#-RIPS THIS LOSER APART WITH MY TEETH- (AFFECTIONATE)

[revelingrexan]

25 Vox expressions and a couple alternate ones under the cut :D

Confused + Sillyyyy!!

for the first one, i wanted the practice of drawing a confused face, not just a joking loading circle, so here's a bonus expression i'm happy with :)

OKAY, SO THE CLOWN EMOJI WAS SUPPOSED TO BE FOR "SILLY," BUT I JUST KEPT GETTING "OH HE IS ABOUT TO MURDER SOMEONE" VIBES. SO THIS IS A FANTASTIC ALTERNATE "SARCASTIC" EMOTE

fun side note: i didn't realize just how sarcastic Vox is until i STRUGGLED to not draw from memory his faces from his lines "Oh God here I go. Valentino. just another fUckin' day with Val" (ep 2) or "Oh, it looks like your little hotel didn't work out so well" (start of ep 8). (when i told a friend this, they delighted me by gleefully saying, "There's not a genuine bone in his body") (ALSO HI @clownmoontoon THANK YOU FOR THE SILLY CALLS) (...AND IT'S SO LAME THAT YOU CAN'T TAG SOMEONE IN CAPS LOCK)

[bettersafethandicks]

oh gross this got out of hand i guess ill throw it in the tag im not editing it though sorry

oh to be a stupid little researcher on a team hired by the crimson raiders , oh to be attacked by the cov, to be trapped in a little outpost shack when you hear the commotion, to reach for the pistol kept in there only to have someone else grab it, leaving you to cram yourself in a equipment cabinet in a panic. 

 to hear the door be kicked open with a fanatic shout and hear your teammate get out a single gunshot through the roof of the shack before a horrid wet crunching noise and a heavy thump of a body hitting the floor, peeking through the cracked cabinet door to see enough of the prone body and handle of a thrown axe to know exactly what just happened.  staying curled up in that cabinet for what feels like hours, hand pressed over your mouth to quiet the breathing youre certain everyone can hear.

oh to hear a bandit stomp in after the gunfire has stopped, looting whatever they can.  to feel time slow to a crawl as the rummaging approaches you, adrenaline overloading your body so much its impossible to even move.  to have the door thrown open, the sudden light blinding you, a harsh laugh and a rough hand gripping your arm to wrench you free of your nest.  a screech that feels more animal than human flying from your mouth, twisting and flailing in the grip of the cultist; the sound of renewed struggles making the less coherent psychos perk up, and if you werent currently in the hands of a higher ranking bandit, youd be mauled on the spot.

insisting that youre ‘not a crimson raider- no- your team was just hired to collect data, you don’t have ties to them- ‘

until the bandit raises a gun and says ‘that’s a shame, they were looking for one of the firehawk’s little lackeys to take back, but if youre sure youre not a raider then they’ll just kill you here ‘

and suddenly youre 'a raider a raider i’m a raider please-’

to be tied up and thrown in the back of the technical with everything theyve looted and a couple bodies.  hearing someones half broken echo go off with a crimson raider at hq trying to get in contact with the research team, hearing the intercepted raider radio transmission sending out a patrol to check on you guys, the driver turning it up just for you.  by the time the radio buzzes with a “Site 859 compromised- those fucking cultists- looking for survivors- “  you’re already far into CoV territory.  

oh to be dragged in front of the twins and see them excitedly rock paper scissors over who gets you, tyreen pouting when troy wins and gloats about it as he steps down off the pedestal their thrones are on.  flinching away as he reaches for you and calls back to tyreen that you barely ever have any fun with them anyway 

being hauled off your feet like you weigh nothing, slung over his shoulder, taken to a livestreaming room as he flips on the ‘RECORDING’ sign outside the door.  sitting you half on his lap on a couch youd seen in these propaganda videos before

troy speaks with an almost playful tone  ‘Alright, now your job, little raider, is to beg and cry for help from your big bad firehawk so she crawls out from wherever she’s hiding.  Tell ‘em theyve got three days to come getcha- really sell it, y’know?’ his grip on you tightens, pressing you against him and leaning his face in so you can feel his breath on your throat, ‘maybe it’ll help to imagine that youre real scared and if she doesnt come to your rescue, youre going to be oh so slowly eaten alive...or something.’  he punctuates his instructions with a wet tongue dragging up the side of your throat, a tongue you can’t see from this angle, but it feels far too long.

cambots whirr into view, waiting for his cue-  ‘Oh! And one more thing.‘  Troy takes one of your hands into his, thumb pressing into your palm as he brings it up to his face.  “this isn’t live tv, babe, so you try and tip off the losers and we’re just gonna do another take. And every time you make me redo this-’  that tongue slides out of his mouth, twisting over your fingers as his jaw splits at the seams with an audible wet pop.  you stop breathing.  razor sharp teeth prick at your skin as he mouths at your suddenly incredibly fragile fingers, the hungry drool slicking over your skin telling you that he would like nothing more than for you to disobey.  just as fast as he revealed his monstrous features, his tongue slides back and he pulls your hand back to safety and resets his face  ‘you lose one of these.’

not having to act much at all for the camera, knowing that if lilith or a rescue team came for you theyd be heading into a trap but god you were so fucking scared and this was your only shot-  Troy smirking , speaking derisively to the future audience, arm slung so casually over your shoulders keeping you nice and close

it was over too soon, and you prayed you did a good job.  you were bait, at least, and you’d be alive long enough to have a sliver of a chance-

‘Cut!’ troy called, standing up to slide the long coat off and toss it over a nearby chair.  “right- get that out to the liarhawk and pals today.’ troy spoke to the cambot,, ‘now- im fuckin hungry, so we’re gonna do the letsflay for thursday right now, k?’  he turned to you, tongue peeking out to lick over his lips as he pushed you to your back, a spark of sheer panic making you try to jolt up, only to be held down by his prosthetic with a soft chuckle.  troy got onto the couch, straddling you and pinning your legs down, your head resting on a throw pillow that would have been comfortable if not for the current situation

his jaw started to shift as he looked down at you, his gaze almost affectionate

you stammer ‘W-wait no no you said- you said i had three days for the raiders to come and -’ 

Troy laughed, wheezing like it was the funniest thing he’d ever heard, “oh my god you- you really- hhahahahaha sweetheart, I lied.”

midway through a laugh, his grin broke apart.  his face was an open, horrid display of teeth, too many- too many teeth- a blue tint to the drool starting to drip from that awful tongue, so eager- somehow you could tell he was still smiling as he pushed up your shirt to reveal your soft middle,

you thought you’d scream when his teeth sank in, but no- no your breath caught in your throat like youd been choked.  you didnt even feel the pain right away, just the wrong feeling of something being undone, broken apart- and then he pulled and you felt it and it was like you were being torn apart because thats exactly what was happening- your skin stretched until it met his teeth and was sliced with a jagged edge, muscle pulling and tearing to yield to his much stronger jaws and you couldnt help but watch . 

screaming, fighting, trying to kick and twist and shove him off of you, not succeeding in making him budge, your pushing hands only following his head back as he liberated the sizable chunk of meat that had been yours until very recently.  troy leaned back out of your reach, snapping his unnatural jaws to toss and catch the bloody shred, swallowing it like he was half-starved.  

A huff that mightve been a laugh came from him, gathering your flailing arms in his mechanical grip and pinning them up over your head, exposing your torso even more.  “they always wait ssso long to fight’  he slurred through blood streaked mandibles, tongue lapping over the red dripping down his jaw

your middle burned, hot and wet with pain, and when he moved in you though he’d simply take another bite but no- no he was moving to your face bringing that awful mouth to your face so close to you so close-

he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, in a way that you might call gentle if you weren’t writhing like a fish on land.  he nosed at your throat a bit, giving a low, pleased rumble as he went, moving down until you felt his fractured jaw close around the space between your shoulder and neck and bite with a soft hum , and you shrieked, bracing yourself for the tearing and ripping but he held there like that, not pulling, just-

a cold seeped into your muscles, a frigid alien wave that seemed to creep along with your heartbeat.  every pulse brought it further through you, until it ebbed away and left a sluggish heavy feeling in its wake.  down your shoulder through your arm, fingertips twitching a little before they felt too heavy to move.  slinking across your chest, up your neck, ears ringing for a moment as whatever venom he just administered hit.  against your wishes, your breathing slowed from its panicked hyperventilating.  your other arm followed shortly, struggling and grabbing at the couch’s fabric dying down to little shivers.  the chilling wave seeping down your torso, washing over the bleeding hole in your middle and pushing that agony far away, a dull, hot pressure remaining.  your legs were the last to give out, scuffling and and kicking getting slower and slower until all of you stopped. 

you let out a whine

troy, mouth still wrapped around your shoulder, let out a groan.  he swallowed the mouthful of blood that had accumulated while you were being sedated.

jaw loosening, he pulled back, saliva and blood and florescent blue venom coming away in strings from the deep bite.  the siren looked down at you, now pliant and truly helpless under him.  focusing your eyes was hard, but you could make out the red glow of his markings, seeming to pulse with your own slowing heartbeat.

he sighed happily, rolling his shoulder and letting it relax. you could distantly feel a hand running over the bleeding hole in your abdomen.  “mmh...there....now, where were we?”

[yandere-daydreams]

God, I love your fics so much and had so much stuff I wanted to request but now that requests are ACTUALLY open my mind is going blank. Okay so, I'm not sure if you ever wrote for this but Bakugo and Dabi sharing a darling: a concept. I feel like they'd weirdly either get along or murder each other. So can I please request maybe one yandere patching up the darling after the other Y hurts them, or something of that basis? You don't have to of course! 💖

I’ve… *dabbled* with Bakugo/Darling/Dabi, but they’re far from a functional pairing. Still, I do enjoy watching the two bicker, from time to time.

TW: Swearing, Mentions of Injury, Fire (Cauterization).

Katsuki was never very quiet.

He was the loudest one in your little group, surprisingly, always cursing or complaining or yelling about something, often with Dabi and rarely with you, but neither were off the table when he fell into one of his moods. Even when the rest of the apartment was silent, Dabi on a ‘work trip’ and you locked in your room for some arbitrary punishment, you could press your ear to the door and entertain yourself by listening to him berate the grenades he was trying to repair, or ridicule one of the friends you weren’t allowed to talk to over the phone.

It was comforting, in a way, one of the few ‘constants’ you had with Dabi and Katsuki's ever-changing dynamic.

Knowing this, seeing Katsuki sit across the room, only looking on while Dabi wrapped bandage after bandage around your arms… anyone would understand why a little worry would be more than reasonable, even if you were in no position to care about his feelings. Not after what he did, and especially not after how he reacted.

A hum brought you back to your more talkative captor, the one currently holding you in his lap, your bleeding hand cupped palm-up in his own. You knew what he intended, and judging from the flames swaying on the fingertips of his free hand, you could tell that he didn’t plan on waiting, either. Reflexively, you shied away when he moved closer, but Dabi just chuckled, a sweet difference from the offense he usually took when you flinched. Gently, he entangled your fingers with yours, kissing the side of your head as he moved the fire closer.

“It’s not always scary,” He reassured, attempting to distract you as he cauterized the deep wound. It hurt, making you flinch and bite your cheek, but not nearly as bad as what’d caused the cut in the first place. Dabi seemed to know this, offering a sympathetic smile and attempting to work as delicately as he could. “We’ll get you something for the pain, I promise. Just bear with me for a few minutes, and we can take a break before patching up your legs.”

“Bullshit,” Katsuki cut in, working his way into the conversation with all the grace of a fratboy after two rounds of shots. He was leaning forward in his chair, trying desperately to look relaxed and failing so miserably, it only seemed to add to his stress. Hell, you see that he was ready to snap, his jaw locked into place and fists clenched, but you weren’t about to point that out. Honesty never led to good places, not for you. “I’m already letting you use… that, on my angel. Don’t push it with whatever ‘prescriptions’ you’re bringing home.” Dabi rolled his eyes, going back to his work, and Katsuki nearly growled at the dismissal. “I mean, is this even safe? How do I know you’re not planning to melt ‘er hand off?”

You felt Dabi tense, his flames flickering before going out completely, a roll of gauze forced into your good hand while Dabi crossed his arms over your chest protectively, pulling you closer. “You think I can’t control my quirk? Me?” He shook his head, clicking his tongue, his grip growing tight enough to make breathing difficult. You tugged on his sleeve, but neither was looking at you, their gazes trained on the supposed ‘problems’ sitting opposite of them. “Is your head so fucked up you can’t even remember who made me do this in the first place, or are you just willingly stupid?”

The danger only truely dawned you on when Katsuki pushed himself up, standing and daring to take a step towards you, Dabi hastily moving to follow his lead, but before he could stand, you shoved yourself into his chest, clinging to his arms and digging your nails into scarred skin. “Please, just drop it,” You whispered, hoping he would hear the worry in your voice, if only to save you the effort of spelling it out for him. “He’s frustrated, don’t let it get to you. He’s just trying to get under your skin.”

“Of course he is,” Dabi mumbled, moving you out of his lap, letting you rest against the headboard. You didn’t try to resist, not beyond refusing to let go of his arm until he ripped it away from you, the wounds on your arms and legs and everywhere still throbbing and bleeding, hardly closed despite the good hour that had passed. Dabi stood, towering over the blonde, stuffing his hands into his pockets and keeping his posture casual, despite the heat you could feel radiating off his form. “Look at the bastard, such a fucking attention whore he dragged you into his workshop. Then, when something obviously explodes, what does he do?” The question is punctuated by a shove to Katsuki’s chest, earning a glare from the shorter boy but not much else. “He fucking leaves you. Panics and runs away, like a coward. What? Can the hero only stand to see blood when he’s not the one who caused it?”

Dabi was ruthless, the venom dripping from his mouth turning poisonously honest. You forced yourself to look away, to hold bite your cheek, to close your eyes and wait for the oncoming, inevitably outrage, but the stillness startled you more than anything either could ever say. A second passed, then two, the atmosphere going from violent to heavy by the time you managed to glance towards the two. Dabi was still watching passively, but Katsuki was practically shaking, trembling and gritting his teeth, tears dripping from his downcast face to the floor below. You nearly said something, the thought of reaching out to comfort him almost instinctive, but Katsuki acted first. 

“You think I don’t know that?” The words were barely audible, half whispered and half forced out, but the sob that racked through him was undeniable, as apparent and as visible as any cut or bruise could ever be. “You think I don’t already know it was stupid, that I’m some selfish, shitty loser who needs to share with a villain just to be with the person I love? Fuck, I’m not even mad at you anymore, this is all my fault. There, (Y/n) got hurt because I’m an asshole.” He sighed, furiously rubbing the tears from his eyes, his breath hitching when he attempted to look up, the boy covering his face, fighting not to back down. “Happy?”

Dabi sighed, moving closer to the boy. You prepared to scream, to break up one of the worse fights they’d had, but Dabi just wrapped an arm around his shoulders, pulling him into a one-sided, stiff pseudo-hug, something you could hardly call a gesture of concern. But, there was something brotherly about it, not affectionate but not unpleasant, either. Katsuki pushed himself away immediately, but didn’t yell, only crossing his arms and shaking his head. 

His breathing was uneven, but he wasn’t crying, anymore. 

And god, you were thankful for that.

“Feel better?” The question was only answered with a curt ‘fuck you’, but Dabi just laughed, punching his arm and ignoring it when Katsuki continued to curse him out. It took a few seconds for their attention to turn back to you, their injured captive, but you were almost grateful for the time, despite the fact that your confusion had to be evident, second-hand embarrassment and trepidation mixing together as they debated how best to handle your remaining wounds, both carefully dancing around the topic of quirks and burn marks.

You weren’t sure how to feel, honestly, not certain whether you should be more focused on keeping their hands off of you or just be happy that they weren’t at each others’ necks, for once. But…

At least they weren’t fighting, anymore. 

But, with a few more odd comments, their stares suddenly turning predatorily competitive… you weren’t sure their version of ‘getting along’ was much better, either. 

[meyerlansky]

idk if you've elaborated on meyer and charlie getting together because charlie gets jealous of plot device!jimmy but if you haven't would you want to?

I HAVEN'T YET but i would in fact love to because this is a fave of mine :D so in addition to the stuff in that one post, @goatsandgangsters and i routinely spitball a modern au verse that we affectionately call "loser au" in which team ny is... kind of losers. they still come from disadvantaged backgrounds and they still do like petty crime shit, but because the landscape of organized crime and law enforcement is way different in the early 21st century than it was in the early 20th century, they don't manage to break into Big Stuff and rake in the big bucks

all this is to say that, in my head, the "jimmy+meyer leads to jealous charlie leads to meyer/charlie get together" set up is like a branch off loser au? so like jimmy goes to one of the Prestige Colleges in NYC, columbia or nyu or city college or something, and meyer is maaaybe enrolled in one of the two-year programs in the cuny system? but he hangs out in the studenty areas of whatever Prestige College jimmy goes to [and tbh the three of them probably sell prescription drugs to college students on those campuses—meyer passes as a serious scholarly student extremely easily, benny definitely has a script for adderall or something that he Does Not Take, and charlie has other Supply Connections] and SOMEHOW he and jimmy start talking about whatever nightmare american novel meyer is reading for fun at the same time as jimmy's us lit survey assigned it as a reading, this is why jimmy is just a plot device, i haven't put a lot of thought into his school shit because he's just there to be mostly-no-homo-heart-eyes in meyer's direction

which never happens

charlie and benny are the charming ones, meyer doesn't go looking for outside attention and isn't really used to being on the receiving end of it, but like. benny has not read faulkner and would reply to anything meyer had to say about his work with "more like FUCKner, amirite?" frank has read more than charlie or benny, but frank is also Old and tries to diffuse meyer's annoyance with the Great American Novel in a productive way so he's no fun to argue with. and charlie wouldn't want to listen to meyer tear steinbeck apart. [that's what meyer thinks, anyway. for the record, charlie absolutely would listen to meyer's rant about steinbeck's boner for The Dignity Of Poverty for HOURS, but meyer is pining and dumb and doesn't realize charlie's ALSO pining and has had yes-homo-heart-eyes for meyer since they were kids. but meyer doesn't know this yet, so he just Assumes charlie would be bored by it.]

so meyer is like "okay fine i will debate you, random doughboy, and i will destroy your argument" and he and jimmy definitely debate and meyer definitely wins, but he also enjoys the conversation, so like. they talk more, whenever they run into each other and meyer's not working a shift at the mechanic's garage he does legit and not-legit work at, etc, and eventually meyer's like "oh i have plans" when charlie's like "hey let's hang out" one night

and charlie's like "................what plans. you never have plans. all you do is study and strip cars for parts and hang out with me and benny. what plans."

and meyer's like "my plans are in fact studying, just not alone for once, it's a revolutionary concept, i know"

and charlie's like "oh. okay. with who."

and meyer's like "just a guy i met on columbia's campus"

and charlie's like "WHAT FUCKING GUY >:[" but only in his head because meyer's good at hiding when he's ticked off from most people but not from charlie and charlie can tell he's getting Annoyed, so he leaves it

and so it goes, for like a month? a few months? an indeterminate length of time, during which charlie at some point is like "hey let me come hang out with you and sell the drugs" but he sells no drugs, instead he Assesses jimmy when they run into him and meYER HAS? INSIDE JOKES??? WITH THIS RANDOM DUDE???????? SURE THEY'RE ABOUT HEMINGWAY, WHATEVER THE FUCK THAT IS, BUT FUCKING STILL. HOW DARE.

jimmy and charlie Immediately Do Not Get Along, Obviously, and it doesn't help that charlie has deeply sublimated Anxieties wrt, like. MANY things about being bi, as well as specifically about having a crush on meyer, but jimmy in particular inflames his insecurities about being a high school dropout and not being smart enough for meyer, who's definitely gonna Do Things and Be Someone because he is so smart [nevermind that meyer doesn't wanna do things, not legal things, because the system is fucked and he's already making plenty enough to do more than survive with their illegal shit, and also he knows charlie's smart in not-school ways]

so charlie is on the offensive which means meyer's on the defensive for basically the first time since they beat each other up and called a cease-fire, and jimmy's just like "i have no idea what's going on here but meyer are we gonna talk shit about fitzgerald's tiny dick or not" and meyer's like "YES LET'S i'll see you later charlie" and charlie's like >:[ externally but ;_; internally

and i dunno how long things are kind of tense and weird, but charlie's upset meyer's hanging out with someone else, meyer's upset charlie's getting nasty about one of the ONLY TIMES EVER someone outside their friend group has wanted to talk to/hang out with him more, and at some point they have A Fight in which charlie probably says something like "so, what, do you wanna fuck him or what" as meyer's getting ready to leave for another goddamn ~*study date*~

and meyer

who has zero intention of fucking jimmy, but who has watched charlie cope with the crush meyer doesn't know about yet by fucking his way through the list of girls their age in the neighborhood and probably one or two of the guys, and therefore absolutely cannot be convinced that charlie has ANY say about where meyer chooses to put his dick

Is Not Happy

he is, in fact, Big Mad

which means he goes ice cold and there is a very tiny voice in the back of charlie's head, which sounds alarmingly like benny, screaming "OHHH YOU DONE DONE IT NOW" but before he can do anything about it meyer's like "in what world is that any of your business"

and charlie, with what is in his head unassailable logic, goes "of fucking course it's my business, meyer"

and meyer, who is getting icier by the second, is like "please, explain this in a way that WON'T result in me ripping your face off with my fingernails"

and charlie, not that he's wrong, is like "he's not good enough for you meyer"

and meyer is somewhere very deep down kind of touched but mostly still angry and is like "once again, explain to me how this is your business at all"

and because charlie has a deeply flawed brain-to-mouth filter at the best of times, much less when he's distressed by the thought of meyer getting railed by someone who is not him, he is like "it's my business because i don't want you to kiss anyone but me okay"

and meyer, who fully BSODs with that comment and whose autopilot mode is labeled "bitch," is like "well i didn't want you to fuck every broad between hester and 12th for the last five years, and yet here we are"

and charlie's like "wut"

and meyer's like "wut"

and after like two minutes of silence in which they both process what just got said, charlie's like "i'm gonna kiss you now. please don't punch me."

and meyer's like "no promises" because he's still in BSOD'ed bitch mode

and then they make out

and seven miles away in one of columbia's study rooms jimmy is like "huh meyer's never been late before, that's kinda weird"

[he's late because charlie's got him pressed into his ratty-ass sofa and charlie's bottom lip between his teeth]

[itswhatimreallythinking]

My boyfriend can't be this cute (guidelines to dating Lance McClain)

My gift to @tamaraneankori. Merry Christmas to you girl (hope it’s still christmas at you place). You ask for a fluffy fic and this is the sweetest thing I ever written. It came out longer than I expected (happens to all my fic actually) but I had so much fun writing this. Hope it lives up to your expectation.  

@klance2017secretsanta

AO3

Summary: Keith have a cute boyfriend

A.K.A Keith’s constant dilemma of battling his raging hormones while his boyfriend remain oblivious

A.K.A Keith is doomed

From the first moment, he laid eyes on the blue-eyed boy across the campus ground Keith knows he was doomed. From tantalizing caramel skin to a dazzling smile, and sparkling eyes that he wants to keep looking into for the rest of his life, Keith had fallen hard.

 And the worst part is the boy, Lance McClain, have no freaking idea.

 Despite his flirty words and affectionate behavior, Lance is actually very dense when it comes to people’s affection towards himself.

 Many times, Keith just want to forgo all the courting (that all went unnoticed) and kiss the Cuban till he gets the memo. If Hunk didn’t constantly remind him that Lance like romantic gesture he might do just that. It’s not easy though. From the number of times Pidge came close to ripping her hair off, he guessed that she too is close to saying fuck it and shove both of them into a locked room.

 So, it’s understandable when he believes that Hunk is sent from heaven to be his impulse control and the best wingman ever. Without him Keith would have bombed this a long time ago.

 But he didn’t.

 After months of pining and extreme courting, (he once brave a snowstorm to get Lance McDonald’s because he happens to mention in the group text that he have a sudden craving, even Pidge was impressed) Lance finally get the message and reciprocate his feelings.

 It was the best day of his life.

 Yes, Shiro, it’s better than the day the papers finally went through and they really became a real family. Stop looking at him like that. Go complain to someone who cares. Who? Oh, he don’t know, Allura maybe? Of course, he’s still mad. His ‘brother’ decide to ditched his birthday party because he rather ‘Netflix and chill’ with his girlfriend for god sake. DON’T TOUCH ME!

 Anyway, that day was the best day of his life, but also the start of his unending dilemma. He’s not sure he’s going to live past 50 if this continues. Not with the constant spike in blood pressure and head trauma.

 Being friends allow Keith to spent time with the Cuban, while this is good it’s not enough. Keith always wants more. They said to be careful of what you wish for and only now did he come to fully understands that saying. Because, if he thought Lance was cute while being his friend he is so not ready for the level that is of the boyfriend.

 He can’t count how many times he bangs his head against hard surface just to keep his emotions under control.

 Thus to save himself from early demise he constructs up a list of guidelines that will (somewhat) make his life as Lance’s boyfriend (and to be the best boyfriend ever) a little easier.

 #1 Be more open-minded

He had said this many times. Lance is gorgeous. Anyone who disagrees can fight him on that. Even Pidge once admit it to them in secret (and also threaten them with a lifetime of suffering if anyone as much as hint it to the Cuban). So it’s quite understandable when someone tries to make a move on his boyfriend.

 More than once that Lance’s friendliness got taken out of context as an invitation to sweep the Cuban off his feet. Now that will not do. Sweeping Lance off his feet, literally and figuratively, is Keith’s job.

 He’d hold his tongue when they were still friends but now he’s not going to let it slide. Many times it became a fist fight (if they’re a guy and of course he always wins) because talking doesn’t work with these people.

 Lance always gave him an earful while tending to the cuts and bruises, asking why he feels the need to start a fight, that he was never like this before. He keeps mum during all of it but after months of coaxing and disappointed looks, he cracked.

 “Because you’re you and I’m me that’s why.” The answer rendered the brunette speechless and Keith to gather himself for a bit to soldier on.

 “Lance do you realized how amazing you are? You… you’re beautiful and smart and friendly and hundreds of other positive traits. I’m unsocial and hot-headed and…and I still don’t understand why you agreed to go out with me.” Lance stared at him with a blank look on his face, Keith turned his head away. “When I saw those guys, with their slick hair and perfect teeth…and money to spoil you the way you deserved. I just felt so threatened, so scared, that you would suddenly realize that you can do a lot better than me and-”

 “Leave?”

 Even if that what he’s about to say hearing it coming from Lance’s mouth made his heart dropped to his feet. He heard the brunette heave a tired sigh and he grinds his teeth. He really shouldn’t say all that, now Lance will know what a loser he is. A sharp flick to his forehead made him yelp in surprise. Looking up he was met with a murderous glare. Lance is furious.

 “I could not believe what you just said,” the words were drawn out in a snarl that reminds Keith of a predator. The Cuban got right up in his face, their nose touching, “you see me that shallow? That a pocket full of money and a few nice words could lure me away?”

 “NO! I would never. It’s just that…”

 Lance pinched the bridge of his nose, muttered a few words in Spanish, and if Keith has ears they’d be drooping right now.

 He didn’t hear Lance take a huge calming breath but he did feel it when two warm hands cradled his face and then he’s looking into a pair of deep azure eyes.

 “Now you listen to me Keith,” gone were the terrifying snarl replace with a voice so soft his heart shuddered in his chest. “To me, you’re the most passionate and loyal person I’ve ever met. You’re kind-hearted and so strong, and may God have mercy on those who dared lay a finger on any of us because I know you will do whatever it takes to protect us. You have no idea how happy I am when I know you love me too.” Keith’s breath hitched when Lance lay his forehead against his, looking at him so adoringly it makes him want to cry.

 “I love you so much, Keith. I want us to be together for the rest of my life and I hope you feel the same way.”

 Instead of a verbal answer, Keith pulled Lance in for a kiss, desperate and sweet and full of promises. When they part Lance give him a soft smile before gaining a serious look. “I don’t know where you get those silly notions about yourself from. So, I need you to write down all the names of every person who ever made you feel that way so that I can have a private chat with each of them.”

 Keith burst out laughing.

 After that, whenever he saw someone flirting with his boyfriend he would step up beside the brunette and laced their fingers together. If that is not enough to drive them away the kiss (tongue included) usually does.

 #2 Accept that you will always come after Hunk

Halfway through the second year of college, they decide to move in together. By moving in he means moving into the recently available room across from Lance’s old one that he shared with Hunk. Shay is replacing Lance next semester when her contract expires.

 They were in the middle of unpacking (mostly his stuff since Lance just has to carry his from across the hall) when the Cuban's phone rang. He was not paying attention but after hearing the sound of the phone hitting the floor and seeing Lance’s devastated face, Keith wished he did.

 Hunk was involved in a hit and run case. Thank god the other party was a motorcycle. The Hawaiian got a concussion, twisted ankle, a broken arm and dozens of cuts and bruises. But he was fine. The smile he gave them the moment Lance burst into the room is proof enough. Lance has to refrain from jumping from sheer relief.

 Hunk has to stay in the hospital for another 3-4 days to make sure that nothing is critical. Lance demand he be allowed to stay with him. Hunk also begs the doctor to let him stay.

 He shared a look with Shay then. The large Samoan girl had known them longer than he does and was the one who constantly assured him that there is absolutely nothing going on between Hunk and Lance. They’re just really really close.

 He looks at Lance smoothing down Hunk’s hair who’s giving a sweet smile and have to bite his tongue. Shay has been doing this far longer than him. If she can then he can too.

 After Lance grabbed his stuff and leave for the hospital again, Keith is left alone to looked around at the messy room. More than half of the boxes were still unopened and he couldn’t be bothered to continue. It’s not moving in together if he’s the only one unpacking.

 He has a quick late dinner and went to bed. Before he can drift off his phone rang.

 “Hey, mi amore, you’re asleep yet?” Lance's face is illuminated by the light of the screen while Hunk snores softly in the background. Keith smile tiredly and they spent their first night together apart, talking till he fell asleep at the phone.

 Lance called 5-7 time a day, once in the morning, once before going to bed and anytime in between. Whenever his thought drifted to the messy room (boxes still at the same place where he left them) his phone will be blowing up with messages from Lance saying how much he missed him. With the hospital visits, constant phone calls and text, Keith didn’t have the time to be lonely.

 The day Hunk was released Keith came home to a candlelit room and homemade dinner. Seeing the brunette standing in their room again made everything right with the world. After dinner, Lance took him by the hand and led him to their bedroom.

 The sight of caramel skin scantily clad in delicate white lace undergarment made it suddenly hard to breathe.

 “How about we start breaking in the bed,” voice dripping like honey with kisses just as sweet, Keith lost himself in Lance.

 Yes, he thought, that is an excellent idea.

 #3 Ignore the morning complaints

With his sunny personality, one would think Lance is a morning person. Oh, how wrong they were. A morning Lance is a cranky Lance and you don’t want to approach him before he has his morning coffee.

 Keith untangles himself from the bundle of blankets and clinging long limbs. He drowsily stretches out his body and drops a kiss on his still sleeping boyfriend’s cheek before making his way to the bathroom.

 Lance was just stumbling into the bathroom when he got out of the shower. The other was wearing the same pair of sweatpants he was wearing yesterday. Well, he was wearing it before Keith decide that he look better without it. Bite and kiss marks littered tanned body, couple that with tousled hair and a slight limp in his steps, Lance looked thoroughly fucked.

 “Wipe that smug look off your face Kogane”, Lance spit out venomously, “this is all because of you.”

 If this was half a year ago Keith would have been hurt. Now, he took it in stride.

 “You weren’t complaining last night”, he invaded Lance personal space, “or do I have to remind you.” He blew teasingly into the Cuban’s ear and quickly move away to avoid the other’s hand from swatting him like a fly.

 “Get away from me!” The Korean barked out a laugh and walk out of the bathroom. He searched around in the closet with Lane still going on in the background.

 “Look at all these marks, and after I told you to go lightly on the neck because I have a presentation today. I can’t cover all these with make-up. Now I have to wear a turtleneck, in summer. Who wears a freaking turtleneck in the summer? A douche that’s who. I’m going to look like Steve fucking Jobs trying to sell an iPhone.”

 Keith laughs at the last comment. Pulling a shirt over his head he realized that Lance had gone quiet. He moved to a blind spot the mirror can’t reflect and peek inside.

 Lance is staring at himself in the mirror with a soft smile on his lips. Fingers lightly tracing the marks Keith left behind from one to the other with a look of utter fondness in his eyes.

 Is someone screaming? He’s definitely hearing screaming. Oh never mind, that’s just him. Screaming. Internally. BECAUSE HIS BOYFRIEND IS FUCKING ADORABLE!

 Keith felt the blood rushing to his face…and the lower region.

 Maybe if they’re real quick? No no no nope. Lance would kill him if his perfect attendance is ruined because Keith can’t keep it in his pants. He took a couple of calming breaths and announce that he’ll be outside making breakfast.

 “Bacon and sunny side up for me, please. Love you.”

 DAMMIT LANCE! YOU’RE MAKING THIS REALLY HARD.

 #4 Always have an extra set of contacts at hand

“Aww, I’ve run out of contacts.”

 That was the comment that turned Keith’s normal weekend into a nightmare. He poked his head into their bedroom to see Lance rummaging in his side of the bed nightstand drawer. He walked closer to see if there’s anything he could do to help.

 “AH HAH!” Keith's mouth went dry when Lance plopped a pair of glasses on his nose. Of course, Lance has a pair of emergency glasses, anyone who wears contacts does, it’s only common sense. But, damn, why is it getting hot in here?

 Since they planned to stay in and study for the upcoming exam week, they postponed the contact lens shopping to this evening when they go out for dinner instead of now. Sitting on opposite end of the dining table, books and pens scattered messily on the surface, they lost themselves in their reading.

 Actually, it’s only Lance who’s reading.

 Keith is busy gawking at his boyfriend.

 The more he stared the wilder his imagination became.

 Lance is an honored student who got roped into tutoring the delinquent Keith after class. They’re going over everything Keith learned that day. Lance was patient while Keith kept getting angrier at his own failure.

 “This is useless. I’m never going to get it, you should stop wasting your time with me.” Keith sulked in his seat while Lance looks at him calculatingly. The honored student’s glasses flash as he got up and got right in Keith’s face. The Cuban’s arm was on either side of his chair caging him in. The sharp glint that Keith had never seen in the good-natured boy’s eyes before sent a jolt of electric down his spine.

 “How about we try a different method,” Lance whispered against his lips before closing the distance. The kiss was hot and wild and ended quicker than he would have like. Chasing after the departing lips a finger stopped him in his track.

 “Ah, ah,” the Cuban said in a sing-song voice, “only if you get the next question right.”

 Lance sneezed and Keith snapped out of his daydream. Lance smile sheepishly at him and he quickly looks down not wanting him to see the blush on his face. Keith can only get a paragraph in when he turns the page and saw a picture of a team of doctors on the other side.

 Lance is a doctor and the owner of a small clinic. Keith is a police officer who often comes in to have Lance take care of his wounds of the day.

 It was after midnight when Keith stumble into the facility with blood down his arms. Lance's face paled and he orders the officer to sit down on the bed while he rushed around gathering supplies, mouth complaining all the while.

 “He was holding a knife to the woman’s throat. What do you suggest me do then?”

 “Not offering yourself as a substitute would be the first step.” The doctor bites out harshly and Keith let it slide because he knows Lance was only worried about him. He took off his shirt as instructed and shiver when the cold air made contact with his skin. He bites down the hiss at each pierced of the needle just to keep the doctor from frowning any deeper.

 When the cut was stitched and wrapped up nicely Lance dip down to kiss tenderly at the bandages. Keith’s heart melts at the sight. His breath hitched when those lips glided up to mouthed at the old scar on his collarbone as he's pushed down onto the bed.

 “That one and this too. All because you have to be a hero. Coming here with blood all over yourself, always threatening to kill me with a heart attack.”

 “Sorry,” his take in a shuddering breath when the brunettes bite at his neck.

 Lance climb on top on him and settle himself on his stomach, pants gone leaving him in only his briefs. Keith wants nothing more than to run his hands down those smooth thighs.

 “Nope. It won’t heal if you keep moving it.” Lance hold down his wrist gently as he looks down at Keith. Hooded eyes from behind the glasses met his own hungry ones.

 “Now be a good boy and lay still while I punished you for scaring me.”

 The doctor grinds down on his crotch and Keith shiver in anticipation.

 A sharp cold against his cheek abruptly ended his fantasy. Lance smiled at him cheekily eyes dancing with mirth from behind those damned glasses.

 “Here”, the brunette hand him a can of soda before popping his own. Tanned fingers caressed his shirt, looking him up and down appreciatively. Lance did buy it for him after all.

 “It suits you.”

 Suits

 Lance and Keith are high profile lawyers working for a different firm who often handle the same case. This time Keith is the defender while Lance is the prosecutor, both going neck-to-neck, not backing down an inch.

 Keith can’t remember how he ends up sprawl on the bed underneath Lance but he’s not complaining.

 The Cuban looks downright sexy in that form-fitting deep navy suits that accentuate his eyes behind those clear frames. One tanned hand combing through soft brown strands while another slowly pulled off the tie. Keith swallowed thickly. His eyes follow as pink tongue dart out to lick their owner’s lips seductively.

 Lance give him a vicious grin promising one hell of a good time, “you’ve been a very naughty boy, Keith.”

 Keith slammed his head on the table making Lance leaped away in surprised.

 Shit

 This is serious

 Also, why the hell is he always the bad one in those scenarios? Is he developing a new kink? Fuck, he is, isn’t he?

 “What the hell Keith!? Are you alright?” Lance is frantically checking his forehead (ow that hurts, he shouldn’t have done that). The close proximity with Glasses Lance makes him take a sharp breath. Before his brain can conjure up another fantasy he quickly dragged Lance towards the door.

 “Hey! What-where are we going? Keith!”

 “Contacts shopping. NOW!”

 #5 Endure the scratches

Lance is a scratcher. Whenever the Cuban is on the receiving end Keith will come out looking like he’s been in a fight with a vicious cat. Long thin red lines will adorn his back for days stinging irritatingly whenever he got sweaty.

 So, for the sake of trying out new stuff, Lance suggests they use handcuffs.

 Keith didn’t know he has a bondage kink until he saw his boyfriend naked and cuffed to the bedpost. The sight of the brunette writhing on the bed stir up something primal within him. That night he couldn’t get enough on Lance. Not that he ever had enough but that night was on a whole other level.

 Keith went to sleep thoroughly satisfied not noticing that Lance was less vocal than normal.

 He was eager to go again the next day. The thought of his restraint boyfriend plaguing him throughout the day. They barely made it to the bed before Keith was ripping off his clothes and Lance’s.

 He let out a blissful groan when he finally gets to enter the Cuban, but somehow he couldn’t shake off the feeling that something was missing. A sniffle pulled him out of his thought and his heart dropped when he saw tears running down Lance’s face.

 “No”, the brunette whimpered and fear grip at his heart.

 He hurt Lance

 He wants to die right now

 Keith quickly gets off him and tears spring to his eyes when he sees Lance weakly tugging at the restraint.

 “Lance,” he choked out past the lump in his throat, “baby, I’m so sorry.” He unlocked the cuffs and the brunette throw himself into Keith’s arms holding on tightly. Keith hugged back just as fierce, head burying in the crook of Lance’s shoulder, “I’m sorry I hurt you, Lance.”

 He felt the brunette shook his head, “no, you didn’t hurt me. It just…” Lance pushed away from him but Keith holds on tight not allowing the brunette to go far. “When I have that thing on, I can’t touch you.” He nuzzled Keith’s nose, “you’re right there but I feel so far away. I don’t like that.”

 “Then we’ll stop using it.” He kisses at the red mark on the brunette’s wrist apologetically.

 “But you like those handcuffs.”

 “Not enough to make you cry.” He lay the hand on his cheek nuzzling into it, “nothing is worth making you cry for.”

 Lance’s tears come back anew and his heart clenched, “I’m sorry Lance, please stop crying.” He kissed away the tears at the corner of those blue eyes he loves so much, “I never know what to do when you cry.”

 Their lips meet in a soft kiss, so sweet and loving and everything Keith wanted. When they joined together again as one, with Lance’s arms clinging to him, he finally understands what was missing. This is what missing. This connection, this intimacy, they always have when making love.

 His back is full of scratches again, but with Lance laying soft kisses on each one as an apology, Keith realized he don’t mind.

 #6 –

 “KEITH!” The owner of the name came back to his senses and look at the boy sitting beside him. Oh, they’re on a date right now, aren’t they? Keith kicked himself mentally. Before he could apologize Lance was already resting his forehead against his, looking at him with worried eyes. His heart hammered in his chest.

 “You’re a bit warm and you look kind of dazed. Let’s go home, we can do this another day.” The brunette tugged at his hand for him to stand up. Keith wants to protest, but after a bit of contemplation, decide against it. Who is he to say no to having Lance fuzzing over him. Also, if he plays his card right he’ll get to monopolized his boyfriend for the whole weekend. Now isn’t that a thought.

 Making their way home Keith lift up their joint and to lay a kiss on the back of Lance’s. The Cuban looked back at him with a fond smile, soft red splayed across his face.

 Keith fell in love all over again.

 He understands long ago that Lance is dangerous. Deadly so. He’s a lethal weapon tailored to bring Keith to his knees with only a smile. Trapping Keith within his blue eyes with no means of escape and he loves it. Lance could ask him for the moon and he swears he’ll find a way to give it to the brunette.

 Keith smiles happily as he watches his boyfriend flitted around the room, gathering blankets and pillows and piling it around him creating a comfortable nest on the sofa. He took hold of the bronzed wrist before its owner can disappear into the kitchen. He tugged lightly and Lance yelp as he falls into Keith’s waiting arms.

 Their lips gravitate towards each other. Languid and soft, he carefully pours his feelings into the kiss, and the next, and the one after that as well. He scoots closer to the backrest and Lance climb in beside him without protest. Smiling exasperatedly the brunette open up his arms and Keith tuck himself into them. He breathes the smell of Lance in deeply into his lungs and felt himself relax.

 “You’re spoilt. I’m spoiling you.” The Cuban lament half-heartedly as he lay soft kisses along the milky temple. Keith agreed by trailing kisses along the column of bronzed-colored throat, making pearls of laughter spill forth from Lance’s mouth.

 Listening to that wonderful sound while being encased in Lance’s arms Keith wondered if this is what happiness feels like.

 Yes

 It definitely is

[bettsplendens]

This is my fluffy little medic, Patches, standing up as tall as he can so tall people will take him seriously instead of having to look down at him.

He’s a member of a species I haven’t named yet. They’re all around 5 feet tall, and they actually tend to be plumper than this- Patches has spent a considerable amount of time on a ship with a moderate climate rather than his native planet, so he’s lost some of his insulation. His fluff is shorter than average, too, he’s shed a bit. He’s perfectly healthy, this is just what happens when they stop living on a winter planet.

They’re a pack-hunting species that lives on a planet caught in perpetual winter. Yes, pack-hunting. They leap like kangaroos, cover an impressive amount of ground in every bounce, and can easily catch up to their food. Most of their food is considerably larger than them and has adapted to the cold climate by growing very long fur and a lot of insulation, so they’ve adapted to deal with that. 

And the way they deal with that problem is by having very sharp teeth. People don’t tend to realize this because they have a row of small, even, vaguely pointed front teeth, but those are used for grooming fur. Their jaw seems to unhinge, revealing a double row of teeth best compared to a shark’s, and they use those teeth and a set of blunt but powerful claws to rip through flesh. Being pack hunters, they usually target the upper legs of their prey to cripple it so their strongest can go for the throat. Which is actually quite terrifying to watch, a bunch of five-foot-tall fluffballs taking down a thing that strongly resembles a woolly rhino, and a few circulating videos of that (with the note that this is NORMAL for them) have greatly increased the respect for their tiny fluffy kind. 

Despite their capabilities as hunters, they’re very affectionate with each other and are in no way terrifying to anyone who isn’t edible or a blatant threat. Highly social creatures, those looking to start a new colony burrow into deep snow and line the walls with the stripped bones of their prey, gradually enlarging and hardening the network of caverns and burrows as the colony grows. They tend to sleep in happy piles, with particularly close small groups digging their own side caverns to sleep in. 

And, often as not, said happy piles turn into happier piles. They’re known for two things; their unexpected ferocity in the face of actual threats, and their tendency to sleep with anything and everything that wants to sleep with them and isn’t downright toxic. To call them polygamous would be an understatement, as they attach no more emotional significance to sex than to a grooming session. Romantic relationships between much smaller numbers are common, but even fluffs who are already in relationships will gladly have sex with anyone who wants. Assuming whoever wants isn’t closely related to them- newcomers are usually prompted to reel off their parents and grandparents’ names to be sure nobody recognizes those names. Plus, when they’re closely related enough to really matter, they usually smell similar enough to notice (though, genetic tests have recently revealed that they’re pretty much all just a little bit inbred. Not enough to matter significantly, so they don’t really care).

Children are generally raised in a fairly communal environment. Very small babies are hairless and helpless and generally stay in a parents’ pouch until they grow their fur and open their eyes, then are gradually weaned from their parents until they’re happy to live in a room with all the other children roughly their age, plus a good few adult caregivers. Families and parents come interact with the children, but the children typically stay in the nursery until they’re the equivalent of 10.

There’s something of a misconception among other species that the children are encouraged to have sex as soon as they hit puberty. What actually happens is, the fluffs are very honest about sex, and tell their young that /if/ they want to, when they hit puberty, they can start experimenting with others of a similar age. The youngsters have to reach mental adulthood before they can go flop into the piles of happy sex with everybody else. 

Their religion tends to vary a bit between colonies, and sometimes colonies who meet will discuss the differences, but they never seem to mind very much. Mostly because their values are usually about the same, and it’s details that vary rather than anything else. The basic idea is that their planet was sculpted by the spirit of a mother bear, who dug them out deep cavities for snow to collect in that they could burrow into, and who sculpted the oceans for their semi-distant relatives, the bears. The general core of their religion amounts to “don’t kill things needlessly but don’t be afraid to kill something if you need food or materials, don’t steal stuff unless it was stolen from you, and don’t attack people. But if people attack you or other people, especially helpless people or other children, tear them up. And maybe eat them if they look tasty.” 

They can’t bury their dead because someone else would eventually find them, they aren’t inclined to eat them in most colonies, and they don’t use fire often enough to cremate them- partly due to a lack of easily available flammable materials, as most of the growing things on their planet are under snow+ice in the shallower areas. Usually, bodies will be respectfully stashed in one area until a small number have been built up, then a small group will head down to the coast, where the bears live, and either leave the bodies where the bears can easily find them or set them on ice floes to drift off. In return, the bears allow the fluffs to fish for a bit before heading back inland. 

The bears, which I need to draw because they’re not just bears and they are very cool, are actually rather closely related to the fluffs. They live at the coast and act like polar bears, and, interestingly, it’s very rare for fluffs and bears to attack each other. According to their religion, this is an ancient agreement between the species. According to scientists, it’s because both parties would probably be torn apart and the ‘winner’ would be badly shredded and might not live to eat the loser. Plus, they don’t interact enough for there to be any real clashes over territory or food.