,” she told him as they got out of the convenience store.

He smiled glumly. “What for? It’s not like my predicament is any fault of yours.”

She didn’t respond and he felt somewhat bad for making her feel uncomfortable by his smart-ass retort. Sometimes he wasn’t able to get over his bitterness. It wasn’t really fair on Scully who had turned out to be the one person who actually did care about him. Ironically she cared for him far more than his parents did. Sometimes he didn’t know why Scully hovered over him so much. He was far than an easy person to be with. He constantly made snide comments at her. He enjoyed showing off his smarts and his experience. Even though she proved her worthy to him, he still picked on her re her assignment as a spy, put there to debunk his work on the X-Files. And yet, she clung to him and this job, despite the fact that he was hard on her and the fact that she was also receiving the same treatment he was from the rest of their colleagues.

They got into their rental and proceeded to their target in somber silence, his brooding mood oozing on to her. This was going to be a sad affair of a stakeout, he noted to himself, and it was all thanks to him and his bleak attitude. He sighed, resigning himself to a long night of sullenness. He figured he deserved this. At least he excelled at self-flagellation, but he wasn’t quite sure this was something to be proud about.

They arrived at their destination, and for a while they sat in silence, each of them staring out of the car window on their side while taking a great effort to keep their gazes apart, until he couldn’t take it anymore.

“Scully?”

“What?” she asked, her gaze still stalking the moonlit street outside.

“The last time I celebrated my birthday was before Samantha was abducted.”

Scully turned her head and their gazes met.

“I don’t know if it was deliberate or not, but I think that my parents just weren’t able to continue with this tradition after Sam was gone. It was a mixture of mourning and guilt. Their mourning. My guilt. It was like an unwritten pact. Nobody said it, but neither of us were able to go back to anything that we’d done before,” he revealed. “My birthday was just another day on the calendar. I’d slowly dissolved my connections with my school friends from before, and this just made the dissolution of my birthday festivities a lot easier.” He told her, a weary smile flitted across his lips.

Scully’s eyes glistened in the moonlight. She didn’t speak, but he could tell she was working very hard on holding back the tears that were already welling at the corners of her eyes. Yes. It was a sob story, but he appreciated her just listening and not saying a word. It was enough that she listened.

They continued sitting there in silence for a while. At some point he felt her hand gently touching his, than gradually her light touch turned into a squeeze. He hadn’t expected this, but he found her touch comforting. He didn’t feel that she was feeling sorry for him. Instead he realized she was just there to offer him her shoulder. She was a friend. A buddy. He was with his buddy on his birthday. It was strange, yet just the way he needed it.

“I’m hungry,” she announced when another stakeout hour had passed. “What about you?”

“I could do with some grub, I guess.”

“Egg-salad sandwich?” she asked.

“Yeah. That sounds fine.”

Scully rummaged through the paper bag that lay between her legs on the floorboard, while he kept his eyes open for anything out of the ordinary outside.

“There you go,” she told him. “One non-home-made-egg-salad sandwich.”

He turned around, about to grab his late night snack and was surprised at what he saw before him.

A tiny flashlight was stuck inside the 7-Eleven sandwich, as if it were a makeshift candle and it cast a strange light on Scully’s smiling face.

He stared at her, confused.

Her smile widened. “Thanks for letting me spend your birthday with you, Mulder.”

He didn’t know what to say. All he knew was that this was the first birthday in a long time where he felt he had a family to be with. He felt the corners of his lips curl up in response.

Scully’s expression mirrored his. “Happy Birthday, Mulder.”

[the-witty-pen-name]

Can’t Help Falling in Love

Loki x Reader (Gender Neutral)

Summary: When Loki learns the traditions of Valentine’s Day, he asks you to be his Valentine- and reluctantly takes advice from Steve Rogers. 

Warnings: none; just fluff

Word Count: 2.9k

A/N: Thank you to @squadleaderchase​ for the suggestion! This was so fun to write!

Happy Valentine’s Day everyone!

I recommend listening to Can’t Help Falling in Love by Elvis Presley towards the end of this imagine!  

There is also a female reader version of this fic, available here!

“Can’t Midgardians have a holiday that doesn’t involve such a grotesque display of… red?” Loki asks walking into the living room of the Avengers compound. Loki arrived at the compound a few weeks before Christmas and so far, he’s experienced two Earth holidays: Christmas and New Year’s. Of course, Tony had picked the theme for both parties to be elaborately red and gold- he claimed the fact that it matched his suit was merely a coincidence.

“Just wait until next month,” you reply casually, your eyes not leaving the brief you were reading while you sat cozied up in one of the large armchairs. “I think you’ll like St. Patrick’s Day much more… color scheme wise at least.”

Loki looked up curiously at the hearts of all shades of red and pink Natasha had hung up to decorate the Avengers’ living quarters. She had gone to visit Clint’s family and his kids spent hours making Valentines and decorations out of construction paper and glitter. Loki looked almost puzzled at the lopsided hearts that hung from the ceiling on transparent line so they looked like they floated mid-air.

“Perhaps I might,” he mumbled to himself, the lovesick aura of his surroundings making him slightly disgusted. “Though I suppose I find your rituals as bizarre as you’d find on Asgard.”

“Mhmm,” you mumbled in response to his thinking out loud. It was rare that the compound would be this quiet. It was a Friday evening and in the middle of a team meeting earlier today, Tony declared exhaustedly that everyone needs to start the weekend early and dismissed everyone despite Steve’s protests. You weren’t sure where everyone else went and you didn’t particularly care- enjoying the rare peace and quiet.

You didn’t mind Loki’s company. He was a little aloof but overall, you found him more to be misunderstood than anything else. He wasn’t like Thor and sure, he had a very trouble ridden past to downplay it- but he’s confided in you all it wasn’t entirely his doing. Out of everyone living at the compound, he probably had grown the closest to you, or as close as Loki would allow himself to be to someone.

“What even is this holiday?” Loki asked, pulling his attention from the decorations to where you sat, binder in your lap. You looked up and closed the brief, tossing it onto the coffee table in front of where you sat.

“Sunday is Valentine’s Day,” you say looking back over to him, meeting his eyes. “I mean overtime the traditions and how we celebrate have changed but it’s originally the day meant to honor St. Valentine and commemorate his death. There’s a lot more to it than that and there’s all different of different origins, but now it’s more like a day where you celebrate love, because he was the patron Saint of Love.”

Loki nods, liking the idea of this holiday much more than New Years already. He didn’t mind Christmas, but the elaborate parties made everything not very appealing to him. You can’t blame the god for not having a good time at parties where every guest fears him or hates him. He walks over and takes a seat on the couch and crosses his legs. He was intrigued enough to continue the conversation and ask you more questions. “What are the traditions?” He asks curiously.

“Traditionally, you would ask someone to be your Valentine, and that’s the person you want to spend the day with,” you answer with a small shrug, trying to explain a holiday you’ve never had to explain before. “Some people have it easy and they ask their significant other, and if you don’t have one, you ask someone you’re romantically interested in to be your Valentine. Then you give each other gifts, like chocolates or flowers, anything really that’s romantic and you go out on a date, like a nice dinner but it doesn’t have to be. That’s the basic gist.”

“Thank you, (y/n),” Loki said, mulling over your explanation. “You’ve been helpful, as always. Tell me, who’s your Valentine?”

“I don’t have one,” you answered honestly. The only time you really celebrated was when you had been with someone. You’d never really participated otherwise. You planned to just spend the night alone or with Nat if she also didn’t have plans and probably watch a movie- most definitely Pride and Prejudice.

“Shame,” Loki said with a tsk. “Perhaps, if you would be interested, you could be my Valentine?”

“Really?” you ask, honestly surprised.

“I actually like the idea of the day,” Loki shrugged. “And I don’t know many people, people seem to hate me on this planet- no idea as to why. You’ve always been kind to me, and you are the most tolerable person I’ve encountered on this planet.”

“That’s oddly very kind of you,” you say with a chuckle. “I appreciate the sentiments. Um, yes. I’d be happy to be your Valentine.”

“Excellent,” he grinned. He clapped his hands together and stood up. “Splendid. I’ll ask Thor to help me plan something.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” you smile, picking up your paperwork again as Loki heads off to find his brother.

***

“Brother,” Thor’s voice echoed in the training room. “Spar with me?”

“As much as I would love to,” Loki said sarcastically, “I need your help with something I need to plan.” Loki walked over to the side of the mat where Thor had been training with Captain Rogers.

“Plan what?” Captain Rogers asked curiously. It was an innocent enough question but Loki took it as Rogers insinuating his distrust in him. Of course, Loki can’t blame the man but it did rub him the wrong way.

“If you must know Captain Rogers, I’m making plans for this upcoming Valentine’s Day,” Loki said matter-of-factly. “I’m sure since you have quite the active love life recently, your words of wisdom are probably of infinite value.”

“You can learn a thing or two from me,” Steve retorted as he put the punching bag beck into place. “But I don’t like your attitude.”

“I don’t know how I’ll ever manage without you,” Loki scoffed. He turned his attention back to his brother. “I need help to determine where I should take (y/n) and what I should get for a present.”

“(y/n) agreed to this?” Thor asks, his eyebrows raised in confusion. Rogers kept his mouth shut, deciding to see where this conversation will go before

“Yes, brother. I asked (y/n) to be my Valentine as stated by tradition and they said yes.”

“Ah! Good for you, brother!” Thor exclaimed, happily. “I’m glad you’re immersing yourself in the Midgard culture.”

“Yes, yes,” Loki waved him off, “Now, please, tell me what I should do.”

“I’ve never celebrated Valentine’s Day,” Thor says with a shrug and a sympathetic look. “I haven’t had much opportunity to explore the culture. Every time I’m on this planet I’m a little busy preventing its destruction. Perhaps Rogers can help you?”

Loki let out an exasperated sigh. He avoided Rogers as he knew the man had such a smug look on his face. Loki refused to give him the satisfaction. However, he realized that wouldn’t be fair to you. Rogers not only knew what to do, but he was also close friends with you. He quickly realized if he wanted to celebrate with you properly, he’d need to rely on the infamous super soldier.

“Captain Rogers,” Loki said with a charismatic smile, turning back to the man. “I wholeheartedly apologize for my lack of… social niceties. If you’d be willing to help me, to ensure your dear friend enjoys the holiday, I would be sincerely grateful.”

“Only because of (y/n),” Rogers says skeptically, waving a finger at Loki. “They deserve to enjoy their time and I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I let you screw up their evening.”

“What a loyal friend.”

Years later, the Avengers would still talk about the fact Loki cared about you so much, he sought out advice from Captain America and Thor. And as Captain America said, he helped Loki with every last detail and Steve never let Loki forget it.

***

Loki had told you that he’d come to your room to get you at 6 o’clock Sunday evening. He wore clothes he had picked out, black dress pants, a white button-down shirt and shiny, black dress shoes. He had kept the last button of the shirt unbuttoned and he had rolled the sleeves up, a styling tip he had gotten from Thor. He had his long hair gelled back and tamed, ignoring Captain Roger’s horrible suggestion for a haircut. He felt very weird not wearing any green, but he took the advice he was given on his ensemble.

You were just putting on your shoes when he knocked at your door Sunday promptly at 6pm. Of course, Loki would be very punctual. You gave yourself one more quick once more in the mirror in your room before heading to answer the door.

You kept your appearance simple, sticking to how you usually styled your hair. Not wanting to keep him waiting, you quickly opened the door, your jacket in hand.

“Wow,” you say with a grin, when you take in Loki’s appearance. “You look very nice.”

“You look stunning,” Loki said, his eyes widening, taking in your appearance. The compliment made you have butterflies.

“Thank you,” you said with false confidence. Underneath, you were a nervous wreck as you took the arm that he extended to you.

“So,” Loki began to walk down the hallway with you. “Apparently, this planet has something called reservations, and anyone who tries to get one a few days before Valentine’s Day is a “moron,” according to a very rude young man I had the pleasure of speaking with- the first time using a phone too on top of that. So, I hope you don’t mind if the evening is a little… makeshift.”

“I’m sure it’ll be great,” you reassure him. You feel him relax slightly. You found how hard he was trying so endearing.

Where else did he bring you but just down the hall to the living room. At night with the lights dimmed, combined with Natasha’s homemade decorations, it actually looked quite beautiful. He had decorated with an eclectic array of candles as well that covered most surfaces of the room. It also looked like he had swiped every throw pillow in the whole compound and had them arranged the coffee table in the center of the room.

“Did you do all of this?” You ask in awe.

“Yes,” he replied, just watching you. “Do you like it?”

“It’s perfect.”

“I had to make my own version of advice I received,” he disclosed to you. You sat opposite each other on either side of the coffee table, you kicked off your heels and he did the same with his shoes. “Captain Rogers said- and I’m trying my best to quote verbatim, ‘You need to show a special someone a good time if you care about ‘em . You gotta take ‘em to dinner and dancing.’” He even mimicked Steve’s voice perfectly. It made you laugh.

“I can’t believe you subjected yourself to Steve for me, I’m touched,” you smiled. “I mean I love Steve,” you continue, “But I can’t imagine you too being best friends anytime soon.”

“No, I suppose we probably won’t be,” Loki chuckles.

“I hate to point it out,” you continue, “but I think you missed both the dinner part and the dancing part of that plan.” Loki smirked and when you blinked, he transformed the whole room.

“Did I?” he asks, with an eyebrow raised. You gasp, looking around the room you were now in. You knew it was an illusion, but it felt very real. The atmosphere, the breeze coming in from the large bay windows that weren’t there before. The coffee table now a table now one of many dining tables in an incredibly high-end restaurant. The table had food, and a bottle of wine. You were stunned. There was a live band and other couples in other tables and out on the dancefloor.

“Loki?” You exclaimed, looking around at your new surroundings. It was amazing. You couldn’t believe the magic right before your eyes. Of course, you knew it was just one of his tricks, but it felt so incredibly real. You picked up your fork and took a bite of the food in front of you. It was incredible, you questioned if you were even eating.

“It’s real,” Loki said, like he could read your mind. Honestly, he had only just anticipated your next question. “I made it. Well, I made it with Friday’s supervision.”

“It’s fantastic! I can’t believe you went through all this trouble just for me.”

“Sweetheart, you are very much worth it- worth much more than this,” he responded casually, throwing in the term of endearment to see how you’d react. He caught the way it made you smile.

You continued to talk for a little while, and shared stories. You were worried that compared to his life on Asgard, he’d find your stories incredibly boring and mundane. It seemed to be the opposite. His attention was only on you and he held on to every word you said. He created this elaborate setting just to keep you the center of his attention.

“Should we dance?” He asks suddenly, a glimmer in his eye. You looked down apprehensively.

“I’m not really a dancer,” you tried to insist.

“Do you actually not want to dance, darling? Because if so, I will not bring it up again,” he says earnestly, “But, if you’re saying no because you’re afraid I’m going to judge you, I honestly can promise you I would never dream of doing so.”

You give it another moment to ponder over his words. You were taken aback at how well he seemed to know how you were thinking. You let out a sigh of defeat, and smile. “I’d love to,” you reply.

He stands up and offers you his hand. His smile is enough to make you weak at the knees. You take his hand and he leads you over to the dancefloor as the band starts playing its next song. “Does that singer sound like Elvis?” You ask, the small glitch in the illusion throwing you off for only a moment.

“I don’t know who that is,” Loki says with a laugh. He pulls you in close and rests one hand on the small of your back and the other grasps your hand close. You wrap your other arm around his shoulder. You are both pressed up incredibly close to one another. You rest your head on his chest comfortably, and you can’t see how much the action makes his whole face go red. Guiding your movements together, it mostly just swaying in place. The steps were small, and with the music playing for the two of you.

“This place is incredible,” you sigh happily looking up at him. “But I think I liked the first place a little better.”

He nodded in agreement and you got to watch a green hue encompass the walls of the restaurant as they almost melted away, and everything around the two of you just fade away. The sconces on the walls, revealed themselves to be the candles that cluttered the living room and the couples evaporated with the green mist. The table you had both sat at, turned back to the coffee table but the empty plates remained. The elaborate statues that surrounded the room turned into the furniture you knew well, and then the live band faded away to reveal Steve’s record player indeed playing a 45 of Can’t Help Falling in Love by Elvis Presley.

When the room finished revealing its true appearance to you, you laid your head back on Loki’s chest and mumbled that now it was perfect. He smiled to himself, thinking about how without a doubt in his mind, Valentine’s Day is his absolute favorite holiday on Midgard. He now couldn’t believe this reality was real. If he wasn’t holding you, he’d pinch himself. You were here, with him, in his arms, dancing in the middle of the living room on this godforsaken planet.

“(y/n)?” he whispered softly as the song was coming to an end.

“Mhmm?” You responded, your eyes closed, really just basking in the feeling of being so close to him and the smell of his cologne.

“Will be mine?” He asks carefully, remembering the phrase from Captain Roger’s advice. That phrase apparently being very important if today went well and he wanted to ask you to “go steady.” You chuckled softly, hearing Steve’s influence in the phrase.

“I would love to,” you say with a shy smile looking back up to him. He beams, incredibly happy you said yes. Swept up in his emotions, he swiftly leans down and presses his lips to yours capturing them in a passionate first kiss.

“Oh gross!” You hear someone exclaim, making you both pull away. It’s Tony- who was currently holding his side in pain as Pepper elbowed him in the side.

“You really had to do that?” she chastised him, rolling her eyes and giving an apologetic look to you and Loki before pushing Tony down the hallway to give you both your moment back, as sullied as it had become thanks to Tony.

“I never gave Rock of Ages permission to be… lovey dovey in my building! (y/n) you can do so much better than that greaseball!”

“I’m so sorry,” she said embarrassed by his outburst, ushering him out as quickly as possible.

Loki turns his head back to you, immediately after they are out of view. “Where were we, darling?” He smirks, pulling you in for another kiss.