#like I respect gentleman jack for sticking to it and really leaning in to it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wanderlust-in-my-soul · 4 months

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10 BL Boys That I Want "Carnally"

aka The Horny List

I was tagged by @my-rose-tinted-glasses @twig-tea @rocketturtle4 and @nieves-de-sugui 🤍 Thank you so much! And sorry I am late to the game! I am lying down with a cold right now... what means I had a little time to think about this list and to respect my own weak heart for bad boys and puppy guys... The heart wants what the heart wants...

Starting the list with one of the softest and warmest bad boys out there right now:

Mhok from Last Twilight

He stole my heart from the beginning and never gave it back. I guess he will keep it for eternity. And that is totally fine! He has the biggest heart and is the biggest green flag disguised as a red flag that is walking the bl-world right now. I love how he looks at Day, how he takes care for him and how he slowly fell for him.

I guess the second one doesn't come as a surprise when you look at my profle pic:

Boeing from Only Friends

He is just sex on a stick and I am still mad that he got introduced so late into the show. He would have been so much fun to watch destroying the whole "friend group" piece by piece. I would have watched such a show. Well I guess I would watch a show in which he just leans out of the pool like that for 40 minutes straight and I wouldn't be mad...

On third we have our first couple, because one doesn't work without the other:

DongWook and DoHyun from A Breeze Of Love

I was so freaking happy seeing those two wanting each other. Those two were in love with each other, not just on an emotional level but on a physical level attracted to each other and the series didn't hide it! It is my favorite bl of this year and the mutual attraction played into it. And those two are just two lost puppies who wants to love and be loved and urgh! I love them!

Going on to an old crush of mine:

Forth from 2 Moons 2

Yes, it is mostly Pavel, but I really liked this soft bad boy with this rascal hair cut and the tattoos. I loved his whole character and yes in the end I am just a weak girl, because look at him!

One character I wish I could drag out of the screen and keep as my own little prince of his stupid white horse:

Yai from I Feel You Linger In The Air

He is one of the prettiest men I ever saw and his puppy eyes with which he is looking at Jom and the soft voice whenever he says his name were making me weak in the knees. He is a total romantic and just wants to love and be loved in return. He is the perfect gentleman and loyal till the end. He needs a strong partner at his side to be the best version of himself and when he dances, the whole world stops for a moment.

Coming to a very much new pic for me and it is a pairing again:

Naoki and Yamashiro from Kiss x Kiss x Kiss: Love ii Shower

I mean Naoki looked like a greek god and Yamashiro was just so sensual in this short episode. I have to confess, I couldn't find a version with subtitles, so I don't know exactly what they were talking about, but in the end, did I really care that much, especially when they started using a language I could understand very good? No, not really. Sometimes I just like looking at beautiful people kissing each other.

One of my long-lasting loves:

Mark from Love Mechanics

I adore War. I love him so much and I am going feral when Jack & Joker really comes real next year. He has one of the best faces out there. He looks good crying and being evil and of course laughing. And Mark was such a lost puppy prick and Vee treated him really shitty for most of the times, but because I love Vee too, I can't be too hard on him. But Mark, I want to give him a hug... everytime all the time!

And on we go with another recent catch for my eyes:

Phaya from The Sign

He is such a flirt and he makes it very clear that he likes Tharn and I love that for us. He is one of the people I want to be hold in their arms just like Tharn here. I can't wait for those two to finally give in to their feelings! And for the mystical plot to unfold itself more, because I really want to know what is going on! And I want those two to save each other.

The next one is called Papi Chulo on TikTok and I can see why:

Sailom from Wedding Plan

The series might not be the best one out there and Papi Chulo might be frustrating for some people, but I loved them both! Lom is such a treat and for most of the times I understand why he acted like he did. And after he came clean with Namnuea he was the best boyfriend/fiancé. And he has one of the best smiles out there and such a cute mole!

Closing this list with the one character I am going feral at the moment whenever he is on screen:

Prom from Playboyy

He has this pure lust in his eyes whenever he looks at Nont and I love it. I don't know if I would trust Prom, but be sure if this man wants to put on a mask and punish me in his basement I would let him... He is one of my guilty pleasures right now and I would watch the series just for him and his fucked up relationship with Nont.

This was fun! I am so late to the game, I am not tagging anyone, because I know many have done it already and I don't want to double tag :) But if you see this and want to do it yourself, feel free to make your own list and tag me, so I can have a look at your picks 😊

#tag game #tag bl game #multi bl #last twilight #only friends #a breeze of love #2 moons 2 #i feel you linger in the air #Kiss x Kiss x Kiss: Love ii Shower #love mechanics #the sign the series #wedding plan #playboyy

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mulderist · 3 years

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Wicked Game

Chapter 1 // Chapter 2 // Chapter 3 // Chapter 4 // Read on A03

Washington, D.C - 1948. Fox Mulder is a detective on the top vice unit; scandal, corruption, and lies come with the territory. He is forced to investigate a fellow officer and finds the lies go much deeper than the truth.

tagging @today-in-fic

CHAPTER 5

The phone rang three times before she answered. My jaw ached as I tried to mask the slur in my voice when I told her who was calling. I realized it was a long shot ringing her number but I needed something to get my head on straight. I told her I was in Georgetown and as luck would have it she did not have a shift at the hospital that evening. She accepted my invitation to have a drink. I confirmed her address and I said I would wait outside the building to meet her, adding to look for the forlorn gentleman with a grey fedora. We disconnected and I exited the booth then walked to the curb to hail a cab.

Scully’s apartment building was tucked into a quiet tree-lined block on Q Street. In a town built on history this neighborhood dripped vintage charm with neat colonial rowhouses and brick sidewalks. I paced a slow line in front of the staircase then stretched a foot on the bottom step. The sound of a door opening and heel clicks on brickwork caught my attention. There she was. A vision in a short-sleeved olive green sweater with a high neck, wide-leg trousers gave way to dark t-strap shoes that peeked out from under her pant cuffs. Her ginger-red hair was pinned up halfway and decorated with a small flower. I straightened up and tried to smile as she landed on the last step.

“God, what happened to you?” she questioned before I could even greet her properly.

“And hello to you too.” I replied.

“Oh, your cheek,” Scully frowned, “This reminds me of when we first met.” She inspected my face without laying a finger on me. I tipped back my hat slightly so she could get a better look. In the afternoon sun her eyes processed a diagnosis and she reached out a caring hand to touch my jawline but withdrew it quickly. Fingers formed a loose fist instead as her hand dropped slowly towards her hip. I cleared my throat.

“Serves me right for interrupting someone’s lunch, huh?”

“Must have been someone important for them to leave a mark like that,” Scully said, stepping back and adjusting her handbag. I shrugged then said,

“No, just me being a nosy cop.” I found myself staring as she smiled.

“So now that we’re here, where are we off to?”

“There’s a little place I visit when I’m in the neighborhood.” I slipped my hands in my pockets and gestured with a nod down the block. She joined me at my side and we strolled for a few silent moments. Her presence helped to mute the extra noise in my head. Though with each intersection we crossed I was still checking my corners, making sure we weren’t being followed. After the little scene I caused at the restaurant my guard was up. I knew I could never be too comfortable with my surroundings and I certainly didn’t want to put her in danger.

We walked farther down Q street and crossed over to 33rd to a small bar named The Blue Note. I opened the door for her and followed inside. It was your standard set-up with a small stage on the side arranged for a jazz combo. Too early for a gig, so the jukebox in the corner played the matinee performance. Regalia from the university littered the walls but in a more dignified fashion, like the proprietor was trying to distance the establishment from looking like a run-of-the-mill college bar. Still, it was dark, smoky, and my kind of familiar. Only a couple of bar flies had landed to start their day-drinking. I ushered her through a fresh haze of cigarette smoke to an empty spot at the far end of the bar. She took a seat and I adjusted my barstool, sitting close but not too close. Scully caught the attention of the stout bartender.

“I’d like a vodka tonic and my friend here will have?”

“Whiskey.”

The man nodded and scuttled back to fix our drinks. I put my fedora on the bar and ran a hand through my hair.

“Can you tell me about this case you’re working on?” Scully asked as she placed her handbag in her lap. I thought about how much I wanted to divulge so I kept the names and places to a minimum.

“It involves a drug ring, fairly standard for the vice unit. However the fly in the ointment is that it also involves an investigation into my partner.”

“Wait, the one who was buried at Arlington?”

“The very same,” I answered as the bartender delivered two short glasses. I grasped the drink and raised it, she mimicked the motion. “Cheers,” I said before taking a long sip and swirling the ice cube around. Scully sampled her drink as well and I continued.

“The papers painted it that he was killed in the line of duty. Now, I was there that night. It was the same night I got a hot lead kiss on the shoulder and I think my partner was bumped off in a deal that went sour.”

“Your partner was a hophead?” she asked as she twisted the bottom of her glass on the bar napkin.

“I didn’t suspect he was a hophead,” I said after I downed the last of my whiskey, “but the medical examiner ordered blood work that confirmed he was sky high.”

“Did you see who shot at you?” she asked after a beat, tracing a fingertip along the edge of the highball.

“No, but we did get a match on the weapon. So all I need to do is take him in .”

“Let me guess, that’s who gave you the bruise.”

“Very perceptive Scully. It was one of his goons actually.” I said as I rubbed my left cheek and glanced reflexively over my shoulder. She held her glass close to her lips and thought for a moment before taking another sip to finish it off. Scully pressed her lips together and focused on her now empty glass. I caught the change in music from the jukebox; a heavy piano piece that fit the tone in our little corner of the bar. I flagged the bartender and ordered another round. She was hesitant at first on the refill but I guess she didn’t mind my company and decided to stick around. Time seemed to slow to a halt, dripped down like molasses on a winter day.

“Enough about me and the DCPD, I want to know your story.”

“My story, Mulder? I don’t think I’m as interesting as all that,” Scully said as she glanced at her hands, admiring the tidy red varnish on the nails.

“Try me,” I replied as our second round arrived and my attention was now only on her.

“Let’s see...you already know I’m a nurse,” she began with a gesture, “I’ve been one since before the war. Schooling was no cost and once the conflict started I opted to stay home in Maryland to fill the nursing shortage. My brothers had gone through the gauntlet at the naval academy and were sent to San Diego then the South Pacific respectively. It would have broken my mother’s heart if I joined up and got shipped off too” She paused and took a drink. “My sister and mother stayed in Annapolis but in ‘45 I headed to Washington to continue with medicine. There was more I wanted to learn and more ways I felt I could help.”

“And that’s how you ended up in Georgetown?”

She nodded and softly exhaled.

“After I buried my father, I buried myself in studies, work, and other hobbies. I figured if I kept myself busy enough I wouldn’t have time to think about the loss.” Her shoulders shrugged and she absentmindedly toyed with a strand of hair then swept it behind her ear.

“Any travel in that time?” I asked, hoping she had an answer. I was shit at small talk when I wasn’t using my badge.

“California after the war ended to see my brother Bill and his family for Christmas, then last year I took the train up to New England for a change of scenery.”

“Ah, I’m familiar with that area. My parents live on Martha’s Vineyard.”

“It’s really lovely. I was fortunate to visit in the fall.” A hint of a smile crossed her lips as she recalled the memory. A pleasant silence then fell between us. More small talk followed, less personal this go around. Filler subjects like the weather and sports weaved their way into conversation. I was pleased to learn she was a baseball fan and was hoping for a better season than last year.

The bar was getting more clientele and as much as I wanted to stay and extend my friendship with Mr Jack Daniels, I figured we should make it last call. I paid our tab and escorted Scully outside, placing a featherweight touch on her shoulder as I guided her through the open door. The air felt cool as the sun hid behind passing clouds, setting up for another storm. She thanked me for the drinks and though she was a captain’s daughter who could certainly hold her liquor, I offered to walk her home.

As we turned the corner and walked back up the block I still felt that we weren’t alone. I kept a close stride next to Scully as we neared her building. She ascended the steps and I joined her at the door. This time her hand found my cheek.

“I hope to see you again,” she said as she gently stroked my jawline, “But next time without any occupational damage.”

“Can’t make any promises, doll,” I said moving closer, feeling her fingers twitch, catching a flutter of her eyelashes as she exhaled. My gaze was soft, hypnotized by her features. She grazed the stubble on my skin then Scully raised her chin and placed a soft sweet kiss on my injured cheek.

“Take care of yourself, detective.”

Through the narrow pane of glass on the building’s door I watched her walk up the stairs, she looked back over her shoulder giving me a final flash of that flower nestled against her red hair. As I turned and walked down the steps I noticed a car parked across the street and a man with a sharp suit and glasses leaning against the side.

“Are you following me?” I called out once I was on the sidewalk, my hand on the butt of my weapon.

“This is your surveillance detail?” Skinner questioned.

“Chivalry isn’t dead yet, Captain.”

“Something’s come up. Get in,” Skinner said as he motioned to the car. I walked around the front of the cruiser and opened the passenger door joining him inside.

“I heard about your incident with Carlo Lodi today.”

“Word travels fast.”

“You’re damn right it does, Mulder. This city is more connected than ever. I had a conversation with our friend Alex Krycek when he returned the squad car you lent him. Seems that he was privy to information regarding a Vincenti heroin shipment tonight.”

“Ha! What did you have to trade for that info?” I asked. He tensed his jaw then said,

“Continued protection. It appears he’s been sitting on this since we first interrogated him.”

“Jesus Christ.”

“There will be a boat arriving at the Navy Yard tonight. Small crew. They are going to make a transfer to one of the warehouses, but it’s up to you to find how they’re moving the shipment from there.”

I took a moment to process the details of my assignment.

“Will I have back-up?”

“Via radio. Do not engage after you make the mark. Follow standard tailing procedure.”

“If you’re going to send me on a suicide mission, can you at least drop me off in Alexandria. I could use a shower and something to eat.” Skinner gave me a sideways glance and turned the key in the ignition, bringing life to the cruiser. He shifted into gear and we were on our way back across the Potomac.

#i wrote this #historical au #mulder pov #xf fanfic #my fic #noir fiction #wip

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livesincerely · 4 years

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dress you up, dress you down ch.1 - dress you up

aka the Tie Fic. Also on Ao3

00000

“So. Davey.”

Davey pauses mid-sip. He looks at Katherine, then down at the cup of coffee in his hand—it’s the expensive kind, the kind that comes with milk and sugar, the kind that Davey would never dare buy for himself—then back up at Katherine, and realizes that he’s been tricked.

He sets his cup down with a heavy sigh. “What is it?”

To her credit, Katherine doesn’t even pretend to misunderstand. “Jack needs new clothes.”

Davey’s eyebrows shoot up.

“Okay...” he says after a moment of consideration. “Why does Jack need new clothes? We got him that art smock so he’d stop getting paint on his selling shirts and I haven’t noticed any rips or tears—“

“No, not his selling clothes,” Katherine interrupts. “I want to get him a few outfits that he can wear for his shifts in the art department. He keeps coming in wearing his Newsies cap and he showed up at my father’s office on Friday with a piece of tie-line holding his pants up instead of a belt.”

“He didn’t,” Davey says, though he doesn’t find it at all hard to believe, torn between laughter and exasperation.

“He really did,” Katherine says, the corners of her eyes crinkling up in amusement. “I’m sure a lot of it is just impertinence for impertinence’s sake—understandable after all that’s happened—and god knows it’s good to have someone around that won’t jump at my father’s every beck and call, but Davey,“ Katherine leans forward, her expression turning serious, “you get why things can’t continue on this way, don’t you?”

Davey takes a long drink of his coffee to give his thoughts a chance to settle. Because the thing is, Davey absolutely understands Katherine’s concern.

Jack’s new position at The World is a fantastic opportunity, especially for someone who wasn’t born with the privileges of a full education, a comfortable home, or family connections to ease his way in life. This job might just be a weekly political cartoon, but it has the potential to one day be so much more: the start of a life-long career, where Jack can do something he loves and get paid a fair wage to do it.

Jack’s hard working and smart and so incredibly talented, but he’s also stubborn as a mule and dead set against submitting to any kind of authority, even over something as simple as an office dress code. Pulitzer and the other managers in the art department might be willing to look over Jack’s apparel for now, but not forever—the last thing Davey wants is for Jack to get passed up for promotions, raises, and projects because he can’t dress the part.

“Yeah,” Davey finally says. “I get it. It’s a good idea, Kath.”

“Great!” Katherine exclaims. “So now we just have to convince Jack to let us pick out some business casual clothes for him; I was thinking we could spend tomorrow uptown, my tailor will be able to see us right away, I’m sure, and we can get Jack’s measurements taken and have him fitted for a few—“

“Wait, hold on,” Davey says, suddenly wrong-footed. “How did I become involved in this? It’s your idea!”

“But it’ll be easier to convince him if he hears it from both of us,” Katherine says. She’s hitting him with the wide-eyed, pouty, please-Davey-do-this-favor-for-me face. Joke’s on her: if Les and Sarah hadn’t already indoctrinated him against that face years ago, the last couple of months spent as the lone voice of reason amongst the chaos that is the Lower Manhattan Newsies would’ve done the trick. “And it would be helpful to have your opinion when he starts trying things on.”

“You mean, it’ll be helpful to have me there to take the fall if Jack hates the idea,” Davey says.

“Oh, sure, like Jack’s gonna be angry with you,” Katherine says, rolling her eyes.

Davey patently ignores this comment. “I mean, you clearly have a handle on the situation,” he continues, fingers drumming against the rim of his coffee cup. “I’m sure you don’t really need me to—“

“If you come with me to pitch this to Jack, I’ll make sure he leaves with a new set of suspenders,” Katherine says.

Davey blinks, his protests thoroughly derailed. Katherine knows him too well.

“I hate you,” he says, blowing out a breath. “Fine, I’ll go. But I’m telling you now, Jack’s not gonna be happy about this.”

“All we have to do is present a united front,” Katherine states with incredible confidence. “He can’t argue if it’s both of us.”

“No. Hell no,” Jack says when they approach him the next day. The two of them have been talking for all of five minutes and Katherine and Jack both look ready to throw punches. Davey’s relatively sure it won’t come to that, though honestly, his money’s on Katherine if it does.

“Jack, would you please just—“ Katherine gets out through clenched teeth.

“I said no, Kath! How many more times do you wanna hear it? No!”

Katherine throws Davey an exasperated look—one that says ‘for the love of God, talk some sense into him.’

“Jack,” Davey starts, taking a step closer to him. “I think you should let Kathy take you shopping for some new clothes.”

Jack whirls around to face him, his eyes dark with irritation. “Dave, just ‘cause I’m workin’ a desk gig don’t mean I need some fancy geddup to do my damn job—“

“Jack, no one’s saying you need to start showing up to The World dressed to the nines,” Davey says, “but don’t you think having a nice set of office clothes would get the other workers to treat you with more respect?”

“I shouldn’t hafta dress a certain way to get treated decent,” Jack says, and he still looks upset but he’s starting to settle down. “Havin’ money don’t make ya a better worker and being poor don’t make me an idiot.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Davey asks, running a hand soothingly along Jack’s shoulders until the tension there eases. “I’m not saying it’s fair, of course it’s not fair—but stuff like this never is. It’s about knowing the game and learning how to play it. Katherine and I just want to make sure you got a decent shot at it.”

Jack holds Davey’s gaze for a long moment, then the last of the fight drains out of him.

“Fine,” he huffs. “What exactly did the two of ya have in mind?”

00000

Katherine doesn’t give Jack the opportunity to reconsider. She drags them uptown to a little tailor’s shop with a neat, simple storefront, but whose glossy windows and brass finishes make it clear that this is a place that caters to the upper class.

The bell above the doorway chimes gently as they enter. The young woman behind the counter looks up from where she’s taking inventory and greets them with a smile; a moment later an older gentleman with a head of salt and pepper hair comes out of a back room, his arms open wide in welcome.

“Miss Katherine,” he exclaims, taking one of Kathy’s hands in his own and kissing the back of it. “How good it is to see you once more! And you have brought friends!”

“Good morning, Giovanni,” Katherine greets warmly. “This is David and this is Jack. Jack’s the latest hire in the art department—he works on political cartoons.”

“Jack… Kelly?” Giovanni asks. “Yes, I have seen your work! I very much enjoyed the cartoon with the little shoe shiner. Was very funny!”

Jack looks a little caught off guard—like he wants to dislike Giovanni on sheer principle, but is finding it difficult in the face of such an honest compliment.

“Uh... nice to meet ya,” Jack says.

“We’re looking to get Jack fitted for a few things,” Katherine explains. “Business casual, office wear. Do you have time to see us now?”

“Of course, Miss Katherine,” Giovanni says. “We will get this taken care of right away. Abigail!” The girl at the front counter scurries over. “Turn the sign on the door—we have a project and must not be disturbed!”

Giovanni has Jack stand on a small footstool towards the back of the store. He makes a slow circle around him—pulling a tape measure out of one of his apron pockets and whipping it to and fro—eyeing Jack critically and muttering rapidly to Abigail, who trails behind him dutifully taking notes.

For his part, Jack looks deeply uncomfortable with having such careful scrutiny trained on him. Davey tries to seem calm and reassuring but he’s not sure how successful he is: he’s feeling a bit out of his depth as well.

Finally, Giovanni steps back. “This is enough to start with,” he says, nodding decisively.

“What options can we look at right now?” Katherine asks, with a kind of intensity that Davey would be hard pressed to muster up over any clothing, no matter its quality. “Ideally we’d like to leave here with at least one full outfit.”

“We keep a selection of our most popular styles on hand for customers to try on before purchase,” Giovanni offers. “Would you like to begin with those? I can think of several that would flatter the young gentleman.”

Katherine smiles. “That sounds perfect.”

The two of them have a quick conversation about colors and cuts and fabrics that goes over Davey’s head, then Giovanni is bustling Jack into a changing area, his arms weighed down with bolts of cloth and a mouthful of stick pins. In the meantime, Abigail ushers Katherine and Davey over to a pair of cushioned stools set up next to a tri-fold mirror, ostensibly so they’ll have the best view from which to offer commentary and cast judgement.

Or, really, for Katherine to cast judgement. Davey suspects his main job will be mediating when the argument between ‘An Actual Heiress’ Kath and ‘the paint stains on this vest match my hat so it’s fine’ Jack inevitably breaks out.

They’ve not been waiting very long when Jack comes out of the fitting room to model the first outfit. Davey glances over when he hears the rustle of the curtain being pushed back and—

Oh.

Jack is wearing a navy blue button down with a pair of dark gray slacks and a matching vest. The colors and cuts aren’t that much different than his usual garb, but the way everything fits makes a whole world of difference. Oh good god, does everything fit.

Davey’s eyes bounce here and there, his brain unable to decide which part of the incredible sight to focus on. There’s the strong line of Jack’s shoulders, which look even broader than usual because of how the vest tapers in at the waist. Or how the fabric of the pants drapes nicely around Jack’s thighs, perfectly highlighting the toned muscle underneath.

Jack looks back to ask Giovanni a question. Davey’s eyes trail up the backs of his legs as he turns, then up over the curve of his ass—

Davey ducks his head to hide his burning face. Oh no.

“That looks great, Giovanni,” Katherine says. “How does it feel, Jack?”

“Like it’s too damn expensive,” Jack mutters. He’s standing strangely: holding his arms out from his sides like he’s trying his hardest not to touch the clothes even as he wears them. “I’m still not convinced that all this is necessary.”

“Do not start with me, Jack Kelly,” Katherine says, one eyebrow lifted. “Now honestly, what do you think?”

“Well... it fits,” Jack says lamely. “That’s all that matters, right?”

“Jack,” Katherine starts with a huff.

“I’m serious!” Jack says defensively. “I’m not tryin’ta get on ya nerves, Kath, but I dunno what else there is to say.”

Katherine considers him for a moment, then sighs, disappointed but accepting the answer. “Davey, what do you think.”

Davey’s throat works. He still sort of feels like someone’s hit him over the head, but he manages to say, “The gray is nice. You can match it with a bunch of different colored shirts.”

“Hmm...” Katherine hums, tilting her head to the side. “Simple, versatile... sure, we can make that work.”

“Versatile?” Jack whispers to Davey.

Davey gets caught between not staring at Jack and trying not to look like he’s avoiding staring at Jack; his gaze lands somewhere around Jack’s left ear. “She means colors like black and gray and navy and brown—stuff that goes with everything.”

“Right, okay,” Jack mutters to himself. “That don’t sound too bad.”

Another quick conversation between Giovanni and Katherine, then Jack’s back in the fitting room to try on a second option. As the curtain pulls shut, Davey feels himself let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

Katherine glances over at him and says, “Aren’t you glad you agreed to come with us?”

Davey’s blush had been fading, but it flairs up again with a vengeance. “You are the worst person.”

“I am the best person,” Katherine corrects. “I’m the reason you know what Jack looks like in pants that actually fit his waist—“

“Katherine,” Davey hisses, shoulders hunching in embarrassment.

“—and I saw you staring at his biceps. You’re welcome for that, by the way.”

“Katherine, oh my god—!”

Jack comes out again, this time in a black and white ensemble, and still looking far too handsome for someone who’s been safety pinned into his clothes.

“I like this, but it’s a little... plain.” Katherine says, mercifully distracted from tormenting Davey any further.

“And? What’s wrong with plain?” Jack grumbles. He moves as if to cross his arms across his chest, then seems to remember all the sharp pins sitting very close to his skin. He settles for tucking his hands in his pockets. “Plain works just fine for me.”

“It needs something to finish the look,” Kath muses, ignoring Jack completely. She looks at Giovanni and asks, “What sorts of ties do you have?”

“No. Absolutely not. Ya mighta talked me into a coupla shirts but ya ain’t gonna put me in no tie—“

“We have a fine selection, Miss Katherine,” Giovanni responds, joining Katherine in talking over Jack’s protests. “In fact, we just received a variety of silk ties in a number of colors. I will fetch the display—“

Jack’s eyes bug out a little when he hears the work silk, his mouth opening and closing soundlessly; Davey fairs only slightly better. Katherine and Giovanni don’t pay them any mind—examining the assortment of ties, weighing the pros and cons of each one, occasionally holding one up next to Jack’s face and frowning.

After a few more seconds of spluttering, Jack seems to come to terms with the fact that he’s leaving with a tie. He points at the array Giovanni has brought over and says, “What about that blue one?”

“You and your blue,” Katherine mutters, shaking her head. “How about something different for once? This silver one is nice. Or, how about this one, with the stripes—“

“If you’re gonna make me get a tie, you could at least let me pick it out,” Jack grumbles. “I like the blue one.”

“You can’t only wear blue, Jack,” Katherine says, a little testily. “You need to have different options.”

“Don’t seem so important to me,” Jack says with a shrug. “Blue’s a good color: it don’t stain too easy, it’s versatile.” His eyes dart briefly to Davey, and then away again. “And it’s my favorite.”

“Be that as it may, I still think you should choose something else—“

“Jeeze, why does it matter so much—“

“The red one,” Davey blurts out, and given that he hadn’t meant to say anything at all, it comes out much louder than he’d intended it to.

Katherine and Jack halt their bickering and they all turn to look at him. Davey regrets opening his mouth.

He swallows, then awkwardly continues, “You should try the red one. It looks nice—red is a nice color, I mean. You’d look good in it, or it’d look good on you. Either, really, I guess. And, um... yeah.”

“Uh, okay,” Jack says when Davey trails off. “Sure, let’s try the red one.”

Giovanni slips the tie around Jack’s neck and knots it for him with professional ease. Jack flips his collar back down, then tucks the ends hesitantly under his vest. He stares at himself in the mirror, twisting and turning as he checks himself over from all the different angles.

It looks nice. Better than nice, actually. Maybe even incredible. Davey tugs at the collar of his own shirt, suddenly feeling overheated.

“Yeah, that’s the one,” Katherine declares. She’s not even looking at Jack, instead she’s watching Davey for his reaction. She pins him with a knowing smirk, and Davey blushes even harder, privately wishing for a nice, cozy sinkhole to open up beneath him and put him out of his misery.

“I dunno,” Jack murmurs dubiously, not noticing the exchange. “What do you think, Dave? Does it live up to your expectations?”

Davey really wishes Jack would stop asking for his opinion. He already feels like he’s suffocating—Jack could at least do him the courtesy of letting him die unharassed.

“...I think it looks good,” Davey mutters into the floor.

Jack does another turn. “I still think the blue one woulda been nice...”

“Get the tie,” Katherine orders.

“But—“

“Get the tie before I stab you with these fabric scissors.”

Jack ends up leaving with two vest-and-pants combinations, one in black and one in gray, four dress shirts in various colors, the promised suspenders, a new pair of shoes, and the red silk tie. Katherine leaves with an incredibly satisfied expression and Davey leaves with significantly elevated blood pressure.

As they walk back home, Katherine says, “So do you want me to hold on to everything, or do you want Davey to?”

“What?” Jack asks.

“Who do you want to keep your new clothes, me or Davey?” Katherine repeats.

Jack and Davey stare at her, not grasping her meaning.

“You don’t have anywhere to keep them at the Lodging House, and I would say you could see if Medda would let you keep them at the theater but I know they wouldn’t last the day before they were covered in paint,” Katherine explains. “So? Me or Davey?”

“I guess I’ll have Davey keep ‘em for me, if that’s okay,” Jack decides, glancing at Davey for permission. “Probably easier that way.”

“Um, sure, that’s fine,” Davey says, taking the garment bag when Jack hands it to him. “You can get changed at mine, and we can clean and press them for you too.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Jack agrees. “I’ll just pop over before my shift tomorrow, yeah?”

Davey imagines tomorrow, imagines trying to deal with Jack in a suit and tie first thing in the morning, and can feel his expression start to falter. “Sounds good,” he says weakly.

00000

Chapter two here

#newsies #javid #Jack Kelly #davey jacobs #*the writing desk #*final cut #*editor's note #the tie fic #tease series #this was not supposed to be this long #but im really happy with how it turned out

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keeper-of-the-lilacs · 5 years

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Dresses & Things

(( Warning: transphobia – it’s vague, but it’s there. Hyacinth is referred to as a ‘he’ only because at this point in the story she hasn’t figured herself out yet. After this write, she/her pronouns are used. ))

“Haven’t ye outgrown dresses yet, Cinthie?”

Gelert, the gardener’s son, gave a skeptical glance to the youngest son of their lord Delacroix, who was peering down at himself with owlish purple eyes. Tiny fingers picked nervously at the front of the bright blue dress he was in, full of lacey bits that went above his ankles. The boys were ten and eight respectively, playing under the shade of a great oak by the back of the garden.

Hyacinth peered with his large, downturned eyes up at Gelert, giving the older boy an immediate pang of guilt: “…I’m not pretty?” Hyacinth gnawed on his lower lip. “I…Iris made this for me…”

“No,” Gelert backtracked, rolling his eyes. “Ye very pretty–don’t cry, ye ninny, hush up.” Dirt-caked hands from working by his da this morning plapped at the younger Elezen’s cheeks, who was already beginning to sniffle. Truth be told, he was just irritated that Hyacinth got nice clothes; the lowborn Hyur was always left to his dirty overalls, except on days to worship the Twelve or at funerals. Hyacinth always got to wear pretty things, even if dresses for boys were only for when they were toddlers.

He did look cute. It was annoying.

“If ye cry,” Gelert grumbled, still mushing Hyacinth’s sad-eyed face until he had fish lips, “then your hellion of an older brother is gonna blame me and m'gonna get walloped by him.”

Hyacinth tried to appear sorry, pulling at Gelert’s hands, but it was a futile effort when his upset feelings were breaking into a small smile. “Last time was because you burned my books.”

“You don’t even like those books!"

"They were decorum books and Missus Abernathy had me punished cause she thought I was lying.”

Gelert frowned. And then he released Hyacinth’s face, who goodnaturedly rubbed at the dirt now flecked on the chubby, pale cheeks. “Yea, I'm…sorry about that part.”

Hyacinth lifted his shoulders, oblivious and happy to use a gesture that would send that wicked Mrs Abernathy into fits. “It’s okay. But that’s why Jack got mad at you.”

“Yea, well, your brother is a demon.” Gelert rubbed the back of his head, his hair as brown as the dirt he got into it. He glanced to the nearby garden maze walls, to the flower beds he had just worked on in preparation for the trellis the Viscountess desired to have there. When the jingle of mithril links and heavy boots suddenly struck his ears, however, he snapped his attention back to Hyacinth and began shoving him behind the tree.

“Get, get!"

"Wh…Wha?” Hyacinth was back to that owlish look, confused. And not moving nearly fast enough behind the tree for Gelert’s liking.

“Sir Bastille is here, ninny, he’ll–"

An Elezen man, straight-backed in worn but well-kept chain mail, suddenly appeared around the outside of the hedge maze with a severe gaze, the same silver as his hair.

"Master Hyacinth,” his voice drawled, sharp and low like the drag of a sword being drawn. His eyes snapped to Gelert, who tensed beneath it with an untrusting leer of his own; he was, after all, what stood between the man and the second son of the manor’s lord. “Cowering behind the gardener’s son, when you should be in the Green Hall for your fencing lessons. How predictable.”

Hyacinth shrank behind his friend, clutching at his shirt sleeve and shaking like a leaf. The older Elezen terrified him, his judgments as swift as the punishing lashes and hits he gave to the boy when his form was poor. “A…Apologies, Ser Bastille. I–"

"Pray,” interjected the man, who flapped his hand dismissively towards the manor behind him. “Cease your excuses for your distractions with the servants. Your lessons began an hour ago. The spoiled child that you are, you have forgotten them in favor of rolling in the dirt with commoner ilk.”

Ear tips and eyes burning, Hyacinth ducked his head. Gelert was sneering at the Ser, who deigned not even to glance again at the boy as he spoke of him as if he was trash. He looked at Hyacinth as the boy gave a small hiccup sound, but Hyacinth released Gelert, hurrying in a wide berth around Ser Bastille.

“Yes, Ser Bastille,” mumbled in fear and pain the scared young lord, disappearing around the hedge. Gelert didn’t imagine or miss the look of disgust as Ser Bastille caught the last bit of blue lace before it was gone. His hands closed into fists as the older gentleman of Ishgard sniffed and finally gave actual regard to the tall boy.

“You’d do best to remember your place, boy.”

Gelert was always getting in trouble for his mouth. His da, calm and gentle man that he was, laughed and blamed his mother, Twelve rests her soul. It was hard to control it, but he did around the lord and lady of the house because they were good nobles. And he controlled it around their demon of an heir, because of the walloping the man would deliver should he be overheard. For that, the boy nearly respected the infamous Jacques ‘Jack’ Delacroix.

This Ser Bastille was just a chevalier, a 'noble’ as common as him but with years in active service to rise him in status. He might be a friend to the lord of the manor, but to the loyal servants, he was no one. And yet–

“Playing games with a second son,” the gentleman continued, tongue lashing, “who is meant for the clergy or knighthood, when he has some proper discipline and ceases being such a sniveling runt in those ridiculous dresses–"

And yet–

”–Twelve help us if anything should happen to our lord’s son, though that is quite within the realm of possibility with his carriage racing and the disreputable bastards he takes up with. Gods preserve, the Viscount does humor his spoiled sons.“

The man turned his back to Gelert and he couldn’t take it anymore. He had to stick up for his lord, at the very least. A friend to his father when Gelert’s mom died. A good man who treated them fairly.

And Hyacinth just wanted to wear the dress his sister had made him.

Gelert opened his mouth–

"For fuck’s sake, old man, I’m trying to nurse a hells’ damned hangover here, and your peevish voice is like the cloy of a rake’s fornications with a chalkboard.”

–and then Gelert closed his mouth, perplexed. That wasn’t his voice. That sounded like the voice before a thrashing from the Viscount’s son.

And indeed, apparently, it was the Viscount’s son who had spoken. Or rather, growled. He was suddenly there a yalm or two away in the stone alcove at the edge of the garden, with leaves sticking out of his thick, curly black hair and a black scowl painted on his dark face. The Duskwight noble, a gangly teenager of already imposing height, straightened the lapel of his jacket while the man of martial teachings visibly reeled at the surprise of being caught venting his vexations. Gelert had the pleasure of watching the accursed old man sputter stiffly on apologies, but kept his eye on Jack. Who knew what the mad son of Delacroix’s name would do?

No sooner had Gelert had an inkling to keep an eye on Jack, Jack acted. Those long legs deftly leaped over the stone edge of the tiny sitting area and Gelert moved just in time from the lord son’s wake to miss being trampled by the prowling march to Ser Bastille. The man of military leaned back with a bitten back look of horror, as the taller youth grinned in his face, all teeth, and hissed at him in less-than-benign speech.

“But pray go on, Ser Bastille the loose-tongued, I seem to have caught you in the middle of beseeching the Twelve. What about dearest father and his milksops for sons, hm? What about his heir? HM?"

"N-Now, Master Delacroix, really, I–"

Jack lurched a few inches forward, teeth bared like a crocodile’s. "It’d be in your best interest, my dear chevalier, to keep your nasty little opinions to yourself. Perhaps pick on someone your own size and age, Ser Bastille, instead of picking on the children of the common ilk in the middle of the bloody garden like some drunken clout.”

Ser Bastille was visibly coloring. Gelert’s eyes were the size of dishes.

Jack jerked his chin, voice slipping soft. “It is mildly suggested, good Ser, that you vacate this garden while you still have a job, and are not still in the Brume where father found your sorry arse. Because father might be a forgiving, mild man, but I’m not one to hear tongue lashing about my dearest siblings in my presence, and you know bloody well what happened to Violet’s last fiance to prove that.”

The color drained from Ser Bastille’s face. Gelert watched as the man muttered some horrified excuse to leave, then quickly turned on his heels. As he left, Jack held a hand to his mouth and called: “And if I find any more welts on my sweet little brother’s legs and arms, Ser, you’ll be packing your bags…and praying that the Brume is far enough from me.”

Ser Bastille was quickly gone. Gelert, eyes now on Jack, stood perfectly still as the older young man held his hands on his hips and sneered at where the older man had disappeared. A few muttered curses later about the old 'windbag’ and Jack finally regarded Gelert, who gave an intelligent 'uh’.

Jack sniffed and gave an imposing point of his finger. “Don’t burn his books, sprout.”

“…Fine.” Gelert forced his shoulders to unstiffen, jaw jutting out at the older boy. He refused to show he was scared, even if he still did in his obvious suspicion of Jack, legs bunched and ready to bolt at a moment’s notice.

For his gall, he got a grin, brilliant white in the ash-grey face of the noble’s son. And then Jack sauntered out of the garden, whistling a bawdy bar tune under his breath.

Gelert waited for a bit in the garden. Then, instead of looking for his da like a good gardener’s son, he headed off for the window of the Green Hall’s room, to watch Hyacinth’s lessons. After all, where would he be without Gelert’s secret tips in the garden?

#writings

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mysticmessingupmylife · 7 years

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The RFA meeting huggable and chubby!MC for the first time

Yoosung

Bby was v ( triggered )excited to see you at the party

When he looked for you, he saw a cute, curvy girl in a red dress talking to Jaehee

All the other RFA members were busy so he couldn’t ask them if they had seen you, so despite his shyness towards new people (especially cute girls) he walked to the two of you to ask Jaehee

“Hey, have you seen MC? I’m not even sure what she looks like so I’m kinda having troubles here”

Jaehee looked at the cute girl next to her and nodded, then said “yeah, I’ve seen her”

“Where is she? I want to meet her!” Yoosung ily but you’re so oblivious

The cute girl blushed and said “you already have”

Are you his MC

You look so soft and pure

And now you are getting crushed in his arms

“MC I’m sorry I didn’t recognise you you’re so pretty wow I love you”

He didn’t care about a few extra pounds, he was already excited for all the cuddles!

Blushing the entire evening because he loved the way the dress fit you You can not convince me that Yoosung would not be obsessed with your boobs okay

Zen

Was feeling really down after the whole Echo Girl/ankle sprain thing

Excited about meeting you but high-key worried about you visiting him this late bc of The Beast ™

When you knocked on the front door and anxiously pulled at your sweater, he saw you through the peephole in the door

hOW CAN SOMEONE LOOK THAT CUTE

He quickly opened the door and hugged you tight, muttering how glad he was that you’re safe and with him

He doesn’t care too much about looks, he fell in love with your personality after all so he would think you were pretty anyways but those curves tho

Did you say body worshipping?

You better expect getting showered in compliments and hearing soft whimpers from him controlling his beast all evening from pinning you against a wall and squeezing every part of you

Because you forgot your pyjamas and he was not letting you sleep without clothes or in the ones you are wearing, you had to borrow one of his shirts and sweatpants

“But Zen you’re literally half of my size that won’t fit” “Shhh just try, a gentleman won’t let his lady go to bed without comfortable clothes”

The clothes fit, but really tightly, hugging your curves

Zen had to go outside and calm down to not ravish you right then and there

Jaehee

She was never one for physical contact

But when this really cute girl walked up to her at the party and revealed that she was the one who had provided her with so much support, she couldn’t help but hug her

Baehee secretly loves hugs! And you’re cute and huggable!

She was just happy that you weren’t as thin as her, that meant you took care of yourself and wasn’t so busy that you constantly skipped meals

Kept sneaking glances at you the entire evening bc “yes that’s my girlfriend best friend and she is so pretty”

Jumin

Let’s be real he had shamelessly been checking you out since the moment you arrived in his penthouse

He wasn’t used to seeing women who weren’t stick thin and fake, so he was all for your natural curves (you had an attractive face and body in addition to your personality, what a pleasant suprise)

“Am I making you uncomftorable?” he asked when you caught him staring for the nth time and blushed, but smirked when you just shook your head

Respected your boundaries and restrained himself to a few pecks on your cheek, as he wouldn’t be able to stop if he did anything else daddy Jumin

Just like Jaehee, not very big with hugs and cuddles before he met you (unless you count Elizabth the 3rd) but now! He loved it when you hugged him from behind when he had to bring work home

Salty af bc Elizabeth prefered cuddling with you

707

He had seen you before on the cameras and background check so he knew that you were on the heavier side, but he didn’t mind at all

He has probably already jacked off to you a few times, js

“She is still eating healthier than me, she is just unlucky and has bad metabolism so as long as she is happy, I don’t care”

Despite acting like he didn’t have a crush on you, he was really looking forward to seeing you in person! Defenders of Justice also need hugs ;-;

Tried his best to act platonic and/or ignoring you but his need for constantly touching you kind of gave it away

When you finally convinced him to at least bring his laptop to the living room so he could sit in the couch with you while working, you leaned your head on his shoulder

He gave in, wrapped his arms around you, kissed your forehead and simply held you for a few minutes before returning to work

~ jane

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klancefanwithfeelings · 5 years

Text

Klance fic (should I continue with it?)

Dog dad seeks same

“Do you think Kosmo gets lonely?” Lance traced a finger over the rim of his cocoa mug. They were sitting on Lance’s porch, just watching the sunset. Kosmo was gnawing at a particularly hard rissole by their feet that Lance had kind-of overcooked, too busy arguing with Keith. The little happy growls and wet smack of lips on meat sounded gross, but Keith was watching his cosmic wolf with a soft, proud look.

Keith’s eyebrows furrowed hard at the question. He seemed to be chewing it over with the same intensity that Kosmo was decimating his burger. “Of course, he does. Didn’t you hear me over the comms on the way home to Allura? He needs company. Otherwise he gets a bit—

“Chewy?”

“Destructive.” Keith leaned down, hand gently carding its way through Kosmo’s thick fur. Kosmo stopped chewing to turn his upper body to face him, muzzle nuzzling into his palm with his eyes closed in utter bliss. Keith’s face was almost mirroring his wolf as he rubbed behind his ear. “Why are you asking?”

Lance took in the gentle sight and blundered. Scratched his cheek. “No-no reason.”

Keith dropped his hand, much to Kosmo’s displeasure who tried to lift it with his nose back into the doing the good scratchies. He turned to Lance with a look of utter horror. “Has he said anything to you?”

“No! What—Keith? No! No talking space wolf here. Just, curiosity.”

Keith narrowed his eyes. The scar on his cheek caught the porch-light and looked like pure scalding flame. “And what’s prompted this curiosity?”

“And what’s prompted this intensity? Buddy, Keith, in all our years at space I’ve just never seen another wolf like Kosmo. I was just wondering if there were any other tamed teleporting cosmic wonder wolves around that would be up for a doggy meet-and-greet. Has your mu—has Krolia said anything to you? About his species?”

“Just that he’s a cosmic wolf. And that he seems to like me.” Keith leaned back into the bench seat, looking up at the moths as they were attracted into their own demise with a pained ‘zap’ of the light. He winced. “And that he makes for a delightful pillow, now that he’s bigger.”

Lance snorted the rest of his chocolate milk through his nose at the image of the large, intimidatingly serious Galra woman cushioned into the warm folds of Kosmo’s fur in-between missions.

Keith blinked at him, cocking his head in question. Lance wished he hadn’t gone back to drink more as Kosmo mirrored the adorable expression and thus more hot milk wound up on the floorboards.

Keith tsk-ed a chuckle, which grew as he took in the utterly mortified look on Lance’s face and his drenched shirt. “I know why I’m laughing, but why are you laughing?”

“Just,” Lance gestured vaguely at the air. “Your mum doesn’t strike me as the cuddly type.”

Keith bristled and Lance sighed, motioning with his hands to calm down. “It’s just nice to get an extra side for her. We don’t—I haven’t heard much from her. She’s always struck me as intimidating, so it’s nice to know she has a softer side.”

Keith sat up and scowled. Kosmo rolled over for belly rubs which were generously given. “Where do you think I get it from.”

Lance shrugged. “Your own lifelong sweetness?”

Keith stared him down until Lance cracked. “Has she taught him any tricks? She seems like she knows how to teach discipline.”

Keith shook his head. “She is a good leader and teacher,” there was a sadness to his gaze, as if imagining the lost years they had. “But Kosmo only really listens to me. Even then, it’s more of a partnership than anything.” Keith—he pouted. He full on pouted and Lance felt his heart pinch out a little ‘aww.’ “He doesn’t even play fetch with me.”

“Really?” Lance blinked. “Well, maybe he just needs a bit of ol’ Lancey-Lance’s training expertise.”

“You, an expert dog trainer?” Keith snorted. “Next you’ll be saying you can herd kittens.”

Lance scowled. “It’s a very important intrinsic skill, Keith. Don’t mock my kitten herding. It’s what Blue responded to, clearly.”

Keith shook his head, his bangs falling into tussled disarray. “Clearly.”

“Hey, I trained Kaltenecker to moo on command. Ask Pidge. She can even moo out an old Altean melody. Got her to sing it when Allura was over last time from New Altea. She loved it. Don’t knock my skills.”

A sobered Keith was a worryingly quiet Keith. “How are you guys—

“We’re still good friends,” Lance replied curtly. “And she’s still the best lady.”

Keith rubbed the back of his neck under his mullet—it’s not a mullet, Lance, Keith’s voice said in his head—and sighed. “So like, do you have a stick available, or?”

Lance blinked at him. Slowly. “There are so many trees around. Worst comes to worst, we can snap off a smaller branch, and Kos-mo-mo can have a wonderful time chasing sticks. Isn’t that right, boy?” He turned to the wolf, who looked up at him with its big black and gold eyes, blinked, wagged his tail weakly, and then slumped his head back into his curled up body.

“I think he’s a little tired. That last mission took a lot out of him.”

“What happened?”

“A township on the planet we were on got stuck in a flood, deprived of resources. Kosmo,” Keith rubbed that delicate indent in-between his eyes with the tips of his fingers and Kosmo let out a yodelling happy aroo. “Was called onto the scene to bring them to the other side. On top of that, we had to do a lot of food distribution. Wasn’t too strenuous, but I think he must be feeling the effects of the teleportation now.”

Kosmo gazed up at Keith with utter respect and loving and seemed to nod. The understanding between the pair would have been uncanny, but Lance had seen much stranger things than a near-sentient teleporting wolf.

Lance whispered in pure awe. “He really is the best boy,” and dived into his back fur.

Keith smiled fondly, the scene filling him with nothing but love.

Buried in the long ruff fur of cobalt blue, Lance felt surrounded by warmth and dog smell. It reminded him of his own childhood, playing on the beach with his yippy Jack Russell who would always slyly trip him up so he could lick his face. He buried his face deeper, giving Kosmo’s back little fake kisses. “I love him so much.”

“Me too,” Keith said, walls down. He put his finished cocoa down, having regularly sipped it during Lance’s antics.

“He’s such a good boy, the best boy, the biggest boy. More Clydesdale horse than dog at this point, right buddy?”

The utterly blissed out Kosmo huffed a bark, his backfoot twitching as Lance found an itchy spot on his shoulder to rub. Keith looked between them, appreciating the symmetry of the dark slate-blue of Lance’s eyes against Kosmo’s darker fur.

“He is the best boy.”

Lance smiled up at Keith, looking up as he was at knee level, lying on his ex-rival’s dog’s back. “How old is he now? Six?”

“Eight,” Keith corrected. “Had him since he was a puppy. Believe it or not, he used to be smaller than Pidge.”

Lance gasped. “I don’t believe it! He was never gremlin-sized! And I can’t believe what a regal and esteemed old gentleman he is. Can’t believe it’s been that long since we lost the Lions.”

“Since we beat Honerva, you mean?”

“Eh, I focus on the important parts. Miss my girl Blue. And our boy, Red.”

Keith sighed. “Me too. He’s—he’s still out there, you know? Allura says he’s woven into the fabric of reality.”

“Quilted Lion corpse sky? Morbid.”

“No but like—” Keith closed off again, pulling at his long hair. “Can’t you feel them? I wake up to flashes of red and black sometimes. Images of time long passed that aren’t my own memories, but the Lion’s. Yellow eyes, that aren’t just the Galra who tried to cut us down. Shiro and Hunk said they both feel it. Do you?”

Lance’s tongue felt dry and heavy in his mouth. “Sometimes. Or a warm, comforting purr from Blue. Telling me everything’s going to be okay. That I’m a good flight instructor. A good seasonal farmer. That I should stop being so hard on myself.”

“I used to think you were so arrogant. That you could be knocked down a peg or two. But she’s honestly right.”

“Says the guy who works himself to exhaustion every day.”

Keith shrugged. “I’m just saying.”

“Yeah,” Lance breathed and looked out across the night sky. It was a thick navy blue, freckled with stars. A shooting star slashed open the sky like a scar, fading as it went. In the distance, he swore he could see flickering blues and reds, the red star bursting bright as a sun. Their lion. “Do you think Red’s watching over us?”

Keith snorted. “I’m not religious.”

Lance gasped. “Neither. But magic space cats kind of defy the usual parameters.”

Keith had that faraway, dreamy look again. It reminded him of their last day on Earth all those years ago, sitting on top of black, watching the sunset and not knowing if they would ever see it again. The uncertainty was both frightening and beautiful, and had left them both feeling vulnerable. “I like to think so.”

Lance flopped his head back into Kosmo’s fur. The wolf’s heartbeat was constant as clockwork. The furry body radiated heat like the Castle of Lions many processing units. Lance’s hand drifted through fur, feeling the muscles shifting beneath. He counted hairs for a distraction. “Getting some grey hairs there, Kosmo.”

Keith sat up in alarm. “What?”

“Here, see?” Lance pointed at one, then another. The more he looked, the more they seemed to multiply. Kosmo snorted in disgust at Lance’s accusations of age.

Keith found his hands shaking by his side. “Maybe I should ask Krolia just how old space wolves live for.”

Lance looked up at him in alarm. Taking in his friend’s distress, he spoke softly and calmly. “Keith, buddy, he’s in the prime of his life. Teleports like a champion, runs like an Olympic athlete. Heck, it wouldn’t surprise me if he was immortal. Space canine and all. He’s in no pain at all. Heck, my bones creak more than his do and I’m a sprite twenty-four. It’s all good.” He gave Keith puppy dog eyes that Kosmo looked up and imitated.

Keith worried a hand through his hair again. “Maybe I should look for a playmate for him, though? Another wolf that speaks his language and can teleport, too. Maybe I’ve been selfish not looking before.”

“Keith, it’s not every day that a teleporting wolf appears in the universe. I think you were lucky just to meet Kosmo. It’s not selfish to be a good friend to him when you don’t know where any others roam.”

“Maybe I should set out a personal ad. See if anyone across the galaxy has a laid-back one like Kosmo.”

“Single dog dad seeks same?” Lance said with a leer. “Get yourself a man out of it too.”

The tips of Keith’s ears went red, a tell that Lance had gotten under his skin. “Not like that! I’ve got no time for romance.”

“Only time for Kosmo and work?” Lance chuckled, ignoring Keith’s ‘I’m here with you now, aren’t I.’ “Relax buddy. What could possibly go wrong?”

Keith looked at him in disbelief.

As it turned out, everything.

#klance

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russellthornton · 7 years

Text

How to Be Attractive to Women: Be a Cut Above All Other Guys

We all want to get the girl – that’s human nature. So why does it seem like some guys seem to have all the luck? Here’s how to be attractive to women.

A woman will be half-sure about most of the men that court her, and so she will dangle them on a hook. Why? Because she’s waiting for that one person, the ultimate prize, that one man who stands out because he’s just a little too good for her and a cut above every other guy in her life.

A woman’s value versus a man’s

First, know a woman’s self-worth is fanned by social media, femme-centric society, and good old-fashioned narcissism that comes with being the more desirable sex. So generally in society, a man’s sexuality is deemed lower in worth than a female’s and is worshpped to a far lesser degree.

For example, a guy is said to ‘get lucky’ when he’s successful with a woman. A guy could be a millionaire, jacked, super-intelligent, but if there is a drunken hot girl dancing crazily with her hot friend in a club, in that environment she has 10-times as much value as he does.

Of course, value is in the eye of the beholder and all humans are equal regardless of sex. But… ask yourself, when was the last time you saw a man’s torso used to sell a travel ad? Perhaps a few, but it’s hard to think of, right? On the other hand, females are beautiful goddesses; their image can be used to sell anything, from an Oral-B toothbrush to the shores of Waikiki.

I wouldn’t pay the same for a toothbrush if it had a picture of man half-naked on it. So we get it – beauty, flowers embodied; women are to be looked at, enjoyed, and worshiped. [Read: Why men can’t resist women and their oh-so-hot bodies]

Here’s how to be attractive to women

If you want to know how to be attractive to women, the number one thing to remember, however, in order to be a cut above other men in her life, is this: believe you ARE the prize.

It’s tempting to be average and humble. To stand out less, to try to fit in more. Overall, that approach feels easier.

But the man who’s a cut above other men doesn’t do average. He’s noticeable for the very reason that he goes so far above and beyond. He’s the ultimate prize. Other men are jealous of him. Women compete over him. [Read: 23 hacks to be a lot more attractive to women instantly]

Let’s think… George Clooney.

Now, as a men’s dating coach, I know a few things about attracting females. And I can say, without smirking, that many of the actors we watch in movies possess a lot of the real character traits that men who are a ‘cut above’ also possess.

George Clooney is undeniably a cut above most other men and obviously knows how to be attractive to women. The ‘age-old’ joke about him was that he’s too in love with himself to settle down with a woman. For the longest time he didn’t get married – an incorrigible yet IN-DEMAND bachelor.

It’s very difficult to fake certain behaviors. And girls are very good at screening out men pretending to be greater than they feel inside. But Clooney really is the prize. This is why he can believably play ‘the top 1%’ male character type in movies.

Clooney is a good example of been the prized man that women HOPE to lock down. They’ll literally abandon other guys by the roadside for the chance to be his Number One Squeeze.

We can break down how to be a cut above other men by listing a few things. First, ask yourself the question: what do you imagine when you think of George Clooney? [Read: 25 things that make a man attractive to women]

Let’s list them out.

#1 A self-confidence that oozes out of every expression and word. Confidence, confidence, confidence is key if you want to know how to be attractive to women. It’s funny, no matter how many times we guys hear that women love a guy with self-confidence, we forget it.

We instead say too much in order to try and impress, doubt ourselves, and consider how girls might want us to act rather than being ourselves. Connecting with a girl from a position of self-doubt is a major turn off… all wrong. The angle’s way off!

So how do we transform self-doubt into rock-steady smooth confidence? [Read: The subtle differences between a confident and an arrogant man]

First, pursue mastery.

Notice that George Clooney’s able to play Danny Ocean in Ocean’s 11 – a character leading the heist of a bustling, ultra-secure Las Vegas casino. That takes skill goddamned it! If you’re not the best at something, aim to be. Be the best or be average.

This means: reading books, taking workshops, investing in yourself by spending an amount of money on training that makes you feel slightly nauseous. This will pay major dividends over time. Finding the right mentors early on puts you on the path to mastery far faster than if you were to go it alone. [Read: How to be a better man using the right role model]

Next, still your mind, yet take ‘reckless’ action.

It’s hard to overstate the importance of this key point when learning how to be attractive to women. When things go wrong, and they always go wrong at some point, Clooney seems relaxed and finds solutions, not fuel for the fire. He cranks up his boldness, but never seems to panic.

Ways of stilling the mind include: mindfulness meditation, daily exercise, and proper diet. It’s worth doing these boring basics because when you look into her eyes, you’ll have the icy warm look of someone who doesn’t give a fuck.

When you get the girl, she’ll have the impression that you were perfectly willing to be rejected, but that you went for it anyway. [Read: Why can’t I get a girlfriend? 25 mistakes that ruin your chances]

Now, make a decision… any decision will do.

We don’t always know the right decision, but self-confidence means that we trust ourselves to make A decision, even if it’s a decision to take inaction.

Men who are a cut above know where they’re going. They know what they value, and so they act from this space. They’re willing to make wrong decisions and learn from mistakes. Women can’t stand a guy who doesn’t know whether he’s coming or going. So make a decision and commit to it. Good enough is way better than perfect. [Read: 15 traits that’ll make you the perfect boyfriend material]

#2 Leadership qualities, in charge, other men follow him. Simon Sinek, a thought-leader on leadership *pun not intended*, states the one prerequisite all leaders have in common is courage. And we can’t be courageous just for ourselves. We need to have a tribe we belong to and are being courageous for.

Women also love a man who is respected by other men because it suggests he has high status. This will naturally make her feel more protected by him. Here are 2 ways to use courage to improve your tribal status:

– Build a social network where you regularly plan activities: nights out, road trips, movie nights…

– Form a social circle with only males, to show you can relate to the masculine. Also form circles that are mixed-sex, which will ironically give you more opportunities to meet women *women in those circles will see that you are popular and be attracted to you*. [Read: How to be dominant – 15 firm and calm ways to be the real alpha]

Men respect courage.

So look for opportunities to be unexpectedly bold. When it would be easier to back down, crank it up when it really matters. This doesn’t mean picking unnecessary fights, it means standing up for what you believe in, being willing to stick up for a friend, and more willing to be vulnerable than others.

Other ways of doing this could be to: put yourself on the line by planning activities where perhaps few people might show up, not giving up with building social circles, and leading from the front not the back. [Read: How to get any girl to like you – 18 secrets to impress any girl]

When you have a social circle you love and are respected in, you will naturally have more energy about you. You will know how to be attractive to women – even more than other men in her life with less status and belonging. You’ll be less insecure. Whenever she pushes you to test your confidence, you’ll have enough core self-belief, because you feel loved and supported by your tribe.

Now, some final, MAJOR ‘Cut Above’ pointers…

#3 Fully entitled to her. Don’t assume she’ll give you permission to be entitled to her – you must assume it.

The single most important reason why a girl does not buy into your approach is that you don’t really believe you can get her, or that you even deserve her. As long as you believe she’s better than you, you have no chance.

Brainwash yourself until you believe it. Tell yourself you’re ‘the shit.’ Focus on your strengths and on your desire for her, not on your weaknesses.

#4 Talking to her emotions. If she’s reacting to what you say and do, then you’re still in the game. You really need to remember this one when you’re figuring out how to be attractive to women.

One moment you could be talking to her, and mid-sentence lean in and kiss her. Why? Because it’s not so much about what you say logically, it’s about how you say it, and how it makes her feel.

The emotional state she’s in determines what next move you can make. She will appreciate you massively if you have an understanding of her emotions. Learn to stroke them, to understand them, and use them to direct events skilfully.

If you want to know how to be attractive to women, take an interest in chick-lit, romance movies, and the types of things that provoke intense emotional reactions in women, with an eye on becoming more skillful in emotional intelligence. [Read: What women find attractive – 16 traits girls instantly fall for]

#5 Dressed to the nines – suave, yet masculine. This hardly needs much clarification.

Step up your game, brother! Dress more Boss than you feel comfortable with. Once you get used to that level of sophistication and style, crank it up even further. Experiment – blazers, shoes, the bad-boy look, the gentleman look, the millionaire bad-boy look. [Read: How to look fabulous while trying to get attention]

#6 Willing to fail. This is probably the most important point, and so I want to end on it.

The safer you want to be, the lower chance you have of leveling up in confidence, success, and status. When you’re willing to fail, you can go so much further than your competition that it’s crazy.

For example, if you get rejected more from approaching more girls, you learn faster than the competition: better ways of approaching, better ways of creating rapport, better ways of creating chemistry, better ways of eye contact and so on and so on.

[Read: How to be the Hot Guy – 20 rules to instant hotness]

The next time you look at a man who just seems a cut above you and 99% of others men – while you’re wondering how to be attractive to women – note the battle scars that you can’t see from the many, many rejections and experiments he’s put himself through, and do the same.

The post How to Be Attractive to Women: Be a Cut Above All Other Guys is the original content of LovePanky - Your Guide to Better Love and Relationships.

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