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filterjeons · 3 years

Text

baby baby | kth

✦ pairing: kim taehyung x reader

✦ summary: you’re practically taehyung’s favorite girl. even though you are just his sugar baby, he loves you more than any one of his before. unfortunately, you started to turn into the complete opposite of the girl you were before but luckily for him, he knows how to put you back in your place

✦ rating: M, not suitable for minors

✦ genre: smut

✦ word count: 5.7k

✦ warnings: dom!taehyung, sub!reader, sugar daddy/dilf!taehyung, degradation, dumbification, anal play, oral (f receiving), fingering, rough and unprotected sex, overstimulation, creampie, aftercare

Taehyung sighed to himself as he “patiently” waited for you to finish looking through the abundance of clothes that are hung on the racks of the clothing store you two were in. What’s worse is that you probably already have those exact dresses, blouses or skirts but they’re just in a different color. Yet, your irresistible puppy eyes convinced him to drive you to the mall and spend a good amount on you.

When he decided to become your sugar daddy, he should’ve expected to create such a monster because every month he spends at least $5,000 on different sorts of clothes, shoes, makeup, or miscellaneous items. It wasn’t like it was a financial problem for him but because you were his absolute favorite, he was prone to giving you anything that you ever wanted. Now that he thinks about it, you were the most spoiled out of all of his previous sugar babies. You recently asked him to order a bunch of packages and now here you are, going to spend even more money on more clothes that are only going to go in your closet.

Despite all of that, he really loved you and wanted to make sure you were happy. The first time you two met was in a convenience store on a rainy day where you used to work part time. Back then, you were tired all of the time because not only were you working as soon as school ended but you also had to study like crazy once your shift was over. Even after you took on his offer of being his sugar baby, you still worked hard to maintain your scholarship and pay for your best friend Lisa’s rent. Plus, you always spent time with him whenever you had a free day which wasn’t required but it made him happy.

None of his past sugar babies were that caring, they just only wanted him for the money and genuinely didn’t care about him. He didn’t require them to keep him company or be in a relationship, hell he even was aware of the relationships they had with other people. He didn’t expect you to date him either because of the age gap between the two of you shared. He was 29 and you were only 19, in your second year of college. But you decided to be his girlfriend because you really liked him regardless of the money and because of that, he always had a special place in his heart for you.

What’s the point of buying all these clothes when he’s just going to rip them off of you?, he thought as he watched you shift through the neat piles of skirts. Another reason why he has a favoritism towards you was that you were just the best with him in bed. Some days you’ll be obedient and he’ll be caring with you but on other days, you’ll put on a bratty front and he’ll simply fuck it out of you with extra care at the end. He assumes that today will be the latter because of your spoiled attitude right now.

“Y/N honey, I don’t think you’re going to buy anything here so let’s go home now-” Taehyung said, walking over towards you but you brushed him off.

“Just wait for 5 minutes. I wanna see if this’ll look good on me,” you protested.

“It’ll always look good on you. Besides, don’t you have that same dress but in pink?” “I want the black one now, it’s for a party I’m going later on.”

“A party? How come you didn’t let me know before?” You were absolutely perfect in Taehyung’s eyes but a thing that he wasn’t really fond of was him knowing of your plans last-minute. Most of the time it was an accident because you tend to forget things easily but for some reason, it sounded like you didn’t want to tell him earlier.

“Because it’s none of your business. Ugh, there’s nothing good here so I guess I’m going to get this one. Daddy, can I have your credit card?” you grumbled, putting back the pile of clothes that were laying on your arm while the other was texting your friend Lisa.

“Your business is mine because I also have to keep you safe from anything bad that could happen to you. Where is the party?” “At the club of course! Come on Taehyung, who wouldn’t have a party at a club?” “It’s with Lisa, right?” “Why do you care so much, you’ve met her before! She’s literally my best friend and of course I have to go. Just give me your credit card al-”

“Put the dress down. I’m not buying you anything today because of the attitude you just showed me,” he said darkly, trying to get you to listen to him.

“Why not? What did I do wrong?”

“I think I already spent too much on you because now you’re acting like a spoiled little girl,” he growled softly above your ear, his aura overtaking you and making your heart race.

“But...but, I want this one!” you whined, giving him your best pout and stomping your feet like a little toddler. Taehyung laughed at your childish behavior but his decision still remained firm.

“Please Daddy? Please, please, please!��

“No means no. There’s nothing you can do to change my mind.”

“It’s not even that expensive!”

“Y/N, the money isn’t the problem for me. It’s the way you’re speaking to me.”

“Daddy, you said that you’ll buy me anything right? You love me right? Do you not love me anymore? Am I not your favorite?” you pulled the last-attempt lines that typically got Taehyung to do whatever you want. You knew in your heart that he’ll only love you and he blatantly shows his favoritism for you but those words always got him to give in and buy the item.

Taehyung’s expression shifted from softening his stance and debating to giving in before deciding to not settle down to you. It was so close before he surrendered and spent even more money on you. He already loved you since you were his only sugar baby right now and he’s sure you know it too but this time, he’s not going to lose to your charms.

“I’ve already bought you so much stuff, is that not enough for my bratty little baby?” he asked coldly, pulling a card that you’ve never heard before. He’s never called you a brat outright but the degrading name made your stomach turn and a whimper come out of your mouth. “Does she want more?”

“I-I-” “Are you a little brat who likes to be spoiled with Daddy’s money?”

You felt cool sweat dripping down your forehead as you tried to think of a comeback that could match him but most of your previous ones won’t work on him. All you could think of is…

“Yes I am, Daddy.” That nearly sent Taehyung to the edge as he made you put back the dress, grabbed your hand, and walked you out of the mall and into his limo which still amazes you to this day. The chauffeur didn’t even need to interact with you two as he pulled up the golden partition, giving you alone time with him.

“You used to be such a good little girl but now your behavior has gotten worse. It’s such a shame that I have to punish you on the night before your best friend’s party. I would’ve let you go if you told me before but I don’t think that’s an option, especially for what I’m about to do to you when we get home. Besides, we haven’t had sex together in a while now; wouldn’t you have much more fun playing with me than going to a normal party?” he whispered darkly, his hand slowly creeping up your thigh as your face started to blush.

Sometimes, it’s hard to believe that you were the same girl a couple of months ago when he first met you. He remembered the first time he took you to a high-end clothing store, the look on your face when you read the price tag and the way you puffed up in anger when he swiped his credit card on an expensive dress that’ll absolutely look stunning on you.

Now after getting used to buying more items, you took a full 180 on your personality which led you to be the girl you were now. But even though you showed a bratty and whiny facade, he still knew you kept your hard-working and kind heart because it was a part of you that never went away. Alongside your submission to him.

“Daddy, I’m sorry,” you whimpered, his fingers lightly grazing the front of your pussy and feeling the embarrassing wet patch on your panties from your arousal.

“Are you enjoying this? Did you want this all along? Are you acting up like a bad girl because you want me to dom you?” he chuckled, his warm mouth leaving hickeys along the side of your neck and pushing his fingers past your underwear and into your core.

“I...I…” you were breathless, already squirming from his touch and worrying that the chauffeur could hear you. Although there were times when the both of you had no shame in his car, for some reason it was humiliating for him to hear you wrecked like this.

“Huh, are you worried that he might hear you? Do you want him to hear you fucked out against my fingers like a little slut?”

“Oh, uh…” you let out a quiet whimper as you try to cover your noises with your sweater sleeve. Taehyung smirked at how weak you looked as he started to pump his digits in and out of you, the action making squelching noises and the palm of his hand rubbing against your clit. You were absolutely dripping onto his fingers and your panties as muffled sounds were slipping out of your lips.

“Naughty girl,” he tsked as the limo came to a halt in presumably the front of his mansion and he pulled his hand out of your core, licking the excess liquids. You whined at the dirty action and the loss of contact as the chauffeur turned off the engine and exited the driver’s seat to open your door.

“Thank you so much Michael,” Taehyung smiled as the door opened for the both of you to get out. He was acting like he didn’t make you hot and bothered earlier ago while you already looked flustered and out of breath. You knew that he’s absolutely going to snap once the two of you are behind closed doors but you weren’t worried at all. Rather, you were proud of yourself for bringing him to that point because you really enjoyed getting punished by him.

“Strip off your clothes baby girl. Don’t make me repeat myself,” Taehyung says darkly once you get inside his master bedroom. You gaped at him, suddenly feeling shy about yourself.

“Wh-what?” “You should’ve got it the first time. Take off your clothes, missy.”

Even though you were in trouble with him, you still didn’t want to back down to him completely yet so you decided to give him an eye roll and a dramatic groan.

“It’s no use being a brat to me now, rather it’ll just make your punishment worse. I’m saying this for the final time Y/N, strip. Now,” he snarled, his darkened eyes burning daggers into you as he eyed you expectantly.

At this point, there was no use in arguing with him so you huffed and gave in to his demand. You pulled off your sweater and bra, leaving you in just your skirt, thigh-highs, and panties.

“Take off your panties, I just want to see you in your skirt and stockings,” Taehyung demanded, waiting for you to finish. You were surprised he didn’t want you to take off all your clothes but he always loved seeing you in a skirt due to your tendency to wear them often. You slipped off your undies and tossed them in the side, leaving you in the thigh-highs and the skirt that barely left any room to hide yourself.

“Fuck,” he hissed, his bulging hard dick sticking out against his jeans as he manhandled you onto the edge of his bed, the curve of your ass sticking out. You could feel him grind onto you roughly, making you crave more of him. “You’re such a bad little girl, I’m not going to go easy on you.” “Well, bring it on,” you jeered, facing him and trying to rile him up even more. Your statement lit a fire in him because he pushed you down on the bed and immediately attached his lip onto yours in a hungry kiss. You tried to kiss back but his pace was too rough and fast as he slipped his tongue inside yours to assert his dominance.

He broke off from the kiss and went down to your chest, kissing and sucking on your hardened nipple, even nibbling on them. The other one was taken care of by his long fingers, tugging on them and sending sparks of pain whenever he tugged them sharply. You let out a high-pitched moan as he typically never paid that much attention to your boobs.

Being the little shit he was, he decided to become more aggressive once he switched treatments on both nipples. In one, he was biting and sucking on it harshly with his teeth while the other was being flicked and pinched with his fingers. After hearing your mewls and whines, he decided to tug it upwards which created an electrifying shock towards you.

“Ahh! What-oh-oh my god!” you cried as your body tried to calm itself down from the pain while Taehyung watched your boob snap back into place with an evil smirk plastered on his face.

“Aww, does the little baby not like that? Does it hurt?” he mocked and you nodded, tears threatening to fall out of your eyes. “Too bad, little whore. It’s what you deserve after you acted like a dumb little bitch who’s only good for taking in dick.”

You gasped to yourself at the degrading terms, surprised at yourself for hearing him calling you that for the first time and how much you like that. Taehyung could tell as well because of the way your slick is coming down rapidly from your thighs.

“Does the stupid little girl like that? Do you like getting treated as just a dirty little cockwhore for me to use?” he asked, pulling up your skirt and making kitten licks on top of your pussy to tease you.

You bucked your hips up higher for him to keep going: both the degradation and him eating you out. Taehyung’s tongue always felt so good on you and the way he was staring at you could nearly make you cum right now.

“Yeah, you enjoy it so much huh? Being treated like a dumb baby who’s only good at making Daddy feel good? Do you want me to make you feel good? Does your little hole want to be filled up with my cock?”

“Yes,” you whined, thrashing against his face as the ache’s gotten worse for you. At this point, you wanted anything from him just so the burning sensation could feel better.

“Such a little slut. Always desperate for Daddy’s cock,” he shook his head as he licked a stripe of your core before turning you on your hands and knees, your ass in full display.

“Wh-what are you going to do?” you whispered, thinking of the times he’s gotten you in this position when you were in trouble with him. Most likely it’s going to be a spanking so you internally braced yourself for the impact.

“I’m going to do something different,” he replied, pulling up your skirt so your puckered hole was on display. He rubs a finger to prod your entrance, collecting the slick that was forming there. “We haven’t done anal before, have we?”

You shook your head, your heart racing on what he’s going to do with you. For some reason, it made you nervous as it was something that you’ve never done before and you’ve heard so much stuff about it from your friends and the magazines.

“Shh, don’t be nervous, it’ll be okay. You’ll be my good girl and take it, right?” Taehyung comforts you, kissing the back of your neck to calm you down and massaging your butt. You nodded, swallowing the lump down your throat to prepare yourself.

“I-I can do it,” you tried to say confidently, taking deep breaths.

“I know you can, you’re such an obedient little baby...some of the time,” he cooed, prodding your asshole with his thumb to try to get you used to the feeling and using your wetness as lube.

“Hey, what do you mean some of the time?” you barked, turning your head back to face him as a shit-eating grin was plastered on his face and his eyes darkened in lust. Apparently, his statement was supposed to distract you as he started to insert the first half of his thumb into your hole. “Daddy, what the fuck-” “Shh, relax baby,” he said in a soothing tone, feeling your walls clench around his digit tightly.

“Oh, okay,” you nodded and tried to calm yourself down as you took a deep breath and felt Taehyung’s thumb slowly starting to enter deeper inside of you, your walls trying to accommodate the stretch.

“You’re doing so good, taking Daddy’s thumb like such a good girl,” he praised softly, the compliment sending butterflies in your chest and making your face heating up even more. “It’s only a little bit left, you can do it baby.”

By now, you were a moaning and whining mess as you tried to stuff yourself into the pillows due to the embarrassing sounds you were making. You feel so full already and Taehyung wasn’t helping as he’s bringing his hand to the front of your pussy, flicking your clit.

“Such a sweet girl, you took all of my thumb,” he said with admirement, feeling the way your walls flutter around his finger tightly. The thought of you like this, all whiny and helpless under him while he takes you from behind, entered his mind and he let out a growl from the chance that he can make that thought into a reality.

All of a sudden, he pulled his thumb out of your hole, making you groan with disappointment as you were getting used to it inside you, before plunging his long pointer finger inside. You started to let out even more whines as you started to feel overwhelmed with the pleasure, both from the front and behind.

Taehyung added his middle finger and thrusted them in and out, quickening the pace while deciding to stick another one in, making you feel even more full than before. Your body started to tremble as you tried to keep up with him and steady yourself due to the rate he was going at.

“Jesus, have you gotten tighter than before?” he muttered, spreading your walls apart and making scissoring motions in an attempt to go deeper and stretching you out as much as possible so that you’re ready to take his dick later. Speaking of which, he felt himself grow harder with every little movement and sound you make, your cute noises boosting up his ego and turning him on.

You looked absolutely wrecked, the side of your face sprawled onto the pillows as your eyes were closed shut, mouth was open into a moan with drool slowly dripping down the corner of your lips, and your pretty ass sticking out for him as you started to grind on his hand, wanting to feel more.

“You’re enjoying this too much aren’t you, you bad little girl,” he tsked, fingering your hole harder and shoving his pinky inside. With practically all of his long digits inside, it hits every corner of your walls and gives you shocks of pleasure with every thrust which is leading you to your orgasmt. “Do you want my dick inside you, huh?” Your high-pitched squeals of need and you grinding your ass back to feel his hardened dick and chasing your high gave him the answer he needed. “You just want your little holes to be filled up, isn’t that right? Too bad.” All of a sudden, he immediately removed his hands and turned you back on your front, your legs sprawled out for him and your face contorting into a whine from the lack of contact.

“Why-why did you stop?” you panted, sweat dripping down your forehead as he was hitting every single part of you but ended it without any warning and leaving you dry.

“Because my little princess is still a bad little slut. Don’t worry though, maybe if you feed Daddy with your cute pussy, I’ll forgive you,” he replied as he licked a stripe up your cunt and made your body tremble from his dirty words. As he started to eat you out, you made eye contact with him and compared to his softer gaze, his naturally brown eyes are absolutely dark from lust which made him look intimidating. To tease you even more, he gave you a seductive wink and you felt yourself turn into putty as you let him do whatever he wants with you.

“D-daddy..” You were at a loss for words due to the bliss you were in. Taehyung was eating you out completely, kissing your clit, and humming occasionally to send vibrations throughout your sensitive core. His tongue was deep inside your entrance and his fingers were added as well to try to find your g-spot.

At this moment it was like you were in another world with your mind becoming absolutely blank and only focusing on him and your eyes nearly seeing stars. The noises inside the bedroom were extremely lewd, the squelching of your pussy as Taehyung eats you out and the whimpers and moans that are coming out of your mouth.

“Filthy little fuckslut,” he sighed, lapping at your clit and swirling it around between his tongue. When he lightly grazed on it with his teeth, the volume of your whines were even louder than before and you were ten seconds away from releasing.

“Does my angel want to come now? Is she going to release her sweet juices on my tongue?” he asked, staring at your fucked out face from below while thrusting his tongue muscle in and out.

“Mmh-” you whined, the familiar feeling that arises when you feel like releasing slowly taking over you as the rest of your body keeps writhing and twitching from the ministrations that Taehyung was doing to you.

“Pretty little baby,” he cooed, watching you starting to tremble as your orgasm was near. That sets off a reaction in your stomach because all of a sudden, you see your vision going blank and full of stars as you release all of your liquids on him.

It was like you had just dropped down from a roller coaster as you were still trying to come down from your high but it seems like it hasn’t stopped since more liquids were dripping down and soaking the bed sheets.

Taehyung looked at you in awe as some of it were splattered onto his face and surprisingly, your orgasm seemed more intense than before and you were squirting intensely onto his bed. He licked off some of your juices that were onto him before giving a final kiss on top of your cunt as he watches you slowly regain consciousness.

“Huh, what- oh shit, I’m so sorry,” you babbled, realizing what just happened and feeling completely embarrassed. Taehyung had no shame regarding what you two do in bed but it was still humiliating that you absolutely drenched his bed due to how good he was. “No no, it’s okay, besides it was really hot,” he smiled, trying to assure you that everything was fine. You rolled his eyes at his lewd remark as you slightly punched his shoulder, his comment definitely not helping.

“Are you still mad at me?” you asked quietly.

“Of course not, you know I can never get mad at you. But that doesn’t mean I’m not done with you because I still haven’t fucked you yet,” he replied as he slowly unbuttoned his shirt, giving you a mini strip-show.

Taehyung was a very attractive man and today it was evident as he kept staring straight at your face while taking off every piece of clothing on him. His honey skin was reflected against the late afternoon sun, causing it to glow like he was some god that came out of the sky. Although he wasn’t the most muscular, you were more than fine with how he looked because a man like him could have any girl in the world and he chose you.

“Why are you taking so long?” you whined as he slowly unbuckled his black jeans. You could see his hardened dick begging to be set free and knowing how good it looked and felt made you absolutely on your nerves as you impatiently kicked your feet immaturely.

“Patience, little girl,” he chided softly as he was now stripped down to his grey Calvin Kleins, palming his big bulge on top of his boxers. “Do you wanna take it off for me?” You nodded rapidly, crawling over to him and pulling down the restricting material. As soon as they were gone, his long and thick cock stood up instantly. Your mouth immediately watered at the sight of it with precum oozing out of the angry head. Honestly, his dick intimidated you due to how big it was and if it’s ever going to fit you despite sleeping together with him multiple times.

“Daddy…” you whispered as he pumped his length to let the precum slick it well. His hands were normally really big but for some reason, they looked small when they’re wrapped around his dick.

“What’s wrong, are you scared?” he teased lightly, a playful grin stuck on his face as he hovers above you to insert it in.

“N-no, I’m ready,” you said confidently as he aligns himself above your entrance, the tip of his dick slightly grazing your folds.

“That’s my good girl,” he praised, immediately pushing himself in inch by inch, hitting all of your nerves and filling you up to the brim. You dig your nails behind his back to try to steady yourself as he seems to be going deeper than before, feeling him hit your g-spot and other nerves that weren’t explored before.

“A-ah, shit it feels so fucking good. Your cunt is so warm and tight for me, holy fucking hell, you like that baby? Like my big fucking cock inside your tiny little pussy?” he grunts, rolling his eyes back as soon as his whole dick was inside you. You mewled pathetically, not being able to find words of how you’re feeling.

Taehyung took your noises as a sign for him to keep going harder and faster. Although you were just getting used to his veiny and lengthy dick burning your cunt, it wasn’t for long as he started to take his dick out so only the tip was above you and slamming it back in. You squealed at the sudden fast pace, his dick pounding into you deeper and harder.

He snapped his hips harder and started to thrust even faster, making you feel delirious and out of breath. The pleasure was overwhelming due to how well and often he was hitting that spot that always made you weak and his deep moans and grunts were turning you on. Your eyes were glossy due to the tears that were slipping out from the euphoria you were in and the way your cute eyes stared at him from below only turned him on even more, fucking you as hard and fast as he can.

“Aww, is my little fucktoy crying? Is it too much for you, huh? Is it too overwhelming for my little baby?” he mocked once he saw your face, thrusting at an inhumane pace. You whimpered at the degradation with glossy eyes, which only set Taehyung off even more.

“Fucking shit, the things you do to me little girl. Daddy’s hitting it so hard and fast, right? You could feel Daddy’s dick deep in your stomach?” With that being said, he palmed the bottom of your stomach and sure enough you could feel the presence of his bulge in there.

“I-I- oh fuck, y-yeah, faster,” you stammered, embarrassed at yourself for not being able to form coherent sentences but at the pace Taehyung was going at, it was pretty useless to.

“Stupid little baby, only good for letting me use her tight and tiny little pussy, my stupid little doll,” he cooed while kissing your cheek affectionately, the soft action mixed with the degradation making your pussy flutter around his cock tightly.

At this point, you were ten seconds near your orgasm due to how well he was making you feel. The familiar knot that signals if you’re about to cum is near and the volume of your noises has risen, filling the rooms with your high-pitched squeals and whimpers.

“Is my baby going to cum soon now? Do you wanna be a good girl and cum for Daddy?” Taehyung asked in his raspy voice above your ear, fucking you against your g-spot.

His words sent off a reaction in you that leads you to your high. You screamed out his name and released every single one of your juices on his dick, your body trembling due to the impact. Taehyung gasps as he couldn’t move due to how tight you were squeezing his dick due to your orgasm.

“Fucking shit, that’s a good girl,” he sighed, watching you slowly try to come down from your climax. For some reason, that just made him ten times harder and wanting to cum as soon as possible.

You were in a state of euphoria, your vision being blackened out and your senses not thinking straight. As soon as you slowly started to regain consciousness, you found yourself in Taehyung’s close embrace as he started to speed up.

“Shh, shh, baby, it’s okay, Daddy’s here,” he said softly, kissing you with love as you started to whine from the overstimulation as Taehyung was continuing to fuck inside you to reach his own high. “Can you hold on for Daddy, please?” You nodded slowly, feeling a bit bad about cumming before him. Although it slightly burned since you were sensitive from your own orgasm, you decided to keep it to yourself just to let him climax.

“You’re such a sweet little girl, my good baby,” he grunts as he started to slow down and his thrusts became sloppier since he was getting close to his orgasm. You let out a cute whine and that’s what it took for Taehyung to release.

With a low guttural groan, you felt his dick inflate inside of you and shoot out loads of his cum. He slowly started to pull himself out of you while he was still releasing, making his seed spill out of you while the rest was stuffed inside of your cunt. He stroked his now sensitive dick to make each last drop land onto your cunt before flopping down next to you out of breath.

“You did so well baby, I love you so much,” he whispered cutely, showing his adorable box smile which made your heart swell while stuffing the remaining cum that was slowly starting to drip out inside of your battered cunt.

“I love you too,” you croacked back, trying to calm yourself down from the two intense orgasms you had and the overstimulation.

“I’m sorry, I must’ve gone too hard on you,” he started to apologize but you immediately stopped him.

“N-no, I’m completely fine. You did really well too,” you smile, hugging him tightly.

“You’re always so sweet but first let me take care of you, okay?” he grinned back, stepping out of the bed and into the bathroom to put on some clothes and clean you up. As soon as he came back, he handed you an oversized shirt and had a washcloth in his hand to clean up your thighs and core.

“Do you mind if I put you down for a bit? I’m going to clean the sheets,” he asked, carrying you onto a nearby chair and changing the sheets. Soon, the bed was back to normal and you two decided to sleep in.

“I’m sorry for acting like a brat,” you said amongst his broad chest as you were snuggled up against him.

“No, it’s okay. You’re still a good girl no matter what,” he reassured you, kissing the top of your head and looking out into the window. The sky has turned into a pitch-black with stars scattered in different areas like a painting. “I’m sorry that you’ll have to miss Lisa’s party. I guess it must be starting soon.’’ “Taehyung, don’t apologize for that. Besides, I’d rather hang out with you than go to a party. It’s okay, she’ll understand,” you said, brushing off his apologies. Of course you would like to hang out with your friend but being with him made you feel like the happiest girl in the world.

“You’re so cute, like a tiny little baby,” he cooed, squishing your cheeks which made you immediately brush his hands off. Due to your age gap, he always found you cute because you were younger than him and treated you like a baby sometimes. It was endearing but sometimes it can be plain annoying.

“Oh my god, you’re so annoying,” you grumbled, turning away from him and placing a pillow on your head to prevent him from bothering you any further.

Taehyung laughed at your antics before slowly hugging you from behind and sleeping alongside you in that position.

With the previous sugar babies he had, he wouldn’t be sleeping with them in this position or have so much love and care but you were different. You absolutely stole his heart and even though you have your bratty moments, you will always be his number one.

a/n: damn this was filthy...but i hope the anons who requested this and y’all like it <3

taglist: @taesluttt, @laurynne5, @bonnyskies, @aretha170, @arthurflecc, @mytaetaey, @bts-txt-ateez, @maijinki, @pimentelssmile, @kookies-princess, @seventeenis-thedream, @impartoftoomanyfandoms

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skaterbeth · 4 years

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the seven + others playing among us

because i fucking love this game

annabeth

so good. like. too fucking good

prefers the imposter role because she is amazing at sabotaging and killing without getting seen

a master at travelling the vents unnoticed

very good at making sure she doesn’t form a pattern in who she kills

only self reports when she knows she won’t be suspicious

changes her behavior in real life to be less suspicious in game

percy always gets so offended when she kills him out of convenience

(“i can’t believe you killed me!” “you were literally in a room alone doing your task it was too easy”)

memorized every task so she always has an alibi

when she’s a crewmate she just finishes her tasks and always saves the crew when they imposter sabotages the reactor or something

is always able to figure out who the imposter because she memorized everyone’s tells like the little shit she is (and percy can’t even lie to her anymore like he’s the worst liar)

wears white

percy

is kinda good at being the imposter but definitely kills certain people on purpose

those people: jason (duh, he liked to piss him off), piper (cause he thinks it’s funny when she’s mad), reyna (bc he considers that a fucking accomplishment he would totally go around camp jupiter telling everyone he killed the praetor), and leo (no explanation needed)

refuses to kill: annabeth (bc he’s a simp), hazel (bc he loves her too much), grover (🐐)

people he’s indifferent to killing: frank and nico (but he still feels kinda bad bc my boy is too sweet)

when he’s the imposter he’s so bad at defending himself

and annabeth can read him super easily

so when she accuses him he’s just like “yeah just vote me out lolz”

when he’s a crewmate he kinda just does his tasks idk

but he never saves the crew when their being sabotaged cause he doesn’t like that pressure

always reports the body and immediately goes on the chat like “guys who killed my girlfriend 😡”

always blames it on jason cause he likes seeing him get mad

and when it’s not jason percy’s like 🤷🏾

wears blue

leo

he’s the most chaotic to play with adskjskdjk

he’s such a good imposter but he also accidentally brags when he kills someone

“so who do you guy think it is?” “idk but whoever it was is a really good imposter” “... ok so it’s leo”

even if he’s not the imposter people vote him out when he’s being annoying

loves sabotaging

always kills frank first cause he thinks it’s hilarious

next would be annabeth because she’s super smart

but everyone tries to kill annabeth first

doesn’t kill hazel because he thinks she’s too pure

also doesn’t kill nico

very good crewmate

always finishes his tasks first

and when he’s done he just follows people around to freak them out and make them think he’s the imposter

wears orange

piper

also chaotic

always kills annabeth first but like makes it a point to do it so everyone always knows it’s her

in the off chance she doesn’t kill annabeth first she always tries to pin it on her

has definitely accidentally revealed herself as the imposter multiple times

definitely charmspeaks people into thinking it’s not her

and it actually works a fair amount of times

if someone kills her she gets so annoyed it’s so funny

cusses so much

they have to kick her out bEcAuSe hAzEl

but hazel thinks it’s hilarious

decent crewmate but she definitely prefers imposter

wears red

frank

hates this game

cannot stand it

but he doesn’t want to be left out so he plays it

he hates being the imposter so much

he doesn’t like to kill people so he just sabotages

but he’s not very good at that either

if he ever does kill he always accidentally does it in front of someone or he gets caught immediately

when someone accuses him it’s super obvious when he’s lying

but he’s a very good crewmate

always does his tasks and helps save the crew when things get sabotaged

will literally watch the imposter kill someone and when he reports it he accidentally says the wrong color

(this makes it seem like i hate frank i really don’t this is literally just how i play)

wears brown

jason

he’s literally dead he can’t play

kidding kidding

definitely still hasn’t figured out the map

easiest to kill because he just wanders around aimlessly til he finds a task he was assigned

is so bad at the admin card swipe he gets kicked out (which has actually happened to my brother)

every time he gets killed the chat fills up with “was it a brick” or just 🧱

leo and annabeth make an animation of jason’s color getting hit on the head with a brick by reyna’s color

never saves the crew when they’re sabotaged because he can’t get there fast enough and he doesn’t have the ability to do it fast enough anyway

he’s like an ok imposter?

idk like there’s not much to say for jason

wears purple (because camp jupiter. yes he’s that boring)

hazel

y’all

hazel is

a fucking RUTHLESS imposter

and no one ever thinks it’s her

and she loves it

being the imposter is definitely her preferred role

always kills leo first

never kills jason cause she thinks it’s funny to watch him try to play

but she rarely sabotages

she just kills

if she does sabotage it’s the lights

because she’s smart

self reports all the time and tries to act traumatized by discovering a dead body so no one suspects her

she’ll always tell nico when she’s the imposter so they’ll pair up but he’ll always vouch and say it wasn’t her

she always wins as imposter

and when it’s revealed it’s her everyone is liked 😧

good crewmate

gets her tasks done and saves the crew when they’re sabotaged

wears purple (but bc she likes the color not cause of camp jupiter)

nico

pretends to hate this game but secretly loves it

doesn’t really care about being imposter or a crewmate he just likes to watch how everyone else plays/interacts

if he is the imposter he’ll never kill hazel

who he kills (in order): leo (just cause he’s annoying), jason, annabeth, reyna, percy, piper, frank, grover, (never hazel)

definitely makes random accusation because it’s funny

he’ll never say it but if annabeth kills him he doesn’t care and roots for her to win bc he loves annabeth

finds percy and annabeth’s banter super entertaining

if he’s not the imposter he definitely follows people around and freaks them out for fun (specifically jason, leo, frank)

good crewmate and always saves everyone’s asses

will call the emergency meeting to say he watched leo kill someone (which he didn’t) or just to be like “yo im hungry y’all want mcdonalds after this?” (they can’t even be mad and everyone definitely gets mcdonalds after)

wears black duh

reyna

mix of annabeth and hazel

super good at the game and definitely enjoys the killing

main difference between her and annabeth is that annabeth is more strategic whereas reyna just kills whenever she feels like it

that being said

she does kill jason first

then percy

definitely hesitates on killing annabeth because she likes her enjoys watching her try to figure out who it is

annabeth and reyna have an unspoken agreement that when reyna’s the imposter annabeth won’t say anything as long as reyna doesn’t kill her

i just love reynabeth ok

master at traveling the vents

if she’s a crewmate she follows around grover, frank, leo, and jason for fun

because she finishes tasks fast obviously

saves everyone’s asses when they get sabotaged

will randomly accuse leo when she has no idea who it is in the first round

(the girls all go along with it)

originally wears blue but she doesn’t wanna match with percy so she switches to white to match with annababe ❤️

grover

is so bad at the imposter it’s so funny

but him and percy always partner up and vouch for each other

but if percy’s the imposter and grover knows he’s very bad at keeping it a secret

and annabeth knows those two the best out of anyone so she always figures it out

sometimes she won’t say anything though because those two are dumbasses but they’re HER dumbasses

he’s so sweet and doesn’t like to kill

would rather sabotage

he’ll definitely lock the doors on people cause it’s funny

good crewmate

knows the map really well

never does the tasks to save the crew when their sabotaged cause it stresses him out

idk what else to say for him lmao

wears dark green

when there’s two imposters

best most dangerous duo: annabeth and reyna

deadliest duo: hazel and reyna

most chaotic duo: leo and piper

boring but funny duo: jason and frank

chaotic but cute and funny duo: grover and percy

funniest duo: percy and annabeth (because their banter on the side and the fact that percy gets distracted by how cool his gf is)

duo that bickers so nothing gets done: frank and leo

duo that doesn’t work together: jason and percy

duo that no one expected to be really good together: nico and annabeth

stealthiest duo: hazel and nico

duo that would expose each other: leo and percy

(i’m tagging @tridentgum because i remember you asked for this lmao)

629 notes · View notes

dirtyhelen · 3 years

Text

i’ve got the girl on my mind (all the time)

Pairing: Carol Danvers x Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Featuring: Smut; Humour; Light D/S; Vaginal Fingering; Oral Sex

Words: 4299

Summary: Carol’s wearing a suit. Black, tailored to perfection, but not feminine. The top two buttons of her stark white shirt are undone and her tie is loose around her neck. Her eyes scan the room absently until her gaze lands on you and she’s smiling even wider, lifting her glass and giving you a wink.

“Oh my God, Bucky, she’s coming over here. Go away.”

“What—why?”

“Because I’m either about to embarrass myself or get seduced and I don’t want you here for either.”

(Spoiler alert: it’s the second one.)

A/N: Woman Cozily Cupping Mug Secretly Thinking About Getting Absolutely Railed by Carol Danvers. This is just a silly little smutfic that I had way too much fun writing. Hope you enjoy! Title from Girls by Beatrice Eli.

“Hey.”

You look up from your computer screen to find Carol Danvers standing in your office doorway, still in her suit from the mission you’re currently writing your report on. She’s looking at you with the confident little half-smile you’ve become very familiar with over the past few weeks. It’s a look that never fails to bring a heat to your cheeks. And other places.

“Uh, hi,” you manage. You can see Bucky smirking at you from his spot lounging on your office sofa, his broken arm resting in a sling against his chest.

“Thanks for your help back there,” Carol says. “You too, Barnes,” she adds, with a nod in his direction. Bucky’s “help” in this case was mostly leaning over your shoulder offering unsolicited opinions on your work and avoiding the many elbow jabs you attempted to land to his ribcage.

It’s not easy being the Avengers’ favourite analyst.

“No problem. Anytime,” you reply.

Carol nods, says a quick, “See ya,” and then she’s gone, striding off down the corridor.

“Bye,” you sigh wistfully.

Bucky chuckles and your eyes snap to him. “You alright there, doll?” he asks, amusement clear in his voice. You glare at him and he only grins wider. “You just seem a little flustered is all. Heart’s beating a little fast.”

“Oh, fuck off, Bucky—you blush like a schoolgirl every time Thor looks at you.”

He squawks but can’t deny it. “Whatever,” he mutters, standing up and heading for the door. “Enjoy filling out your mission report and pining. I’ve got my own cocky blond captain to welcome home.” He winks, graciously letting the pen you throw hit him in the chest before he leaves.

You turn back to your computer and try to focus on your work, but your thoughts keep straying to Carol.

Bucky’s wrong; you do not pine. You only think about her when she’s around. And even then, only once or twice a day. Just casually wondering what she’s doing and if she might stop by your office.

Four or five times, max. Thinking about what she’s wearing, or if she’s done something different with her hair.

Okay, ten times total, on a bad day. Imagining how that easy confidence might translate to the bedroom. If her powers mean her fingers never cramp up, or if her jaw never gets sore.

Bucky’s right; you do pine.

You can’t help it! There’s just something about Carol that has you reverting to the heady infatuations of your teen years every time she’s around. She’s just so fucking cool. To the nerdy teenager you once were, she’s the coolest girl in school whose attention and approval you’re desperate for. To the nerdy adult you currently are, she’s the coolest girl in the universe whose attention and approval you’re desperate for and whose pussy you’d absolutely kill to eat like a five-course meal.

Luckily for your sanity (and your dominant hand), Carol’s not actually around that often. You only met her after the Snap was reversed, having been one of the Capital-D-Dusted, but she seems to spend most of her time checking in on the gazillion other planets in the universe.

At least, she used to. Apparently in the last few months she’s decided to reconnect with her birthplace, because suddenly she’s spending more time on-planet than off. This means the chances of her stopping by your office or running into you on the new-new compound have gone way up. Once every few months has become once a week or more.

Today’s little exchange is the second time she’s found you this week. She stops by, stands in your doorway in ripped jeans or a leather jacket, smirking like a fucking female James Dean, while she casually compliments your outfit or your work or the music playing from your computer. Which would be great—if you had any idea what it means.

You know what you want it to mean, but you and Carol have been doing this little dance for weeks now and she hasn’t so much as asked you if you like coffee, let alone invited you to drink some with her sometime.

Sure, you could ask her out, but you’re not about to risk getting rejected by Captain fucking Marvel and then having to guide her through some villain’s lair over comms the next day.

Shaking your head to try and physically dislodge all thoughts of Carol from your brain, you settle back into your mission report, determined to prove Bucky wrong for at least another hour or two so you can finish up and get home to your empty, lonely apartment.

+++

A couple of weeks and a handful of run-ins with Carol later, you’re standing in a ballroom on the compound in your nicest dress, taking a night off from thinking about Carol. Or trying to, anyway.

The Stark Foundation is hosting a charity gala, raising money for relief efforts for those impacted by the reversal of the Snap. It’s not really your thing, but the Avengers are required to attend and you never pass up an opportunity to watch Steve try to withhold his deep annoyance at having to interact with the richest members of American society.

“Look at his hand, Buck,” you point out. “We’ve reached the clenched fists portion of the evening.”

Bucky nods, taking a sip of his champagne. “Next up—the jaw muscle.”

“Poor guy,” you sigh. “He looks great, though.”

“That he does,” Bucky agrees, eyes scanning the room. “Speaking of looking great—” He lets out a low whistle, nodding his head toward the bar. You follow his gaze and your jaw drops.

“Oh my God.”

“Yep.”

“Look at her.”

It’s Carol, because of course it’s Carol. You weren’t expecting her to be here tonight—she’s not an Avenger in any official capacity and she doesn’t seem the type to enjoy a fancy party—but there she is, standing at the bar talking to Nat and surrounded by a handful of the One Percent.

And she’s wearing a suit. Black, tailored to perfection, but not feminine. The top two buttons of her stark white shirt are undone and her tie hangs loose around her neck.

You watch her laugh at something Natasha says, as she surveys the room absently, completely ignoring all the people clamouring for her attention. Then her gaze lands on you and she’s smiling even wider, lifting her glass and winking at you from the bar.

You manage a little wave back to her as your heart races and Bucky starts to laugh next to you. Carol leans down to say something in Nat’s ear that has her smirking and then she’s walking toward you and your heart stops entirely.

“Oh my God, Bucky, she’s coming over here. Go away,” you hiss.

“What—why?”

“Because I’m either about to embarrass myself or get seduced and I don’t want you to here for either. Go rescue your boyfriend.”

Bucky scoffs but does as you ask, snatching another glass of champagne off a passing waiter’s tray and heading toward Steve.

You have just enough time to swig back the last of your own glass and set it on a table before Carol’s standing in front of you, looking even better up close.

“Hey.” She greets you with a smile.

“Hi.”

“Love the dress,” she says, eyes sweeping down your body. She pinches a fold of your skirt between her finger and thumb, tugs at it lightly. “This colour looks great on you.”

“Oh, um, thank you. You look great too. Very James Bond,” you note and Carol grins. “How are you enjoying your first Avengers party?”

She rolls her eyes. “If one more man tries to tell me about his very cool job managing hedge funds I’m gonna blow a hole in the ceiling and fly out of here.”

“That is, unfortunately, one of the hallmarks of these things. The finance guys, not the ceiling holes,” you clarify. “Though actually, that’s not unheard of either.”

She laughs, about to say something else when her eyes drift over your shoulder. “The vultures are circling again,” she whispers. You turn your head to see a handful of men in expensive suits lingering a few feet away, obviously waiting for an opportunity to introduce themselves to Carol. “You wanna get out of here?” she asks. “Maybe go somewhere a little quieter?”

For a second your brain is frozen solid. You’ve never actually heard that phrase outside of movies and TV, and in movies and TV it usually only means one thing. But this is Carol Danvers and real life and you have no idea if she wants to fuck you or if she really does want to continue your conversation somewhere she’s not at risk of being interrupted by Elon Musk or a random politician.

“My office is just upstairs?” you offer once your brain thaws. There’s a part of you that wants to say, “Or how about we go to your room?” But that’s about ten times more suggestive than you’re comfortable being. Plus, the residences are on the other side of the compound so it’s also not that practical.

“Sounds great,” Carol says with a grin, and then she’s leading you out of the ballroom, a strong hand pressed to the small of your back.

+++

Carol leans against the wall while you fumble with your key card, hands in her pockets and looking so fucking good you want to fall to your knees and beg her to fuck your face right there in the hallway.

Neither of you said much during the short walk to your office but there was an almost palpable tension that has you keyed up and leaking into your panties even though Carol hasn’t so much as touched you beyond a guiding hand on your back.

In the next sixty seconds, as your pass your key card over the pad on the wall and reach down to open the door, it becomes very clear Carol meant “somewhere quieter” exactly the way they do in the movies.

As soon as the door is open she’s pushing you through, kicking it shut with her heel as she pushes you against the wall, hands pressing firm on your shoulders. You gasp when your back hits the wall.

She leans in and your eyes slip shut, waiting for her lips on yours, desperate to finally know how she tastes. But the kiss doesn’t come. She stops with her lips just inches from yours—you can feel the warmth of her breath against your face—and waits. You open your eyes and find her smirking, watching you burn for her and you nearly whimper, another rush of wetness flooding your underwear.

“Please,” you breathe, unable to stop yourself. You’ve wanted this for so long you think you might cry if she doesn’t at least kiss you.

“Please what?” she asks, voice calm and low like she isn’t standing between your spread legs. Like she isn’t affected at all.

“Kiss me. Please.” You can’t even find it in yourself to be embarrassed by how easy you are for her.

“Good girl,” she says softly and finally closes the distance between you. Her first kiss is sweet—a gentle press of lips, a soft hello—but it quickly turns deep and devouring. She licks along the seam of your mouth then sweeps her tongue inside until you’re gasping for air.

Jesus, it’s even better than you could have ever imagined. You don’t think you’ve ever been kissed like this, so thorough and greedy. Carol tastes like chapstick and rum and you’re drunk on her in moments.

One of her hands rests on your waist, while the other grips the back of your neck, holding you in place for her. She sets the pace, giving you time to breathe with teasing kisses along your jaw and neck before pressing her lips to yours, again and again.

She nudges her thigh between yours, pushing up against your cunt through layers of fabric and you grind down against her, moaning into her mouth at the pressure on your throbbing clit. Carol’s hands start to work at the hem of your dress, rucking it up your legs in fistfuls until she’s stopped by the barrier of her own body. She shifts her leg back, chuckling as you whine at the loss, and tugs your dress up so you’re exposed from the waist down.

She takes a moment to look at you, trailing her eyes from ankle to bellybutton and back, stopping at the space between your legs.

“Hold this,” she says, passing you a handful of your dress, and freeing up her own hand. She taps two fingers on your panties, just over your clit, and even that is enough to have you gasping. “Cute,” she comments, and then she’s sliding under the waistband and her fingers are on your bare skin.

She wastes no time, pressing her fingers between your folds. She quirks an eyebrow at the sopping mess of you, almost shamefully wet for so little contact. “I told you,” you stutter through shallow breaths, “you look good in a suit.”

Carol grins, dipping two fingers into your pussy. You roll your hips to try and coax them inside you. “I must look really good if you’re this easy already,” she teases.

She drags slick up to your clit, circling it as she kisses your neck, sucking occasionally then dragging her teeth over the tender flesh. It doesn’t take long before you’re coming, cunt pulsing as you moan her name. Before you can catch your breath she’s pulling you away from the wall, gripping you by the shoulders and turning you around. She marches you the handful of steps to your desk, leaning in until her lips are next to your ear. “Hands on the desk,” she orders.

You eagerly comply, resting the heels of your palms on the sharp edge of your desk. Carol unzips your dress, then pushes the straps off your shoulders and down your arms, pulling them over your hands one at time. The dress falls to your feet, followed by your panties, and suddenly you’re completely naked even as Carol stands fully clothed behind you.

She takes your hands in hers, gripping your wrists, and moves them to the other side of the desk, before pressing a palm to the small of your back with just the slightest hint of her power. She bends you over until your breasts press against the cool surface and your back is forced to arch, ass tilted on display for her.

Her hands stroke down the skin of your back and you shiver.

“Don’t worry, baby. I’ll warm you up,” she says, even though your trembling has nothing to do with the temperature of the room and you think she knows that.

She nudges her foot against one of yours and you widen your stance, spreading your legs wide. Her hand follows the curve of your ass to where you’re still wet and dripping for her, fingertips teasing at your opening.

It hits you suddenly that anyone could walk by and catch you in here. They’d take one look through the glass walls of your office and know. You didn’t even think to flip the switch to opaque the walls and now it’s too late; the panel is next to the door and you wouldn’t move now if flames were licking at your heels. Anyone passing by would see your dress on the floor, see your legs stretched wide around Carol’s figure and they’d know.

To your surprise, the idea of getting caught only adds to your excitement. You don’t have time to ponder your newly discovered kink because two of Carol’s fingers press into your pussy and immediately start thrusting fast and hard, working you back up so quickly your head spins.

The room is soon filled with the sound of her fingers moving inside you and the wet slap of her palm hitting your ass as she fucks you. Your whimpers and moans rise to join the chorus.

Carol presses close to your body, her front against your back, and the coarse fabric of her suit on your overheated skin adds to the fire building inside you. The vulnerability of being completely bare while she’s fully clothed and holding all the power has you melting against the desk, boneless and soft, there to take whatever she gives you.

Her lips press against your cheek in chaste kisses and she licks into your open mouth but you can’t keep up, so overwhelmed with the pleasure of her fingers inside you. She’s up to three now, filling and stretching you, fucking you faster than any normal human could.

She stands up straight again and brings her other hand around your hip to stroke at your clit, matching the speed of her thrusting fingers. You’re coming in seconds, even harder than before, clamping down on her fingers in vice-grip pulses as your hips stutter and jerk.

Carol brings you down gently this time, letting you hold her fingers inside as her other hand circles your clit slowly, giving you every aftershock of pleasure she can. She bends over you again, pressing gentle kisses to the sweat-slick skin of your neck and shoulders as you come down, only sliding her fingers from you when the last pulses are gone.

You manage to turn over, leaning back against the desk on boneless legs, just in time to see Carol licking at her fingers with a pleased-sounding hum. She winks at the hitch in your breath. “That was amazing, baby. Thank you,” she says.

You gape at her. “Thank me? Thank you. I’ll never be able to work here again,” you muse, breathless and hazy. “I’m only going to be thinking about that.”

She laughs and leans in for a kiss, trading the hint of your taste on her tongue.

“Can I go down on you? Please,” you blurt when she pulls away.

Her eyes widen slightly, like maybe she wasn’t expecting you to return the favour, but her lips curl in a teasing smile. “Well, since you asked so nicely.” She trades places with you so you’re standing in front of her as she leans against the desk. “On your knees,” she commands, and you follow, sinking to the floor on top of your discarded dress.

She undresses, but only as much as she has to, slouching off her jacket and leaving her shirt and tie. She undoes her belt buckle with deliberate slowness, then the button and fly of her pants. Finally, she toes off her shoes and removes her pants with surprising grace, and of course, she isn’t wearing underwear so you’re inches away from dark blond curls and pink folds. Your mouth waters with anticipation. You glance up for permission and Carol nods, spreading her legs. “Go ahead.”

God, you want this to be good for her. You settle in, resting your hands on the hard muscle of her thighs, feeling the soft hairs there against your palms. You spread her open with your tongue and take a few exploratory licks, getting her taste in your mouth, earthy and sharp, before you focus on her clit.

As expected, Carol takes charge of this too. She grinds against your lips, fists her hands in your hair to guide you, and keeps up a steady stream of praise. All, good girl; right there; doing so well for me, baby.

Other than the words spilling from her lips she’s quiet mostly, heavy breathing and the occasional gasp, but you know you must be doing something right because there’s no shortage of slick wetness seeping from her cunt to coat your tongue. You feel a distinct rush of pride whenever you manage to make her moan.

You pull out every trick you’ve got as you work, needing to make this good; you can’t bear the thought that this might be the only time you get to do this.

You lap at her clit in long, firm strokes, not sure how she feels about penetration and unwilling to take your lips away from her clit to ask. You keep your focus there, encouraged by the way her hips buck and her breaths get shorter and sharper like they’re being forced from her lungs in time with your tongue.

“Right there,” Carol gasps. “Don’t stop—fuck.” Your jaw aches but you hold steady, flicking over her clit as quickly as your tongue allows as her thighs tense and her breathing stops entirely. Then, with a long, low moan, all the tension leaves her at once as she comes, hips stuttering against your face. You slow down but keep up the motion until she twitches away.

Licking your lips, you sit back on your heels, face turned up to look at her. Her hair is messy, her cheeks and lips flushed deep pink, and her brown eyes seem even darker. She’s undone even more buttons on her shirt at some point and it gapes open, revealing a plain white bralette and an appealing strip of pale skin.

She smiles warmly down at you. “You look good on your knees,” she says, and your face burns as she studies you. Her eyes flit from your face, where you feel your mouth and chin still soaked with her slick, down your naked body, to your hands clasped in your lap. She reaches down, swipes a thumb across the mess on your face and presses it between your lips. Automatically you suck, pulling the taste of her into your mouth again until she takes her hand back.

There’s a moment or two of silence, and as you become aware of the soreness in your jaw and knees, and the fact that you’re kneeling naked on your office floor, you can’t help but start laughing, giggling uncontrollably as you flop down to sit on the floor completely. Carol laughs too, though less hysterically and seemingly in reaction to you more than any humour she finds in the situation.

“Oh my God,” you gasp through peals of laughter. “We just had sex. In my office. Where I work. This is not at all how I imagined this would go.”

Carol’s eyebrows raise at your accidental admission. “How exactly did you imagine it?” she asks. “And how often?” she adds, quirking her brows playfully.

You cover your face with your hands and groan as heat rushes to your cheeks yet again. Luckily, Carol rescues you from your embarrassment, effortlessly pulling you up from the floor for a kiss before pulling back to look you in the eyes. “Wanna get a pizza or something? I’m starving.”

+++

Thirty minutes later you’re sitting in a booth at the only pizza place in town, the two of you the only diners in the restaurant. Carol’s telling you a story about a brawl she got into at a bar on some planet called Argor while you both devour greasy slices of cheap pizza. Her feet nudge against yours occasionally under the table and she touches you casually as she talks.

You’re surprised at how comfortable it is between you. Even as you got dressed, handing each other articles of clothing you picked up off the floor and walking to the garage for your car. Carol’s easy charm and confidence keep the conversation running smoothly, and something about her demeanour must rub off on you because you don’t feel awkward at all.

You revel in the way she can be so dominant and poised but such a snarky dork at the same time, and you find her wide, genuine smiles just as charming as those cheeky little smirks.

As you’re nearing the end of your meal, with no mention of going out or even hooking up again, you decide you have to ask. You’re stupid enough (and infatuated enough) to agree to whatever arrangement Carol is looking for here, even though you know casual sex will only end in heartbreak for you, but you have to at least know, at the risk of spoiling the entire evening.

“So,” you start, gathering your courage. “Was this just—I mean, are you only looking for something casual right now, or?” you trail off.

Carol blinks at you over her coke. “Are you asking if I’m only interested in sex?”

You nod.

“Um, no,” she admits, shrugging. “The plan was actually to ask you out tonight. I was gonna show up, flirt with you a little—did you know you’re very cute when you’re flustered?” she teases, tapping your shin with her foot before continuing. “Then I was going to ask you out. But then you were wearing that dress and I got kinda carried away, I guess.”

“Oh. Wow.” Somehow, even after having her interest in you very must confirmed (at least physically) you still weren’t expecting that.

She nods. “Yep. I mean, I’ll be honest, I definitely would have tried to fuck you on the first date” she says, grinning at you over her drink, “but I did plan on there being a first date. Not that I have much experience with those on Earth, in this century.” She pauses, considering. “Is karaoke still cool?”

“Was karaoke ever cool?”

Carol’s lips twitch but she holds back her smile, quirking an eyebrow at you. “You should watch that attitude, baby, or I might have to punish you,” she says, pitching her voice low and smirking when your breath catches.

If you thought having a conclusive answer to the question, “Is Carol Danvers into me?” would keep her from dominating your thoughts, you were dead wrong. You’re pretty sure you’re going to be thinking about her even more now.

Bucky is going to be unbearably smug about it.

+++

A/N: Do I have a whole backstory of how Reader and Bucky became friends even though it has no relevance to this fic? Yes, yes I do.

Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoyed 😊 (Also, if you notice any typos or grammar mistakes, feel free to let me know!) Text divider courtesy of writeyourmindaway!

#carol danvers x reader #carol danvers x you #reader insert #marvel fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #mcu #marvel #carol danvers #femslash february

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gyroshrike · 3 years

Note

Tell me why you love Gamtav; give me a whole rambling essay if you can. I like seeing people excited over the things and ships they like!

Oh, are you sure you want this? Do you really want to open Pandora's Box? Are you ready for the amount of rambling I can do about GamTav? How much time do you have? Because this is going to be a doozy. I haven't even started writing it and I can tell.

And before I get into it, people gotta know that most of this is based off of pre-murderstuck Gamzee

What do I like about GamTav? What do I like about GamTav??? One of the things that plays into me loving this ship so much is how much I love Gamzee and Tavros as individuals. Whenever I start reading a new piece of media, without question my favorite characters are almost always the really, really nice ones. Boku no Hero Academia? Kirishima. Anohana? Poppo. Legend of Korra? Bolin. And in the beginning of Homestuck, Gamzee and Tavros are just really, really NICE.

Oh, well, Gamzee is really, really nice. When we first see Tavros, he’s being a little shit to the kids, but that's because he was intentionally trying to troll. But once we get into Act 5 and we see Tavros interact with his friends, we realize he's generally a really kind person. His conversations with Nepeta, Gamzee and Aradia are all really sweet. His pesterlog with Vriska, which is the first one we get to see after he is revealed to us as a character, immediately paints a picture of him as someone struggling with his self-esteem and someone who is trying really hard to build himself up as a person. Way to fuckin’ endear me to a character IMMEDIATELY.

For most of the early comic until Act 5, we see all the trolls trolling the kids and even talking shit back and forth to each other. Gamzee was one of the first trolls who we see be purely sweet and supportive to his friends. His first pesterlog after we’re introduced to him is with Karkat and Karkat does nothing but talk shit. xD He does his usual song and dance of saying just the absolute worst things possible in that Karkat way of his and Gamzee just laughs and nods and basically says, “Yeah brother, you go, I love you, you're my best friend.”

We see Gamzee talk with Equius and we already know at this point that Equius is weird, but Gamzee is so jazzed to be talkin’ with his friend. He's just so supportive of Equius and even when Equius tells Gamzee that he must stop doing soper, Gamzee just says, “Okay, sure, you got it, I trust what you're telling me because you're my friend.” Now Equius is not actually ready for Gamzee to listen to him and backtracks and is like, “Wait, no, you don't have to listen to me, let's roleplay instead,” and Gamzee's like, “I don't know how to roleplay, but I'll try for you bro.” He’s just really fucking cute???

Short version: When we meet them, Tavros is someone you want to root for and Gamzee is just the nicest guy on the planet.

Gamzee loves his friends so much and from early on it's made apparent that he wants to love and support them, and would honestly do a lot for them even if he doesn't know what he's doing.

Also along with just being a generally sweet guy Tavros is the nerd archetype I love? He loves the troll equivalent of Pokemon and card games and other things like that. Also he just really loves animals? And I always love the characters who love animals. It's a really big weakness I have. Not to mention, talking with them? That's so COOL? So badass??? Like, UM???? He could control them, but he doesn't like forcing them to do bad things against their will. (Going off of how when suggested he control the imps to defeat them, but feels like that would be unfair/mean.)

SPEAKING OF THE IMPS. Of the twelve trolls, Tavros and Gamzee are the two of them who BEFRIENDED their imps. Isn't that so fucking rad????? They both started off fighting them at first, but then they both later mention that they are able to chill with their imps instead. Gamzee shares pie with them and Tavros communicates with them using his powers. I freaking LOVE that parallel. When I first noticed it I almost keeled over. See, I'm also a sucker for characters who like to attempt peace before conflict, so of course I'm going to love that both of them made friends instead of enemies.

So Act 5 Homestuck has already set me up to basically completely love these two characters. Now, I am a really big shipper. In almost every piece of media I go into I generally come out with ships and that's a big way that I engage with fandom. Now Homestuck, I actually didn't ship that much at first when I first started reading, which is pretty strange for me. I think I just kind of let the ships fall into my lap up until that point. I know my brain had really enjoyed the ideas of Karkat and Terezi, Dave and Terezi, and had even teased inklings of "What if?" and "Oh, I like them," about Rose and Kanaya. But for the most part I wasn't really into Homestuck for shipping at first.

The concept of GamTav, or PBJ as it was more commonly referred to then, was introduced to me by my friends. I had two irl friends who were reading the comic with me and they were ahead of me by some decent amount of pages at the time. At one point they started making references to PBJ and really liking PBJ and I was a little confused because I didn't quite know what they were referring to at first. I learned pretty soon that PBJ was Gamzee and Tavros and I remember being really excited for the ship because it was the first time I'd seen my friends get that excited for a ship. Which is really funny because now in the twilight years of the Homestuck fandom, of the three of us, I'm the only one gripping white-knuckled onto GamTav and breathing it like my life depends on it, while the other two have moved on to much different things. If I'm being honest, I'm pretty sure one of them doesn't even really like Gamzee that much anymore, but respects how much I love him and lets me rant and rave to her about him whenever I want.

It wasn't long after that that I finally got to the infamous "Make out a little" conversation between Gamzee and Tavros. I read the pesterlog and suddenly everything I had seen and heard from my friends made sense. I mean, not that I'm saying that's the ONLY reason GamTav makes sense. I just mean I understood what my friends specifically were talking about. Of the pesterlogs we've seen between them before that, Gamzee and Tavros obviously had a decent friendship. I'm pretty sure in the comic Gamzee was the first person to have a pesterlog with Tavros who is genuinely nice to him. (And this is conversation happens directly after Tavros’ conversation with Vriska, so it’s a wild contrast.) So as a friendship, I was already super down with Gamzee and Tavros-- you know what? Now that I think about it, I feel like I remember in [S] Make Her Pay being disappointed that Gamzee and Tavros were fighting alone and not with each other. Because a lot of the other trolls had paired up to be cool duos, you know? We had Karkat and Terezi, Feferi and Sollux, Nepeta and Equius, and I think I remember being bummed that Gamzee and Tavros weren't paired up. So I, at the very least, think I wanted things for these two even if I hadn't stepped into the realm of actually shipping them yet. I don't remember, this was YEARS ago.

Anyway, the infamous makeout conversation happens, and I'm sold hard for life. I have a lot of other Homestuck ships that I'm into and I enjoy, but none have ever, ever, ever, ever come close to GamTav.

I realize that I've written so much and I still haven't gotten to the meat of why I like them.

So I like ships where the parties involved are best friends. I love it when the characters in a ship are bros who love hanging out, who love doing silly things together. That awesome video "What your favorite Homestuck ship says about you" had me dead to rights. Called me out so hard. My ideal ship dynamic is "being stupid together"? Way to come for the throat. That's exactly it. At their core, Gamzee and Tavros are one of the funnest bro combinations I have ever seen. And what makes them so fun is both of them are huge dorks. HUGE dorks.

When we first meet Gamzee, he stares off into the colors of his miracle modus while making the most ridiculous face, tries to unicycle but just fuckin' pieruettes right off if it because his legs are too short, and just straight up reaches into his modus with his bare hands. Don't even get me started on how he scares himself with his own horns. That shit kills me.

We've already talked about how Tavros is a huge nerd, so that's covered. But like… have you heard him rap? This guy just gets so into it and has so much fun while simultaneously sounding so silly. He's flirty and awkward and ridiculous and has this shit eating grin on all the time.

They are those two friends who get up to shenanigans where everyone else around them just kind of shakes their head and thinks that they're so dumb (in an affectionate way), but they don't care because all they DO care about is how much fun they're having together.

One of my favorite things about Homestuck in general is it lets its characters be bad at things. John and Karkat suck at coding. Gamzee, Tavros, and Dave are bad at rapping. Rose becomes a prolific author, but I would argue she's bad at writing when she's 13 because, wow is it a slog to get through her wizard fanfiction LMAO.

And GamTav is a perfect example of two people who just have fun together being bad at things together. There's no pretense of needing to be cool or needing to be good at something or any type of shame or embarrassment. They're just so silly and they don't mind being silly around each other and they never make the other person ashamed of who they are. We even see some of that last bit in the comic. Gamzee never puts Tavros down. In one conversation, he acknowledges Tavros' disability, but doesn't taunt Tavros for it, doesn't make it a joke, or make him feel bad. It's just acknowledged and then they move on. Then Tavros mentions that while he doesn't share Gamzee's religious or spiritual views, he is supportive of them. I am such a sucker for shit like that.

In every way, shape, and form, Gamzee and Tavros are supportive of each other and just and totally uplift the other person. Both of these characters go through so much verbally (both jokingly and maliciously) at the hands of their peers for being who they are that Gamzee and Tavros' conversations were so refreshing to just see them be unabashedly themselves with another person.

And they make each other happy! Tavros' first conversation with Gamzee was the first time we see where Tavros is purely elated to be talking to the person he is talking to. And Tavros obviously makes Gamzee really happy. They just make each other so happy! And I love that shit!

Gamzee is, without restraint, supportive of everything that is Tavros. Gamzee is the type of person who would look at anything Tavros wants to do or is trying to do and put his whole heart in supporting Tavros and telling him, "Yeah bro, you can do this, you're amazing, I love you, go get 'em, you're the best, you can do anything you put your mind to,” and I love that for Tavros.

Gamzee was the friend I spent all of Homestuck wishing Tavros had. Tavros spent so much time talking to Vriska, interacting with Vriska, adventuring with Vriska. And that entire time I was just wishing that Gamzee was there instead, just so Tavros would have someone to be nice to him.

After murderstuck, I spent years waiting for Gamzee and Tavros to meet in a dream bubble. That was all I wanted. I wanted Gamzee to have to look Tavros in the eye and face what he had done, own up to everything to the person he loved most in the world. But of course, post murderstuck, Gamzee gets everything stripped away from him that made him the character he was in the beginning. It wasn't even a satisfying villain arc! It was just confusing! I feel like I could have dealt with it if Gamzee was a well-rounded villain. But instead his entire villain shtick was just surrounded by a bunch of question marks! I spent all of Homestuck waiting to learn what exactly was going on with Gamzee and then we never got that and that fucked me up.

And of course, oh, of course, up until the very end of the series, in the very, very, very last animation we ever see, Homestuck Act 7, Tavros is standing by Vriska's side, as he has had to do since the very beginning.

I haven't read the epilogues or Homestuck 2, so I'm not going to touch on anything that happens in those series and I would appreciate it if no one responded to this with spoilers. Don't even tell me things like, "Oh, you'll like Gamzee," or "Oh, you'll hate Gamzee," or anything like that. I don't want any hints. I already got enough. I want to form my own opinion when I finally get the energy to go in.

Nowadays, I stick almost exclusively to humanstuck AU's for my GamTav. Because even if canon GamTav wasn't so sad and depressing, there are other things that make me way too sad to think about. As a bronze blood, Tavros's lifespan is going to be significantly shorter than Gamzee's. No matter the good or bad context surrounding their relationship. Even if they were the perfect, fluffy, happy couple in canon, I can't deal with that lifespan difference. It breaks my goddamn heart.

I live in a world where I can rewrite the circumstances surrounding these characters and make it play out in a way that is much more to my liking. Writing them in humanstuck AU's lets me take away all of the things that make my heart hurt and instead repurpose them for really meaningful, emotional character building arcs and that's my main focus when it comes to GamTav.

Something I'm also really picky with when it comes to this ship is that I need the core of Gamzee and Tavros' character growth to happen apart from each other. I have found that I don't like stories that center Gamzee and Tavros or their relationship as the pivotal point of their development. I don't like when Gamzee is the pillar of Tavros' confidence. I do like when Gamzee helps out building Tavros' confidence by being supportive and saying nice things and encouraging him, but I don't like it when he is the main source. I don't want Tavros' growth to be hinged on Gamzee being in his life.

The same goes for Gamzee. I don't like stories where Tavros is the one thing keeping Gamzee from doing bad things. I don't like when their relationship is framed as being the one thing keeping Gamzee from going murder mode all over his friends again. I've read fics where Gamzee struggles either with murderous instincts as a troll or mental health as a human and Tavros is one of the only things that keeps him from going off the deep end. I don't like that. I want Gamzee's growth to be primarily on his own or at the very least not supported by his romantic partner. Of course, I love it when Tavros is there when he needs him to hold him or soothe him or say kind things or help him through his struggles. I'm not saying I don't want Tavros to comfort him at all or ever, I just don't want Tavros to be his sole anchor.

I just love idiot best friends in love.

Oh, OH! ALSO. Gamzee doesn’t give a FUCK about the hemospectrum. One of the first things he says to Equius is how he doesn’t get it, how he’s not better than anyone else, how he doesn’t even know how to ACT better than anyone else. How am I not supposed to love that?

Opposite sides of the hemospecturm relationships are so fun. I love the idea of Gamzee entering a room full of strangers and them being like “Oh no! :O !!!! Scary subjuggulator!!” and Tavros comes rushing over all happy and excited and they just snuggle all cute and gross and everyone watching’s jaw just drops.

This might sound weird, but I also think one of the things that endear me to characters is them getting misinterpreted and then me having fun drawing them more ‘accurately’? Tavros is so often depicted as uwu soft weepy boi and I love drawing him with a mischievous grin just as ready to do something stupid and get himself into trouble as Gamzee is. Equius TOLD Tavros not to go near the stairs with his new robo legs. What is one of the things Tavros does immediately? Go try the fuckin’ stairs. And he KEEPS DOING IT.

*lays down on the floor* I just… I just want domestic GamTav where they move into a nice wheelchair accessible home (modified in a similar way to Tavros' hive in Pesterquest) and Gamzee massages Tav's back when it aches and tells him he's the light of his life and in turn Tavros holds Gamzee close on his darker days and Tavros kisses his hands and brushes his hair out of his eyes and boops his nose and they laugh so hard together that they cry.

#homestuck #gamtav #gamzee x tavros #gamzee makara #tavros nitram #hs pbj #homestuck pbj #asks for me #anon #HERE IS IS ANON #RAMBLY AS ALL HELL

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angrylizardjacket · 4 years

Text

guardian as a title {Machine Gun Kelly}

Summary: Casie's not technically your kid, but as you think about your future with Colson, maybe that won't always be the case.

A/N: 2512 words. I keep seeing fics about having a kid with MGK, but there's a lot of folks who can't have kids or don't want to have kids, but they shouldn't be excluded from having fluffy family fics!! And hes already got a kick ass daughter, so here. Written on my phone so potentially buggy. I just kind of love writing MGK who's so loving and protective of his daughter okay??

----

It took a long time to meet Casie. Colson had been hesitant; if you met his daughter, that meant whatever was going on between the two of you was real, was serious, and he'd been burned too many times to make that step so easily. Of course she knows about you, but she understands her father's hesitation, and the two of you unknowingly share patience, waiting for Colson to feel ready.

So you and he had been dating for almost a full year before you finally meet her. He picks a fancy restaurant for the three of you, and as you're making your way there, you realise you're actually nervous. By now you know where you fit in Colson's life; his friends like you, even his management team likes you, but Casie? You have absolutely no idea how she feels about you, but you know without a shadow of a doubt, that if she ends up not liking you, you can kiss any sort of future with Colson goodbye. To him, Casie hangs the stars in the sky, and he'd choose her every single time, not that you'd ever expect anything different.

You get to the restaurant first, and the reservation is under his name, so you head on in and nervously start on the ice water they bring to your table. About five minutes later, you hear Colson call your name, and you look up from your phone, eyes wide, and stand abruptly. Casie looks nervous too, all of seven years old in a pair of dark blue jeans and a pretty blouse, and you smile at her as they approach.

"Hi," she's quiet, looking you over and evaluating you, and after a moment you offer your hand. She shakes it, grip surprisingly strong for a seven year old, and she tells you its nice to meet you.

"Its nice to meet you too, I've heard so much about you," you tell her, and she gives a little smile at that. Colson pulls out her chair for her and she thanks him. She's so proper, making a show of putting her napkin in her lap as you pour her a glass of water.

Its awkward at first, of course it is, but then Casie asks what you think of the album Colson's about to release, and the tension breaks. Your enthusiasm for his music goes a long way to reassuring her it seems, and its suddenly much easier to relax into the conversation.

After dinner, you suggest swinging by McDonalds for milkshakes, and Casie practically cheers. You graciously slide into the back seat before any confusion arises, and when Casie's putting on her seatbelt, Colson looks over his shoulder to you and gives a warm, grateful look. Its going better than he'd hoped.

Its still a little strange; you practically live with Colson, though previously you've been crashing on a friend's sofa whenever Casie's come to visit, so its strange to wake up in his house on a Saturday morning, and find the two of them eating waffles and watching cartoons. It's… endearing.

Casie's staying for two weeks this time, and on the third day of her stay, Colson's called away for a meeting about his album that was releasing in a few months. He says it'll only be a few hours, but you need to watch Casie. Its easy enough to keep her entertained; after lunch she pulls out her DS, and sits next to you, not really paying attention to the Spongebob rerun on TV.

"What are you playing?" You can't help but be intrigued at the strangely familiar music coming from the device. She turns the screen towards you and you see a little dog panting happily. Nintendogs. A wave of nostalgia hits you. "That game's so old," you say with a gentle smile, but Casie just looks confused. Its turns out to be Nintendogs + Cats, but the premise is still the same. She's surprised that you take such an interest in the game, and is more than excited to show you the tricks her dogs can do, and tells you very matter-of-factly that you can walk the dog to the dog park, so long as she supervises. By the end of the day, the two of you are acting like old friends, and Colson comes home to the pair of you curled up on the sofa trying to decide which dog she should get next in the game.

She names it after you. Its far more touching than you realised it would be.

For the next few months, whenever she visits, she makes sure to tell you how Y/N The Dog is doing, right up until she gets Animal Crossing: New Leaf and lets Nintendogs fall to the wayside.

You love her dad, and you take a genuine interest in her, and after several months and a few meetings over coffee, her mom trusts you to look after her when Colson's away doing press for his album and his new tour. Thats all that matters to Casie.

You start to think the world of her; she's an incredible kid, bright and fun, but strangely sensible at times, and effortlessly cool. You find yourself thinking that if you were ever to have a kid, you'd want them to be like her, though you know children of your own aren't on the cards for your future. You'd known that for a while now, and so did Colson, though neither of you try to dwell on it much.

Whatever chance Colson takes to support his daughter, you're there too. Recitals, public speaking contests, science fairs; if you're able to be there, you'll be there, making a conscious effort to befriend her mother along the way. Its clear you intend to stick around; you're good for Colson and you're good for Casie, and that's the mpst important thing.

As your year with Colson turns to two, to three, to four, the two of you start to consider what your future together would look like.

He proposes quietly over dinner at the same restaurant he took you and Casie all those years ago. Of course you say yes. Of course you both FaceTime Casie the next day and she cheers so loudly her mother's dog starts barking in the background.

"Can I help plan your wedding? Please, please, please?" She begs, and it hits that oh, that's right, a proposal leads to a wedding. You had been so caught up in the moment that the reality hadn't quite hit you. You were going to marry Colson Baker. Your smile widens at the very thought.

"We'll talk about it when you're next here," Colson tells her with a grin, his hand in yours, fiddling with the engagement ring. Casie is over the moon, and her mother peers into the video chat wearing a warm smile, congratulating you both.

After the call ends, you're quick to start peppering him with kisses.

"Do I take your last name?" You ask, breathless, straddling him.

"If you want," he shrugs, easy smile on his lips.

"Y/N Baker." There's a kind of awe in your voice as you say it, and Colson reaches out to cup your cheek in his hand, and you turn and press a kiss to his palm.

"Y/N Y/L/N-Baker," he suggests softly, and your expression lights up as you lean into to kiss him again, a giggle escaping you.

"I hadn't even considered hyphenating!" You say with delight.

Casie helped pick the wedding colors, and was quick to start a pinterest board for inspiration, and seemed more excited than ever, bursting with ideas and always eager to help, always asking questions.

"So you're gonna be my step-mom?" She asks, and you make a thoughtful noise in the back of your throat. You're on your phone looking through wedding dresses, and she's playing Breath of the Wild on Colson's Switch, and she pauses the game to look at you. "Do I have to call you that?" She sounds dubious, and you laugh lightly.

"No way," you assure her, "only call me your Step-Mom if I start acting like a Disney villain, okay?"

Casie snorts a laugh and agrees, going back to her game, but something about the interaction sits with you. You keep thinking about it, keeping coming back to it, and you're not quite sure why until the day she breaks her arm trying to skateboard in the driveway.

Thankfully its Summer and you're home, but Colson's on set filming The Dirt when you hear her start to cry. You get her to the hospital quickly and call Colson, and he says he's on his way. The nurse approaches you, looking at the paperwork you've filled out.

"I'm so sorry, ma'am," and that's never a good sign, "we really need a parent or legal guardian here to fill out this paperwork for her."

"I'm going to be her step mother in less than a month-" you tried desperately, giving a crestfallen look to where Casie was being administered pain medication. The nurse gave a deep sigh, and you already know that almost step mother isn't enough, "her dad's going to be here in fifteen minutes." You tell the nurse, and she gives a patient smile, somewhat reassured.

Colson comes in his full Tommy Lee getup, and rushes to wrap Casie up in as much of a hug as he can without hurting her. Its a heartwarming sight, and just having him there eases the rest of Casie's anxieties.

"They wouldn't let a doctor see me because Y/N's not my legal guardian," she whined, a little out of it from the pain medication, "she takes such good care of me; everyone here's a dick," she grumbles, and Colson laughs gently, sitting beside her in the hospital bed, casting you a grateful look. He won't admonish her on her cursing, not here, not now. There's a warm fondness blooming in your chest at her words, a protectiveness that you hadn't realised you'd been harbouring until today.

Casie stays in the emergency department overnight, with you and Colson by her bedside the entire time. You call to inform her mom, who's just glad that you got her to the hospital quickly. The next day, she's released with a cast and pain medication, and is entirely too grumpy for her usually sunny disposition, though she cheers up quickly when you tell her she can have whatever she wants for lunch and dinner.

"I'm gonna have a cast for your wedding!" She bemoans the next day, reading over the instructions the doctor had given you.

"And you're gonna look fantastic regardless," you tell her, but she just throws herself onto the sofa with a huff. Eventually she rolls onto her side and switches on the TV, occupying herself while Colson calls you into the bedroom.

He's sitting on the edge of the bed, fidgeting, looking surprisingly serious. When you enter, he looks up, expression pensive.

"Everything okay?"

"I just hate to see her in pain," he admits with a sigh, but you can tell that's not all that's on his mind. You won't push him, will let him work up to whatever he has to say, and so you just sit on the bed beside him and wrap an arm around him.

"So I've been thinking," he starts, "and Casie's been thinking it too, and we ran it past her mom, because we wanted everyone sort of on board before we brought it to you," and you're not quite sure where he's going, but your heart is in your throat, "and yesterday just made me think we should have talked to you about it sooner -"

"About what?" You ask, voice quiet.

"What do you think about becoming one of Casie's legal guardians?" A bright warmth floods through you at his question, and your at a loss for words, so he continues, "you do take care of her, and you know, you're family, and she adores you, and it means there won't be anymore shit like what happened yesterday at the hospital -"

"She'd sort of be my kid too?" You ask, quietly hopeful, and Colson goes quiet, takes in your smile and realises what he's implying. Slowly, he nods.

"She'd be your kid too."

"And she- you're all okay with this?"

"Casie and her mom both love you, babe, you've made it clear that you put her safety first; her mom wouldn't have agreed otherwise."

"And Casie… wants this?"

Colson nods sincerely, pulling you in close to him.

"What do you think? I know its a lot of responsibility -" he starts, but you cut him off, grinning.

"I'd kill for her; honestly I couldn't ask for a better kid," you tell him, and he's trying and failing to suppress and enormous grin.

"She's is gonna roast the shit out of me for taking so long to ask you," he admitted, and you snort a laugh, "I had to talk her down from a proposal of her own, though I will say, she designed a pretty sick banner. Ask her about it, I'm sure she'd love to show you." He chuckles fondly, before growing quiet and contemplative, "I'm so happy about this, babe."

"You should be," you huff out a laugh, but there's a disarming sincerity in his eyes when he looks at you.

"No, I mean it, before I met you, I was always so fucking worried that the girls I met would be put off by me having a kid, or they'd get jealous of the attention I give her, but she's my fucking daughter, man, and I knew if I met someone who loved her even half as much as I love her, I'd have hit the jackpot," he paused, giving you a warm, appreciative look, "and here you are."

"Oh," and you feel tears pricking your eyes, unable to stop smiling at the sentiment, "you're a good fucking dad, you know that?"

"I hope so," he says softly, before his expression brightens, "you wanna go tell her the good news?"

You head down to the living room while Colson collects himself, and you find Cassie drawing on her cast with sharpie.

"Hey, you mind if I float you an idea?" You ask, sitting beside her. She hands over the sharpie and offers her cast for you to sign.

"Is it about the wedding?"

"Not really," you say airily, avoiding her intrigued gaze, "what would you say to me becoming your legal guardian?"

Casie cheers before you can even finish the question, and before you can finish signing your name, she's wrapping her good arm around you.

"You're gonna sort of be my kid, is that okay?" You hear yourself asking, and she rolls her eyes, grinning.

"No, I'm cheering and hugging you because I hate the idea," she snickers, sarcasm dripping from her words, but she gives you a sincere smile, "dude, I love you, I'm pumped to be your kid, can you not tell?"

My kid, you think to yourself with a smile, the best kid I could ever ask for.

#mgk x reader #mgk imagine #mgk #machine gun kelly x reader #machine gun kelly imagine #machine gun kelly #colson baker x reader #colson baker imagine #colson baker #casie baker #the angry lizard writes

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obeyme-kaidii · 3 years

Text

Lesson 43 Summary

Solomon gives everyone food poisoning, and MC spends the day with Mammon.

**SPOILERS BEYOND THIS POINT**

Mammon comes downstairs for breakfast, complaining about how bright it is outside. As he talks to MC, he realizes that no one else has gotten up yet nor have they prepared any food. He and MC decide to go check on his brothers and see why they are still asleep.

Lucifer is the first one they check on, and they are shocked to find that he is still asleep. Lucifer explains that in the middle of the night he suddenly recalled Solomon’s cooking, and just the memory of it made him extremely ill. Next, Mammon and MC check on Satan, and he passes out in the middle of his complaints regarding Solomon’s cooking. They then head to Beel and Belphie’s room, and Belphie is trying to help Beel who is feeling so sick he doesn’t even want to eat anything. Both decide it’s best to just go back to sleep.

Afterwards, Mammon and MC check on Levi, but he doesn’t even answer them, so they assume he’s still passed out as well. And finally they check on Asmo, who claims to have drunk a “bottle of water” Mammon had brought him from the fridge that he thinks may have actually been something that Solomon prepared. He quickly falls back to sleep as well, upset that he is going to miss the opening of the new Cafe he had heard about.

Mammon and MC are then talking in the halls, and realize they are the only two who haven’t been made ill. They decide that since the refrigerator has clearly been contaminated by things Solomon may have made, that it’s best to just clear it all out and buy new food, as well as some antacids in the hopes they will help with everyone’s stomach pains.

The first place Mammon and MC stop by is “The Angel’s Halo”. They notice that the cafe is still closed, so MC is given the option of making it into a date with Mammon later. Mammon gets very excited about the idea of having a date with MC where he’s not running errands for Lucifer and comments that perhaps he should even thank Solomon.

Mammon explains to MC how in the past, his brothers always take things to extremes when they get sick, but he hopes it won’t come to that since they are in the human world and limited by what they can do. He then pulls out Lucifer’s credit card and announces that it’s what he’s going to use to pay for all the food and medicine he plans on picking up today. He also admits that he may pick up a few things for himself as well while he’s at it.

Mammon finds a nearby deli, and the pair stand in line for food. While waiting, Mammon explains to MC that he’s actually pretty at home in the human world and has a lot of experience coming up there since the witches are always calling him.

He then goes on to explain that he can’t say no to the witches. His explanation is rather vague, and he mentions that they helped with some of his debts, among other things. (Assuming this is a reference to the story told in his The Guardian Demon Devilgram) He then goes on to say that he likes the human realm, and if MC were to ask, he’d stay with them there forever (instead of returning to the Devildom).

MC and Mammon then overhear some customers talking about The Angel’s Halo and how there is a rumor regarding their coffee. It’s said that if you drink their coffee, the person you’re in love with will fall madly in love with you. This catches Mammon’s interest, and he tries to play it cool and tell MC that he’d rather check out the cafe like they had planned instead of just eating at the deli.

As they walk to the cafe, Mammon insists that it’s not because of the coffee. MC is given the option to say that they’d wish he’d fall in love with them instead, and he admits that he is already madly in love with them so it wouldn’t be possible.

Just then, Mammon bumps into someone - and is surprised to find that it’s Luke. Luke is very excited to see MC, and basically ignores Mammon, which only irritates him. Luke explains that Simeon should have contacted MC already, but that they have both been busy “getting ready” for the “grand opening.” He then leads them to The Angel’s Halo cafe, where Simeon is.

Simeon then explains that the cafe is his, and claims that Michael has appointed him and Luke as ambassadors, in a sense, to “coordinate relations between the human world and Celestial Realm.” The cafe is intended to allow them to blend in and interact with the humans so that no one suspects them.

Simeon goes to prepare some food for Mammon and MC, and MC takes the time to explain to Luke about everything that has happened so far in Lessons 41 and 42. Simeon returns and both he and Luke get a good laugh about the fact that MC was hired as a “BABYsitter” for the brothers. Mammon then asks Simeon if he could have a cup of the coffee everyone is talking about.

Mammon explains to Simeon the rumor he heard about the coffee, and this bothers Simeon since he thinks it’s dishonest to draw in customers by such superstitions (but forcing the brothers to be angels was totes ok 👌🏻). When Mammon asks how such a rumor could have gotten started, Simeon guesses that it must have had to do with a stranger he offered a free cup of coffee to one day before they officially opened.

Simeon then explains that he didn’t do anything special and didn’t use his “angel powers” to help the customer. He also explains that he doesn’t have the ability to make humans fall in love (implying that other angels may).

Luke explains that angels are born with their own powers, and all of them are a bit different just like how humans are good at different things. He also shares that angels are assigned a rank based on how good they are at what they can do. Simeon is an archangel, which is essentially a warrior (so I’m assuming his powers are related to that?). Mammon teases Luke about his rank, and Luke explains that he hasn’t been assigned one yet because he’s still too young and is still trying to find out what he’s good at.

Mammon encourages Luke to “try hard” and “go for the top” so that one day he could become a seraph. Luke is embarrassed by Mammon’s teasing, saying that he’s just making fun of him, and insists that he actually wants to be a principality, which Mammon finds even more amusing.

Simeon then changes the subject back to the rumor about the coffee, and explains that he really does want to do something about it, fearing that it might also blow their cover. MC is given the option of suggesting that Mammon help fix it, which he initially objects to (saying we can’t order him around lol, ok sweetie). MC is also allowed to beg Mammon to help, and he quickly caves and agrees to help. Simeon gets a chuckle out of watching Mammon’s interaction with MC, and Luke thinks it’s so gross. 😂

Luke suggests that perhaps the best method of squashing the rumor is to start another, but Simeon is unsure if that would really be effective since there is no guarantee that the new rumor will spread. Mammon makes a comment about how if a couple had gotten into a fight over the coffee then it wouldn’t be so hard to deal with - which gives Simeon the idea of staging a dramatic breakup fight in front of other customers.

Simeon and Luke then suggest that MC and Mammon help them out by playing the pretend fighting couple. Mammon is strongly opposed to this idea, saying he doesn’t want to get into a fight with MC even if it is just pretend. 🥺 After some back and forth with MC, and a bit of jealousy about the idea of MC doing it with anyone else, Mammon finally agrees that he’d rather just do it himself.

Simeon then explains that it would be best if they did a practice run first, just to get a feel for things since they don’t want it to be too scripted and rehearsed. MC starts off the pretend fight with Mammon, who is initially a bit uncomfortable and uncertain if MC is actually acting. He then gets into it, and starts listing off his complaints about MC - basically all revolving around how MC spends time with, and is affectionate to, his brothers.

Watching from the sidelines, Simeon finds it very entertaining, but Luke is starting to grow concerned that Mammon might not actually be acting.

Mammon then finishes up by saying that he can’t take it anymore and wants to breakup. He struggles to maintain his composure and stay “in character”, and he finally breaks down and loudly declares his love for MC and reassures them that he didn’t mean it and would never want to break up with them. 🥺🥺🥺

Simeon of course is not impressed with Mammon’s inability to fake a breakup and calls him useless. 😠

Meanwhile, back at the house (I totally forgot the name, whoops), Lucifer is seen in the kitchen where he encounters Beel. Beel is feeling a bit better after having eaten again, but Lucifer and Asmo are still unwell and Levi is still not answering his door.

Beel mentions that Satan is actually in the library. Beel explains that it looked like he was searching desperately for a book, which Lucifer thinks is very odd considering how they are all feeling. He decides to head over there to check on Satan, suspicious of what he could be up to.

In the library, Satan is trying to find a spell book that contains a curse for transferring one’s physical pain to someone they hate. Lucifer overhears his plans, and threatens Satan with consequences. And Satan counters that since he’s a demon he now has to do it, simply because Lucifer told him not to.

Later, Satan joins Beel in the living room and he’s feeling much better. Satan suggests that they both head to the cafe together. Beel agrees, and then tells Satan not to pick on Lucifer so much. Satan points out that despite being a demon Beel still cares a great deal about his family, and Beel counters that Satan is the same way even if he won’t admit to it.

Back at the cafe, Mammon and MC are now helping Simeon and Luke out. The grand opening has them extremely busy, and since they weren’t able to stage the fake breakup, they are being put to work waiting tables and manning the register.

Satan and Beel then enter the cafe, and are surprised to find Luke and Simeon there (as well as MC and Mammon). They explain that they are both feeling better, and Simeon informs them that now that they are, he’s not going to let them get away and insists they help out too.

Beel is put on dishwashing duty, and is crying about how hungry he is. Mammon is mildly annoyed at how well Satan is blending in, and then turns to MC and asks if they want to sneak away since Satan and Beel are helping and things have slowed down a bit. MC forces him to stay though (which is totally lame, I wanted to sneak away with him. 🤷🏻‍♀️).

That evening, everyone has returned home and they are all exhausted. Beel is all smiles now because he enjoyed the sandwiches that Simeon had given them as thanks.

Satan remarks that he was surprised to find Simeon and Luke in the human realm. Mammon explains how they mentioned that Michael had ordered them here, which Satan thinks is really strange. He states that that’s the sort of job for “dominions” - not angels like Luke and Simeon. He theorizes that Michael might actually have something else planned.

MC then asks about Michael. Mammon says he thinks he’s like a demon masquerading as an angel, and that when they were still angels, he often cruelly punished Mammon. He also goes on to say that Michael is a lot like Lucifer. Satan says that while the two didn’t look similar - describing them as polar opposites - they actually behaved a lot like twins. Mammon also explains that he was obsessed with Lucifer, and Satan shares that he thinks it's because Lucifer was someone who Michael idolized and wished he could be more like.

Then, Beel comments that he feels rain, but they are all inside. When they look up, they realize that it’s not rain they are feeling, but a water leak in the ceiling - coming from Asmo’s bathroom.

Favorite Scenes -

A date with Mammon

Newlyweds

Mammon and the butcher

Mammon’s domestic dream

Where Mammon wants to stay

The coffee rumor

Falling madly in love

Simeon’s cafe

Angels and their powers

Asking Mammon for help

Fake breakup scene 1

Fake breakup scene 2

Fake breakup scene 3 (aka Mammon’s true feelings)

Simeon’s smile

Satan’s suspicions

About Michael

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me spoilers #obey me lesson 43 spoilers #obey me lesson 43 #obey me lesson 43 summary #obey me lesson summary

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be-bi-do-crime · 3 years

Note

Omg hey! I’m so exited to read the Valentine’s Day collab!! I love love loooove your writing so much!! So anyway I wrote my first Carulia fanfic and I just wanted to ask you what you think of this small bit? If it’s bad please tell me-I wanna improve🥺

If you don’t wanna critique it I totally get it, it is kind of long.

Julia POV

Warm rays of sunshine brushed Julia’s freckled cheeks, making up for the bite of frost in the air. The sky was a cheerful blue today, reflecting her mood. She was sitting at a street corner, admiring the view of quaint little shops that resembled the cutesy designs of dollhouses.

Saturday morning chatter rung in her ears in soft, eloquent words of French that were so different from the English required for her job. A frenzy of Bonjour’s (hello/good morning) and Comment allez vous? (How are you doing?) could be heard from across the street.

It was good to be home, to have a day off to enjoy the beauty she had forgotten Poiters possessed. As an avid traveller, there was nowhere quite like the city. Nothing could match it’s charming, Romanesque buildings or tranquil solitude.

Julia smiled at nothing in particular, a flaky, warm croissant in one hand and a timeless romance novel in the other.

How long had it been since she had gotten to relax like this? To enjoy the nature of her city and not have to chase a certain red rogue across the globe? The very same red rogue she struggled to protect from her coworkers?

A sigh escaped her lips. Suddenly her mind wandered to someone she hadn’t wanted to think about: Carmen Sandiego. The thief never ceased to plague her thoughts lately. A warm blush tinted her cheeks as she recalled the kiss they had shared in Cairo, Egypt. There was a sort of thrill in knowing it was so, so wrong, and Julia hated the adrenaline rush it gave her.

Their last interaction had been a week ago, and it had been on an ACME mission rather than the late night visits the thief had begun to pay her. The absence of the red rogue pained her terribly. She missed Carmen. She missed everything about her from her cunning gray eyes to her knowing smile, the light rasp to her voice, and the feel of her lips. She had barely gotten to see the lady in red recently.

Would this be what a relationship with the woman would entail? Random visits sprinkled through the weeks while Carmen gallivanted around the globe and Julia had to pretend she wanted her behind bars? Would she be doomed to live with this uncertainty, this emptiness?

At her inner turmoil, the thief seemed to appear before her with her signature smirk, the curl of her lips forever ingrained in Julia’s memory. Hallucination-Carmen spoke, reciting the promise she had made her not too long ago. “We can have a normal relationship, Jules. We’ll be able to see each other everyday, go on dates, do all of that couple-y stuff. I promise.”

Julia had scoffed at that, of course. Maybe in another world where she wasn’t dating a thief, for goodness sakes. But still she wished there was some way the red rogue could fulfill her promise. Julia knew that what Carmen was doing was absolutely important but....she couldn’t help but be selfish and wish she had her to herself.

On top of that, though, there was the fear that whatever was happening between the two was nothing but physical on Carmen’s end, that this...fling...would be over in a heartbeat and the red rogue would once again disappear with Julia’s heart, only this time she wouldn’t return.

She didn’t want fo think about that.

Trying to take her mind off her worries, Julia reopened her book. The petite woman frowned, nibbling on the last of her pastry and lazily scanning the page for anything interesting. It was one of her favorites, yet she couldn’t bring herself to relax, to forget.

Sighing, she closed the book with a sense of finality, tucking it safely in her messenger bag. It was no use. Nothing could keep Julia’s attention from Carmen for long.

“Partir déjà?” Said Nadia, Julia’s friend and the cashier. The woman adjusted the side of her hijab before opening the cash register. “Habituellement, vous passez toute la matinée ici lorsque vous êtes absent.”

TRANSLATION: “Leaving Already?.....Usually you spend the entire morning here when you’re off.”

Julia smiled sadly. “Quelque chose me vient à l'esprit ces derniers temps, Je ne peux pas me détendre.”

TRANSLATION: “Something has been on my mind lately. I can’t relax.”

Nadia smirked knowingly. “Querelle d'amant?“

TRANSLATION: “Lover’s Quarrel?“

Julia felt her cheeks heat up. Nadia was one of the few people who even knew she was seeing someone, let alone the fact that that someone was a thief. “Entre autres, oui. Il s’agit plus de mon travail.“

TRANSLATION: “Among other things, yes. It’s more about my job.“

Nadia shook her head, making a tut sound. “Tu travailles trop dur.“ She inserted her credit card into the register, swiping twice before the transaction was complete. “Vous savez, les filles et moi allons au Buckingham Club ce soir. Tu devrais venir. Je parie que cela vous fera oublier ... quel est son nom? Carolyn?“

TRANSLATION: You work too hard....You know, the girls and I are hitting the Buckingham Club tonight. You should come. I bet that’ll take your mind off of...what’s her name? Carolyn?“

“Carmen.“ Julia corrected with a smile. “Et Je ne sais pas, pas ce soir. je n'en ai pas vraiment envie.”

TRANSLATION: “Carmen....I don’t know, not tonight. I don’t really feel like it.”

“ S'il vous plaît? Ce sera amusant!?” Nadia replied, making an exaggerated pouty face.

TRANSLATION: “Please? It’ll be fun!”

“Je ne devrais vraiment pas.....”

TRANSLATION: “I really shouldn’t...”

The cashier shook her head, pressing her lips into a thin line. “Oh, Julia, tu es toujours aussi ennuyeuse.”

TRANSLATION: “Oh, Julia, you’re always such a bore.”

Jules simply smiled in response, pushing the rim of her glasses up her nose. “Peut-être la prochaine fois, Nadia.”

TRANSLATION: “Maybe next time, Nadia.”

She said her goodbyes and left the small cafe, the little bell at the door signaling her departure. The cool, crisp air met Julia immediately, the frost already kissing her skin. She turned the corner, making a beeline for her apartment complex when suddenly, a certain beeping sound caught her attention.

A very familiar beeping sound.

She threw a discreet glance over her shoulder before darting into the nearest alleyway, ducking behind the nearest dumpster before removing her pen from her pocket.

Julia clicked the cap, tossing it to the ground as she wrinkled her nose at the stench.

“Agent Argent.“ Chief’s no-nonsense voice came as her hologram blossomed. “I have a new mi-“ She paused, taking in Julia’s location.

“Are you behind a dumpster, Agent?“

Julia felt her cheeks heat slightly “I was in public and had to be...creative...“ She replied curtly, breathing through her mouth.

“Right....anyhoo,“ Chief began again, adjusting her blazer. “I’ve got on assignment for you. I’m sorry to interupt your time off, but you’re the closest agent in proximity.“

Julia smiled sadly, scratching her wrist. “It’s alright, chief. I was feeling restless anyway.“

Chief cocked her head in mild concern. “I’m sorry to hear that, Argent. It’s nothing too serious, but we have reports of some meddling with the security systems at the Louvre. I need you to investigate.“

“Of course. Will Agent Zari or Devineaux be accompanying me?“ She asked, already picturing the splendor at the Louvre. Maybe a trip to the museum was just what she needed today.

“No. Zari and Devineaux are on a case in Santo Domingo.“ Chief said, beginning to pace the length of the alleyway.

“Khadija or Jonas, then?“ Julia replied, referencing two agents she’d been paired with in the past, albeit less frequently than Chase or Zari.

“You’ll be going it alone today. Intel indicates that Carmen Sandiego won’t be present. I trust you can handle a routine check up.”

“I’ll take care of it, chief.“ She answered, giving a small salute to her superior. Internally, Julia released a sigh of relief that she wouldn’t have to tail Carmen.

“Good. Transportation has already been arranged and the details should be on your phone.“ Chief said, crossing her arms. Almost simultaneously, her phone pinged with an encrypted email from ACME.

“Don’t disapoint me, Agent.“ With a terse nod, the hologram disappeared from before her.

Quickly, she darted home and changed into her ACME-issued suit before making her way to the train station. Paris was waiting, after all.

...

No matter how many times she frequented the city, Paris never ceased to amaze Julia with a million new places she hadn’t visited yet. The Louvre, however, was an outlier to the fact. It was Julia’s favorite spot to hit whenever she was in the area.

It had been One-Thirty when her train had pulled into the Paris Saint Lazare, a station settled on the right bank of the Seine and the one closest in proximity to her destination.

The Louvre lay before her in all its grandiose splendor, afternoon sunlight glinting off of the crystal pyramid and casting a rainbow into the burbling fountain before it. The Famed palace of the same name was set on either sides of it, the tasteful renaissance era architecture transporting her into another time.

Julia smiled. She knew every corner of the museum. Every nook and crany was immortalized in her mind from it’s renowned Petite Galerie to it’s extended Egyptian exhibit.

She removed her ACME card from her messenger bag, thumbing it’s side to allow her interpol credentials before going to speak with the security

As promised, a staff member was waiting for her once she got inside.

“Bonjour. Julia Argent, Interpol Britain?“ A tall, skinny man with hooded blue eyes and unkempt blonde hair stepped forward.

“Oui.“ She replied, flashing her badge. “Marcel Cardone?“

“Oui, correct.“ He answered in a thick French accent. “Thank you for coming.“ He said, gesturing for her to walk with him.

Julia smiled. “Bien sûr. J'ai été informé mes supérieurs de la mission. Pouvez-vous me dire quel semble être exactement le problème?“

TRANSLATION: “Of course. I was briefed by my superiors on the mission. Can you tell me what exactly seems to be the problem?“

Marcel spoke as he led her through the halls of the grand building. “Do not worry, I am fluent in English. I do not know the details but the head of security will inform you on the matter.“

“Sounds good,“ Julia said reverting back to English. Her guide stopped at a door with la sécurité (security) written in bold script.

“This is it, mademoiselle.“ Marcel said, opening the door and leading her to the back. Standing before her was another door. Probably to an office, Julia guessed. “Monsieur Toussaint? L'agent d'Interpol est arrivé.“

TRANSLATION: “Mr.Toussaint? The interpol agent has arrived.“

A tall, stocky man with brown skin glanced up, adjusting his glasses. “L'agent? Miss, le problème s'est corrigé juste avant votre arrivée.”

TRANSLATION: “The Agent? Miss, the issue corrected itself just before you arrived.”

“Il n'y a donc rien de mal avec la sécurité?” Julia asked, confused.

TRANSLATION: “So is there nothing wrong with the security?“

“Plus maintenant, non...” Mr.Toussaint answered, scrutinizing her.

TRANSLATION. “Not anymore, no.”

“Mais je suis venu tout ce chemin...” She answered, slightly disappointed.

TRANSLATION: “But I came all this way....”

The man scratched the side of his head in mild concern. “Nous sommes désolés, mademoiselle. Perhaps you would like a tour of the Louvre in compensation?”

TRANSLATION: “We are sorry, Miss. Perhaps you would like a tour of the Louvre in compensation?”

“No, it’s quite alright, thank you.” Julia murmured, tugging at the hem of sleeve.

“Please accept. Nous allons même le rendre gratuit!”

TRANSLATION: Please accept. We will even make it free!”

“If you insist.” Julia smiled awkwardly.

“Good.” Mr.Toussaint lifted the phone on his desk, dialing as he spoke. “Cheryl? Préparez-vous à faire une visite. Oui. Rencontrez-la près des statues.”

TRANSLATION. “Cheryl? Prepare to give a tour. Yes. Meet her by the statues.”

The balding man put the phone down, swiping through the many papers scattered on his desk. “Our tour guide, Cheryl, will meet you out by our Sculpture Department. Please enjoy your day.”

They exchanged goodbyes and thank-yous before Mr. Toussaint returned to the millions of files on his desk and Julia to the swarming museum crowds.

Deftly, Julia navigated the throngs of people, making her way to the modern sculpture exhibit. As promised a woman was waiting before the exhibit checking her watch.

Her dark red-brunette hair was pulled into a pony-tail, and a pair of green khakis and a blue blouse contrasting against her flawless brown skin. From the back of her head, Julia could see a thick pair of glasses settling at the rim of her nose.

She seemed familiar, so very familiar....

And then she spoke. “Enjoying the view, Jules?”

The light rasp, the sultry tone of voice...

The petite woman gasped. “Carmen?”

“Surprise.” The thief said with a smirk.

“What’re you doing here?!” Julia asked, confused. Was Carmen behind the security issue already being solved before she arrived?

“You must have mistaken me for someone else,” The Red Rogue grinned coyly, reaching over gracefully and slipping her fingers between Julia’s. “I’m just Cheryl Vasquez, foreign exchange student and Louvre Tour guide.”

“Of course.” Julia scoffed but played along. “And what would Cheryl Vasquez be doing touring the Louvre?”

“If you’re asking whether I’m here to stop VILE, then no. They aren’t trying to steal anything. I’m here of my own accord.” Carmen replied, her thumb tracing circles along Julia’s palm.

“So I suppose it’s just a coincidence that I was sent here on a mission?”

Carmen winked at her, her rouged lips relaxing into their signature grin. “Yep. A coincidence. Absolutely nothing more.”

A twitch of annoyance flared within Julia. Sometimes Carmen’s games could get tiring. “Well then, since you aren’t stealing anything, I’ll be on my way then.”

“What?” The thief said, for once taken aback.

“You heard me.” Julia began with a smirk, turning in the other direction. “Have a nice day, Miss Sandiego. The Louvre is quite the sight to see.”

“Not so fast, Jules.” Carmen grasped her wrists gently, pulling her in close. Julia blushed, her mouth mere inches from the thief’s. She parted her lips gently, her eyelids sinking lower. Her tongue flecked across the expanse of her bottom lips as she waited to meet the thief’s lips for the first time in more than a week.

“Huh?” Julia said in confusion as she felt the other woman’s heat move away from her own.

Carmen was no longer before her, lips moving closer. Instead she darted away from the smaller woman, a smug grin scrawled on her beautiful face. She waved Julia’s ACME gas gun in the air teasingly, throwing her a wink. “A theft in progress is occurring, agent. You’re lawfully required to follow.”

“Carmen!” Julia shouted in shock, not at all caring about the attention they were gaining from their fellow museum-go-ers. “Give it back!”

“Come and get me!” She called with a trickle of laughter, disappearing into the hordes of people.

Julia smiled despite her frustration and ran after her, for once not at all caring that her behavior was extremely unprofessional.

That was what Carmen did to her. She...freed her. Allowed Julia to relax, to sit still, to live in the moment.

Julia felt all the tension that had built up over the course of the week melt away as she pursued the chase and danced across the Louvre court yard.

She chased Carmen out of the museum, nearing the edge of the complex. “Aha!” Julia shouted, finally catching up to her lover and realizing a smile had formed on her lips.

“You’ve got me, alright,” Carmen smiled, lowering her lashes flirtatiously as her voice lowered teasingly. She slipped her arms around Julia’s waist being just tall enough that the shorter woman had to slightly look up to meet her eyes. “Now what’re you gonna do with me?”

Julia answered her with a kiss, feeling the thief’s bright red lipstick smear onto her mouth. The lady in red captured Julia’s lower lip with her teeth, chuckling at the ACME agent’s Yelp of surprise as she tugged. Every gasp that managed to escape her lips was swallowed by Carmen’s mouth as she pulled her closer with passion.

“Mhm, I’ve missed that.” Julia smiled. “I’ve missed you.”

“You aren’t the only one.” Carmen purred against her lips. “You have no idea how badly I wanted to come and see you...but...”

“It’s alright, Carmen. I understand.” Julia whispered, touching her forehead to the Latina’s and lacing her fingers through the thief’s. “Do you plan on telling me why you’re here, though?”

“Can’t I just pay a visit to my favorite ACME agent?” She teased, beginning to lead Julia out of the museum complex.

“At my apartment, yes. But here?”

“Okay fine....” The thief relented, turning away. Julia spotted a tiny tinge of a blush dusting her cheeks. Carmen? Blushing? “I....may or may not have had my team hack the museum security and leave a trace to VILE to get you sent here.”

“Carmen!” Julia hissed. “You could get caught! And for what? Just to see me? You can meet me at my apartment!”

“Hey, hey, what’s done is done, alright?” She said, her arms flying in front of her in attempt to calm her down. Then, she smiled. “Aww you were worried about me. That’s adorable.“

“Thats-Thats not!....Thats not the point!“ Julia tried to fight a blush but it was no use.

Carmen laughed, caressing Julia’s face and tilting her chin up to meet her eyes. “Hey. I know you mean well. I’ll be more careful from now on. Promise.“

“O...Okay.“ Julia murmured, the woman in red’s slate gray eyes catching her off guard.

“But...since you’re already here....we should make the most of it, no?“ Carmen smiled sweetly, for once with no tinge of smugness to it.

“Alright.“ Julia relented with a small grin. “So is this a....date?“

The latina winked, her teeth sliding over her bottom lip. “Do you want it to be?“

“No! I mean...I just thought...“

“Relax, I’m messing with you.“ Carmen said, taking Julia’s hands in hers. “The truth is...Jules...I wanted to prove that I’m serious about this. About us. You...mean a lot to me, and I want us to be about more than just random hookups.“

The petite woman felt herself smiling at the other’s words, and gave the red rogue’s hands a squeeze. “You have no idea how relieved I am to hear you say that.“

Carmen returned her grin, running her thumb over Julia’s knuckles. “Explanations aside, are you ready for the greatest date in the world?“

Julia’s brow tugged upwards along with her lips. “The greatest, huh?“

Carmen threw her a flirty glance. “Hey, I don’t settle for second best.“

“I can see that. Alright then, Miss Sandiego.“ The shorter woman said coyly, “Show me what you got.“

....

ANON!! THIS IS SO AMAZING OH MY GOD?? for your first fic this is incredible and i absolutely love how you write them!! everything is so in character and carmen absolutely would create an entire heist just to meet up with jules 😭

i don’t have much to critique: just a few minor spelling errors here and there and some misplaced punctuation but that’s it, everything else is so good?? i’m serious this gave me so much serotonin omg,,, if you post it on ao3 let me know and i’ll be sure to leave kudos and a comment!! <3

and thank you so much for enjoying my writing, i can say the same for you :D

#asking carmen #long post #receiving julethief fic in my asks inbox is a blessing

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junetuesday · 5 years

Text

sweetener - [six]

Look At Me Now

Pairing: Tom Holland x Female Reader - uni AU

Word Count: 3346

Warnings: swearing, sushi, softness

A/N: hello! this part was so much fun to write so i hope you guys like it! lemme know what you think. the title for this chapter is a reference to All Time Low - For Baltimore which kinda fits this chapter perfectly so I recommend listening to that (I’m on such an ATL hype lately it feels like 2010 in my house). p.s. shoutout to @starksparker for the moon story lmao

Updates Sunday nights

You're really fucking cute when you laugh. You're even cuter, Tom thought, when you're laughing at something he said.

Was that a bit egotistical? Perhaps. Perhaps he was a little biased, but he was pretty sure it was true. He was staring, he knew he was, but he couldn't bring himself to look away just yet. Your eyes were closed anyway, screwed shut as you leaned back in your seat, cackling with laughter. As the evening had gone on your laugh had gotten louder, and maybe it was the wine or maybe it was just because you were more relaxed (and maybe one had impacted the other), but what started as a polite giggle had grown into a chuckle, into a chortle that seemed to take you by surprise, and now into an outright cackle. Tom was laughing too, obviously, but he was holding back to make sure he didn't miss anything, make sure his guffaw didn't drown out your giggles.

You started to compose yourself then, so he looked away, looking down at his cider and bringing the bottle up to his lips.

"Okay, okay," you leaned forwards, resting your elbow on the table and your chin on your palm, fingers curling around your jaw. "So he actually thought that each country has its own moon?"

"Yes."

"Like, the moon we see is a different moon to the one they see in the US?"

"Yep."

"Wowww..."

Tom felt a little bad about using his brother's stupidity for his own gain, but only fleetingly - it was his right as an older brother, surely?

"So d'you have any other siblings or is it just the two of you?"

You sank back in your seat again, more relaxed now, running your fingers along the stem of your wine glass as you talked. You'd already been over your family tree, anecdotes and Fun Facts thrown in along the way.

"Yeah, no um, he's a twin so there's those two and then Paddy's the youngest."

"Oh cool, twins. Are they identical?"

"Nah," Tom shook his head. "Both boys but not identical. They were pretty similar when they were little but not really any more."

"Ah okay. All caucasian babies look very similar to be fair." you shrugged, the corner of your lips curving up as you spoke.

"True." Tom chuckled, nodding.

There was a brief pause as you both drank, the chatter of the other people in the bar filling the silence. It was relatively busy, but not so much so that you couldn't hear one another speak.

"Four boys though - Jesus, your poor mother."

"Yeah," Tom smiled as he set his bottle back down. "Our house is, uh, loud, to say the least. Until a couple of years ago there was always at least one broken bone in the house. Mum still sends a Christmas card to the Minor Injuries Unit at Queen Mary's."

You snorted into your wine at that, spluttering, and okay, maybe it wasn't exactly pretty but Tom decided it was definitely the cutest you've looked all evening. Which was saying something, because he was starting to think you always looked cute.

"Don't make me laugh when I'm drinking!"

"Sorry!" He lied, he wasn't sorry at all. "She does though!"

You coughed a little as you composed yourself, still smiling as you set your glass down. Which, Tom noted, was almost empty.

"D'you want another drink?"

"Not yet," you shook your head. "I'm gonna pop to the loo, actually."

"Oh, cool."

Tom watched you hoist your handbag over your shoulder as you stood up, following you with his eyes until you disappeared down a corridor towards the ladies, and he couldn't help but grin to himself at how well the evening was going. It was a little awkward at first, obviously, but only a little. He was saved from that kind of weird interaction of "do we hug? What's the protocol here?" when you first arrived because it was pouring with rain outside, so you were busy shaking out your umbrella anyway. Plus, the weather gave you something to talk about at first, which led to you telling him about how you really needed to get the hole in your boots fixed. You always forgot until it was raining and your toes got soaked, but you were kind of waiting until you went home for Christmas anyway because the cobblers where you lived had a dog that hung out in the shop and you wanted to have an excuse to see how he was doing. That led to him telling you about his dog, and it just kind of went from there, conversation pausing only to order drinks and pick a table to sit at. You'd laughed and aww'd at all the appropriate times when he told you how he'd saved up his wages from his first job the summer after GCSEs to buy a puppy without telling his parents, and were suitably enamored when he showed you photos, whining "oh my God I love her, what an angel" (which, in his opinion, is the only acceptable reaction to Tess). He'd almost choked on his drink when you did a startlingly accurate impression of Harrison, and by the time you were onto the next round all awkwardness and anxiety had melted way.

Tom almost felt stupid - no, he did feel stupid - for how much he'd umm'd and ahh'd about you the previous week, how much time he'd spent whining when he could have been hanging out with you. The thing was, it wasn't that he couldn't talk to girls, or that he didn't know how to flirt, he just struggled to know when to do it. It was fine at work, say - he could make off-hand comments and fire cheeky grins at every other customer, because then there was a barrier between them. It wasn't real, not really. It didn't matter if they liked him or not, it wasn't going to go anywhere and it wasn't supposed to go anywhere. It was just easy. And he knew how to be someone's boyfriend - he was quite good at it, if he did say so himself - it was just the bit in between that vexed him. Past casual flirting, once it got to the "wait do you actually like me? Do I like you?" stage, he lost his footing and got completely thrown off. It'd been so long since he'd actually started a relationship with someone, and last time he didn't even really start it, it just sort of happened, and now he couldn't help but second guess his every move. He hated it, hated how uncertain it made him. He wasn't used to it, and he supposed that was what made it all the more unsettling, like he didn't even know what to do about not knowing what to do.

That all changed though, when that little red (1) badge popped up on his phone next to the Snapchat icon. Once he'd gotten over the initial shock of receiving a photo of you in your underwear, it was like something clicked inside his brain. That couldn't be misconstrued, right? You wouldn't have sent him that if you weren't into him, right? After that, it was all so much easier. He could relax and, as Harrison so helpfully suggested, just do it. He still agonised over what to send back, of course he did, lifting his t-shirt up enough to show a hint of the muscles he worked so hard for and then deciding to just take his t-shirt off altogether (as though that made him look like any less of a dickhead), but after that it was fine. He hadn't even realised how long you'd been texting until you said you were going to sleep, and he decided if he couldn't carry on talking to you right then, he had to ask you on an actual date. A first date? He wasn't sure if the library counted. Probably not. Anyway, this, he was fairly sure, counted as a date.

Tom was snapped out of his thoughts when you set your bag down on the table, so caught up in his own head that he didn't notice you walking back over. Shame, he thought, a missed opportunity to look at you fully.

"Have you eaten?"

You sat down as you spoke, wiggling your skirt down into place. A deep maroon colour, it sat perfectly on your waist, skimming over your hips and stopped at the tops of your thighs. Opaque black tights covered your legs, an off-white blouse tucked into your skirt and heeled ankle boots on your feet.

"Not really," Tom shook his head. "Had a Rustlers at lunch but I don't think that really counts as food."

"No," you laughed. "I'm pretty sure there's no meat at all in a Rustlers burger. Um, there's a Japanese place 'round the corner that I've heard's good, if you wanted to..."

"Sure, yeah." He nodded enthusiastically as you trailed off, picking up his drink to finish off the last bit.

You downed the last mouthful of your wine, smacking your lips together as you stood up. Pulling on your coats, you both headed for the door.

"Think it's stopped raining, thank God."

Tom held the door open for you, smiling when you thanked him. You were right, it had stopped raining, so your wet umbrella, no longer required, dangled from your left hand. Unfortunately, Tom didn't clock that until he was already on your left side, falling into step beside you. If he had, he would have gone to your other side, because he kind of really wanted to hold your hand. Sigh.

"So is this place like sushi or noodles, or what?" he nodded in the direction you were leading him, which he assumed was towards the restaurant.

"Both, I think? You can order proper dishes but they've got a conveyor belt that goes around with little sushi plates on that you just like, take what you want."

Your eyes lit up and you grinned as you talked, the prospect clearly like being a kid in a candy shop to you. It was very cute, and Tom was really kicking himself that he wasn't walking on your right so he could squeeze your hand as it swung about excitedly.

"That's just asking for trouble."

You shrugged. "Instant gratification. Works for me. It's this way."

You pointed to your left, rounding the corner at the end of the block. You turned before him, knowing where you were going while he was just following you, so he fell a step behind. Perfect.

"Oh I see," he sighed, falling back in line with you, only on your right side. "You're high maintenance."

"I'm no-" you gasped, affronted, cutting off when you turned to your left and he wasn't there. You looked over your shoulder before twisting back around to look to your right, rolling your eyes playfully when he started laughing. "That really confused me for some reason, I was like 'where the fuck has he gone?'"

"Too much wine on an empty stomach?"

Tom glanced down at your hand, preparing to reach out and link his fingers through yours - only to find that you'd swapped your umbrella to that hand, your left now free. What the fuck?

"Probably. But no, I'm not high maintenance, I just...I like getting what I want - but doesn't everybody?"

He couldn't really argue with that, so he just shrugged. "Fair enough."

"And right now," you said as you slowed down in front of the restaurant. "What I want is sticky rice and California Rolls."

Perhaps it was unwise to let you sit next to the conveyor, picking things off with a wide-eyed 'oooh' every few minutes. It seemed to make you happy though, so Tom could hardly complain, though he did almost choke on his water when the waitress added up all the plates and gave you your total bill.

"Whoops," you murmured under your breath, biting your lip sheepishly.

Looking up from reaching into the pocket of his leather jacket to see you pulling your purse out from your bag, Tom shook his head vehemently. You'd bought a round each at the bar, though he'd tried to pay for both, but this time he was putting his foot down.

"I'll get it, it's fine."

(It wasn't fine, he was about to go into his overdraft and there were still two weeks left until Christmas break, but you didn't need to know that.)

"No honestly, I ate way more than you did."

He scrunched up his face at that, tilting his head. "I really don't think you did."

The waitress snickered, watching the two of you argue.

"Split it? I'm not letting you pay for my lack of self-control."

"Fine," he sighed exaggeratedly, rolling his eyes. It was clear you weren't going to give in.

You smiled, satisfied, and handed your bank card to the waitress triumphantly.

The bill settled, Tom excused himself to the bathroom before you left. Looking at himself in the mirror, he readjusted the collar of his pale blue shirt, smoothing out the white t-shirt he had on underneath. It was warm in the restaurant, so he'd left his leather jacket discarded on the back of his chair, his arms exposed by the short sleeves of his shirt. Normally he would have rolled them up a bit, but it made his arms look lumpy when he had the jacket on, so he'd left them down. Probably for the best, Adam says it makes him look like a prick when he does that.

After a cursory glance around the bathroom to check he was alone, he gave his armpits a quick sniff - all good - fixed his hair, and leaned in close to the mirror to check that the spot on his chin was definitely still gone and hadn't reappeared since he left the house. On checking his teeth for any rogue bits of seaweed - again, all good - it occurred to him that he'd just eaten rather a lot of seafood, and he really really hoped he had some gum. As luck would have it he did, one piece left in a crumpled wrapper in the back pocket of his jeans. He chomped quickly, aggressively, trying to get the mintiness in contact with as much of his mouth as possible, before tossing it into the bin on top of the paper towel he used to dry his hands. Not wanting to be in there too long in case you thought he was having a shit, Tom left the bathroom after one last look in the mirror, ruffling his hair to make sure it didn't look too done.

When he got back to the table you had your coat on ready to go, your legs swinging off the edge of your seat while you sucked on mint happily. You offered him the other one off the tray that had come with the bill, putting it into your handbag when he declined.

"Shall we?"

He didn't really know what he meant by that, but it's just what you say isn't it. Thankfully you didn't question him for specifics, just nodding and getting to your feet once he had his jacket on. Over the last hour or so your umbrella had dried sufficiently for you to put it away in your bag, Tom noted, both of your hands wonderfully free by your sides. He opened the door for you again, and you waited while he stood there holding it open for an elderly man to shuffle past into the restaurant without so much as a glance at Tom. He frowned as the man passed, but didn't say anything, holding the door open until he was fully over the threshold - obviously, he wasn't going to drop the door on him. You were watching the man too, murmuring 'you're welcome' once it was clear he wasn't going to say thank you. That sort of thing would normally have annoyed Tom, because really there's no excuse for bad manners, but just then he didn't really care, because you smiled as you looked back over your shoulder at him, and he slipped his hand into yours when he came level with you. You bit your lip, but he could see out of the corner of his eye that you were smiling almost as wide as he was.

You walked hand in hand back the way you had come, towards the center of town where the buses went from, a comfortable silence between you as the wind whipped around your bodies.

"You getting the bus home?" you asked as a bus stand came into view.

"Mmhmm," he hummed. "You?"

"Nah I'll get a taxi, bus that goes to mine stops at ten."

Tom looked at his watch, surprised to see it was well past half-ten.

"Shit, sorry, you should have said I-"

"No no," you cut him off, shaking your head with a soft smile. "It's fine, I was having fun, y'know."

You were approaching the bus stop by then, and he was about to say he had fun too, until he saw his bus go past out of the corner of his eye.

"I think that was my bus."

Real smooth.

"Oh."

"They're like, every fifteen minutes though." He checked the live departure board, even though he knew there'd be another one soon, but he could feel you looking at him so he had to do something. "Yeah, due in thirteen minutes."

"Cool." You nodded when he glanced at you. "Should we-" you gestured to the bench under the shelter "-I don't mind waiting."

You dropped his hand as you both sat down, crossing your legs towards him and tugging your skirt down a bit.

"Thanks. But yeah, I, uh, I had fun too."

Your tongue flicked out over your lips, pulling the bottom one between your teeth as you smiled. You must have put lipgloss or something on while he was in the bathroom at the restaurant, because your lips were glistening, little flecks of glitter making them look so plump, so inviting...

"Ahhh-"

A gust of wind blew through the bus shelter, pushing your hair across your face. You brushed it away, but a strand or two stayed stuck to your lips, clearly as drawn to them as he was. Muttering under your breath, you tried to pull them away, but couldn't quite get them.

Cute. Too cute.

Tom chuckled, reaching out and pulling the hairs aside, tucking them behind your ear. His fingers grazed over your cold cheek, and he couldn't have asked for a better opportunity really, so he cupped your jaw instead of dropping his hand back into his lap.

"Thanks," you breathed, and Tom felt more than saw your lips move, because they were right under his, your warmth breath ghosting across them before they connected.

It was different than before - last time was just a peck, really, closed-lipped and chaste. This was more, your lips parting slightly and working with his own. He went to pull back after a moment, but your hand on his thigh stopped him, made him move his hand from your jaw down to the back of your neck. You leaned into him, your lips prising his further apart until your tongue slipped delicately into his mouth. You tasted minty and sweet and vaguely like vanilla - which was ironic, Tom thought.

Or he would have, if he'd been thinking at all, and not entirely consumed with how you were kissing him and how your hand was gently squeezing his thigh and then, oh, you pulled away.

You laughed breathily, your hair whipping against his hand as another blast of wind blustered through. Tom swallowed, glancing between your eyes, down to your lips, and back to your eyes, and all he could think was that he really didn't want to stop kissing you.

"Is this-"

He didn't even get to say "okay?" before you were humming against his lips. He laughed into the kiss, feeling you smiling back.

"Cool."

⋘FIVE | SEVEN ⋙

tags: [bolded url means i couldn’t tag you!] @starksparker @bi-writes @softspideys @thwippeter @cutiehollands @loserparker @madmadmilk @hollandlovely @spiderboytotherescue @hollandbaby @dtftomholland @cabbagebag @iknowisoundcrazy @spiderman-n @luvnyuh @parkerpuffwrites @thwip-it-real-good @positiveparker @ap93mcu @popculture-parker @bilkyrie @pineapplwz @thequeensardine @hollandroos @mikalaka @awkwardfangirl2014 @booksaremylife @learning-howto-be-myselfx3 @mcuspidey @summernykolemusic @smashley816 @unicorn-princess-1999 @uwu-peter-parker-uwu @shawnraulparker @curlyhairedparker @curlytoms @darlingxholland @smexylemony @musiclover1263 @hueppily @therealcap @alwaysafanficwriter @timelock97 @trustfundparker @bon-travail98 @babyplutoszx2 @xxtomxo @que-es-life @spider-babes @expcto-ptronum @rosieredcheeks @laucontrerasv @sweet-baby-cakes @mismatchingsocks @rxsesinjune @toomuchdaegu @baebeepeach @killer-barnes @hauntedbysilence @fratboievans @splashofbi @nicole-lynne @whydidichoosebiochem @parkerindustrys @parkersvibes @tomhollandsbitch @summertime-acoustic @solarspidey @enchantingkittengaditor @hcneybugs @queenofthefangirls7 @fabtasticass @driftingtonystark @txmhoelland @applenter @little-hoseok @mayaisntfunny @toodeeptowake @dangerousluv1 @chubby-cheek-calum @awwyeaahh @aussie-mantle @spiderkat1248 @underoosjae @ultrunning @stormyparker @supernatural-girl97 @petersfreckles @tiny-parker @madeinthemidnightmemories @iamcalledsteph @bellsclarkee @iamscribby519 @captainsteverodgersgirl @jessjesstotherescue @just-a-littlebit-of-everything @littlebookbengal @danicarosaline @xplodingsocks @yourwonderbelle @tommyhollandaisesauce @spiderrpcrker @mellow-delight @danny-the-coolest @gennyld-blog @parkerstylesperalta @spidey-waffles11 @wisdomsprydexparker @hannahholland1811 @hufflepuff-wanda @what–you–egg @lexshead @thisismyblogthing @i-stan-brie-larson @ohmyquackson @tiny-friggin-human @deathofmissjackson @stop-wonder-think @alexs-mardy-bum @marshmallow-babe @smolholland56 @relise-thefury @stretchkingblog97 @1022bridgetp @nedthegay @jurassicparker @fairydustparker @altuniverse @rekrappeter @sofiarasines @misslexilouwho @kissykissykissykissykissy @tomshufflepuff @theideasofa-troubleminded @bearsbeetsbarnes @lala-florez @plxstic-rose @cancerous-lizard666 @quinjetboi @newsienewsie @crazy-bout-books @adayasgeorgia @alexv2902 @fragilebeautifulchaos @oh-my-fancan @amor-y-comida @soccerstud004 @myimagineoutlet @kaleidoscopic-sunflower @boundtorain @holdinbacksecrets @spidermeggo @redmxnn @wdwimagine @chewie-redbird @sedulouswrtr @5secondsofalphas @undiadeestos @hufflepuff-always-and-forever @queenbcornelia @aclassypuppy @rhapsodyparker @kindheartsclub @littlegreenpill @particularmila @fangirling-gallifreyan @vintage-parker @peterparkoure @captainbuckyy @tom-hollands-blog @imagine-lovebug

#tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland fic #tom holland fanfic #tom holland imagine #tom holland blurb #tom holland headcanon #tom holland fluff #tom holland x female reader #tom holland uni au #uni!tom holland #student!tom holland #student!tom

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blooddrop-palace · 4 years

Text

Project Updates - What to Look Forward To

<3 Hello all! I've realized (humbly) that I have a small following of very nice people that seem quite interested in what I've written so far, and after seeing some mutuals post update-status posts, I thought I should share what's going on with my projects, also. (Thanks for the encouragement, @queenmuzz!)

Updated Dec-10-20

Sons of Fortune

Probably somehow my main focus now, though I am steadily working on other works. Currently working on the “In Between” special short before I start on Chapter 12.

I would also like to talk a little bit about my plans for this story: if anyone has paid attention to this story's tags, yes, I am touching up on the plots of most of the games. In fact, all of them, and the anime. (I already dealt with DMC4. No, I will not tear apart Fortuna lol.) Not all relevant tags are in, yet, because small spoilers. It looks like it's going to be a long while before I even get to the Temen-ni-gru, though. (There is a reason why that event is getting pushed back.) I want to have fun with the family fluff that is the twins each learning how to parent, first.

Hell Froze Over, and We Shall Reignite It

The drama of it all! Dante and Vergil are finally back from Hell, and Nero doesn’t even know his mother is now standing right in front of him. Meanwhile, even I’m anticipating seen how Snow and Dante is going to handle the obvious things currently unsaid... and I have a feeling a small measure of stupidity is still going to be involved.

Current chapter progress: Outline complete.

It's going to feel so interesting, shifting from "Fortune" back to Reignite. I get to write Sera and Vergil falling in love all over again, with a different set of circumstances. Whoa.

And, and... Nero meeting Sera... odd that I'm saying this as the writer, but I have a "I hope he likes his mom" feeling going on.

Also, no doubt Dante's brain is going to 404 when he sees Snow.

Nico prepares popcorn.

This is Not an Office Rom-Com

I have... about 8 new skits planned out. Nothing more written just yet.

That’s all I’m saying about this for now. =P

Hierarchy of Kings

Purely indulgent M/M romance of Vergil and an OC, existing all thanks to

@wordborne

Working on chapter 2.

I know I said 3 chapters only. I might have lied depending on how much I want to write. It's supposed to be just... awkward fluff of a listless part-devil who somewhat-recently lost his mate, got in a bit of a tiff with his brother, and now his children are trying to set him up with the prospective-king-of-hell, Vergil.

I think about this one a lot but I haven't written anything new for it yet, only because "Fortune" is taking over my life right now, haha.

Through the Lens of the Beholder

Okay, so...This story has no real plot. As a result, my drive for it is purely down to "if I think of a badass or cool photograph to describe." There is a TINY bit of plot. Only a little. And I don't know when I'll update. But this is why I'm trying not to START new projects. Four is a lot already! But because this one is supposed to be simpler than the other two, I will most likely finish this one before the others, so I can open a new project.

---------------

Speaking of new projects... Here are things ideas bouncing through my head:

- I still have a prompt from @maybeishouldwait sitting in my inbox. I WILL have it done one day, when I find the perfect way to write it.

A whole, entirely royally late set of Dadgil week fics. Yep. I want to write them. They just won’t be on time.

Written in Ink

A plot-less post-DMC5 story.

I say plot-less. There is a plot. The plot is:

Dante: Damn it, Verge, are you trying to turn my office into a zoo??

In which Vergil compulsively starts contracting strong demons he's defeated, left and right, because he's discovered "the joy of pets." The demons all take on a dark animistic form and things get wild.

A Persona and DMC fusion/AU

I have no title for this yet, and I absolutely cannot start this one until I have finished one of my other big projects. This one will take a lot of big planning, because I am making a new plot, using the mechanics of Persona, with DMC characters and setup.

What I want to write, is a teenage Nero as the protagonist, trying to solve a mystery... probably starting with the sudden disappearance of his mother. (Most likely Sera.) And he meets a lot of "new" people, and even finds new family... and yes, he will find his dad. (I'm thinking he'll know about Vergil, though. At least in name and a photo? Isn't that an interesting difference?)

For those of you not familiar with Persona, the major theme I really want to play with is that of the protagonist growing as a person (and in power) by befriending different people that helps them grow as a person. Each party member and important NPC is represented by a Tarot Card, signifying the type of journey the protagonist (The Fool) "embarks" with that character. There is growth in both the protagonist and that characters.

Again, this is ambitious to try and pull off... but it's in the back of my head. I'll focus on it once I've cleared some other stuff.

Sugar Sweet

A somewhat short-chapter series reader fic... of a surgeon/doctor!reader (barely 30 and good at what you do) who often saves the lives of shady people (e.g. mafia) because you care about saving lives, not the politics. But you do make good money out of it. (Hey, you gotta be at least a bit morally ambiguous if you're going to deal with devils.)

You meet one mess of a young mercenary named Dante, who is totally not human and deals with things like having bullets healed into his back, and he can't reach them to cut them out.

Dante doesn't care about bills for his office, or a lot of the debts in his life. You don't know where his money is going, or if he even makes much money at all (for the kind of specialty work he does? Money's going somewhere, but that's none of your business.)

You won't pay Dante's bills, or his debts, but he will accept pizza and ice cream. And new parts for his jukebox. And maybe a motorcycle. Or a new coat. Or a new car...

And you might complain to him about your dumb patients. Or just listen to him talk about his job. Or you two watch a movie together.

And this just continues. For years.

Tokusatsu DMC fusion/AU

So. First thing's first: I'm a big fan of Sentai/Tokusatsu. What is that, you might ask? It's a Japanese genre, and if you're familiar with Power Rangers, that's derived from Sentai.

Basically: Masked heroes with transformation gadgets, sometimes with motorcycles, fighting against evil. ("Magical girls" but strictly the opposite, a lot more physical combat involved, may involve upgrade gadgets, and not strictly limited to male heroes though mostly a male cast. Also not strictly for male-only audience. Girls like the eye-candy, too. :eyes-emoji:)

Why am I thinking about this?

Because I have found out that: Vergil's VA, Dan Southworth, was the Quantum Ranger (WHICH WAS RED). Nero's VA, Johnny Yong Bosch, was a Black Ranger and a Green Ranger.

...And Dante's VA, Reuben Langdon, had a role in a Japanese Toku show as "B-Fighter Yanma" forever ago???? (HE WAS BLUE!!)

What am I going to do with this info? I'll let you know later. But my Sentai/Toku-loving little heart is about to burst with hyperfixation overlap.

If I ever write this out, expect it to be just as cheesy as an actual Kamen Rider show. Or, at the very least, expect some art. I love Kamen Rider stuff!

Family Fantasy MMO

Snow introduces Dante, Vergil, Nero, and Kyrie to Final Fantasy 14 (because that’s the MMO I play) for family bonding. Yep. Mainly for silly indulgence.

Stardew Valley Visit

Post DMC5, Vergil and Dante accidentally end up going on a vacation when they try to leave Hell. No pairing with the farmer, but instead just a relaxing and somewhat introspective moment of the boys being stuck with most of their power temporarily sealed, learning how to take care of a farm, and maybe do a bit of healing by interacting with the townsfolk while they try to find out where their swords went and how to get home.

Re-Colourize

Otherwise what I would call the “re-colour of Nero and Snow” AU.

What if Vergil was found by Kassy’s family and raised among them? What if Dante ended up briefly in Fortuna and then convinced Sera to run away from the island?

What if we have a Nero who, though brash, is outwardly more soft and open-hearted, and has red-orange and gold colours instead? What if we have a Snow who is named Chiyuki, who wields her katana more like Vergil does, and has a more ice-queen aura about her, and has a teal and blue colouring about her?

This is my excuse to switch up the pairings, but also write Vergil being taught to fight more like an assassin.

Raised by the Blade

Imagine: Yamato, cracked, broken, and separated from her Master... desperately searching for a way to get back to him, and ended up washed up on the shores of Fortuna. Humanoid, but clearly not if anyone saw the cracked, broken, and no-normal look of “shattered” in her torso, that she would have to keep covered.

Made from the power of Sparda, she is pale with white hair... and she finds herself drawn to the orphanage...

Where she finds the toddler that is Nero.

Devil Hunters’ Podcast

Nico “accidentally” finds entertainment in recording the Sparda Family arguments as they talk about hunting; after all, they all share one braincell.

Ascended Monochrome

A white angel remains by the side of Nelo Angelo. Mundus was not pleased by the behavior of his second creation, from the human woman that he had picked up with the treacherous Son of Sparda. But he later discovered that by using her, he could keep Nelo Angelo complacent. Eventually, underestimating love will be his downfall.

Fall to Royalty

A story of where Vergil wins against Mundus the first time, and takes the throne of Hell. But what is he to do next? Eventually, ruling Hell seemed meaningless when there was no one by his side, so he goes to seek out the Lady Knight that he had vowed to never think of or go back to unless he had obtained the power he sought.

Doppelganger Woes

So, I heard Capcom retconned Gilver to be some sort of imitation created by Mundus. I’m all for this! And I’m going to DO something with this.

Side-Project: DMC Tarot List

I started on this maybe months ago; and I have a tentative list oh what characters go with what card and a few detailed descriptions. I think I should confer with

@harlot-of-oblivion

at some point about this, and anyone else interested in, well, Tarot stuff.

#devil may cry #fanfiction #Project Update

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jungkooks-tea · 5 years

Text

Straight to the Pointe I pt. 2 (M)

Originally posted by kookiegguk

After working years to place yourself in the best academy for the arts you struggle to find the same love for ballet you once had under the intense pressure and blinding lights of the industry. The balance is almost impossible and with cocky hip-hop dancer, Jeon Jungkook, always around showing you another world entirely, you aren’t sure what you want anymore.

- Pairing: hiphop!jungkook x ballet!reader (small side Jiminxreader)

- Word Count: 7k

- Genre: College!Au (kinda, arts school), eventual smut, enemies to lovers

- Warnings: multiple smut scenes, really simple dance talk, industry abuse, eating disorder, no beta reader

- A/N: I just want to again say thank you for the all the love from part one. This story is so much fun to write and I’m glad that I gave it shot and even uploaded it. Thanks for the comments, likes, and reblogs - I hope you’ll continue to enjoy it. Also, I just want to bring attention to the fact that I am by no means a professional dancer nor ever was. This story is not a factual representation of the ballet industry. It is much more angsty.

Pt. 1 I 2 I

part two

5:43 A.M.

You sighed as you look down at your athletic watch, a small puff of condensation leaving your mouth. The early morning air was chilly around your form making you grateful that you wore your runners’ long-sleeve instead of the tank top that you usually opted in for your morning runs. The last glimpses of summer were trying to find their way in, but you and the rest of Korea knew that fall was coming quickly.

Releasing yourself from your small break at the street sign change you took off again in your brisk jog. Your step was a bit more picked up than from the start of your run – your warm bed somehow screaming out your name loud enough for you to hear across campus.

It was almost dreadful getting out of bed this morning. You had slept horribly during the night, twisting and turning with anxiety due to class and fucking tights. Jungkook, the asshole, was also part of the dilemma, but you believed that if you just tried to ignore that one the problem would go away soon enough. He was simply not worth the lack of sleep – stupid comments and more.

Making room for the other early joggers on the walkway, you made sure to keep your head down. Though there weren’t many runners you would rather keep any interaction to a minimum. Not only do you think you wouldn’t be capable to keep a conversation up – even if you did know them and they wanted to stop and chat – you weren’t exactly the nicest before you had your coffee reward at the end of your daily run.

So, when you saw another runner coming up ahead, hood up hiding his identify you didn’t think twice about just looking ahead and continuing on.

“A-ah! Y/N! Hey!”

You quickly stopped, your sneakers giving a light sound against the pavement. Looking behind you to see who could know you – hoping that it would be just a quick ‘hello and goodbye’ type of thing. But it wouldn’t be.

Smiling at you with one of the brightest smiles in the industry was Park Jimin. You watched as he quickly took out his earbuds and walked up to you. Immediately you felt embarrassed. Here was Jimin, one of the most beautiful people to probably walk this campus, even in his blue hoodie and grey joggers, coming up to you, someone who looked like they got punched in both eyes due to the bags under them and sweaty from running. “Great,” you thought. But you tried to muster up the best smile you could because this had to be fate, right?

“Hey Y/N!” he greeted again. “What happened yesterday, I was paying one minute and the next you were gone?”

You felt bad. You honestly did. Not only were you lucky enough to meet Jimin, have dinner with him (plus friends), but after receiving nothing but kinds words you ditched. But his annoying friend got the best of you. Though you knew you could not say that. Instead, you came up with a little lie.

You hand gripped onto your other limb’s long sleeve in some form of support. “Ya, sorry about that. I suddenly remembered I forgot something at the ballet studio and needed to rush over before the building got locked up.” You hoped he bought it, especially since the ballet studio was left unlocked for long hours over weekdays. You summed it up with the following “I was really gladded that I got to meet you and the others though. I had no idea that Mina knew you.”

Jimin gave a wonderful laugh in return. “Well I’m glad that you were able to get there on time,” you smiled in return. “Still,” he continued. “I would have liked to talk with you more. I mean, like, I know you from competitions and programs, but I don’t know you. Mina mentioned that you were nice though.”

Chewing on your bottom lip you felt a small blush form on your cheeks. You hoped that Jimin thought it was from the cold.

“I don’t know if you’re done with your run or not, but there is this small coffee place just a little off from here that I usually go to after I finish mine. Would you like to go?”

You tried to keep your head-nodding controlled and cool as you agreed with him, “Y-yes, I would love too.”

Jimin smiled in return, turning towards the way you had come, and he was going originally – waiting for you to fall in step with him.

The sound of your bed yelling out to you no longer filled your ears.

Just the sound of Jimin’s laugh.

________________

The coffee shop was truly a short distance from where the two of you had made contact. It was very small but was warm and smelled delightfully of the cinnamon rolls. You couldn’t remember the last time you had one but apparently the aroma was enough to have your mouth salivating.

Jimin, the wonderful gentlemen he was, held thoughtful conversation with you the entire way and even held the door for you. You understood that those actions were just honestly common decency, but it was towards you from the other young dancer, so, it meant so much more.

“What do you want? My treat,” Jimin started taking out his card from his phones wallet’s case hugging the back of the black silicone.

You almost gagged at him. How can someone, whom you honestly barely know outside professionalism, be this good to you? But you made movement to stop him.

“A-ah, no it’s fine I can pay. You literally just paid for our meal yesterday, it wouldn’t be right.”

He laughed, not stopping from walking up to the counter where someone else was ordering first. “It’s okay, Y/N. I stopped you. And I invited you.” You started to try and argue again but was hushed. “Besides I know how much those pointe shoes cost and I know how fast someone like you can go through them, so let me just do this for you, ya?”

The urge to argue again was wanting to break through your lips, but in the end, Jimin was already speaking with the barista to order. He looked at you raising an eyebrow to tell you to get a move on.

“A small black coffee please – the blonde roast.”

“No cream?” Jimin asked as you two made your way to the small booth by the windows.

Shaking your head you replied, “No, I much more prefer my coffee black.” That was another lie. Though you could drink coffee straight, your body continually craved the smooth crème that helped sooth the bitter taste of your caffeine pumped liquid. You just couldn’t have it.

“So, do you like Minji so far? It’s probably a big contrast compared to any other program you’ve been a part of, ya?” Jimin started taking the seat across of you. He used the hand not on his own cup of coffee to push back some his blonde hair – messing it slightly. “I know that I was pretty overwhelmed when I got here a year ago.”

You almost forgot. Jimin was a year ahead, and in terms of skill level, was probably looking at completing the program early. You could only wish to be on the same path as him, but what was his path? The young dancer across from you was kind of a wild card in your mind and in many others. One day he was appearing in ballet magazines and the next thing he wasn’t – but you still found him in similar programs as you occasionally, dancing to Tchaikovsky and Verdi. What were his plans for the future?

Your finger scraped against the mug’s ceramic, pondering. “Well, it is definitely different – that’s for sure.” Jimin nodded, waiting for you to continue. “I mean Minji has always been the plan, but I guess no amount of preparation can prepare you for Ms. Younghee.”

Jimin’s locks flooded upwards as his full out laughed, craning his head back against the cushion. It was musical sounding and even a bit boyish – but you liked it, a lot. Between his word’s giggles continued to escape, “Younghee,” he started. “Ya I guess the witch can be pretty intimidating.”

This time you actually gaped at him. Making him laugh even more.

“I mean don’t, get me wrong, she was an amazing dancer, but no one is that good to be treating people like their bugs on their shoe.”

You were honestly shocked. While you understood that Younghee was by no means everyone’s cup of tea, the argument was that she could do what she wanted because of just how great she was. But here was Jimin, a born dancer, saying that Younghee really wasn’t worth the hype she was given.

“Is,” you contemplated your next question carefully, not wanting to offend the man across from you. “Is that why you’re not officially part of the ballet program? Because you don’t like Younghee?”

Jimin took a quick sip of his beverage before placing it down and smiling at you. The warmness remained not only on his face, but also in your chest. “That and for other reasons. I love ballet – I really do. But I’ve found myself to be leaning away from it professionally. To be honest,” he looked out the window, “I don’t really know what I want to do yet.”

Though you tried to not let it fester, your chest began to tighten uncomfortably. You understood that Jimin was, well, he was exceptional, and had the ability to pick and choose. He could do ballet, he could do lyrical, and, from what you saw yesterday, he could live in the world of hip-hop too. But here he was telling you that ballet wasn’t his true calling – even if he took upper-class and solo lessons. Perhaps it was because you weren’t in the same position as him, having the capability to do it all, that it made you jealous.

Ballet was all that you knew and was the thing that made you get up in the morning and strive to be better – to become the best. If something happened to you – where you couldn’t put on your pointe shoes anymore – you don’t know what your life would be even worth. You knew that many other dancers felt this way too.

You were shoved out of your own thoughts as you watched Jimin get up, grabbing your empty cup. He dropped the ceramics in the dish bin before making his way back over, “You ready to go? Sorry I didn’t even ask what time you needed to get going.”

You stared up at him, taking in his beautiful skin and smiling face. Nodding you stood up and left out the door with him.

Maybe you were overthinking and shouldn’t be feeling the way you do. Ballet wasn’t for everyone and maybe Jimin just found passion in something else.

________________

Your conversation with Jimin stayed in your mind many hours after you said goodbye.

Now in the same dressing room as yesterday, this time dressed correctly and with no fucking teared tights you waited tell Mina returned back from the restroom. She had asked why you left so suddenly after dinner via text last night, but you were honestly too tired to even explain. Opting to just tell her that Jungkook had gotten too much for you to handle during warmups.

“Y/N.”

You looked up and smiled at Mina who had just returned. Her hair was up in a stylish double bun that helped keep her long hair out of the way made her look even a bit cuter than normal. You have always preferred to keep your hair in the professional and standard single bun, hair neatly pinned back so nothing could potentially fall out of place. Perhaps it was because you were trained to never standout unless need be and that in ballet, looking the same was better than being unique. You envied Mina a little at this moment who perhaps was not structured this way in her ballet upbringing.

“Hey, Mina, look!” you gave an exaggerated leg thrust to show off your toned leg covered in a light pink fabric. “No tear!”

Mina giggled, happy to know that your day was off to a much better start compared to yesterday. She continued to smile towards you, watching as you pushed yourself off the bench you were sitting on. Slowly, following many other dancers out the door, you and Mina made your way to the main practice studio. You noticed how the walls, unlike those at the hip-hop studio, had little to no natural light. The small windows allowing little warmth to penetrate into the mirror filled room. It made you frown a little.

“So, are you going to tell me why you just left yesterday?”

You gave a silent groan feeling the urge to grab at your hair. Giving Mina an apologetic look you started, “Ya, sorry about that Mina. It’s just that Jungkook guy really kept hitting my buttons. When you guys were paying inside, he just kept calling me ‘Prima’ and, I don’t know, it just really got on my nerves, I guess. Maybe I was being overdramatic.”

Mina raised her delicate hand to her mouth not wanting to draw attention to her little laughing fit. “But Y/N, you are a Prima.”

You just about fell over in shock. How could Mina, probably your one true friend here, say that to you. Wasn’t she your ally? “M-mina! How could you say—"

“I mean, let’s be honest Y/N,” she smiled at you gently. Looking over she watched over the other dancers work on their own warmups, some of them showing off how many pirouettes they could do – like children in 5th level ballet classes. “You probably have the talent to actually be a Prima Ballerina one day – to be like Ms. Younghee. So maybe Jungkook was actually complimenting you.”

You struggled with her comments, though you knew they came from a good place in her heart. Even flattered that she thought you could one day be like Younghee. Despite what Jimin said earlier, Younghee was someone who everyone wanted to be in the industry. To have her parts, her connections, her history. Though you doubted that Jungkook was actually trying to compliment you. You figured he was probably a guy who thought ballet was boring and not worth the funds nor hype that the school put into it. He was probably jealous and gave the same treatment to the other ballerinas he came across.

Either way, you were just going to forget about him and focus on your own business. Hip-hop and ballet didn’t exactly mix, so you figured you’d only see him in passing again – if ever.

The two of you made your way towards the same bar location as yesterday, fitting yourself in to begin stretches and warmups. You didn’t have to miss a rotation this time due to your tights and was able to go back to your automatic, almost robotic-like. Just how you preferred. No distractions. No wandering thoughts. Just you, and the bar.

Almost as soon as the clock hit 12, the door to the room opened. Pushing yourself into a tight first-position, you watched as Younghee made her way to the center of the room. Taking a look around to make witching eye contact with almost every person in the room. You tried not to look away when she graced you with her vision – it seemed to last an entirety.

She made her way to the old speaker, hitting the small button to play the same music as the day before.

Always the same.

________________

Younghee spared nothing today. She worked every single person to the bone. Your own leotard was damp with sweat – thankful to the black color for hiding it. There have been many lessons that have gotten you to the point of exhaustion in your career, but to Younghee this seems to be her normal. There was an odd twinge in your triceps as you lowered your arms for the final time for this class. Although your arms have been sculpted over the years to be slim with muscle underneath, the work they went through today made them ache with foreign pressure. Perhaps you had been focusing too much on legs the past couple of months in preparing for Minji that you half-assed your other important limbs.

“I need to go to the gym after this” you thought with a small scowl. You were hoping that you’d have time to maybe do some reading – your only form of downtime. Even if it was readings about ballet history and performance memoirs.

You were brought out of your thoughts as the most important woman in the room began to speak – her tone even but eyes scorching.

“As many of you probably already know, Minji Academy puts on many productions throughout the year. But of course, the most important is the Nutcracker.” The room didn’t buzz with excitement like it would have when you were children.

The Nutcracker, a timeless favorite to young and old viewers, was much more to those who performed on stage. It was an opportunity to showcase what you learned, how you behaved on stage, and, even more so, where you were in the industry hierarchy. You were most definitely talented if even given a role – two even – but anyone could tell you there was a difference between being casted as a party member and being the Dew Drop. And as first years, it was even more important because if you were given a part that was mostly reserved to upperclassmen. It meant that you were better and someone to watch closely.

You felt yourself stand up a bit straighter – if physically possible - as your thoughts ran away with possibilities. Everyone in the room did the same.

Younghee began to move among the room, each step purposeful and elegant. “Now, there are only about two months ‘n half tell then which means that auditions will be next week.”

Again, there was little buzz, this was normal. Auditions unlike what many people thought in the ballet world, were not people going in solo announcing they were looking to play the part of such and such. It was a big hall filled with dancers all doing as they were instructed and being watched under the careful eye of multiple instructors – looking for who would be the best for which part. You didn’t know who was going to get what until the paper was posted.

“I trust that everyone here will be part of the audition, but may I say, that not everyone will get a part. Let that speak for itself.” Again, nothing in the atmosphere changed. “Dismissed”

The room, like before, and as everyday would be, erupted in light applause towards Younghee – thanking her for her words and presence.

You looked at Mina, silently asking if she was ready to go. However, as she nodded and started walking towards the door you, and most others, stopped as Younghee’s voice came through.

“Ms. Y/L/N.” You froze. Mentally, you double checked everything you did today in hyper-speed. You were dressed correctly, hair still in place even at the end of the lesson and didn’t even speak. What did you do wrong? What could she want? “I would like to speak to you for a moment.” The older woman began to walk towards the door, the rest making room so she could do so.

Mina and you made a quick eye exchange as you followed the woman, trying to not let the other eyes the burrowed into your body bother you. You noticed the smirk the Jihyun gave you but ignored the snake as you made your way out the door.

You stayed a couple feet back from Younghee as she made continued to walk in silence. Rather quickly you noticed that you were heading towards her office.

Patiently you watched as the older woman sat down in her office chair, pinching a piece of nonexistent lint from her formal long sleeve. With long fingers she signaled towards the seat. You sat, no question.

Looking around the large office you noted the dark frames that protected several photographs – some black-n-white others of color. Many were of Younghee herself from back in her prima ballerina years showing off her elegance in action. Others were of birds, snapshots that were not quite good enough to be professional but still nicely lite and focused. Perhaps Younghee had a hobby outside of scaring ballerinas out of their tutus?

“I’m sure you are wondering why I’ve brought you to my office Ms. Y/L/N.” You gave a slow nodded answer. “I’m here to discuss your future here at Minji Academy. I know that you are aware that I accept nothing but the best and nothing but the best moves forward in this industry.”

Your chest felt tight. Was she already kicking you out? Did you mess up somewhere and didn’t notice? Did you miss a single rotation? This is all you ever wanted. If you were kicked out now… you didn’t know what you would do.

“Usually I do not delve into the previous life of my dancers here at the academy – I trust that those in admission have some half of a brain to recognize potential – and I never truly care either whether they won this or that program or dance in some offshore production of Swan Lake. As far as I’m concerned as soon as a dancer steps into my studio, they are nothing more than bodies until they can show me that they are actually worth my time.”

Your bottom lip hurt; you hadn’t realized that you were biting it quite so roughly. Using the tip of your tongue you tasted for copper – not being able to afford any sort of bruise on your body. But what was Younghee getting at?

“However,” you watched as she placed her hands on top of each other, noting that there was no ring on her left hand. “When someone like Kim Eun recommends somebody to me, I don’t necessarily just overlook it.”

Although she continued to look somewhat bored, Younghee finally made full eye contact with you. Her dark eyes, looking into yours as if searching for something more than you were presenting. You, on the other hand, felt a slight sign of relief course through your body. As Jimin had brought up the day before, Kim Eun, a highly esteemed judge and former dancer, had given one of her highest scores at a program you danced at not too long ago. It was one of your proudest moments and something that you personally cherished – but never truly shared. After that program, many recruiters sent you emails and personal messengers to ask for you to apply to their school or even their company. But your heart had been set on Minji since the beginning so none of them truly mattered.

“I just want to let you know that I’m watching you very closely Ms. Y/L/N. And that I expect nothing but perfection from you from this moment on. And while Ms. Kim’s score and recommendation perhaps makes you think you are good enough already, you aren’t.”

You try not to wince at her latter comment.

“I will work you like you have never before, and I expect that you will handle it without problem. I will challenge you and see to it that you do not fail me or this academy.” You nod. It is the only thing you can do.

“That is all, you may leave.”

You quietly thank the woman and leave the office, softly closing the door behind you with a click.

Once outside the door you placed yourself against the wall, taking in deep breaths. Your heart was racing, and your face felt too hot for comfort. While what Younghee said could potentially be taken as a compliment, the thought that her eyes would be watching you more intensely, judging every move, every mistake was incredibly daunting. You felt like you were going to throw up.

“Y/N?”

Jumping slightly at the sudden voice you lift your head to see Mina approaching you, a slightly worried look on her face. Your brown bag was in her hand, she must have grabbed it after leaving the dressing room to come find you. She was too kind.

She approached you, her face was clearly trying to put on a brave face because honestly one of you had to be at the moment. Quickly, to not worry her enough, you said, “Hey. I’m fine. Younghee just wanted to speak to me about my future here I guess.” You gave a gruff light laugh at the end, making you sound unconvincing.

Mina raised a thin eyebrow to this, but instead of questioning anything -or really just wanting to get it off your mind – she changed the topic completely. Giving your bag to you in the process. “Jimin texted me while you were with Younghee. Said there was going to be a small party this weekend if we were interested in going.” She blushed a little, putting back that non-existent hair strand. You could already tell that Mina wanted to go, by the little buzz of excitement she silently gave away at her comment. She was just looking to see if you wanted to go.

Honestly you were not a party goer, or even more true, there hadn’t been many to go to when you were growing up. Ballet and school consumed your entire schedule. Any true precious time off was for catching up on rest. It shocked you that at a school like this there were even parties. But perhaps Minji was more than just classical music and ballet. And not everyone had Younghee watching them like a hawk.

“I-I’ll see if anything is taking my time this weekend.” That is all you could give her, and while Mina honestly hadn’t known you for that long she understood that was just how you were.

“Well,” she started looking at you with a smile, “let’s go find a practice room.”

________________

You slowly stretched your arms in the corner of the school’s private gym. Although you were tired – exhausted actually - from Younghee’s lesson today, the strain in your triceps worried you. Normally you would incorporate yoga to help strengthen your arms outside of class, but you thought that the lack of focus and time has had them grow slightly weaker. And thus, were in dire need from the assistance of weight machines at an actual gym.

The gym wasn’t bad. It had the necessary equipment and gave people at the academy who weren’t in dance programs to work out well enough. But because the primary programs were dance, there were more wide-open spaced rooms that could double as solo practice rooms if the other buildings were being used. You and Mina had frequented those before official classes had begun during orientation week. And at this current time of day, it was fairly empty.

You loved to work out to be honest. It was the only time you really allowed yourself to listen to music outside of the classics and let the fire of current hits and old ones fill your ears and your veins. It made you want to move.

“Perfect,” you thought.

Searching for a simple machine to use you walked up to a pull-down bar. Taking a quick seat and adding the weight you desired you began to move. The twinge in your arm gave an uncomfortable tickle with each pulldown, but you assumed it was from lack of proper use and the weights giving a challenge. A couple more reps and you’d be good to—

“Prima?”

You almost groaned out loud.

Although muffled by your earbuds, you could not miss the sound of a very unwelcomed voice. Releasing the bar you were holding carefully you turned slightly to look at the man that you honestly thought you weren’t going to see again. Apparently, fate had different plans.

With a small smirk on his lips, Jungkook stood over you, forcing you to look up at him from your seated position at the machine. He was in a pair of black joggers and a plain white shirt that looked a little big on him. You noticed the dampness on his shirt around the sternum area. It caused the material to stick slightly to his chest, giving a decent outline of pectorals.

You were quick to look away to not only save yourself from being caught staring and to honestly signal that you were not really wanting his attention. Hot or not, he wasn’t your current favorite person.

“What you’re not going to talk to me?”

You gave an exaggerated huff, hoping he would get the hint. Apparently, he didn’t by the way he continued to stand there. Giving an eye-roll you turned back to him saying, “I’m trying to work out.” You didn’t except the chuckle that left him.

“I can see that, but what are you trying to do? Give yourself a tear?” You just raised your brow at him, not quite understanding. “The way you’re holding the bar and the weight you have on here is not good. Nor giving you the benefits you think you’re getting.” You weren’t really sure what he meant. Sure, you weren’t exactly the most knowledgeable about this particular machine, but you imagined – based on the image example pasted on it -that you were doing fine. And the weight wasn’t that heavy.

“Here, let me show you.”

Hesitating at first you gave Jungkook another sideways glance. Why was he trying to help you? You clearly made it known that you didn’t like him – you picked a fight with him and flipped him off during your little storm out. And now, one day later, he was trying to help your form? Did he forget or was he just ignorant?

You felt the twinge return to your triceps. The unpleasant tickle making you wince slightly more. You figured, if the dark-haired idiot, could help you, you might as well let him. After your discussion with Younghee you knew that you needed to get better. And desperate times call for desperate measures.

Sighing, you twisted around, lifting your bare leg to get off the cushioned bench you were on. You didn’t miss the way Jungkook stared for the quick movement. Such a boy.

Sitting down soon enough Jungkook began to mess with the weight settings, adjusting them to the weight he liked. You had to admit you were a bit impressed with the heavy load he believed he could handle.

“First your weights were too heavy.” He started off. “You want enough to fill a slight burn but not so much that you feel like you’re pushing yourself too much. Or else you might get bulky. And from seeing the way you and the rest of your tutu-wearing friends look, I assume that isn’t what you want.” You rolled your eyes, already regretting agreeing to his help. “Also, your grip was incorrect, you want to do it the opposite way, so it actually works your triceps muscle.” Using one hand to hold the puller low – oh so maybe this was light weight for him? – he pushed his white sleeve up revealing his taut muscle that was flexing from the pressure to show you how it was working the correct muscle. You tried not to stare too long at the tanned skin, but you couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like in your hands.

You felt yourself get a little red.

Watching, Jungkook followed through with a couple of reps. Your eyes wandered up his arms as they began to show enlarged veins from the workout to the way the slight movement of his back-shoulder muscles underneath the white cotton. He was really pretty.

If it wasn’t for the clang that rug as he dropped the weights upon release you might have been still in a light trance. You watched as he got back up gripping the front of his shirt to air out. “Alright your turn.”

You sat back down at the machine. Placing the weight ring a bit higher up to lighten your original load. Correcting your hold, you began to do one rep, followed by another, and another. It did feel better and the twinge in your triceps weren’t uncomfortable like before. Now they just burned lightly – the type that came with building muscle.

Your grip on the bar was almost released as you felt a large hand land on the center of your back. Quick to regain a solid hold you twisted your neck to look back at Jungkook who just smiled at you and your questioning stare.

“You need to straighten your back more.”

That almost made laugh. Here he was telling you that you needed to sit straighter. Someone who has spent almost their entire life to become a body with perfect posture. But instead of commenting you pushed yourself to be more pin-like and began to repeat your arm motions. The warmth of his hand was lost a second later.

“See? That’s better right?”

You let go of the bar, allowing your arms to rest until you wanted to start the next set. “How do you know all this, are you a personal trainer or something?”

Jungkook laughed, shaking his head no. “Nah, I just like to work out. And believe it or not, us other dancers and junk-thrusters have to stay in shape too.”

You bit your lip, realizing that he definitely did not forget about your comments from outside the restaurant. “Ah, well, um, thank you,” you sounded unsure, almost embarrassed. “For showing me how to use the machine.”

Jungkook gave you a wide grin, one that you didn’t think you’d be on the receiving end of. He gave you a quick ‘no problem!’

Maybe you were bit quick to judge Jungkook. Jimin was clearly close friends with him and he was quick to help you figure out a better way to work your arms. Maybe, he was actually someone who—

“You have great legs by the way, Prima.”

--was still annoying as hell.

________________

You spent another hour at the gym, working your arms the way Jungkook showed you and then finished off on the treadmill so you maybe wouldn’t have to run in the morning and get to sleep in for another hour. A luxury.

Jungkook had retreated to his own corner of the gym, where there were many more loose weights available. You saw him joking around with a couple of the guys that were also there, making fun while also helping each other lift if one wanted too. You tried not to stare and focus on yourself – and so you wouldn’t be caught.

You took a long drag of your water bottle as you fished for your towel in your gym bag. It was around 9:30 and the gym closed earlier on Fridays, so you figured it was best to get going. Whipping down the perspiration you gathered during you’re run you reached for your phone to see if you received any messages. A text from Mina and a missed call from your mom. You’d text Mina on your way back to the dorm and call you mom in the morning.

“Hey bunhead, you done?”

The sudden intrusion made you jump slightly. Turning around you again faced Jungkook. His shirt was damper than when you saw him an hour ago, sticking to his front much more than before. Even his dark hair began to curl and stick to his tacky face, the result of a hard workout.

“Really? ‘Bunhead’ now?” You crossed your arms while looking at him as he used a towel to dab at his own face. “Have you never met another ballet dancer? We don’t necessarily appreciate the children names.” Jungkook froze for a second, head still in the towel making you unable to see his expression.

He reemerged a moment later, face now dry, and smirked at you. You tried to not think of how appealing the smile was. “Nah, I just get a kick over how you get so pissed over something that should only bother kids, Prima.” At this point all you could do is roll your eyes and continue to pack up, grabbing your bag and slinging it around your pointy shoulder.

“Well this kid, is going to go. Thanks for helping me at the weights.” You began to stroll off, heading towards the doors – excited to emerge into the cool night weather. Although your walk to your dorm was a good distance from the gym, it allowed you to collect your thoughts and mentally map you next day. A break from everything.

“Prima,” You turned around to see Jungkook jogging over with his own bag in hand. “Let me walk with you.” In more simple scenarios you might be flattered that a man, who could clearly handle his own, would want to walk with you. But this was the obnoxious hip-hop dancer that had a thing for stupid nicknames. So, you didn’t know if you were that lucky.

“You don’t even know which way I’m heading.” What if Jungkook was actually a serial killer you thought. What if he was trying to lead you towards your ultimate doom and leave your disfigured figure in the woods just off of campus? Pretty, wide, brown eyes or not – he could still be dangerous.

“Y/N, you’re just being stupid,” you told yourself.

“I figured you’re probably heading towards South Tower, that’s where most of you dancers live – close to the ballet studio.” Okay, maybe he was just observant. “I live in West, but I usually grab a slice of pizza at Mario’s before heading in.” Mario’s was this super small, school ran pizza place near your hall that was open super late to drag in those who crave a greasy, cheesy slice in the evening. Or hungry hip-hop dancers after a workout apparently. “You want to grab a slice with me?”

You could remember the last time you had pizza. It was three years ago at a small get together with ballerinas. Instead of indulging in the savory crust like most young adults would, the pizza was used as an awful dare. If you lost at whatever game, you were playing you would have to eat an entire slice. You lost. The memory of holding your hair up to throw it back up when you went home was still fresh in your mind.

Further you were shocked that Jungkook thought the two of you had a relationship to even invite you to do such. Though he did help you tonight, and you returned with gratitude, it still didn’t change the fact that you yelled at him in public and was rather rude to him too. Maybe as the youngest of his friend group, he was used to snarky comments to just not care. Innocent invite or not, there was no way you were going to eat pizza.

“I, um,” you tried to think of a good excuse. “I don’t really like—”

“Hey, it’s okay,” you looked at him as he gave you a rather gentle smile. “Just make sure you eat something when you get back to your dorm. Something with protein. Not eating after could actually make you lose all the effects of your workout from today. Doesn’t have to be a lot, just something.” Maybe you were thinking too much into it, but he sounded so gentle at the end of his statement.

“Ya, okay. I think I have something in my fridge.”

“Cool, let’s go.” He took off down the sidewalk. All you could do is watch his broad shoulder before walking after him.

________________

Jungkook had said goodbye as the two of you reached the door of Marios – the smell from outside was heavenly and tempted you dearly, but you already committed to rejecting the slice of mozzarella. Instead, you thanked him for walking you back and said goodnight. Leaving the boy to enjoy his pizza alone.

Your roommate, who you honestly never saw, was not in the dorm when you returned. But you liked it this way. You were able to enjoy some more silence and even not fret over taking up the bathroom for a long period of time.

Placing your gym bag in your room, you walked back out to the very small kitchenette to grab a glass of water. “Water, shower, bed,” you thought.

However, as you filled up your glass you turned towards the fridge. Although you knew you didn’t have anything in there of your own but baby-carrots, you could look. Opening the white door, you saw that it was fairly bare. Your baby-carrots were in there along with some dark chocolate your roommate like to eat cold and celery. You two were both dancers and so didn’t have a lot of time to shop for groceries. However, in the corner, in the back, you saw a small container reading ‘Plain Greek-Yogurt’ – it wasn’t yours.

Doesn’t have to be a lot, just something, Jungkook’s voice said in your mind.

You hesitated for a moment. Not because it wasn’t yours but because you were thinking of everything that might be in the personal container. How many calories? How much sugar? How much, how much, how much?

Just something.

Taking a deep breath, you grabbed it and closed the fridge. Grabbing a spoon from the nearby drawer you raced back to your room. Sitting on your bed you slowly opened the yogurt container.

Not wanting to second guess yourself you dumped the spoon in, quickly brought it back and placed it into your mouth. With no sweetener, the taste was slightly sour and gave you small goosebumps.

It was amazing.

...

Some people asked to be added to a taglist, but I honestly don’t know how to make one or if I’m doing this right. I’ve been on Tumblr a long time but really don’t know anything other than liking and reblogging, hahaha. So for now, until I learn how to make one, I’ll just @ them.

@mycurrentusernameisalreadytaken @mrcleanheichou @marvelatthemadness

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intrepidguardian · 5 years

Text

How Design Miscues are Failing Portrayals of Relationships in MTG

Discourse? Discourse.

Love is a difficult topic to discuss because it can encompass so many things that aren’t “love” - you know what I mean, the kind of stuff that would get a fanfic tagged as “fluff.” My wife’s and my third anniversary is coming up, and more and more I find myself still learning about what love is. I love the study, but I know that I could fill hundreds of external hard drives with epitaphs and musings about every interaction my wife and I have had, each exemplifying a different aspect of our love and still not get the point across of just how much I love her.

(Btw I love you Ash and thank you for helping me edit this)

So how could you get an idea as complex as love across in the 25 words you’re allowed on your average Magic card? More to the point, why bother portraying love in Magic: The Gathering?

"Players won’t care until they are cards.” - Matt Cavotta, Senior Art Director for Wizards of the Coast, discussing the motivation for implementing Planeswalkers as a card type.

A few years back, and I’m sorry that I can’t find the actual post, someone asked Mark Rosewater something to the effect of “Red is supposed to be the ‘emotional color,’ yet the only emotion we tend to see out of Red is anger. WTF?”

Mark responded that R&D was working towards showing different aspects of the emotional spectrum in Red, but was hampered by the fact that Magic: The Gathering is a game about fighting and it was difficult to portray anything other than MAD RED in a game about fighting.

“No, my battlefield only has room for more Goblin Chainwhirlers.” - Solid Snake, probably.

A little while later, they apparently cracked the love code and printed Cathartic Reunion in Kaladesh, which was meant to portray Chandra finally reuniting with her mother Pia Nalaar, when both thought that the other had died years ago.

Shoutout to all my Dredge opponents that keep beating me with four-card hands thanks to this card.

Like yeah, it’s a nice moment and a nice piece of art. It’s not romantic love, but it’s familial love. You can see the love between Chandra and Pia in their embrace, and I think this might be one of the first portrayals of a hug in Magic: The Gathering [someone prove me wrong]. When you only have 25 words to explain love, the art and flavor text can pick up the slack. But mechanically, what is this saying about maternal love, or love in general? Is love just more inherent deck consistency? Is drawing cards the greatest display of love in Magic: The Gathering? Artistically and flavorfully, this card is trying to say a lot. Mechanically, this card could have easily been called “Super Rummage” or “Elicit the Dredge” and no one would be able to tell the difference. This card is trying to show what love is, but without any sort of mechanical tie-in, Cathartic Reunion just tells you what love is.

Wow, my opponent loves me A WHOLE LOT!

I would say that the best way to explain love is to show love. And I think the best way to show love is to show people who love each other interact positively with one another. Like, love is hard to explain but is easy to see. When you see two people who love each other interact, you can just tell. Maybe it’s small physical gestures or communication purely through facial expressions, but when love is there, it’s obvious. Yes, the art of Cathartic Reunion clearly shows a tender love between Chandra and Pia, but both Chandra and Pia Nalaar were given cards in Kaladesh! Show us how they interact where we are most likely to see both of them: on the battlefield!

What are these cards doing for one another when both are on the battlefield? Not a lot. Chandra’s second +1 makes enough mana to use Pia’s first activated ability one additional time.

That’s cool, I guess.

Pia has a tag-along flying creature that can block for Chandra once, so Pia is essentially two blockers for a planeswalkers.

Yeah, but Whirler Rogue can make a bunch of Thopters to block for Chandra, so what does that mean? There’s no love between Chandra and some random Vedalken just because the three-drop blocks real good.

</3

There isn’t any mechanical unity here. Chandra doesn’t care about artifacts, and Pia doesn’t care about card advantage or incidental damage. They can do some things for each other, yes, but there isn’t anything for a deck builder to go “Hmm, how can I maximize this?” It’s the mechanical equivalent of Pia and Chandra getting Amazon gift cards for each other for their birthday - a display of love, but not a particularly meaningful one.

Well, here you go. -Chandra

But maybe this isn’t fair. Pia Nalaar’s card maybe wasn’t supposed to work well with Chandra, it was supposed to convey a sense of emptiness from missing Kiran, her husband who had actually been killed. They had been shown on their own card in Magic Origins, which is powerful enough that it hovers around Modern whenever Jund or Grixis are good. Pia’s card is cheaper, but comparatively weaker, and even when you look at the art, Pia Nalaar is significantly dimmer and emptier than the card Pia and Kiran Nalaar.

“What does Kiran bring to this relationship? DO THE MATH!” -My Grandmother-in-Law, maybe

Maybe before we can show a good example of familial love in card mechanics, we need to show people in love working together on the battlefield!

So let’s grab some examples. Three couples right now in Magic that people are really talking about are Jace x Vraska, Tomik x Ral Zarek, and Chandra x Nissa. If you wanted to show some cozy couples, what’s cozier than being in a deckbox with your significant other?

Jace x Vraska

Well, these cards could maybe work together? Not a lot of decks can make two blue mana on turn three and then turn around and make black and green mana on turn six.

Mana problems aside, they kind of work well together. Jace is looking for creatures to get through combat damage and Vraska makes difficult to block creature tokens thanks to Menace. However, there’s also a cost problem here, which is that Jace wants to come down turn three and Vraska, the muscle of this relationship with all the free blockers, doesn’t come down for another three turns, so Jace has to try and hide behind a Bird that goes away if you look at it too long while Vraska’s trying to get mana together. If you can find a way to get both on the battlefield in the same deck, maybe it works, but it’s a lot of work without a lot of payoff.

Okay, what about a more recent example? Chandra and Nissa both got new cards in War of the Spark and they’re supposed to be canon, so they probably have something going on between their two cards.

Chandra x Nissa

This is a pretty symbiotic relationship - Chandra finds extra cards to cast, and Nissa makes a lot of mana to cast those extra cards and creates blockers so the player has time to do so. It’s the RG formula we see in a lot of ramp decks in this color combination - Green makes the mana, red makes the otherwise-unwieldy payoffs. But much like Chandra’s mechanical relationship with Pia, this doesn’t feel special or unique. Yeah, Chandra finds extra cards, but she also comes into play before Nissa, so there’s a turn of vulnerability where Nissa might arrive too late to actually help Chandra. And anyone could do that “find extra cards” job. See, look:

It’s like the dating game, but for really, really sad people

They all can do the same “get extra cards” thing for the player the way Chandra can, and all benefit from the blockers and extra mana that Nissa produces.. Mechanically, there is some synergy between Chandra and Nissa, but there’s nothing that speaks to the relationship between the two characters - it feels more like a convenient coincidence that these two cards work together rather than two people who finally came together when it mattered most.

Maybe what we need is a mix-up - people represented on different card types could have more design space for synergistic effects.

Tomik x Ral

So the last pairing is Tomik x Ral. I don’t know if any of you have bought a “Planeswalker Deck,” but a big selling point to those cards for beginners is that there is usually a creature in the deck that benefits from having that deck’s planeswalker in play. They’re flavorful and fun to get out ahead when when you find your planeswalker, but they’ve never been really viable for tournament play. A planeswalker like Ral being in a relationship with a non-planeswalker seems like the perfect fit for creating a competitive-level combination of creature and planeswalker and could really highlight the relationship between Tomik and Ral.

Yeah, they didn’t even try with this one. Double white on turn 2 into Red and Blue on turn 4 is already a tall order, but these two cards have entirely separate goals. Tomik, a card designed for Legacy, really wants to hate on his opponents trying to manipulate their lands.

Ral doesn’t have the word “land” on his card, and is a card designed with card advantage and maybe some combos in mind.

They’re two totally different cards designed for two totally different decks. I get that. My point is that they shouldn’t be. Wizards clearly knows how to design “planeswalkers matter” creatures, had an opportunity to do so, and instead opted to design a Legacy card to hate out cards that don’t exist in Legacy anymore.

You barely even deserve this, WotC.

That last bit was a little dense. I get it, it’s hard to read without caring a lot about flavorful mechanics, but I am trying to get my point across that Wizards had so many opportunities to make cards that could work together and mechanically create a sense of a relationship between characters and repeatedly chose not to, instead prioritizing other design goals. If I’m coming on a little strongly, it is because I know Wizards knows how to do this. In fact, Wizards had the opposite problem to the Chandra x Nissa issue, waaaay back in Battle for Zendikar.

“...and the Lord of the Multiverse said to Gideon, “It is not good for a planeswalker to be alone,” and so the Lord created Nissa and brought her to Gideon who jubilantly exclaimed: ‘Voice of my voice! Planeswalker of my heart! I shall call you Nissa, Voice of Zendikar! Together we shall grow plants and make Ally offspring and they shall have dominion over the entire plane of Zendikar!’ And the Lord of the Multiverse saw that it was very good...” -A very tongue-in-cheek quote by Craig Wescoe discussing Nissa, Voice of Zendikar in the upcoming Oath of the Gatewatch set.

Do you see this? Do you get it?

These two cards were made for each other.

There are a lot of similarities between these cards, and because they’re similar, they work well together in a lot of ways, all of which scream “PLAY US IN THE SAME DECK.”

1. Both Planeswalkers make tokens without losing loyalty. 2. Both Planeswalkers have an ability that gets better with more tokens, and can boost each other’s tokens. 3. Nissa curves into Gideon and can help make a safe battlefield for him. 4. Nissa coming down late is still good for Gideon, and she can even boost him with a +1/+1 counter when he’s a creature. 5. Both Planeswalkers have the same naming convention: Planeswalker, Whatever of Zendikar. We’re battling for Zendikar, of course I want Zendikar’s Ally and Zendikar’s Voice!

“But wait!” somebody wanting to say something said. “Two green mana on Turn 3 could be tough, and needing two white mana on turn 4 is even tougher!”

Well, hold on there buckaroo, because have I got the love note in a Magic card for you:

We didn’t see it, but Gideon planeswalked to a high school on Theros and had a popular girl fold this card up into a little triangle before giving it to Nissa.

This card is the perfect mechanical tie-in for a Nissa x Gideon deck. Card selection has rarely ever been afforded to white decks, and GW token decks have often struggled with getting their mana right to cast their white payoff cards without making room for superfluous mana decks, and even then that might not fix it (just ask Richard Bland about his GW Tokens deck in the Worlds 2011 finals). And as a little bonus, this card can get either Nissa or Gideon or, you know, whatever creatures you wanted, and what color combination was going to have more efficient creatures AND planeswalkers than Green and White Mechanically, these cards work so well together and they look like they’re supposed to work together.

In fact, this was the core of an incredibly powerful GW Tokens deck that won Pro Tour Shadows over Innistrad in the hands of Steve Rubin.

And when I was younger and looking at this deck for the first time, I thought Wizards would leap at the opportunity to pair these two up. Two reasonably popular planeswalkers paired up together to save a plane and worked really well together when I sleeved them up together? For a time, I was locked in - I thought Nissa x Gideon was going to be canon, and the lead-up to Kaladesh was where we’d see a little fluff between the two, or at the very least some genuine bonding between the flagship planeswalkers of the two colors most-interested in community. Instead, we got this:

Nissa: You’re being a little extra for me.

Gideon: My bad lol.

I was a little salty about that interaction (mostly because it felt like every color combination in the Gatewatch has had a good or at least interesting interaction, except green and white), but I was down with Nissa x Chandra. It seemed like they had some chemistry in the story, and I was excited to see that chemistry reflected in the cards. Instead, we got a whole lot of nothing, which is infuriating because Wizards knows how to mechanically tie-in planeswalkers.

Okay Wizards, here’s your second fifth chance...

So why is all this important? Why go into this deep dive about card mechanics trying to convey something that is decidedly not a mechanic in Magic: the Gathering?

It’s because love can be expressed in this game’s mechanics, which is really hard in a game about fighting, but also a very unique opportunity. A card can care about what another card is doing, can subtly emulate what another card is doing or how it is presenting, and other cards can tie the two together. That kind of mechanical interlinking has a real-world analogue: a genuine, deep love for another person. Wizards has clearly struggled with the problem of portraying relationships in a way that its multiple player bases will care about and want to play with. The solution to that problem is creating powerful cards that mechanically care about one other and attributing those cards and mechanics to characters that emotionally care about each other in its stories.

Wizards, you clearly know how to do that, so...

#mtg #magic the gathering #mtgcommunity #mtg discourse #discourse

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le-lex · 6 years

Text

I love you in the morning when the blood runs to your cheeks

Fandom: Voltron: Legendary Defender Pairing: Keith/Lance Words: 15k

“Hey, do you want a croissant? Or a cookie? They’re really good! My ma makes them all. What are you into? Take anything, seriously, whatever you want!” Bakery Guy keeps waving him over at a faster pace the closer Keith gets and as Keith approaches the table he backs off from where he was hunched like a dragon over a pile of leftover pastries.

“Uh…” Keith has no idea what the fuck is going on right now and he knows that his eyebrows are furrowed in a way that always makes Shiro laugh, but he can’t help it. What is happening.

Bakery Guy shoots a ray of pure sunlight out of his face directly into Keith’s eyes with his smile and tries again, “We don’t always sell everything pastry and bread wise, so I try to hook up the other vendors with some treats before we take everything to the women’s shelter downtown. Do you want anything?”

In which Keith and Lance fall in love over a farmers market season the same way they do everything else: a little bit backward and a whole lot stupid.

AO3: (x)

Keith has to keep actively reminding himself to stop clenching his teeth so hard by opening his mouth and moving his jaw from side to side like an actual idiot. Each time he does it, he casts a quick glance to the booths on either side of him to make sure their occupants aren’t witnessing his stressed out dumbassery in real time. What the fuck is he doing here, truly.

He’s currently sitting in his stupid, slightly rickety camping chair a cool hour after initially getting to the market and unpacking all of his things. He’d been awake for hours before he psyched himself up enough to actually drive to the market and he’d sat in his gently rumbling truck for ten minutes in the parking lot before he crow barred himself out of the cab into the fresh morning air to set up his market table and tools.

Hunching a little in his work jacket to brace himself against the early morning breeze, he looks down at his set up and has to physically prevent himself from sighing melodramatically. The table cloth he’s using to cover his folding table is an old red plaid one of his dad’s that Shiro always brutally makes fun of whenever he sees it. His toolbox is propped up and open with everything he needs handy and his two grinders are set up at an appropriately reachable distance from his shitty, unbalanced chair.

Just to be clear, he’s nervous as fuck. And he doesn’t really want to be here.

It’s his first day at this farmers market, his first day at a farmers market in general truly and he has essentially…zero idea what to expect. Obviously, he’s been at a farmers market before in his life, he doesn’t live under a fucking rock, but he’s never had his own booth at one and he thinks it may just be easier to climb back into his truck and fuck off into the sunrise and abandon this idea in its final hour.

But as he’s thinking this and as his hands are twitching to toss all of his utensils into his toolbox and haul ass out of here, he catches Shiro’s smile and wave from across the circular rotunda type structure the market is housed in and resolves himself to a morning of what is likely to be socially motivated torture. He’s not able to make a timely and quick escape if Shiro has already seen him, unfortunately.

Keith begrudgingly waves back to him and watches as Shiro hefts a pallet of cucumbers out of the farm truck he’s currently unpacking.

Shiro is dressed like every middle-aged white mother’s wet dream, wearing a flannel rolled up past his elbows over a t-shirt with his aunt’s farm’s logo on it and dark jeans tucked into his scuffed-up work boots. He’s such a beautiful, buff motherfucker that it makes Keith’s eyes roll into the back of his head, because honestly, who even looks like that. Who looks like that and works at a farmers market and hauls vegetables out of the bed of a truck with such a look of tranquility and contentment that it makes all the waiting regulars sigh a little watching him. Shiro, that’s fucking who, he supposes.

He catches the eye of Shiro’s tiny little aunt standing behind her table and setting up literal pyramids of vegetables and gives her a small smile as she waves across to him.

Shiro helps his elderly aunt out with her vegetable farm during the on season because he just truly is that good of a person. Thinking about it makes Keith a little ill.

Ignoring the sweatiness of his palms, he leans back in his chair and glances up at the sign that’s swinging lazily in the breeze where it’s attached to the front of his tent. It makes him laugh a little every time he sees it, even though it’s nicely made. That’s what patronage at the town UPS Store will get you. A quality sign with your bullshit name on it. It mostly makes him laugh because the name he decided on for his market booth is “Keith’s Knife Hut” solely because it causes Shiro to make a face that’s split between disbelief and actual pain every time he looks at it. Motivation, y’all.

Despite the growing dread over being present in this current situation, the knowledge that Shiro is going to be in his line of sight for most of the day and that he’ll likely wander over later is comforting enough.

The market hasn’t officially opened yet which Keith is grateful as fuck for, but early regulars mill about and later arrivals to the market are efficiently setting up their booths just in time for the sunrise.

He has his pricing spiel all planned out in his head and he turns it around and around in his mind as he sits there. He’s said it enough times to his commercial clients that he isn’t particularly worried, but this is a whole different setting than the back of a restaurant kitchen where he usually works and that’s enough to make him stumble over his words. Five dollars per knife, seven dollars for anything else. Including multitools, yard tools, and lawn mower blades.

Forcibly unclenching his teeth yet again, he chants his prices in his head and triumphantly thinks that even if he can’t always connect to the customers he has, he can sharpen anything. Let’s go, middle upper-class patrons of this bougie farmers market, give me your bladed tools to sharpen.

With a glance to his phone showing that it’s officially seven am and a final straighten of his sandpaper loops, he shoots a pleading request to whatever deity may be out there for today to go well and thinks, here goes nothing.

Three hours later and Keith is able to actually sit back in his chair and finally glance around the rest of the market.

It’s been…a day, surely. And it hadn’t gone as bad as Keith had been expecting, which is generally the way things play out. Being at the market was surprisingly fun and after the first few clipped conversations with inquiring customers where he had no idea what the tempo of the interactions was supposed to be, he was able to fluently and efficiently roll out his pricing bullshit for the next, like, fifteen people who stopped at his booth to chat.

Granted, he didn’t really sharpen anything aside from a few pocket knives and a multitool here and there, but mostly because people don’t carry around full sets of kitchen knives on them without a valid reason. A valid reason being…well, getting your kitchen knives sharpened.

He’d given his business card out to a lot of interested people and he figures that that’ll be enough to get him some real business when he’s back the following Tuesday. Just the thought has him feeling a little bit cheerful.

Truthfully, he really likes doing this in a way he doesn’t like doing a lot of things. Working with his hands and fixing something and making it more efficient and useful in a very tangible way. It feels purposeful, gives him a very clear outcome with just a little bit of action.

Plus, it’s not like sharpening knives is hard, if he’s going to be totally honest. Anyone could do it with the right equipment and knowledge, but, he supposes, that most people don’t really want to.

With his extensive background in tools and knives, he was able to cultivate a pretty solid customer base in the form of restaurants and specialty food stores when he first started, and he keeps up with a lot of those regulars on a pretty consistent basis. He can, however grudgingly, admit that Shiro was definitely right in the farmers market being a good side gig on the weekends and a few days during the week.

It’s not like he’s going to tell Shiro that. A thanks for the connection to the market manager for the booth space might be in order, though.

Keith struggles a little bit when shrugging out of his jacket and knocks a few of his own tools off his table before he’s able to really look around.

The way the market is set up is kind of odd, in his own humble architectural opinion. Which means absolutely fuck all nothing, but still. It’s a giant concentric circle with a lot of open space in the middle where the plant people congregate and sell giant potted flowers. All of the booths are set up inside the circular roofing at the outer edge of the biggest circle, so you can enter the market and walk all the way around in one direction until you end up right back where you started. He guesses it’s a pretty good business model, a trap that doesn’t really feel like one when you’re looking at artisanal cheeses and bird houses made out of refurbished cabinets or whatever the hell people sell here.

His booth is right next to the entrance, so he’s one of the first stalls that market patrons see upon arrival. Beside him to the left is another vegetable stand with a kindly middle-aged woman who runs it and across the way from him is a weird sounding combination goat cheese and mushroom stall that he doesn’t really understand at first inspection.

There’s a bakery next to that, and a honey and bee paraphernalia stall down the way a little bit the opposite way.

He could, potentially, make attempts to talk to these people, but also, he could literally do anything aside from that. For a bit this morning, he made polite small talk with the other vegetable woman before he began to feel like he was betraying Auntie Shirogane’s farm by fraternizing with the enemy. She was nice though, and she gave him a bag of snap peas that he has absolutely no idea what to do with, so he supposes that they can be market friends.

That was a big component of the market that Shiro had ranted on and on about when he was convincing Keith to “join the market family.” That right there was enough to make Keith think that it sounded a bit like a cult, but Shiro had adamantly championed that the younger market workers were “good friends” who “looked out for each other” and “gave each other a lot of free shit.”

When Keith had pointed out that he doesn’t really have a lot of free shit to give aside from free knife sharpenings and what millennial is going to want that, Shiro had cheerily told him to piss off and to submit his application for a market booth as soon as possible.

Which Keith did. Thus, explaining why he’s here.

But whatever.

He’s startled out of his thoughts by a lidded coffee cup being briskly set on his plaid tablecloth and sends a pair of pliers toppling to the floor with his full body flinch.

“What in the ever-loving fuck,” Keith hisses up at a very amused looking Shiro as he dips under his folding table for the rogue pliers.

“I brought you coffee. Stop swearing in this wholesome, family environment.”

“You literally told me when I got here that I had to try “the dope ass baklava” from that stall next to yours, so I don’t have to take orders from the likes of you.” He takes the coffee though, he’s not a dumbass.

Shiro’s eyes crinkle up in a smile that Keith knows is his I’m Proud of Keith for Doing Something That Really Wasn’t That Hard Smile, which only serves to make him grumble under his breath and adamantly avoid Shiro’s gaze.

“So, how’s it going so far?”

Keith actively evades his meaningful eye contact by staring at the bakery stall across from him and a little to the right, where two tall, vaguely attractive people flutter around behind the table and slide pastries and bread into little plastic bags. “It’s going. I’ve talked to a lot of people who seemed interested and wanted to know if I’d be here on Tuesday.”

One of the tall, fluttery people behind the bakery table is flapping his hands around as he talks to the customer he’s serving, his grin split wide across his face and so bright that it actually makes Keith squint a little.

“That’s awesome. I’m really glad to hear it. Auntie was worried about you earlier, she said you were scowling and that it mars your handsome face.”

Shiro is…definitely still talking, but all Keith can focus on is the frenetic movement of the bakery boy’s long fingered hands. He’s talking so fast that Keith can’t even make out any of the words from his spot about twenty feet away. He smiles wide again as the customer leaves, and Keith quite literally feels like he’s staring into the sun. What the fuck.

He cuts a quick glance back at Shiro, who is now involved in a conversation with the Other Vegetable Woman and makes a noncommittal noise that he knows Shiro will deem as an appropriate response simply from long term Keith exposure.

Keith picks up his pretentious farmers market coffee to take an experimental sip and his gaze slides back over to the butterfly-handed boy, who chooses that exact split second to raise his own face up to meet Keith’s eyes.

It takes a few seconds for Keith’s heart to restart after being caught staring across the market at this deadass stranger who is now looking back at him, and when it does, it’s basically a lost cause anyway.

Bakery boy meets his eyes and smiles that stupid solar powered smile back at Keith, lifting up his hand to waggle his stupid long fingers at him in a quick, little wave.

Keith forcibly resists the urge to look around to see if that wave is for him and clenches his teeth to stop from audibly groaning in socially fueled distress, he lifts up his coffee cup in an odd kind of salute before resolutely looking absolutely anywhere but the bakery stall.

Shiro is still talking about vegetable shelf life or something dumb like that when Keith returns to both Earth and the conversation they’re having. It’s like the sound of the market immediately floods back into his awareness and he has to ball up one of his hands against his thigh to reign himself back in.

What in the fuck.

For the next hour, Keith looks only straight ahead at inquiring customers, down at his table, or to the left of the circle.

This avoidance tactic only works for so long. Keith makes eye contact with the tall bakery boy across from his stall three more times before the afternoon comes to a lazy close. His heart essentially stops each time, usually because said bakery boy is looking back whenever Keith glances over at him.

He’s able to catch glimpses of the boy across the way a few times without making any reciprocal eye contact. He’s tall and lithe in a way that is annoying to Keith simply due to his own more compact build. What can Keith say, he’s got a low center of gravity.

Details of said boy, or more likely said man, are not able to be gleaned from his position at his own booth, but Keith can tell that he’s fairly good looking even from far away. Tall and dark skinned and in a constant state of motion. He’s also wearing fucking overalls. Not coveralls like Shiro sometimes wears out in the fields when it gets cold in the later part of the season, but actual jean overalls over a bright yellow tie-dye shirt with what Keith assumes is his bakery’s logo.

It’s all he’s able to take note of when he’s constantly glancing there and back under absolute duress.

The last time it happened, Keith had to physically clamp his own mouth shut to prevent any untoward exclamations because Tall Bakery Man smiled so widely at him that his eyes were practically closed. It was most enchanting thing Keith had ever seen. It can absolutely not happen again or it will put Keith straight into his grave.

At around one o’clock, Keith starts to pack up all of his shit. He sharpened around six pocket knives and a few multitools and has given out about thirty of his Keith’s Knife Hut business cards. He feels good. Satisfied in a way that he usually doesn’t after social interaction.

He figures that because he’s talking about something he’s more or less dedicated his life to is why it’s easier to talk to strangers about it. Hyper focusing is something that tends to happen to him and he’s got a lot of material in terms of talking about and around kitchen knives and gardening tools. It’s comfortable and comforting all at once, which is a very novel feeling after being exposed to upwards of hundreds of people for six hours.

Just as he’s finished taking the sandpaper loops off his grinders, he glances up to possibly catch Shiro’s eye to wave goodbye to him when he spots Bakery Boy behind his own table. He’s relatively still and not actually doing anything aside from smiling but it makes Keith’s breath stop. How the hell did this happen? Why is Keith acting this way in the face of one singular person looking at him a few times throughout the day? The guy is wearing overalls, for fuck’s sake.

From across the way, the bakery worker smiles even bigger and gives him another jaunty finger wiggle. Only this time, he gives Keith a thumbs up with one hand and winks at the same time. It’s charming in an annoyingly effortless way and it forces a truly pained noise through Keith’s teeth and has him aggressively tossing the few tools he has left into his toolbox. He has got to get the fuck out of here.

He packs up his table and tool box and grinders as quick as possible without spilling all of his shit all over the cement floor of the market. His truck rumbles to life after a few rushed attempts to jam his keys into the ignition, mostly because he’s still flustered as fuck.

Trying to take a step back from the experience and the staccato beating of his own heart, he carefully considers how his first attempt at being a farmers market vendor went. It was a good first day, in all honesty. He’s happy to be here. He may even like it here.

But Keith isn’t going to think about this interaction with the Tall Bakery Man ever again. He’s going to Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind this shit. He’s all good.

It’s fine.

He thinks about almost nothing but that five second interaction all weekend. It’s not fine.

It continues on in this way for the next few weeks. Keith’s business kicks up now that people know that he’s at the market and he finds himself sharpening upwards of 25-30 kitchen knives a day along with his usual pocket knives. He also sometimes gets scissors, a few handheld axes, and once a comically large pair of hedge shears.

Honestly, Keith would be lying if he said it wasn’t fun. It’s a good, friendly atmosphere and being out in the open air for most of the day a few times a week is probably good for him. He’s met the market manager, Coran, a few times now and quietly chats with the Vegetable Lady next to him most days. She’s still hooking him up with peas.

Coran is fascinating because he rules the market with an iron fist and a slightly unhinged sense of responsibility. His bright orange t-shirt says “Market Master” on the back and he spends a lot of his time chasing after dog owners who bring their pets under the covered portion of the market despite the copious signage stating otherwise.

It’s nice, even if he has to see Coran’s white ass thighs at seven am three days a week because the motherfucker refuses to wear anything aside from jean cutoffs and ridiculous white dad tennis shoes.

Shiro floats by most days and brings him coffee and makes small talk about the TV shows they’re both watching and Keith makes a few tentative attempts to talk to one of the goat cheese mushroom women about their stall and their goats, which don’t go totally horrible.

He likes it here, he supposes, at this slightly pretentious outdoor farmers market. Plus, he’s making a good chunk of cash on top of his commercial clients, so he’s absolutely not complaining.

Okay, well…actually, he’s complaining a little bit. Mostly just about the Bakery Boy and the weird eye contact impasse that they’ve cultivated from across the aisleway of their part of the market.

Tall Bakery Man has not let up in terms of his cheeky little waves and plentiful amounts of winking and Keith is pretty sure it’s made his blood pressure rise to dangerous levels.

He’s worried that it’s going to make him pass out one of these days.

But, it’s fine. It’s totally cool. It feels like camaraderie without speaking and that’s one of Keith’s sweet spots. They just smile and wave at each other a lot. Sometimes, when they both first get to the market to set up, the Bakery Man will send him a thumbs up as a sort of little check in and Keith will return it without hesitation.

It’s noncommittal and sweet and it makes Keith want to bang his head against the brick pillar his stall is next to until he falls unconscious amidst the market patrons because he’s a little attached to it now. To the interactions and to the knowledge that Tall Bakery Man will probably already be looking at him if Keith looks over that way throughout the day.

He wears those overalls a lot, Bakery Guy does. Keith doesn’t really see him out behind the tables that his bread and pastries are on, but he’s caught him walking to other vendors’ stalls and lingering at the mushroom goat cheese combo stall a few times.

When he does that, Keith looks resolutely at his feet as he weaves between patrons and tables and absolutely nowhere else, to appear like the exact opposite of the kind of weird creeper that he might be. The shoes Bakery Guy wears are usually some dumb kitschy patterned plimsoll shoes with no socks, his overalls cuffed up past his ankles. Last week they had little sunbathers on them, this week they’re covered in little Dachshunds and hot dogs. It makes Keith want to scream.

He feels like some fucking Victorian woman in ye olden times, in love with this boy’s ankles and getting light headed over it like it’s some big scandal. He’s legitimately stupid.

But yeah, it’s going well.

To say that the rest of the market noticed the Knife Guy on his first day would be an understatement.

They absolutely noticed. They all talked about it incessantly after Coran had mentioned a new vendor would be there the Thursday of the week previous.

Shiro had offhandedly mentioned that he was a friend of his and that he was a little quiet, but that they would all like him. Hunk and Lance had made meaningful eye contact and left it at that. Shiro liked everyone, so that didn’t mean shit. They weren’t going to accept a weird interloper into their fold without appropriate information.

But now, oh but now. Knife Guy is leaned back in a folding chair with one leg crossed and one heavy boot resting on his knee, looking for all the world like he doesn’t give a damn about anything.

Lance silently berates himself for being totally into that as he unloads his pastries from the van and heaves them into a tall stack just behind their stall.

Allura has already started setting up their tables and getting their cash register and display stands ready. He catches her eye and smiles at her a little as he heads back for yet another round of unloading. Even though they’re both morning people, they’ve been awake for a few hours already and aren’t fully into speaking territory yet.

Coran and Shiro both failed to mention that the new guy sharpens knives. Because that is some pertinent info. Who the hell sharpens knives at a farmers market?

As Lance thinks it around in circles, he guesses it makes some kind of sense. He’s just never seen it before and he’s worked at markets in the surrounding area for years. Someone who actually knows what they’re doing and has the tools to make your shit sharp, sure. It’s still weird though.

Plus, the dude looks intense. Long dark hair and heavy eyebrows combined with knives and all that plaid? He’s cultivating a very specific look. And now okay, Lance didn’t say it was a bad look, but it’s a look nonetheless. It’s going to scare the shit out of all the old women.

It takes a bit of time for he and Allura to get all of their shit set up, but they manage to before the market opens which in itself is a win for them. They always have bullshit old people regulars who show up at like 6:55 and demand their favorite loaves of bread before the market has even really opened. Lance rants on and on about entitlement and appreciating market hours to both Allura and his ma frequently, but they just roll their eyes and tell him to help the elderly out.

Whatever. It’s fine. He’s fine. He goes about his market day.

He just can’t stop glancing over at the Knife Guy.

From where their stall is situated, he can’t really see the sign that hangs from Knife Guy’s tent to tell what his stall is called. Even if he pitches over to one side like a dumbass, the brick pillar that his tent is pressed up against blocks it.

He’s cute, though. Real cute. And now that Lance has been watching him for a hot minute, he can see that Knife Guy looks a little bit nervous. He’s staring straight off into space and keeps rubbing his thumb against his pointer finger in a kind of repetitious, comforting sort of way.

Lance should probably go over and say hi, right? It’s been a few hours since they all got here. That’s what normal people would do. Miss Kelly from the vegetable stand next to Knife Guy’s has already talked to him a little earlier. It’s probably weird and hard to start at a market a few weeks into the season and not know anyone aside from fucken Shiro.

And speak of the devil. Lance glances up from putting raspberry danishes into a pleasing arrangement after they sold about half of them earlier to see Shiro slinking across the middle of the market where the plant people are to cut across the aisle way and sidle right up to Knife Guy’s table.

He smacks a coffee cup down against the cheesy plaid tablecloth and Knife Guy, on god, literally flails all of his limbs. Shit falls on the ground and he glares up at Shiro, and Lance…has the good sense to feel a little winded by that glare. It’s not even aimed at him. This dude is good looking, what the fuck.

Lance is still shuffling pastries and cookies around to appeal the most to market patrons, that shit is his life blood and what he’s best at, when he looks back up to see Shiro and Knife Guy chatting a little. He takes a break from organizing raisin croissants and just watches the easy way they both interact with each other.

They’re definitely friends. Of course Shiro would have good looking friends. They’re both wearing plaid too, must be some sort of good-looking dude wavelength they’re both on. Lance only looks good in very certain colors of plaid and he likes wearing his overalls to avoid dressing himself at four am in the dark and getting to the market looking like an actual dumbass. Plus, yellow tie-dye is kind of hard to accessorize. He’ll stick with his denim and zip up hoodies, thank you very much.

He keeps watching them and notices the specific moment where Knife Guy zones out again and then they’re making eye contact. It takes a little bit for Knife Guy to even realize they’re looking at one another and by then Lance is already waving at him a little bit and smiling what he can totally feel is a huge, dorky smile.

Knife Guy…straight up turns pink. Blushes so bright that Lance can see it from across the way. It’s the cutest fucking thing. He can feel warmth curling in his stomach and he laughs a little as Knife Guy is startled into giving him a salute with his coffee cup.

It should look stupid. It doesn’t.

Knife Guy is now resolutely looking anywhere aside from Lance, which makes the warmth in his stomach rock back and forth like he’s on a boat out at sea. He keeps pushing his hands into his dark hair and messing it all up and it serves to makes Lance smile softly down at his pastries.

He should probably leave well enough alone and not embarrass the guy from across the aisle. He should probably go over there and actually speak to him. Introduce himself and Hunk and maybe Pidge and ask him what his name is, find out why in the hell he sharpens knives. How he knows Shiro and where he’s from and what he likes to do in his spare time. Maybe find out what his favorite pastry is.

He should probably do a lot of things.

And yet, he spends the rest of the day sweetly waving at Knife Guy and making his entire face turn red each time. Because this is who he is, not being able to leave well enough alone. He winks at him once right before he leaves and he’s pretty sure Knife Guy chokes as he lurches towards his weird pickup truck and tosses all of his supplies in.

Lance is absolutely not going to let this go.

It continues on in this way for the next few weeks. Lance mans his ma’s farmers market stall. He interacts with his regulars and gives them good deals because they’re nice to him. He chats with Hunk and Pidge and Coran. He makes Knife Guy blush.

They still haven’t spoken, but it’s become a thing. A capital T thing. Lance’s favorite kind of Thing.

It becomes a routine. A few times a day Lance will glance over to Knife Guy’s stall and smile at him, especially big if Knife Guy is already looking. He peppers these ten second interactions with a few thumbs ups, maybe a wink here or a finger guns there. Knife Guy never stops blushing. Lance might be a little bit in love with some random dude in a brown Carhartt jacket that he’s never spoken to.

It’s chill.

He and Hunk make a whole lot of jokes about the Murder Pickup Truck. Knife Guy drives a beat up cream and brown pickup that makes horrible noises when he starts it up and has a lot of weird shit in the back. Hunk is absolutely convinced that he’s a serial killer from the pickup alone, so the working with sharp bladed objects really doesn’t help.

It makes Lance laugh because he’s pretty sure Knife Guy is just a normal dude and once he and Hunk actually speak to him, it’ll be chill. But their jokes give him a hell of an excuse to look at Knife Guy a lot. Not that he wouldn’t anyway, but still.

Over the last few weeks, Lance has subtly watched Knife Guy get more comfortable at the market. Not a lot of people talk to him, usually just Shiro and Miss Kelly and occasionally Coran. But the difference in the way he holds himself in his folding chair a few weeks in compared to his first day is noticeable. It’s sweet, almost. He has a few regulars who bring him their knives and their tools and seems to be able to connect with them a lot more. Lance doesn’t even know him, but he’s proud of him anyway.

Lance had been watching covertly from behind a pyramid of their French bread when Knife Guy had made his first customer laugh. It was revelatory. Knife Guy had seemed surprised but then so, so pleased, smiling shyly from where he sat, and it had made that stirring warmth in Lance’s stomach spread out and fill his entire body.

He might be in trouble. He doesn’t really mind.

Talking to Knife Guy soon might be in the cards, though.

Hunk leans against the outside of the table that all of their bread is piled on and gestures vaguely towards the Knife Guy with the leftover half of his croissant, “I don’t know, man…I just think he’s weird. He puts off a vibe. A very specific vibe. Vibe with a capital V. And also, he may be an actual murderer? Who sharpens knives as a job?”

Reaching over the cash register to pick up fifty cents in change that the woman with the Can I Speak to the Manager Haircut didn’t deem appropriate enough to put in his hand instead of on the table, Lance considers this.

“Hm, okay, duly noted. But his hair is actually pretty nice?” With a cursory glance to be sure that Knife Guy’s head is ducked down focusing on whatever it is that he’s sharpening, Lance takes thorough note of his thick head of dark hair that he’s been appreciating three days every week for the last few weeks.

“It looks even better when it’s pulled back though, he’s done that a few times since he’s started.” Lance decides on after careful deliberation, turning his body back towards Hunk just in time to catch his mouth drop open.

“I- what, we were literally just talking about how he might be a serial killer? Not talking about how nice his hair looks! Do you care at all for our potential safety?”

“Hunk, please, you know I don’t want you to get mur-“ before Lance can even finish, Hunk is straightening up and frantically slapping Lance’s arm, motioning back toward Knife Guy’s stall.

“Look! He’s sharpening an axe right now! Is that not the perfect weapon for horror movie style decapitation?”

“Okay, valid, but it’s not his axe…I saw Mrs. Fitzsimmons drop it off at his stall when she got to the market.” Lance clearly had been keeping a very close eye on his neighbor across the way. So what? Sue him.

Hunk makes a noise of pure disbelief and finishes off his croissant before wandering back to his moms’ stall.

Even though Hunk isn’t looking his way anymore, Lance shrugs. Knife Guy is cute and gets very obviously worked up when Lance winks at him. Plus, he’s got a soft spot for guys in work jackets and plaid, what can he say?

It all comes to a head about a month after Keith first started at the market. Things have been going surprisingly well. He likes being at the market and likes the few friends he’s made. It’s something to look forward to every few days because it’s easy and chill and non-committal.

Shiro is very smug about it. Keith ignores the stupid faces he makes.

It’s a Thursday market day, so there weren’t as many people as there is on Saturdays, but Keith still did pretty well. He had a lot of bigger things to sharpen today, a few lawn mower blades and an actual deadass scythe that a tiny old woman brought him earlier.

It’s about one, so he’s packing up all of his stuff and looking forward to going home and melting into his couch and watching whatever show Adam and Shiro deem good enough to put on when they come over later.

As he’s tucking his finer grade sandpaper loop into his toolbox, he’s startled by what sounds like someone hissing. He whips around only to see Bakery Guy hunched over his front table and beckoning him over. He’s wearing an actually giant sun hat with his usual overall ensemble.

Keith wants to hate it. He, yet again, doesn’t.

“Psssst, Knife Guy, over here!” Bakery Guy makes pointed eye contact with him and waves him over in a flurry of hands.

Keith looks around to either side of him, but Vegetable Lady is gone and the soap booth on the other side of the entrance is just about packed up.

He glances back and makes eye contact with Bakery Guy, pointing at himself with what he knows is a stupid, bewildered look on his face.

Bakery Guy rolls his eyes with practically his whole body and points directly at him, “Uh, yes you, you’re the only knife guy around. Get over here.”

His voice is really nice, musical and fun. It wasn’t what Keith was expecting but absolutely should have been. This is the first time he’s heard it and absolutely the first time it’s been directed anywhere near him. He snaps his toolbox shut and edges around his table to make his way across the aisle.

“What’s…up?” Jesus Christ, is Keith an actual dumbass?

“Uh…” Keith has no idea what the fuck is going on right now and he knows that his eyebrows are furrowed in a way that always makes Shiro laugh, but he can’t help it. What is happening.

Oh, okay. Yeah, Keith wants something. He’s been inadvertently staring at all of this stuff for the last month.

“Yes, please.” Has he never spoken to another human being in his entire life? Clearly not.

“Oh sweet, awesome. Cool cool cool. Take whatever! Do you like really sweet things? You don’t really seem like you do, but obviously that’s a totally unfounded assumption, so some of the less sweet stuff would be our pain au raisin, maybe a muffin, or a cream cheese danish!” Bakery Guy’s eyes are so fucking blue up close that Keith is pretty sure he’s going to close his own eyes tonight and see this color reflected on his eyelids when he goes to sleep.

“Um, a cream cheese danish…sounds good?”

Before he’s even finished, Bakery Guy is darting forward and closing Keith’s hands around an already plastic packaged danish. His hands are soft as fuck and Keith is going to drop dead.

“I’ll keep that in mind! I almost always try and go around before everybody leaves, but I don’t always get to it. Plus, you seem to leave pretty early and I’ve never been able to catch you before you’ve packed up.” The look Bakery Guy sends him makes his heart stop, because it’s sweet and a little flirty and an admission that he’s been watching Keith. Admitted like a secret that they both share.

His eyes scrunch up when he smiles, and Keith is composing sonnets in his head as he stares at this freckled son of bitch who’s wearing the biggest sun hat that Keith has literally ever seen. How is this his life?

“Well, thank you? I, uh, really appreciate a good danish. Also, what’s your name?” Keith has to struggle to get the words out of his mouth because he and this guy are still making really intense eye contact and his big ass hands are still curled around Keith’s, the danish sandwiched in the middle in a weird cradle.

Bakery Guy smiles even bigger and Keith literally has to shut his eyes in the face of that solar power.

“Oh shit, I totally forgot we’ve never been introduced! The name’s Lance! And you are?”

Does he have a name? Is he anything but an entity-less soul bouncing around in the ether? What the hell is going on here? Why are they still holding hands?

“Keith.” It’s literally the only thing he can say. At least he remembered his own name.

Lance is opening his mouth to start speaking again when someone reappears back beneath the tent of their stall.

“Are you done packing up yet?” comes from the other tall beautiful person that Keith has seen behind the table of the bakery stall. She’s tall and posh-sounding and also probably the third most good-looking person Keith has ever had the misfortune of standing next to, behind both Shiro and Lance.

She touches Lance on his shoulder lightly as she says it and in a way that suggests familiarity before she turns around to do something or other with the plastic wrapped brownies.

Lance and Keith both jump, and their hands immediately fall to their sides. Keith has to flex both of his hands to rid the sensation of Lance cradling them from his skin.

Great. Back on his Mr. Darcy bullshit. He has got to protest harder when Adam and Shiro binge watch period dramas.

Keith’s jams his hands into his pockets and Lance’s fall to rest on the assorted jumble of pastries.

“Almost done, ‘Lura.” He sends a little smile back her way and it’s so sweet and small that Keith can hear his own heartbeat echoing in his head.

Well, fuck. Maybe this incredibly good-looking tall person is dating the other incredibly good-looking tall person in front of him?

The thought almost strikes him dead. He knows next to nothing about Lance or this other ethereal person whose platinum hair seems to be reflecting the sunlight and fucking blinding him. What if they’re dating, oh god, or worse, what if they’re married? And Keith has been pining away uselessly from his Knife Hut for the last month over a married man?

Jesus H. Christ. They probably have kids. Beautiful brown children running around that are adorable and perfect in every way. They probably own the bakery together. Hell, and here Keith was mentally preparing to be a homewrecker.

Holy shit, death is the only option here. He may be getting ahead of himself, but the ball is already rolling and there’s no going back.

They’re all just kind of standing there looking at each other and the Kill Bill sirens are sounding in Keith’s head, but he doesn’t move to do anything.

Thankfully, Lance smiles his way again and snags another danish from his pile, handing it to Keith delicately.

“Here’s another for the road. I’ll see you on Saturday, yeah?”

All Keith can do is nod like a fucking bobble head and return the little wave Lance gives him before he about faces. As he’s hopping into his truck, he glances in his rear-view mirror to see the two bakery workers packing up all their things and laughing together. Probably talking about something cute that their two-year-old did last night. Dear lord.

Yep, the only solution here is death.

Friday night, Lance is so keyed up to get to the market that he’s practically vibrating. He succeeded in actually speaking to Knife Guy on Thursday, who he now knows is named Keith. Which is cute. Kind of dweeby and not entirely fitting, but still cute.

He also now knows that Keith is a little socially awkward but not in an unbearable way. In a way that Lance knows how to navigate, usually by asking specific questions and kind of talking a lot like he does anyway.

So, moral of the story, he’s hype to get back to the market to maybe actually talk to Keith a little bit more rather than just making fucking googly eyes at each other from across the aisle like they’ve been doing for the last four weeks.

But when Saturday morning arrives, he’s forgotten that Allura took the day off and is dismayed to realize that he’ll be running the entire stall by himself.

Packaging everything, packing everything into the van, unpacking everything, and then dealing with the weird old dudes and condescending soccer moms all day. By himself. He’s sufficiently less hype by the time he actually gets to the market at quarter to six.

Keith is in his Knife Hut, which makes Lance laugh a little every time he thinks about it, already unpacked and set up for the day. He’s fucking around with something on his phone and rubbing a chunk of his long hair between his thumb and pointer finger.

Lance kind of desperately wants to run his fingers through that hair. But first, he has to get through the day. Then he has to actually talk to Keith again. Then they have to fall in love. There’s a process to these things, you see.

And with that, he begins the arduous exercise of unpacking the van. Usually it’s not that big of a struggle, they’ve got about fifteen plastic pallets with all of their product in with weird little handles that he’s able to stack behind their tables but it’s a lot more work without Allura here to toss things around with her stupid buff arms.

He’s going to be late setting up, which flusters him, because then all the fucking early ass old people will bitch about how he’s not set up, which will prevent him even farther from being set up. Endless cycle of not being set up until like an hour in when he’s all good.

The days that Allura’s gone are the worst, but his ma is right to give her them off. She deserves a break once in a while. She’s a great general manager and helps out a whole lot when she doesn’t even really have to, so Lance doesn’t begrudge her her days off.

He might die today though.

Hefting huge trays of bread and pastries out of the van is kind of a bitch and he’s hyper focused on doing it as fast as he can without hurting himself, which is why he’s truly startled when someone clears their throat behind him.

It’s Knife Guy. Er, Keith. And he’s standing there in his brown work jacket layered over a maroon and gold plaid flannel that really brings out the grey of his eyes. He looks kind of...off balance and Lance sort of wants to kiss his face a little.

“Do you, uh, need some help?” Lance has been pleasantly surprised when he hears the raspy quality to Keith’s voice all like, four times he’s heard Keith speak.

Lance casts a quick look toward the empty Knife Hut, but nobody is really around yet and it’s safe to assume that Keith had been watching him flap around frantically for the last thirty minutes.

“If you’re offering? Absolutely.”

He gives Keith a few pointers on the easiest way to maneuver the unwieldy bakery trays and they make quick work of stacking them all up behind the tables. When he tosses the table cloths to Keith, they make even quicker work spreading them over the tables, making beautifully uncomfortable eye contact, so Lance can start placing all of the stuff he has today out.

They work in silence for a while, Keith handing him things and Lance setting them all up in the specific way he likes. After he gets everything set up, he’ll have to put all the little labels and signs out, but he’s feeling way better now that everything is at least out of the van. Thank god for Keith.

“So, uh...where’s your wife?”

When Lance glances over at him to see if it was really, truly Lance he was speaking to, Keith won’t look at him. Just keeps making laser eyes at a loaf of wheat bread he’s fondling.

“I’m sorry, what did you say?”

Keith shifts uncomfortably, and Lance tracks his movements.

“Your, uh, wife?”

“Who?”

“The lady from Thursday? The one that’s normally here with you. The white-haired good looking one?”

Lance can feel his eyes practically bug out of his head as Keith trails off quietly. He glances around the market to make sure he’s not like...being Punk’d or something. What in the fuck.

“You mean Allura? British accent? Built like an actual goddess? Able to handle the most passive aggressive of patrons with a sense of poise and rationality?” Lance cannot fucking believe this. He wants to laugh in disbelief, but doubts that would go over well with Keith.

The group chat is going to blow up when he relays this information.

When Keith finally chances a quick look up at him, he looks brutally uncomfortable. Red dusts the tops of his cheeks and ears and he’s twisting the wrapper of yet another loaf of bread around his fingers so tightly that it’s turning his fingertips purple.

Lance reaches out to grab the loaf from him and their fingers touch. He smiles at the jolt it sends through them both.

“She’s not my wife, dude. She’s a lesbian, first of all. And she’s the general manager of my mom’s bakery. I wouldn’t even be allowed to look at her if my mom thought I was trying to get with her.”

He can visibly see the distress disappear from Keith, the tight way he was holding his shoulders all but melts out of him and the only thing Lance can do is smile like a dumbass until they make eye contact again.

“Was that a Panic! at The Disco lyric?” is the only thing Keith says back to him, his mouth curving up into a crooked smile.

“Shut up. Let’s finish setting up so I can set you free to sharpen knives, you little weirdo.”

After that morning and the wildly uncomfortable clarification that followed, Keith comes over to the bakery stall to help set up most days. Even if Allura is there.

Lance is a just and fair motherfucker, so he makes Allura, Hunk, and Pidge promise to not bring up the wife thing until Keith is actually like, cool with them. As to not embarrass him and ruin Lance’s chances of kissing his stupid face, mostly.

He gets along well with Allura, which is nice because Lance doesn’t fuck with people who don’t get along with Allura. They talk about shit that Lance doesn’t really care about, like, old books and Downton Abbey and Jane Austen or whatever the fuck and they have pointless, winding arguments about the architecture of the market.

Keith is a little quiet, like Shiro had said, but still funny and easy to get along with. He makes a lot of small pointed comments that have Allura and Lance cracking up, especially when they’re about some of the patrons they have.

He spends fifteen minutes one day ranting about a woman who wanted her blender blades sharpened. Which, Keith maintains, would have been fine, if the blender blades actually detached from her shitty old ass blender. He’d had to explicitly detail why he couldn’t sharpen the blades in the blender if the blades were still in the blender to this woman for upwards of twenty minutes and he’d come over to the bakery stall after she’d left red in the face.

At the end of market days, Lance usually moseys on over with leftover pastries and bread for him, now that he knows that Keith has a secret spot in his heart for the energy bars that the bakery makes. The smiles he gives Lance are enough to make the entire day and all the bullshit that comes with it worth it.

It takes a little bit of persuasion on Lance’s end to get Hunk to agree to actually talk to Keith. He spends a lot of time at his moms’ stall but always seems to vanish whenever Keith shows up in the morning to help Lance and Allura unpack. Probably because he still thought Keith was going to mcmurder them all.

“Did you really think I was a serial killer?” Keith is pouting a little at Hunk, who looks horribly offended that Lance just threw him under the bus like that.

They cluster in little groups at one person’s stall depending on the time and the day and right now Lance and Hunk are loitering in front of Keith’s Knife Hut while Allura mans the bakery stall. There aren’t that many people here yet so nobody feels that bad about abandoning work to troll the other vendors’ stalls.

Hunk is weak in the face of Keith’s naturally occurring puppy dog eyes and is actively trying to backtrack, “No, dude, no, of course not. I didn’t really think that. I was just, well, ya know…concerned.”

“You don’t think that now though, right?”

Lance can’t help it when he taps the knife that Keith has just sharpened and set down beside one of his grinders, “You better not think that still, because if Keith knew that you convinced everyone he was a serial killer when he first started here, that could be a pretty good motivator for him to actually start killing.”

This causes Hunk to flap his arms a little bit and whine, “It was just the truck, alright? It gives off really intense murder vibes.”

Keith is starting to look actually affronted, pressing his hand to his chest like one of the Victorian women he and Allura always go on about. It makes Lance outwardly laugh, he can’t help it.

“What’s wrong with my truck? I love that truck.”

“Dude, are you fucking me? It’s weird and old and makes creepy noises and is not one, but two, horrible colors.”

“So what? I’ve had it forever and I love it. It’s not weird.”

“Whatever man, it’s weird.”

It’s fun, being friends with Keith, even if had taken a while. He drifts between them like a satellite, coming to talk with Lance and Allura and then down to Hunk’s moms’ stall to talk in depth about foraging for mushrooms, and over to Pidge’s parents’ stall to talk about bees and honey.

They tease him a lot, especially Hunk and Pidge, because he gets along really well with their moms. Shiro eventually gets wind of it and gives him mad shit for befriending all the older women at the market, including Miss Kelly and Auntie Shirogane. Apparently, it’s always been kind of a thing. Shiro’s mom loves Keith too.

For two market days, everyone makes wildly pointed jokes about Keith attracting cougars and being into older women until he loses his shit and practically shouts “I’m gay!” in the middle of yet another conversation about it, making a few of the market patrons stop and look at him.

He looks embarrassed for a few seconds after until he powers through and continues with, “So, no, I’m not a cougar hunter. Excuse me for getting along really well with older women. It’s more than I can say for the rest of you.”

And that’s that.

Except that it isn’t.

Because hearing that proclamation makes the warmth swirl around low in Lance’s stomach again and he’s reminded just how strongly he wants to kiss Keith’s stupid, red face.

Lance and Hunk hang out a decent amount when they aren’t at the market, perks of being best bros obviously, and occasionally Pidge will come out as well. A lot of the time they just hang out at one of the bars downtown but sometimes they go out and do fun things, like movies and apple orchards and seasonal shit like that.

They’ve been trying to get Shiro to come for literal seasons to no avail, but Keith may be their in.

It’s Hunk who actually verbally suggests they invite Keith to go out with them after the market the upcoming Saturday, but Lance has been thinking about it for, well, weeks.

Lance doesn’t even have to Hunk to get behind the bakery table and keep things running before he’s already doing it, he heads over towards Keith’s stall with a skip in his step.

Before he even gets there, he’s smiling like a dumbass bastard, because Keith is wearing the ridiculous magnifying headset type thing that he sometimes wears. It has a light in it to help him see better and it also serves as one of the best things Lance has ever seen in his dumb life.

“Good looks out here, Knife Guy.”

Keith starts and bats the magnifying headband up from his line of vision and is starting to blush before he even realizes that it’s Lance who’s giving him shit.

“Oh, get fucked.” His words sound dismissive but he’s setting the pocket knife he was working on aside and turning off his grinders, smirking up at Lance from the chair that he now knows is horribly off balance.

Keith lets him sit in it sometimes, while he quietly explains the intricacies of knife sharpening to Lance from over his shoulder. He lets Lance sharpen things occasionally, hand over handing him along so he doesn’t do anything stupid. Lance…truly doesn’t give a shit about knives, but he gives a shit about Keith and what Keith gives a shit about, so he shuts up and listens and presses close when he’s allowed.

“I’d sure like to get fucked, but only if you come with me.” He’s saying it before he really has a chance to think it through and then he’s just committing, leaning into it. Full speed ahead, boys.

It’s stupidly obvious that he and Keith have a bit of a thing going on. They don’t talk about it or confront it, but it’s very obviously there. He’s just waiting to see which one of them breaks first and makes the initial move.

He’s pretty sure the rest of them have bets on when it’ll happen but he doesn’t want to know any of proposals for fear of swaying a certain way. He wants this to happen naturally.

Keith is bright red and rolling his eyes so far back into his head that Lance is concerned that it hurts, but that’s all he does.

They watch each other for a few seconds before Keith uses the pocket knife to kind of make a “well, what do you want?” type of gesture at Lance. It’s kind of hot.

“Come out with us tonight.” It comes out softer than he intends, more of a request than the command he means for it to be and he leans up against the brick pillar to look down at Keith. It doesn’t feel like a power move, things feel perfectly balanced and Lance is caught in the intensity of Keith’s half lidded gaze.

“Where ya goin’?” The more comfortable Lance gets against the pillar, the farther down Keith slouches in his chair. His legs are spread wide and he looks comfortable and relaxed and just a little bit challenging and Lance wants to crawl in his fucking lap and cuddle up. This is absolute bullshit.

“Probably just Ryner’s. We usually go after the market and she lets us chill because we bring her free shit.” Please say yes, Lance is viciously wishing, chanting over and over in his head. Come hang out with us, you big idiot. Let me buy you a beer, let me see what you’re like when you aren’t at the market.

“Alright, I’ll be there.” Keith’s smiling up at him and Lance feels like his knees are going to give out and he’s going to collapse on the cement floor in a gooey, love struck pile.

It becomes a thing. Because of course it does.

They go every weekend. Lance buys Keith a whole lot of beers.

As the season progresses and the weather gets colder at the end of September, Lance starts to bitch more about his wardrobe.

It makes Keith laugh, mostly because of the overalls and the fact that Lance refuses to stop wearing them and also refuses to wear anything resembling socks. The big sun hat goes away for the season, unfortunately enough.

The plimsolls and the bare ankles stay, and Keith still can feel himself get pink when he thinks about how every part of Lance is nice. He’s a dumbass.

Their mornings stay dark and cold and Keith always brings as many layers as he can because he can’t sharpen knives if his fingers don’t work.

It’s six am one morning when Keith wanders over to the bakery stall after setting up all of his own stuff to see Lance shivering aggressively in only a zip up. He says nothing at first, but he takes note that Lance still seems cold after all of the manual labor of unpacking the van.

“I hate this stupid state. Why don’t we live somewhere where it’s eternally warm?”

Hunk rolls his eyes at Lance saying the same thing he says every morning of the market at six am and snags an old-fashioned donut from the display.

“I can’t feel my fucking hands. Weather below 60 degrees is cancelled. Fall, whomst? I don’t know her.” As Lance continues loudly damning the weather, he sneaks up beside Keith and under his arm to snuggle into his body heat.

It’s not the first time they’ve touched this close, but it still feels like the first time. Keith can actively feel the heat rushing up his face as he lets Lance tuck his taller self up against him.

He’s about ready to offer Lance the work jacket off his back and just suffer through the chill in the air when his mind flashes a picture of yet another jacket tucked in the backseat of his pickup. He ducks out from Lance’s octopus limbs and throws a quick “I’ll be right back.” to Allura, Hunk, and Lance.

As he’s shuffling past his own stall, he can hear Hunk crow “Look what you did!” and Lance squawk in offense. He smiles and ignores it, jogging to the parking lot to rummage around in his truck.

By the time he’s back, Lance and Hunk appear to be trying to put each other in headlocks and barely notice when Keith sticks his arm out and taps Lance with the hand the jacket is in.

“Here. Wear this.”

Lance is big eyed and silent as he glances over at Keith and it makes him resolutely look the other way to prevent a full-bodied blush from taking over. He doesn’t have time for this.

He doesn’t glance back over at Lance and Hunk until Lance has pushed his arms into both sleeves of the leather jacket and tugged it on. It looks kind of dumb, because Lance’s limbs are a lot longer than Keith’s, but his hoodie is long enough to cover his wrists and it’s warmer than nothing.

It causes something warm to unfurl in his chest and he can’t help but smile at Lance’s slightly reddened cheeks. He wants to do shit like this always.

Allura is looking on with an absolutely unimpressed expression and she turns to Hunk with an elbow to his solar plexus.

“Hunk, I’m cold as well. Where is your convenient leather jacket that you can give to me for the day?”

“Damn Allura, I can’t control the weather. Get off me.”

They’re so clearly making fun of Keith, but he barely even feels it, he’s too busy watching Lance’s dumbstruck face.

He feels tingly and alive and he’s so glad that he works at this stupid farmers market and that these are his stupid friends. He pushes his shoulder up against Lance’s and they spend a few seconds suspended in each other’s smiles and it’s, on god, one of the dumbest things that’s ever happened to him and Keith loves it.

Weeks pass like this, the four or five or six of them, depending on Shiro’s level of bullshittery that day, fucking around on market days and giving Coran grey hair and exchanging their wares for promises of beer on the weekends.

Keith learns that he actually really likes Pidge and that she actually really likes bees. Her parents are apiarists who do weird, complicated scientific research with bees which resulted in a farmers market stand and copious amounts of different flavored honey.

He goes over to her house one afternoon after the market closes to see her parents’ colonies and it’s one of the coolest things he’s ever witnessed. It feels like some sort of weird fantasy movie where he’s able to talk to bees and they don’t sting him, because the honey bees as Pidge says, are docile and sweet and only sting as the last resort.

Hunk’s moms take him out to forage for mushrooms with their special Italian mushroom dogs and Keith gets dirty and grimy and laughs more in one afternoon than he has in ages. He comes home with a little brown paper sack of some of the best mushrooms he’s ever had.

The five of them spend slow and lazy autumn evenings tucked into a copse of trees on the Shirogane farm and it feels good. Good in a way that Keith didn’t even know he was missing before this.

They meet Allura’s new girlfriend, a soft-spoken blonde named Romelle, who turns around and gives Lance a run for his money in terms of drinking him under the table. They love her.

He’s so pleased with how this random choice in his life turned out. He really does owe Shiro a thank you.

He’ll get around to it.

One crisp afternoon in the beginning of October, Lance invites him, just him, over to the bakery for a cookie making demonstration from Lance’s very own mother.

She’s sweet and shorter than Keith but takes up a perfectly appropriate amount of space in every room and Keith might be a little bit in love with her too. He’s forced into a dorky apron with the bakery logo on it and it makes Lance laugh so hard that he sprays flour everywhere with the force of it and Keith feels like he’s exactly where he’s supposed to be.

His ma, Lance explains to him after she heads to the front to work the register, started the bakery ten years ago on a whim. She didn’t know if it would work but it was something she had thought about for years and her culinary and baking background was sufficient enough to get it up off the ground.

“I love it here, and I love her, and I love that this is what she loves to do,” Lance is telling him as he frosts little cookies with a pastry bag with such concentration that it takes Keith’s breath away.

“Do you see yourself doing anything else?” Keith is hesitant to ask, but he’s also genuinely curious. His eyes keep catching on the flour that’s dusting over Lance’s freckles. He wants to reach out and brush it off, mostly for an excuse to feel Lance’s face, but he focuses back on poorly decorating his own cookie.

“I can see myself doing a lot of other things, but I’m not sure if I’d like anything as much as this, ya know?”

“Yeah, I get that.”

“Ma will get, I don’t know, probably fifteen more years out of the bakery if she chooses to, and I think after that she’ll pass it along to me. I hope so, at least. My other siblings have all either moved out of town or aren’t interested in the bakery.” Lance glances up at him as he says it, a sweet little smile on his lips.

“Plus, the market part is one of my favorite things in the entire world. I like being there and I like the vibe and Coran giving me shit. I more or less run that entire part of the bakery and it’s a responsibility that I didn’t even know I was going to like so much.”

Keith is diligently trying to pipe icing out in the way that Lance’s mom showed him earlier when Lance bumps his hip into Keith’s to get him out of the way. He takes over and Keith just lets him, watching his long-fingered hands.

“Like, having regulars is one of the coolest things to me. I know these people and I know what they like and I can have their orders ready before they even tell me what they want. It’s rewarding in a way a lot of other things aren’t, ya know?” Lance is so close to him now and looking at him while piping at the same time and the knowledge that he’s choosing to share this with Keith, here, in this space, makes him warm from the crown of his head down to his toes in his boots.

“Mm, I get that. It’s not quite the same for me, but I definitely understand the familial ties to a specific craft.” Keith doesn’t really say much more than that, doesn’t want to bring the mood down out of his own volition.

“Yeah?” And Lance stops what he’s doing entirely, focuses his huge luminescent anime eyes on Keith and he just crumbles. Whatever normally stops him from talking about this part of his life kind of gives way in the face of how interested and genuine Lance seems to be.

So, Keith talks.

“My dad, he, uh, passed a way a few years ago. Around five or so now? I was young when it happened, about eighteen. So, it wasn’t the worst thing that could have happen, I could have been younger, but it wasn’t easy either.” He searches about for something to do with his hands so he’s not just standing here monologuing to a boy he likes about his dead father.

Finally, he spots a dish rag and sets about cleaning the gleaming chrome countertops of Lance’s mother’s kitchen.

“I don’t know how the hell he even got started sharpening things, but he’d done it for as long as I’d been alive. He had all of the tools and stuff, everything I have now is actually his. And when he died, I just had a surplus of what felt like useless knowledge about knives and tools and shit. And basically all the paraphernalia.”

Lance is still watching him as he turns lazy circles around the island that they’re working at. It doesn’t feel heavy or like Lance is making him speak, he just keeps looking.

“I had dropped out of college about a year after he died because I’d lost essentially the only structure I’d ever had and just kind of floated for a bit. I realized, eventually and only because one of my dad’s old restaurant contacts called looking to set him up with a new client, that everyone my dad had been working for had nobody taking care of their stuff. So I figured, okay, might as well take up the mantle. Be the knife sharpener I wanted to see in the world.”

He looks up from sweeping flour into his hands to toss in the trash to see Lance smiling at him. It’s soft and sweet and makes Keith want to kiss it off him.

“I like it a lot, though. More than I ever thought I would. It’s nice being able to do something with my hands. And now I’m here. Well, not physically here, but like…at the market. So, I figure it was worth it.” Keith should be legally required not to speak anymore.

“Thanks for sharing that with me, Keith.”

Normally something like that feels weird and forced and clichéd, but yet again, Lance just seems truly genuine to the point where Keith can’t look at him anymore.

“Uh, yeah, of course. Thanks for making me feel like I could.”

The market feels comfortable to Keith in a way that he never thought that it would.

He knows most of the vendors, by sight if not by name. He’s, by law, allowed to give Coran mad shit about just about anything.

When his grinders make horrific squealing noises during a particularly tricky knife sharpening, all of the other vendors ignore it while the patrons all act like he’s murdering someone in real time. At first Keith adamantly apologized to anyone who was around when it happened, now he just lets it go.

Sometimes people hover behind him and watch him sharpen like they’ve never seen a dude with a knife before. At first it made him tense, made him feel like he was being judged. But he realized after a while that people are just interested in something that doesn’t get done often enough.

And kids love to watch. They’ll stand beside him for the entire time it takes their parents to make a round of the market. Sometimes he lets them sit next to him and watch, answers their poorly phrased questions and let’s them look at his tools. He loves that it makes Lance blush from across the aisle.

He talks more in the last few months than he’s talked in the last six years. Mostly explanations for what he’s doing and why. He gets to talk about something he’s really passionate about to people who are occasionally equally as passionate three days a week.

If he looks up, about three quarters of the time he’ll catch Lance’s eye and they’ll smile at each other in a way that Pidge says should precede the chorus of a boyband’s Top 40 single.

It’s around this time in late October that Keith realizes that the season is ending soon. The market won’t be open after the first weekend in November.

He, predictably, freaks the fuck out.

How is he going to see Lance? And Hunk and Allura and Pidge? The main reason he sees them so much now is work and the odds that they’ll want to hang out with him when they don’t see him three times a week is slim.

What in the hell is he going to do?

A full two days between Tuesday and Thursday are spent going balls to the wall crazy with anxiety, but Keith can’t help it. He doesn’t want to lose this new-found friend group and go back to only watching Downton Abbey with Shiro and Adam on the weekends. He may not survive.

He can feel how weird he’s being when he gets to the market on Saturday and Lance picks up on it almost immediately.

Keith is so freaked out that he dumps the entirety of his toolbox on the floor when Lance pops into existence next to his table about half an hour before the market opens.

“Keith, dude, are you alright?” Lance’s eyebrows are well up his forehead and it makes Keith’s face flush so red he feels fluorescent.

“What. Yep, totally fine. So good. Just great. Thank you for asking.”

“That was like, five different responses. What’s going on?” Before Keith can come up with another evasion, Lance is reaching out and lightly touching his shoulder and it stops Keith in his anxiety driven tracks.

He must see the look on Keith’s face because before he really registers what’s happening, Lance is tugging him up out of his folding chair and ushering him into the weird little overhang that the market bathrooms are in.

“Keith, did something happen? Do you need help with something?” Lance’s brows are furrowed and his mouth is turned down in a frown and Keith wants to kiss him so badly he can barely think straight.

Both of his big hands are pressed firmly to Keith’s shoulders, which shouldn’t be as comforting as it is. They’re so warm that it feels like palm prints of sun. One leaves his shoulder to nudge Keith’s chin up so Lance can meaningfully meet his eyes.

Before Lance can start up again, Keith is blurting, “Does the bakery have knives I can sharpen? Like, when the market season ends?”

He feels like an actual dumbass as soon as the words fall out of his mouth. It’s a fabulous summation of every thought he’s had over the last two days, purely distilled anxious worry.

Lance tilts his head to one side in a way that’s so reminiscent of a Golden Retriever that Keith has to stop breathing in order to not kiss him. They’re so close that all Keith would have to do is lean in just a little bit. But that’s an entirely different thing to panic and obsess over than what’s happening right now.

“I mean, yeah. I guess. Why does that matter right now, though?” Lance is so clearly trying to think through the connection of his weird knives question and why he seems so weird and anxious about the market ending.

“Are you guys still going to hang out with me when the market ends?”

In between this thought and the next, Lance is lunging forward and wrapping his arms around Keith so tight that he can barely breathe. He’s a couple inches taller than Keith, so his head fits perfectly in the crook of Lance’s neck. It’s so comforting that it has him reeling, especially when Lance’s hands rub up and down the expanse of his back.

“Dude, are you kidding me? You aren’t going anywhere.” It’s said into Keith’s hair, so it’s kind of muffled.

“We aren’t going anywhere either. You’re in our group chat. This is a solid and unbreakable market bond, Keith. We’re ride or die now.”

It settles something that was swirling inside Keith almost instantly, hearing it from Lance’s mouth.

Lance pulls back to look at him and reaches out to tuck a piece of Keith’s unruly hair back behind his ear. It makes his breath catch in a way that he’s almost immediately annoyed by.

“Seriously, don’t worry. We aren’t letting you go.” It’s so soft, the way Lance says it, that Keith has to surge back up onto his toes and hug him again. He lets Lance press him back into the brick wall and relishes the feeling of the soft hair at the back of Lance’s neck and the uneven press of their chests when they breathe.

Instead of acknowledging this comfort like a regular person, all Keith can think about is when he’s going to see Lance like this next.

“Do you, uh, want to come over later? Like…to my apartment?”

Lance pulls back and smiles bright, it’s teasing and stupid and Keith has to thunk his head back against the brick wall in the face of it.

“Aw Keith, you just want to get me alone, don't ya? Get me to your creepy murder house so you can kill me?”

Keith shoves past him with a reluctant smile and heads back to his stall, ignoring Lance’s shout of “See you later tonight so you can kill me in the privacy of your own home, bud!”

Lance, admittedly, is a little worried about what Keith’s apartment is going to look like. Mostly curious, but a little worried.

From what he knows about Keith, there’s a lot of plaid and leather and knives and not much else on the wardrobe front. Keith acts like nobody can see the literal knife sheath that he has strapped to his belt, but everybody knows it’s there.

He follows behind Keith’s rumbly truck after the market closes to a sweet little brick apartment building above a pharmacy on a not-so-busy street downtown.

Keith is out and heading towards the door before Lance even has a chance to park, so he’s frantically catching up as Keith unlocks the door, running into his back and looping his arms around his waist in a way he’s trying to convince himself is friendly but ultimately misses the mark just a bit.

He’s led up a few flights of stairs into a brightly lit and open living room and it’s safe to say he’s pleasantly surprised.

There’s a lot of exposed brick and a few big windows and a decent amount of slightly weird but homey touches. Keith has an entire row of plants lined up along the top of a jam-packed bookshelf, which Lance inherently knows is filled with a weird mix of sci-fi, romance, and Austen and the Bronte sisters.

Keith bumbles into the kitchen after dropping off his market supplies in a chair by his dining room table, mumbling something about tea and giving Lance free reign of his living room.

Another book shelf has a line of knick-knacks and tchotchkes, mostly small animal figurines and little bowls filled with miscellaneous items like mismatching buttons and single screws. On his coffee table rests a few good smelling candles and a red lighthouse miniature that flickers with warm light when Lance clicks the switch. It’s sweet and so unassumingly Keith that Lance almost can’t breathe around it.

He puts his hands on his hips and stands in the middle of the room, turning so he can get a good feel for it and also so he can catch all of the paintings and posters on the wall in one go.

There’s an artisanal lunar calendar that looks like it may have been made by one of the artists at the market on one wall and vintage Star Trek posters that make Lance smile.

“Is this a Pride and Prejudice movie poster?”

Keith pokes his head around the entryway of the kitchen and glowers at him.

“Fuck off, it’s the 2005 version and it holds a very special place in my heart. Don’t talk shit or Allura will know and kill you.”

Lance has to stifle a snicker and throws himself back on the couch, ghosting his fingers along a throw blanket that he can tell has been hand knit.

“Hey,” he calls out in the vague direction of the kitchen, “who made this blanket?”

With two mugs of tea in hand, Keith emerges from his kitchen and takes a seat next to Lance. He folds his legs beneath him and hands one mug off to Lance.

“Oh, my mom did? A long time ago. I think when she was pregnant with me.” Lance leans into him a little bit, because they’re alone and just because he can. The mug he has is a reproduction of a summery looking landscape from the National Gallery of Art. He wants to know everything about Keith ever.

A vaguely committal noise is all it takes for Keith to keep talking.

“She’s traveling abroad right now for a few months. Her and my dad were like, stupidly in love even though she didn’t always live with us and she spent a few years feeling like she had to be here for me until I convinced her that she just…needed to go somewhere else for a while. I think she’s in Germany right now?”

“That’s cool as hell.” Lance chances a light brush of his fingertips against the back of Keith’s hand and is unmeasurably pleased when Keith twists his palm around and twines their fingers together. He doesn’t even have to look at Keith to know that he’s flushed red as hell.

“Yeah. Uh, you wanna watch something? I have the old BBC Pride and Prejudice on Amazon Prime. I know your uncultured ass hasn’t seen it.”

“Probably because it’s fucking old, dude.”

Lance begrudgingly agrees simply because he knows that Keith will mouth along to the proposal scene. He’s rewarded pleasantly when Keith doesn’t let his hand go for the entirety of the first few episodes.

It’s a different night later in the week but Lance and Keith are in the same position on the same couch. This time, they get Indian take out and burrito themselves in blankets and drink probably just a little bit too much of the mulled wine they got at one of the stalls before they left the market.

The twilight settles over them like another blanket and no one bothers to turn on a light after the sun slips under the horizon.

They’re both leaned back against the couch, looking at each other and not really moving. It’s soft and comforting and sweet in a way Lance isn’t always sure he deserves.

The last day of the market is next week and he’s pleased to say that Keith only seems sad in the expected way, not the I’m Going to Lose All My Friends kind of way that he was earlier in the week. They already have plans to go to the Shirogane farm next weekend to pick and carve pumpkins and have Auntie Shirogane make them too much pie.

“My dad and I used to live in this apartment when I was younger.” They’re talking slow, sharing bittersweet things between them in the same way they keep passing the mulled wine bottle back and forth.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. We moved to a different house a few years before he died but he kept this apartment. I think because he knew I liked it so much.”

“It’s a good place. It feels like you.” Lance barely knows what that means, but he knows it’s true as soon as he says it.

“I forgot about it for a while but once I left school, I came back here. It feels like his, but in an echoey kind of way, where sometimes I see something that was so clearly belonged to him that I have to stop and breathe. But It feels like mine, too. So much of my shit is here, stuff that he wasn’t ever around to see but I’m pretty sure he’d like. It’s nice.” Keith’s voice is soft and quiet, like he’s just a few more minutes off from falling asleep.

The vulnerability of it makes Lance ache. He drags his fingers through Keith’s thick hair and leans over to press a quick kiss to the crown of his head.

“I’m glad you’re here to see it.” Keith says it quietly, but Lance still hears.

“I am too. Thanks for letting me be here with you.”

They sit there like that for a while and time passes strangely, thick and syrupy and good.

Lance is just about to drift off to sleep when Keith sits up slow and tangles their fingers together.

“Come to bed with me.”

He goes.

They fall asleep curled around each other like parentheses in Keith’s bed with his handmade quilts and in the morning, Lance wakes up to the sweetest blush on Keith’s face.

It feels like the best thing in a long time.

As expected, they’re too loud and stupid and rowdy at the Shirogane farm the next weekend. They’re not even drunk yet and Lance is atop Hunk’s shoulders and commanding him around the pumpkin patch like he’s a horse. He doesn't know why Hunk puts up with it.

It makes Keith roll his eyes but he’s not going to pretend he doesn’t love it. Adam and Shiro keep pointing out the ugliest pumpkins and loudly declaring “that’s you” like middle schoolers.

Auntie Shirogane is sitting on the back porch watching them all wild out and it feels right in a way that pulses out of Keith’s chest.

Romelle, Pidge, and Allura are taking the quest of finding the perfect pumpkin way too seriously and he’s pretty sure Pidge is incessantly chattering about the mathematical way to find the perfect pumpkin that doesn’t seem like it’s a real thing.

They carve pumpkins on the back porch and get the slimy innards everywhere and Auntie Shirogane serves them blisteringly hot apple and pumpkin pie. Hunk forces everyone to watch It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown even though Halloween was last week.

It’s good, it’s so good and Keith gets to sit on the couch sardined in between all of these people that he loves and just radiate with how good it feels.

During what Keith now knows from Lance is "golden hour," he feels a light tap on his shoulder and a hand thread through his. He glances to the side and predictably, it’s Lance, a grin cut across his face that’s so bright Keith has to shut his eyes a little bit. He wonders if it will always be like this. He’d like to think that it will.

“Come with me, I have to show you something,” Lance all but whispers to him, excited and tugging him up from the couch. Everybody is doing their own thing, so no one really notices when they slip out of the living room onto the back porch.

“Come on, pick up the pace, Lil Knifey, let’s go.”

“Do not under any circumstances call me that ever again.”

He drags Keith bodily up the hill that bumps against the back of the pumpkin patch. He’s drenched in gold and it makes his hair shine coppery and his eyes look almost see through when he glances back to make sure that Keith is still attached to him.

“What are we even up here for?” Keith finally asks when they crest the hill. There’s a little red barn on the top of the hill that he casts a glance at before Lance is pulling them behind it, facing the setting sun.

“Look,” is all Lance says as he sweeps his hand over the vegetable fields that the Shirogane house is nested between. There’s a thick forest that surrounds the far ends of the fields and the setting sun makes the fall colors of the trees look like flames.

It’s beautiful in a very quotidian way and Keith belatedly thinks that he loves it, thinks that he may love Lance too, for bringing him up here.

Lance turns towards him and his eyes are shining and he’s smiling just as bright as the fiery trees, “I just wanted you to see this. It’s my favorite part of fall and I wanted you to know.” Keith is so fucking stupid for him.

He can only nod and reach out to tangle their fingers together, tugging Lance closer to him by the arm.

With a slight shuffle, Lance disengages from Keith’s clinging and wraps his arm around Keith’s shoulders, bringing him close. He presses a light kiss to Keith’s temple and all Keith wants to do is seal his mouth to Lance’s.

They stand there while the sun begins to drop below the horizon until Lance gets restless. He abruptly pulls away from Keith and turns his whole body toward him.

“Okay, well, really quick, before we go back inside, I’m going to do something I’ve wanted to do pretty much since I met you. If you’re not down for it, just let me know, that’s totally fine. Totally good. Cool cool cool.”

“Just, here we go.”

And he presses his fingers so delicately to the side of Keith’s jaw and kisses him so sweetly that Keith is pretty sure that this is a vivid day dream that he fucking made up.

But it’s absolutely not, because Lance pulls back and gets a good look at Keith’s face and smiles so brightly that Keith just has to…kiss it off of him. It’s what he deserves, after five months of looking at his dumb happy face all the fucking time.

Lance backs him up against the rough wood of the little red barn and Keith belated sends a little thanks to whatever deity hooked him the fuck up when Lance presses his entire body against Keith’s.

Soft little open-mouthed kisses are being dropped along the side of his neck and his jawline and the only thing Keith can see is the very edge of the sun finally dropping below the horizon and he makes a noise that he is absolutely going to be embarrassed about later.

Lance’s mouth is so fucking soft and his big warm palms feel like brands against Keith’s slightly chilled skin and this is absolutely the best thing to have ever happened.

Between kisses pressed all over his face, Lance breathes out, “I’m so gone over you,” and Keith is pretty sure that all of the light from that sunset and the fiery trees is welling up inside of him and threatening to spill over.

He loops an arm around Lance’s neck and pulls him down to whisper “Me fucking too,” against his lips.

Things go wildly downhill from there, or uphill depending on which way you look at it. In a truly stunning turn of events, Lance is the one to reluctantly suggest they go back inside because it’s well and truly dark now. Keith has to unwrap his legs from around Lance’s waist after he’d been hoisted up and pressed back into the barn again. He’s fairly sure he has bits of wood all over the back of his jacket and a pretty vivid hickey on the soft spot just below his ear, but the look on Lance’s face and the wild state of his curly brown hair leaves him mostly unconcerned.

There’s a pointed chill in the air when they finally amble inside. Keith is normally a bit apprehensive about the winter, but he has a good feeling that he’ll be very warm this season.

When they get back inside and pointedly ignore all of the jeers from their friends and the money changing hands, Auntie Shirogane corners him in the kitchen.

She’s a slight woman, tiny but intense. She’s been in Keith’s life just as long as Shiro has and he has a fierce love for her that he doesn’t think will ever go away.

But it’s tested pretty thoroughly when she looks at him and smirks, “Glad whatever that boy did stopped your scowling. Your face is too handsome, I don’t want you to get wrinkles.”

Keith lets Lance drive him home and lead him up into his own apartment. Lets him press Keith up against the doorjamb of his bedroom, because, apparently, they’ve both got a thing for that. Lets him spoon up behind him when they finally get into bed and lets him steal all the covers, but only for a little bit until he kicks Lance awake and they kiss gently in the two am darkness.

And when he wakes up the next morning to see Lance looking at him through sleepy eyes, he blushes and doesn’t even feel bad, because Lance descends on him and kisses all over his face like an idiot.

And it’s good. It’s so good.

Thank god for Keith’s Knife Hut. He’s got to tell Shiro that.

He’ll do it tomorrow, for sure.

#rise and grind y'all lets get this schmoney #klance #klance fics #farmers market au #keith #lance #vld #voltron #voltron legendary defender #I went hard for like three days and ended up with this #they fall in love over a market season #they work at market stalls across from each other #and make mad fucking googly eyes for weeks #then kiss kiss fall in love #it's just...rly fucken soft y'all

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idyoma · 5 years

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The 14 Best Language Learning Apps for Fluency in 2019

Best Language Learning Apps

You’re here because you're looking for language learning apps so you can keep learning anytime, anyplace, anywhere.

For an in-depth look at our seven favorite tools check out our best language learning software article.

If you want to see a little more variety and some extra interesting concepts keep reading!

Here are some quick links to all the tools we recommend. Scroll down for an overview of each one!

Our best language learning apps:

Duolingo

Idyoma

Memrise

Mondly

Babbel

Italki

Quizlet

Our extra best language learning apps:

Busuu

Rosetta Stone

Beelinguapp

Clozemaster

TripLingo

AnkiApp

HiNative

Duolingo: Best language learning app

Duolingo has to be top of our list. The largest language learning app in the world boasts over 200 million users; a huge community with varied interests which Duolingo has been developing new language courses for.

You can anything from Spanish to Klingon with Duolingo.

One of the things which makes Duolingo so good for users is that it is free. Sure, you have to look at adverts every time you complete a mini-lesson, but that is of little inconvenience. If you want to pay and support Duolingo then it’s not expensive to buy the premium product which means you can hide adverts, access a small amount of gated content, and feel happy that you are supporting the learning of others.

Duolingo tests you on your vocabulary, on your grammar, and even uses voice recognition to try to test your pronunciation.

All of the learning through Duolingo is undertaken through small games. These games normally involve selecting the correct words in your language to translate a sentence from the language you are learning, matching words with their translations, and selecting the correct sentence from a selection of similar options.

That is, no long lists of vocabulary and no conjugation tables.

Duolingo works very well to learn the basics of a language and can work as an excellent refresher for someone who is at an intermediate level. I still regularly go back to Duolingo to keep myself sharp.

Highly recommend.

Idyoma: Best language exchange app

Idyoma is based around the idea that because language is a social tool, we should find a social way to learn it. With Idyoma you can find other language learners in your area who you can meet with to practice, share cultures, and have fun.

Structurally Idyoma is probably most similar to Tinder - an app we all know and love. The difference with Idyoma is that your goal would be to meet with anyone who has a corresponding language skill set to you. Of course, this also means that you can get significant value by connecting with a person who is not in your area, for example, via a video call conversation.

In Idyoma, you have two ways of searching for language partners. You can search your local area or you can search globally based on the language you want to learn. So, for example, I could open up Idyoma and find a Spanish speaker who wants to practice English in my area here in Seville, or I could go onto the worldwide screen and look through all the Spanish speakers on the app. Maybe I would connect with a person from Colombia or Peru. I could then chat with them in the app or via video call.

The best part about it is the ability to find people local to you. However, it is still very useful to be able to look globally and find a large number of people.

In terms of features, Idyoma has a clean visual interface where you can see multiple photos from the person you are considering meeting with - it uses a card structure so that you can swipe between different users. When you are having a conversation with another user in the chat screen you can Auto Translate messages and also recommend Corrections to someone else's message.

Idyoma is free but has a small verification fee for people who want to prove they are not a robot and want to help support the application.

You can download Idyoma for iOS here: Idyoma: Language Exchange

And for Android here: Idyoma: Language Exchange

Memrise: Best gamified language learning app

Memrise is a really good gamified language learning application. When you are using the app it does feel like you are playing a game and it is very easy to feel invested in your progress.

When someone describes an app as being gamified, what they may mean is that the app contains a narrative and a series of goals, and an interactive method to achieve those goals within the scope of a broad narrative. This could, for example, be done through earning points and being able to exchange those points for something else in the app which helps you complete a level. This kind of technique is utilized by many apps, particularly learning apps. Memrise uses this technique very effectively to help keep you interested, motivated, and engaged with your language learning efforts.

Memrise has a really large range of different languages within its platform which you can choose to learn. You can access this huge database of languages for free and you can access a load of really cool added features in their premium package; features like an interactive chatbot.

In my opinion, Memrise is best for improving your vocabulary. However, Memrise can be really useful for improving your grammar and learning conversational phrases too.

The app provides a parallel with Duolingo in that you can start learning a language from the point of having zero knowledge or experience and suddenly find yourself at a basic conversational level when you finish the course.

In the premium package you will also find a large library of videos from native speakers of the language you want to learn, along with many more games as well. This gives the premium package from Memrise a real edge because buying it provides you with significant value as a learner - not something all premium accounts deliver.

I can't finish talking about Memrise without mentioning its wonderful design. Through the gamified nature of the platform Memrise has found a way to present the design in an ambitious and adventurous way.

It makes the platform a pleasure to use.

Mondly: Best virtual reality language learning app

Features like grammar tests, interactive workbooks with question-and-answer scenarios, and over 33 languages make Mondly a strong choice for anyone deciding which is the best app for language learning.

However, Mondly deserves special mention for its unique and immersive virtual reality setup.

This allows you to partake in simulated conversations in a variety of virtual environments, which adds a depth to the experience of language learning second only to face-to-face interaction.

For people who find communication with others difficult, or simply prefer to learn in solitude, Mondly offers an enticing alternative to full real-world immersion.

This narrative aspect is a huge component of learning and memorizing a new language.

Mondly is also a great enterprise option, with a specialized product available for businesses interested in improving the language skills of their employees.

Any company looking to provide language training should strongly consider Mondly.

Babbel: Best conversational language learning app

"Babbel" is the imperative mood of "babbeln", which means "to chat" in a certain West German dialect. It's also a pun on the Tower of Babel, the story of which is about why there are so many different (and mutually incomprehensible) languages.

It's also the world's highest-selling language learning app, second only to Duolingo in raw downloads.

Babbel's approach is similar to Duolingo, focusing on short sessions of an interactive workbook that present you with tests, grammar and word problems, and similar exercises.

The difference is in how Babbel's courses are structured.

Designed with conversations in mind, the aim is to help you get better at conversing in your language of choice.

In that sense, Babbel's main focus is conversational language learning, where importance is placed on listening to, and reading the other side of the conversation to properly comprehend the discussion.

Babbel is a paid app, with a large variety of subjects and talking points to choose from. Lessons are split up into short 15 minute segments, so it's easy to pick up during a commute or on a lunch break.

Italki: Best language tuition app

If you're considering language tuition, you may have investigated your local language schools. That's great, if you happen to live in an area which can cater to your interests.

But for many people, especially those interested in less common languages, there simply are no viable options for local language tutoring.

That's where Italki comes in.

Italki's value proposition is 1-to-1 language tutoring from teachers all over the world.

You can search for teachers who are native speakers of the language you're interested in learning, with the option to video chat.

You can even specify that your teacher needs some (or even extensive) knowledge of your native language if you'd like.

The strength of Itaki is in its flexible and varied pricing, with options for all levels of specialization and formality. You can find a tutor who fits your schedule, your budget, and your level of proficiency.

Simply arrange a time to chat and get learning ASAP!

Quizlet: Best vocabulary learning app

Quizlet is a language app with a focus on highly customizable vocabulary learning.

You start by choosing a bunch of words or phrases you'd like to learn, and Quizlet lets you pick and choose what you deem to be the best way for you to learn them.

This approach recognizes that different people learn in different ways. Some people learn better with immersive word association; others prefer a simple paired list of words with their translation.

With this method you can build your ideal language learning course. If you want to build it out to be similar to Duolingo's approach, you can do that. If you prefer a Memrise-like structure, you can do that too.

You can build your course exactly how you want it.

But that's not all - Quizlet could also be called the "best language learning app for community content", because, well, there's a lot of community content! Over 270,000,000 to be exact.

For every new course (or "set", as Quizlet calls them) that you build, you can set it to be either public or private.

Public sets are then available for any Quizlet user to use for themselves.

Although, not all of Quizlet's content is focused on language learning, as it's used by all kind of teachers and students to improve their knowledge of just about any kind of vocabulary you could imagine.

Nonetheless, with its combined customization and community content, Quizlet is without a doubt one of the best language learning apps available.

Busuu: Best versatile language learning app

There are a lot of language learning apps available. Some of them offer highly customizable lesson plans, some of them offer ready-made courses for you to get started right away.

This can be confusing. How do you know which will work best for you? Maybe you want a bit of both, or are curious about testing some different approaches.

If this sounds familiar, then look no further. Busuu, (stylized as busuu) is a versatile language app for learners of all proficiencies.

What do I mean by "versatile"?

I mean that busuu offers a safe "middle way" between the highly customizable offering of Quizlet and the highly structured solutions of Duolingo. It has a bit of both!

You'll start by taking a placement test to make sure your lessons match up to your skill level, and from there you can navigate to the language of your choice from the busuu dashboard.

Each language has about 150 units, and all of busuu's modules are extremely well-organized. You will build on what you already know and utilize customizable tests and print-outs to learn at your own pace.

You also have the option to have your exercises corrected by a native speaker, for an additional measure of quality.

Rosetta Stone: Best language learning app for speech recognition

When it comes to language learning apps, if you haven't heard of Rosetta Stone then there's a pun in there somewhere.

Since 1996, Rosetta Stone has offered "dynamic immersion" language learning in the form of its signature software, pairing sound and text to images to facilitate learning.

The app follows in this lineage, focusing on practical scenarios and speech-recognition to improve your accent, in 24 different languages.

You can also download a bunch of the learning material for offline learning, which is a huge bonus for those wanting to save on data, or for offline sessions.

Rosetta Stone's experience in the language learning software industry, and the sheer amount of time they've been offering and refining their audio-based language learning solutions for clarity of pronunciation has earned it a place on this list.

Beelinguapp: Best language storytelling app

Whether you're watching Spanish telenovelas, reading Japanese manga, or using Beelinguapp, some people find that storytelling empowers their learning ability.

Specifically, Beelingu is focused on improving reading skills by offering mirrored text in two separate languages simultaneously.

You can choose from a range of stories at different levels of proficiency, in Japanese, Arabic, Korean, Chinese, Hindi, Turkish, French, Russian, Portuguese, Spanish, German, Italian, and English, with everything from news, science papers, fairy tales, and novels.

The app also offers an interesting "karaoke reading" feature, which is an audiobook that lets you listen as you read the mirrored text.

A great way to immerse yourself that isn't conversing!

Clozemaster: Best retro language learning app

Clozemaster requires some unpacking.

Simply put, it's a retro-themed app (for tablets, smartphones, and web browsers) that teaches vocabulary through gamification and a concept known as "cloze".

What is "cloze", you ask?

It comes from the term "cloze test", which is a way of testing comprehension by removing words from sentences. You can also think of it as a game of fill-in-the-gaps.

If you were trying to learn English, it'd look like this:

My _____ told me he thinks one of the best language learning apps is Idyoma.

You'd have a choice of options like "dog", "brother", "sister", "chair", "football".

Using your knowledge of the language, you'd infer the correct answer based on the options available. You're essentially learning the language through context.

Clozemaster is based on this method.

It utilizes Tatoeba, an enormous database of sentences designed for language learners, by taking sentences and blanking out the least common word.

Another perk of Clozemaster is that it's completely free. You don't even need an account (unless you want to save your progress; in which case you can make a free account).

TripLingo: Best language learning app for travelers

TripLingo is one of the only language learning apps designed specifically for travelers.

As you might expect, TripLingo focuses on useful phrases, and to that end it's a great crash-course resource for those looking to brush up before (or during) a trip.

Offering thousands of phrases, slang, audio lessons, flashcards, a translator, and quizzes for learning in 13 languages, TripLingo stands up as a language learning app outright.

But it really shines in its array of traveler-focused features like safety tools (how do you dial 911 in France? How do you tell someone you have a food allergy?), tip calculator, culture notes, and a whole suite of travel tools to aid the language-bereft wayward wanderer.

There's even a built-in wi-fi dialer for saving money on costly roaming calls!

AnkiApp: Best language learning app for customizable phrases and flashcards

Flashcards are a great way to learn languages. What AnkiApp offers is customizable flashcards, for learners who have specific word sets or vocabularies they want to learn.

Sure, some of the other apps on this list offer customizable flashcards. But AnkiApp offers a simple, streamlined solution, for those who simply want flashcards without any of the other features.

You can also search through a ton of community content in a wide range of languages, if you'd rather not spend time building flashcards yourself.

Definitely one to try if you are a fan of flashcards.

Moreover, it has a particularly strong cult following among those who are learning Asian languages. Some of the communities are practically Anki fan clubs. So if you’re learning Chinese, Japanese, Korean, or another Asian language, you should definitely check it out to see what all the fuss is about!

HiNative: Best Q&A language learning app

Last but not least, we have HiNative.

HiNative is a Q&A app that lets you ask any question you can think of to native speakers of the language you're trying to learn, with audio, image, and/or text support.

Because the format is quite conversational (you can ask about whatever you're interested in) it makes for a natural, fun way to build and practice vocabulary.

It's also informal and unstructured, so you have the chance to ask about things you may not find in some of the other offerings of this list, such as curse words (though that is far from the only way to use HiNative).

With over 100 languages, HiNative can be a great supplement to some of the other apps in this list, and deserves a mention if only for its unique offering.

What are your best language learning apps?

I've reviewed the best workflow apps, task management apps, BPM software, todo list apps, and productivity software, and people always have new apps they want to recommend in the comments.

So, go ahead and let me know! What are your favorite language learning apps? Do you know any hidden gems?

For more from Idyoma, check out these articles:

The 7 Best Language Learning Software of 2018: The Awards!

The Best 12 Spanish Movies to Immerse Yourself in the Language

Best Way to Learn Spanish: A 6 Month Process That Works for You

This article was written by Idyoma’s Adam Henshall and Oliver Peterson, who writes about processes and systems for business process management and workflow automation platform Process Street. Oliver is learning Spanish.

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