#Keith ... is not very good at this comfort thing

[pelova4president]

Shadows are to protect I

Alessia Russo x Putellas!Reader

shadows are to protect II, III, IV

summary~ You just moved to Arsenal and everything was unknown to you but now you had Alessia. Your situationship with Alessia was everything but perfect but at least she was there, sometimes.

this is pure angst

Alessia is your whole heart. You could tell her that a thousand times and she still wouldn’t leave her boyfriend.

He doesn’t even get her, not like you do. He doesn’t appreciate her like you do. It should be you holding her hand on the streets. It should be you kissing her in the bars of London.

You didn’t really know when you started to feel that way. You’d just moved to England, a very scary move from your comfortable and warm Spain. Spain and Barcelona was all you’ve even known. Expending your world was just as terrifying as you’d ever believed.

The welcome was cold, very cold. It was the completely opposite of what you were used to, it was quite literally what you were petrified of. You left the warm sun kissing the dark little freckles on your face and exchanged the English rain dropping down on your hair. You weren’t even sure what to call it, not in English and not in Spanish either.

But even now you weren’t sure if you’d go back and stay in Barcelona. The sun might shine there most hours of the working days but you’d always be in the shadows. In the shadows of La Reina, Alexia Putellas, your sister.

The two coloured club had offered you a contract extension where you’d get paid twice the amount you did last year. You’d driven to the club like you did most days but this time you had one thing in mind, or so you thought. Signing for another three years and being the average defender in the team for whenever one of the original starters couldn’t participate.

A red and blue pen rested between your thumb and point fingers as you listened to your manager talk about the future. But most of it fell to deaf ears. “Alexia and you would be the head of the Champions League campaign. Imagine this, the Putellas hermanas on top of Europe.” he said full excitement. It wasn’t the whole campaign that set you off but how he began his sentence, ‘Alexia and you’.

You were sitting here, ready to sign your contract, for your future. They wanted you to sign and still their first thought was Alexia.

Without saying a word you stormed off. You were not doing this again for three more years.

You had spiked interest from multiple clubs, not only Europe but America too. But when Arsenal let your agency know that they wanted you, you knew that that was it. From now on you’ll be a gunner, through and through.

You got picked up from the Airport. With a sign reading ‘Putellas’. It felt good. They didn’t have to clarify which Putellas sister they were picking up, there was only one in London now, you. The bigger man, he might’ve even be twice the height of you introduced himself. And with the little English you had in store you thanked him and told him your name.

The man you now knew as Keith was a simple man. He opened the door for you and didn’t say much. You liked it that way, the silence was fine by you. You liked that the intimidating car you were sat in had tinted windows. Not so you couldn’t be seen but because it gave you some sort of comfort. When you were younger and Alexia was a rising star she had you sit in the backseat, where nobody could see you and where you’d be safe she’d say.

The little droplets of rain were doing races and you had lost for about the twentieth time when the car came to a stop. Keith grumbled something about being there and got out. You didn’t really know what to do and what they expected of you so you opened the car door. Picking your bags up you placed your right foot outside and your left followed.

It all went too fast, Jonas showed almost all the rooms in the building and the wet pitches that were not in any state to be used. You had to film a few shots for your signing announcement, get through a few medical test and finally got to go home.

Keith drove you to your temporary apartment just a few minutes away from the training ground. You had a streak of almost one hundred days of English on Duolingo so you thanked the tall man in the few words you had learned to say and got out of the black Range Rover.

You were home. You were home, you kept repeating those words but you didn’t believe it. You were home.

This is it now. North London is your new home.

The appartement was empty except for the blank furniture, it had no personality and it was hard to think there ever would be. Four white walls, a grey couch, a black kitchen and an all white bed in the middle of your bedroom. They didn’t even tell you that the kitchen would be just as empty as the apartment.

The sound of a notification alarmed you out of your emotionless state. You forgot to put your phone on do not disturb. ‘Where are you?’ it read. Alexia knew you didn’t sign for Barca the day before but she didn’t know you’d be gone by the morning. Tapping on the do not disturb mode you traveled to your all white bed.

And that is how it went, do not disturb mode on. You we there, at the training ground and the games but not really there. You weren’t in the right mindset to talk to anyone yet and that’s why it was so goddamn frustrating when McCabe or Mead tried to get you to talk.

You sat alone at lunch, didn’t go out with your teammates and barely stayed in contact with your sister. That was until Alessia Russo came into your life.

You didn’t mean to let her in. You decided early on that you were at Arsenal for your career and career only. But she changed that, so quick. And before you knew it you were falling for her.

She came into Arsenal and everyone was a fan of her. It seemed like she was friends with everyone instantly and it made you curious.

Alessia had been a gunner for almost a week when you realised she lived across from your apartment. She came knocking on your door one evening, offering you some of het pasta since she had made too much. You knew that she’d been searching for an opportunity to get you to talk to her but you didn’t expect her to come knocking at your door like that.

You let her in and she started to talk to you. You couldn’t exactly call it a conversation since she did all the talking and you muttered out some broken English once in a while. But even though you hated to admit it, she was nice company. It made you feel less lonely, she made you feel less empty.

You’d told Alexia about your move to Arsenal before it officially came out and she wasn’t pleased, at all. She was mad, mad that you didn’t tell her earlier. You told her what had happened and what was racing through your mind when you made the decision but she just couldn’t fathom out the thought of you feeling that way. And that made you feel even less understood, it felt like your life was slipping away from you and you only made it worse with every next move you made.

But Alessia made you feel like you were okay for a moment. After the first day of eating together she offered you food almost everyday and after a month it became a tradition, you would diner together every single day and she even learned you English. You didn’t really progress in your Duolingo streak and didn’t talk much either so the help was very much needed.

It wasn’t until the first half of the season had been played that you realised you had other feelings for her. You saw her as more than just a friend. It was all going very fast and the feelings intensified by the day, that may be because she was the only one you really could talk to. It hurt you to even think about living without her and that might’ve the first warning you should’ve seen but you didn’t.

It was Alessia who kissed you first. You both had been drinking and the two empty bottles of red wine next to your grey couch were the evidence of that. Alessia was a touchy person, just like everyone in Spain so you didn’t mind. She was giggly and teasing you relentlessly.

“I bet you think about me hmm?” she hummed and started to climb on top of you. Taken aback by the movement you didn’t really react to anything she had just said. “I want to kiss you.” she whispered into your ear that was tinted red by now. You didn’t answer. “I’m gonna kiss you now, okay.” she leaned in, placing her pink lips on your red ones. It was sweet but turned desperate very quickly.

The blonde slept sweetly beside you that evening. The thoughts raced through your mind and none of them were making any sense. It was hard to think straight with Alessia next to you, that was what made things so complicated. But now that she was laying in your bed you couldn’t not have her there, you needed her.

Alessia started to stay over more and more, it became your new normal. Half of her closet was laying in yours and she even brought her favourite mug with her. You bought all her favourite foods so she would feel comfortable and she appreciated it, just not enough to stay with you.

You came home on a Thursday evening one day but Alessia was nowhere to be found. Normally she would be laying on your couch, watching some sappy Netflix show you refused to watch with her. A bowl of nuts in her hands she didn’t really like but it was a healthy snack so it would do. But the only thing you found on your couch was her blue hoodie. Well it was yours originally but she basically claimed it as hers now.

Putting your cold groceries away you walked towards Alessia’s front door. She had given you her spare key after leaving hers in her home, locking herself out for the second time. She had bought a keychain with it, a little Barca jersey with your name and number on it. You smiled down at the colourful jersey and opened the door.

Walking in you heard some laughter coming from the living room that you could describe in detail. It was a light living room with two big windows that were open at all times, she liked it that way. She bought a brown couch after you broke her beige one. You had gifted her a few plants to make the room a real living space but knew she didn’t really care for them so you’d come in and give them water.

The photo’s in her hallway were those of her mom, dad and brothers, who she adored so much. And even though she didn’t like to have pictures of herself in her home she had one of her and her best friend Ella after winning the Euros.

When you stepped into the living area you were a bit taken aback by the man sitting next to your Alessia. His left hand was draped over her shoulder, like it was the most normal thing. His right was resting on her thigh. Who was he?

You stood still, watching the pair until Alessia noticed you. Her eyes had gone wide. “Hey, what’re you doing here?” she asked carefully. You didn’t answer. “Luke, this is my teammate, and well, this is my boyfriend Luke.” she introduced you and stalked towards your frozen form.

Boyfriend? You thought..

Alessia gave her boyfriend some weak excuse and walked you back to your apartment. You were in your own home again, a safe place. When Alessia started to talk again you cut her off. “I- you have a boyfriend? I thought we had.. something?” you looked almost lost to her. “Well, you thought wrong. Whatever you thought we had, we didn’t.” she said without any emotion behind her eyes, like she hadn’t spent the whole of last week in your house, in your bed, wearing your hoodie.

She left your house like nothing had happened.

Were you really that stupid, did you really think she’d like you. You had created this whole other reality, one where she’d actually like you and wanted to be with you.

You kept to yourself even more now. Alessia had gotten you out of your shell to some extent but now you had crawled back in again. Every moment you weren’t training or playing football you were at home but it didn’t feel like home anymore. It wasn’t as empty as it was when it arrived but it felt like it. The life had gone away and that’s not something you can fix with a few overpriced paintings and some weird cactus.

You couldn’t eat dinner without Alessia, you couldn’t watch horrible movies without Alessia and you just couldn’t sleep in a bed without Alessia.

It was the one time you decided to go out and drink that she came over to talk to you again. She acted like nothing had ever happend, like it was back to normal again, like she had slept in your bed the day before. But you liked it, craved it even. You had longed for Alessia to come back again and save you from yourself.

So she ended up in your bed and stayed long enough for you to fall asleep. But not long enough for you to wake up to her scent or her sleepy blue eyes and messy blonde hair.

It went on like that, she came home with you for the night and you forgot about all the things she had done to you and you woke up to an empty bed. You did feel bad for the Luke guy, well you did in the beginning but somewhere along the way you started to lose that sympathy.

You were mad. Angry. He could drive her to training and hold her hand out in public. He could kiss her on the streets and wake up to her snuggled next to him. He could have all those domestic little moments and gestures you longed for. It wasn’t fair.

Alessia had prepared dinner for the both of you and you were watching a movie when you felt the need to talk to her about this whole situation. “Lessi, i really like you. I want you and i to be together because i love you.” there, you said it. Alessia didn’t look at you, she stared blankly at the movie infront of her. You reached for the distraction playing on the television and paused it but she still wouldn’t look you in the eyes.

“I love you.” you repeated again, hoping for a response. She sighed, “Look, i don’t know what you think we are but we aren’t that. I don’t know how many times i have to tell you this but i have a boyfriend and you’re just there for a quick fuck. That’s all. You’re not special just because your sister has won a few trophies. I can’t do anything about the fact that you’re fucking lonely but leave me out of it.” she hissed.

You just said you loved her, for the first time. You handed her your fucking heart and she stomped on it like it was nothing. Alesia knew your relationship with your sister was complicated and being in her shadows was something that hurt you the most in this world, but yet she brought it up. You’d told her everything you never dared to say out loud and she used it to damage you even more. She is your whole world but to her you’re a ‘quick fuck’.

You were hers but she’d never be yours

“Please go away.” you asked her, tears threatening to escape your tired glossy eyes.

You were left alone in your apartment and the loneliness was more torturous than ever. The fucking lasagna Alessia had made you had turned cold and you looked at the wooden table infront of you. There was a picture of you and Alexia framed, Alessia had printed it out to make you feel more like home but it only made you miss it more, especially now.

Looking at your phone you opened your chat with your sister. You hadn’t texted her in about a month, the last text being about your mothers birthday that you couldn’t attend.

You needed her, you needed you sister to protect you. You needed her to protect you from the sun and to place you in her shadows again. For once it was all you desired.

A/N let me know what you think of the fic!! Also, i don’t know if i should write a second part and if or how i should end up Alessia and R together. I could make R fall in love with someone else too??

[atiianeishaunted]

blue writing is lance's notes fyi anyway uhh character bios below !! long ass writing warning but worth it i promise chat pspsp | no notes version AND the transparent PNGS down at the end!

character bios:

Allura [???] | A lone princess who is burnt out and stressed out her mind, her only solace/stress relief being the garden she has where she can have peace and quiet, shutting her brain off while she does the tasks of tending to her precious plants and bugs. She tries her best to remain as friendly and optimistic as possible, if not for her own sanity, however thanks to the stress and pressure put on her, she has a tendency to lose her cool and sometimes shut down entirely. She has a passion for commanding and loves honing her fighting skills as that was one of the ways she bonded with her father. She more often than not can be seen in comfortable clothes, she doesnt mind dresses and does enjoy dressing up but will only do it when shes going out the castle or theres a meeting. | this gal couldve been an burnt out autistic queen DREAMWORKS, YOU COUDLVE MADE HER ICONIC .... let her be a dorky nerd whos a hater sometimes, pretty please

Takashi Shirogane | A garrison commander (no one is really sure of his job title to be honest with you..) who's insanely passionate about his job, to the point where hes willing to sacrifice it all if the garrison wills it. Anything to serve. He tries his best to fit in and be hip with the kids, he tries to come across as the 'chill' teacher, but students of his have reported that after a few months, any amount of chillness is thrown out the window. If not that, hes often not even in class, too busy doing missions he wasnt assigned to. He's intense. Very intense. Knows his way around words though for the most part, can be very convincing and a bit maniuplative, very goal driven. He means well though? Thats what he says. He always throws a quick sorry if someone brings it up with him, so that must mean something. | sorry in advance if you follow along with Sonder's story... unrelated but dreamworks wrote a banger antagonist without even realizing!

"Keith" Kogane / "Morse" | Unknown origins. He was a talented garrison pilot who could practically fly with his eyes closed, a jack of all trades, short tempered and prone to losing it but all things considered, the perfect cadet for the garrison's goals, he came out of nowhere practically, just poofed in like a ghost and wiped the floor with everyone. He really just needed a good guiding hand. No one is quite sure what gender he is, his androgynous appearance and tendency to respond to anything besides being called a girl have people baffled to say the least. He's very clearly not all there in the head either which goes hand in hand with his odd bursts of ego and then odd bursts of whining, these bursts often include talks that could only be described as cult-ish. People have their theories. Beyond those bursts, hes mostly very deadpan and quiet. But despite his strength and that intense feeling of fear and dread people get when they're around him, he's.. popular, somehow. Admired greatly for his devilish good looks. A universal appeal if you will. He doesn't seem to notice. Or perhaps doesnt care. Either way he's far too busy following Shiro around and treating him like the second coming of god to really indulge in romance for now. Lance's self proclaimed rival, Keith is also unaware of this. | also sorry in advance for this one if you follow sonder's storyline Lance McClain | A former Garrison cargo pilot who moved up in rank when Keith got kicked out. Keith is his rival and also all that Lance can talk about, even after the guy got kicked out and left for dead (Lance overheard some things while sneaking out past the teacher's lounge). He has a very noticable personality and loves to be the center of attention, hes still finding his footing and figuring out what he wants to do with his life and who he wants to be. Despite his many claims, hes not all that popular. He can't really flirt with girls all too well. His general goal is to be so well known so he won't ever be forgotten, hence why he begged his mom to let him dye his hair and get piercings (if he used Keith as an argument, thats none of your business.) (he saw keith dying his hair once or twice and instantly wanted to copy, its a bad habit.). He loves LOVES taking care of his appearance and is fairly vain, he has extensive routines and will freak out if he can't follow them. His ego and overbearing confidence is all to drown out his deep insecurities and fears. He tries his best to come across as a suave, cool, charming, awesome, any positive adjective really, person but in all reality he's a mama's boy, a dork, a loser if you will who has a love for the retro and is a huge gamer. If he must admit, he and Keith'd get along great actually, Keith ticks alot of boxes and honestly Lance deeply admires him and wants to be like him. | dreamworks dropped that lance was a gamer and loved retro stuff and then never talked about it again. sigh. Hunk Garrett | Hunk has many passions, mainly inspired by parents, he mainly specializes in cooking and mechanics, he enjoys tinkering with things, taking them apart to see how they work and working from there to see if he can rebuild it with 0 instruction, hes gotten good at it. He's Lance's childhood best friend, they're extremely close and are often seen constantly poking fun at eachother. Its all in good fun though. Hunk struggles extremely with anxiety and has a service dog back home that he left at home when heading to the Garrison as he worried he couldn't take care of it while studying. Despite his anxiety, he quite enjoys talking to people and sharing things he enjoys with them, he often tries to get over his fears by branching out and | I looked up his name from the old show because he deserves an 'actual' name, free my boy, he was done so dirty, also i remember when we all thought hunk had two moms (or was that just me ..) and i live by it tbh, two moms and a dad whos still active in his life, 3 whole parents for the greatest fella ever

Pidge Holt | Not much can be said about Pidge, they keep to themselves and don't share much about themselves. Just like Keith, their gender is often up to debate and when asked, Pidge will never give a consistent answer. They're a major tech wiz and with their talents, they're a complete menace. Pidge is prone to being mischevious and pranking others, often taking jokes a bit too far. They're egotistical and find that robots are their preferred companions in comparison to humans. | loser chronically online 13 year old who would tell you to kys, matt probably has to take away their electronics all the time LMFAO purposely made their outfit look a bit strange bc , theyre a kid whos a NERD /aff let them dress a bit stupid and let them cringe at it 5 years later ty

No notes version and PNGS below :-)

im insane about this reboot!! please reblog and im willing to elaborate if anyone wants me to <333 hrgfhrfg i really want this to take off bwaa

[dragonhybrid456]

CAN YOU WRITE KIETH OR LANCE X MALE READER

OR, OR, OR VOLTRON X READER HEADCANONS!! DATING OR CRUSHES OR COURTING IDC BUT USE GENDER NEUTRAL READER SO EVERYONE CAN READ IT ☺️

PLEASE

I went with the dating headcannons, hope you like them :)

Warning!! I have not finished Voltron completely yet, but I do know bits and pieces so this might be a bit ooc

Voltron dating headcannons (GN reader)

Keith:

* I like to think that his love language is acts of service

* He’s very new to the whole “dating” thing and isn’t really good with his words so he relies on doing things for you

* Need help training? He’s got you. Stressed out? He’s not the best at it, but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t try and help his lover

* I don’t see Keith as the type of guy to use a lot of pet names

* Like dont get me wrong, I love pet names, but I personally can’t see Keith using them

* As tough and mean he is to others, you see a softer side of him

* Not in a “he’s really a big baby on the inside” crap

* More of a “he feels more calm and relaxed around you”

* After a stressful mission, he will definitely enter your room without a word and just flop either next to you or on top of you

* No words would be expressed, all he needs is some quiet and you to decompress

* In no way would he EVER let you get hurt

* This man will protect you with his life

* He can’t stand the thought of losing you, it kills him just thinking about the “what if” situations

* Not a big social person, but if you are then I think he will at least tag along for the ride

* Keith definitely worries that he’s not the “best” or “ideal” boyfriend for you

* He’s part Galra, he’s mean, he’s abrasive, he’s stubborn, what could you possibly see in him?????

* He needs a reminder now and then that he’s enough for you and that you love him

* You’ll sometimes find him late at night in the training room if he’s had a tough day

* You’ll have to physically drag him into bed and hold him down for him to sleep

Lance:

* Oh boy, he’s not called “lover boy” for no reason

* Absolutely loves to compliment you every single day

* Calls you stuff like, “mi amor” and “my girl/boy/partner”

* He likes to show you off and talks about you a lot

* Honestly the rest of the team is a little sick of it but they are also happy that he found someone like you

* Takes you on joy ride in his lion when he has some downtime

* He gets an earful from Allura

* His love language is definitely physical affection

* He loves holding your hands, your hugs, kissing you any chance he gets, and cuddling you

* Thinks he’s the big spoon but is really the little spoon most of the time

* When he gets homesick, he likes to be around you and talk to you to distract himself

* But some nights he’s crying in your arms, missing home, missing his family, and not knowing if or when he gets to see them again

* He likes to tell you stories from when he was little, what his family is like, and stories from his time at the garrison

* Will complain to you about how Keith annoyed him this time

* Overall, definitely a great lover

Shiro:

* Shiro is definitely more experienced with love than the other two

* He calls you stuff like “darling” “sweetheart” and other cute older pet names

* His love languages are quality time and acts of service

* I like to think that with all the excitement and craziness that comes with being apart of Voltron that he likes to just spend time with his lover and relax

* You two don’t even have to be doing something together

* He could be reading while your in the same room doing something completely different and he wouldn’t mind, just as long as he’s around you after such a stressful day

* Has severe PTSD and get nightmares almost every night

* He’s used to dealing with it alone but once you enter the picture he’s gonna have to get used to you waking up with him to comfort him

* Always tells you to go back to sleep and that “it’s nothing” but you know better than that

* He also has some self esteem issues about his metal arm, being disgusted by it some days and wanting nothing more than for it to disappear

* Please comfort him, space dad needs some love 🥺

* Likes to listen to you talk, your voice grounding him to reality and comforting him in times of need

* Like Keith, he is also protective of you

* After Adams death, he can’t help but have nightmares of you meeting the same fate

* Sometimes he becomes so paranoid about it that you have fights about missions you are sent on

* He knows you can take care of yourself, he trained you after all, but that won’t ease his nerves and memories about Adam

Hunk

* MY FAVORITE BOY 😍😍😍

* He’s so sweet to you, you don’t understand!

* He likes to call you “baby” “baking partner” or just a shorten version of your name if you have one

* His love languages is definitely gift giving and physical affection

* He loves cooking and baking new recipes for you to try and give him feedback

* With physical affection, he’s gonna be a bit nervous in the beginning about it, having never been in a relationship before, but he slowly starts to get more into it

* Hand holding, cuddling, hugging, there all his favorite ways to say he loves you

* He definitely one of the more nervous one when it comes to you fighting along side Voltron

* Hunk himself is more of a pacifist and is therefore already a little uneasy about even HIMSELF fighting

* So for you, his lover, to be put in the front lines with them has him very uneasy and nervous

* He just loves you so much he would never forgive himself if something happened to you 🥺

* He is always there if you have something on your mind that’s bothering you

* Whether it’s something small or large, he will always listen to you

* And vice versa, if he has something on his mind, be there for him cause he sometimes feels like he’s not listened to by the others

Pidge

* Definitely the least experienced out of the group (her and Keith are like neck and neck)

* I don’t see her using pet names, much like Keith

* Idk it just strikes me as odd for her to use pet names

* She definitely has stupid nicknames for you, but not stuff like baby or sweetheart

* If you don’t like that, sue me

* Her love language is definitely quality time

* She likes when you come around while she’s working on a new project so she can geek out about it

* You don’t even have to understand anything she says, she just likes when you’re around her when she’s working

* Also has you test some of the safer projects, she would never let you NEAR the more outrageous ones

* Unlike the others, she’s actually really open to you fighting along side her

* Don’t get me wrong, she would murder everyone if you got hurt, but she likes working with you and strategizing

* Will make you a weapon and enhanced suit if you asked

* Even if you don’t, she probably already has them in the works

[doc-pickles]

waking up in vegas | matthew tkachuk x hughes!sister (p. 2)

series masterlist

summary: the hughes-tkachuk family thanksgiving dinner from hell

warnings: mentions vomiting

a/n: here’s part two of my matty fic! hope y’all enjoy :)

xoxo

nina

Your parents' living room is loud and boisterous as everyone mills around for an early Thanksgiving dinner. The dinner had been a Hughes-Tkachuk tradition for as long as you could remember, but this year your stomach rolled uneasily at the thought of having to sit at a table and lie to everyone at it.

“Did the annulment go through?”

Matthew’s voice makes you jump as you turn to face him. His stubble has grown out into the beginnings of a beard and you can’t deny it’s a good look on him.

“About that,” your eyes shift down to your boots as you speak quietly. “They can’t annul it, we’re going to have to get a legal divorce.”

Matthew doesn’t say anything, simply drags you down the hall into one of the spare bedrooms before closing the door and looking at you with wide eyes.

“What do you mean we need a divorce? I thought we could get it annulled and pretend like it never happened,” Matthew's tone was incredulous as he stared at you.

“Me too but apparently when you marry someone with a multimillion-dollar hockey contract that complicates things,” you swallow down the bile trying to climb your throat as you look up at Matthew. His gaze softens and you realize you must look scared shitless right now. “Listen I’ll figure it out okay? It’s not a big deal.”

Without warning, Matthew pulls you into a hug and you breathe in his warm woodsy scent, grounding yourself in the contact. You take a shaky breath as he runs a hand down your back, “Let me know how I can help, okay? I don’t want you stressing over this and it takes two to tango anyways.”

You barely hold back the urge to laugh at his statement, Matthew not knowing how true his words are. Instead, you nod and stay there for a few more comforting seconds before he pulls away, “You okay?”

Nodding you meet Matthew's eyes, “Can we talk after dinner?”

“Sure,” Matthew nods and presses a kiss to your forehead before he gives you one last smirk and leaves the room.

When you leave a few minutes later, everyone is starting to sit down around the table. You take your spot next to Luke and across from Matthew who winks at you as you sit. He groans and you see Quinn glaring at him, assuming your brother had kicked him under the table.

“Table is getting full,” Keith chuckles as he looks between all of the kids, Emma now seated next to Brady. “Might need a bigger one next year.”

Your mother lets out a huff and as soon as you look at her you know whatever comes out of her mouth next isn’t going to be good.

“I’d say so. In fact, I think someone here has a little announcement they want to make,” as you scan the table and meet Matthew’s gaze your stomach drops, both of your faces blanching. “Who wants to share?”

You and Matthew break away from each other's stares to look around at all of your siblings. None of them look like they’re quite sure what’s happening, but they all keep flicking back to you and Matthew.

“Mom-”

“Anyone want to tell me why there was a pregnancy test in the guest bath? A positive one at that?”

Your mouth snaps shut at your moms admission and side glances immediately start flying across the table. Most eyes turn to Brady and Emma, the newlyweds shaking their heads. Emma grabs her wine and takes a hearty sip before answering your mom, “Not me, I’m very much still enjoying my wine.”

Eyes dart around the table again and you can tell the moment Luke spots your can of Coke next to his bottle of beer, a long and loud groan leaving him, “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”

“Luke Warren Hughes! Language,” your father scolds, but you can barely register his chastising as you lock eyes with your twin.

“Okay but who’s pregnant?” Jack asks cluelessly as he continues to look around the table. “If it’s not Emma it’s Taryn or- Oh my god!”

You can feel every set of eyes at the table fall onto you but you can only meet Matthew’s gaze across the table, his blue eyes wide and searching as he stares you down. You hold his gaze until Quinn and Jack both start yelling simultaneously.

“Are you kidding me? You knocked up my sister you fucking douche canoe!”

“Holy shit! Holy shit this is from Vegas? First, you marry my sister then you knock her up?!”

At Jack and Quinn’s outbursts, you push your head into your hands as all four of your parents begin to hurl questions across the table. The noise leaves your head swimming as bile begins to rise up your throat, everyone around you shouting.

“Wait, Matthew got you pregnant?”

“What the hell happened in Vegas?”

“Did he just say you're married? How long have you two been together?”

“Does this mean we’re all going to be grandparents?”

As everyone continues to yell over the table you do the only thing you can think to do. Leaning to your right you promptly throw up your meager lunch into the potted plant next to you. Everyone stops as you continue to throw up and you vaguely register your mom ushering everyone out of the room while a hand settles on your back. You’re not entirely sure who’s holding you but the hand on your back is comforting.

“S’okay, I got you,” you’re slightly shocked when Matthew’s voice sounds out as his hand rubs your back. “Fun dinner huh?”

You huff out a laugh as you finally stop retching, looking over your shoulder at Matthew, “No one got a chance to take a single bite.”

There’s a silent minute where you’re simply breathing and trying to ground yourself before Matthew asks with a small voice, “You okay?”

Nodding slightly you sit up and face him, “I’m fine. Besides single-handedly ruining Thanksgiving and not being able to keep any food besides cranberry sauce down all day.”

Matthew chuckles as he runs a hand over his face, “Hey at least we had the common sense to get married before having a baby, huh?”

You both sit in silence for a second before a bubble of laughter bursts out from you, Matthew joining in. You look at him with a small smile, leaning your head against his shoulder, “I found out last night, I was going to tell you after dinner. I didn’t want to freak you out before we had to sit down and lie to everyone about being married, but here we are.”

“It’s okay. At least we don’t have to stress about telling everyone,” you’re both quiet for a second before Matthew whispers his next words. “You… Do you want to keep it?”

“Yes,” you answer quickly as you focus on your fingers. “Yes I… I hope that’s okay.”

Matthew nods, pulling you closer before speaking, “I… Yeah. We’ll figure it out, okay? Don’t worry about it.”

“Did you stop puking yet?” Luke asks as he sticks his head around the corner. Seeing you and Matthew sitting together he rolls his eyes. “Good. Can you please go into the living room before someone in there combusts? I think dad and Keith are about to start throwing punches.”

Matthew helps you up and you walk hand in hand to the living room. Keith and your dad are yelling and Quinn is trying (and failing) to explain what happened in Vegas to your mom.

“You think if we slip out they’d notice?” Matthew whispers right next to your ear and you have to stop yourself from letting out a full body shudder at the feeling.

“Unfortunately, yes. Plus I’m getting kind of hungry so I want to wrap this up and get back to dinner as soon as possible.”

Matthew chuckles behind you and everyone seems to realize you two are standing there. Your dad takes a step forward, but you put your hand up to stop him from coming any closer as you step in front of Matthew.

“Okay so we’re not going to threaten to beat up the man you’ve known since he was five,” you fix your dad with a knowing look before eyeing your brothers over his shoulder. “You three are included in that.”

“Why don’t we just let the kids explain what happened,” Chantal broaches from her spot on the couch next to your mom. “Maybe we have the story wrong.”

“Ummm so we went to Las Vegas… And then we got married,” you can’t meet anyone’s eyes as you speak but Matthew grabs your hand again and squeezes it comfortingly. “So there-“

“You got married because you were drunk and couldn’t find something better to do,” your father asked as he stared at you and Matthew.

“Jim!”

“No, Dad-“

“Well it’s fine they can just get it annulled,” Keith says from his spot across the room.

“Not if she’s pregnant,” Chantal shrieks and you can feel your heartbeat pick up. “You are pregnant, right?”

You nod, feeling tears prickling your eyes as your parents begin to speak again.

“What if it’s not even Matthew’s?”

“Well you can’t have a baby out of wedlock! Even if it’s not his-“

“You saying my daughter is a-“

“I didn’t say that! I’m just suggesting-“

“Listen I know that all of this wasn’t planned but both of us are responsible adults who can make decisions on our own,” Matthew interrupts your parents bickering and you don’t realize you're harshly squeezing his hand until he pulls you back into chest. “Can we table this conversation and eat dinner? Please?”

Everyone files back into the dining room and you cast a grateful look to Luke who’s taken the seat across from you so Matthew can sit next to you. Plates get passed around and when everyone is eating you finally breathe a sigh of relief.

“So besides the impromptu elopement, how was Vegas?” your mom asks with a small grin and a chorus of laughter sounds from the table.

Left it kind of open ended but I love writing the Hughes/Tkachuk gang so maybe another part?

[mistkisbiggestfan]

heyyyy i just wanted t ask if you could post a part two to white lion i have reread it so many times its totally ok if you are taking a break to work on mental health or would prefer writting stuff you choose this just a silly little request (sorry i there is spelling mistakes my english isnt that good)

Pidge / Reader | White Lion - Complete rewrite - Part I

Rewrite of the fic I still have up on this blog!!

A/n: I'm back?? I think?

Words: 1221

With insomnia nothing’s real, you learn that early on, everything’s far enough to be impossible to reach. Stuck inside an endless loop, a sort of unbreakable cycle. Back then; you were not ready for failure of any kind.

As a White Paladin of Voltron your sole mission was to protect other paladins and people around you. That’s all the White Paladin was, a glorified version of a healing pod, and you hated it. Everyone neglected you, not as a friend of course, but as a valuable fighter and defender of the universe. A medic was what you were made out to be, a brute by nature and a pacifist by force, all you could do was save, even if you tried to charge into battle you were quickly pushed off – back to the sidelines. Allura told you before; each Lion has a unique bond to a specific, and only one, Paladin. Sealed by fate, with no choice, you stayed.

The only one treating you fairly was your lover, Pidge. Both young prodigies, top students of Garrison, with a heart of gold and a particularly sharp and witty comebacks. Made for each other it seemed. They actually appreciated the help they got from you during and out of battle, that was, to your dismay, cut short. As war with Galra raged on, everyone forgot about any other struggles disregarding the threat across the universe.

Soon, Pidge began to share the view about you with other paladins, bit by bit, you realized that now, not a single soul believed in you being anything else but support — You were young, skillful in this specific subject, and rather weak at first glance, but you were more than that, more than what they made you out to be.

Often, on different restless nights, you were left wondering certain things. ‘Am I just a waste to them? Keith already said that, do others agree with him? What does Pidge think?’ All loose questions tied neatly with a string of paranoia and a hint of anxiety building up.  And like that, the overthinking pursued. No one even noticed you staying out of conversations, blindly following orders, no one noticed because it was making everything so much easier. Hunk asked you at times; “Hey Y/N.. you seem quiet lately, everything alright?” But just a few words were enough to shoo him away. “Yeah, don’t worry about me. I’m the White Paladin, remember?” You often said, but you never voiced the rest of this sentence you grew to mutter each day: “The one who is supposed to help.” And Hunk, begrudgingly, let go.

Keith outright believed you were too young and just a nuisance on the battlefield; you suspected he had something against you because you caught onto him and his feelings regarding Lance, as he, himself, wasn’t yet able to face those feelings. The thought that someone knew made him defensive. At least Lance was oblivious enough for this to not be too much of an awkward situation, from what all others knew, besides you it seemed, Lance and Keith hated each other. Or, at very least, strongly disliked each other's presence. At first, before you became a nuisance, your insomnia induced night walks roaming the Castle grounds were often guided by different team members, Shiro eased your mind by comforting, Hunk baked with you, Coran told stories of the White Paladins before you — not many, but still. Allura didn’t have to say a word, as you treasured her camaraderie dearly. Lance made a habit of beauty sleepovers, and even Keith offered you a sparring match from time to time, even though he still argued with others he disliked you greatly. At times like these, you often resided with Pidge. They had a bad habit of staying way up into the night to focus on their work, not from their insomnia, but from a severe case of workaholism.

You liked to walk into their room quietly, your own feet dragging you to their room as you hadn’t even registered. You walked all the way there, sitting down beside them as they worked away on their laptop. Without a word, passing out from exhaustion next to them, feeling safe enough to let go, even if it was only for an hour or two. Waking up tired, but not overwhelmingly lonely and disoriented, as their hand around yours grounded you like an anchor. But what times often do is change. Comfort made you weak enough to believe it’ll last forever, but with a heavy heart you realized — nothing does. Your life hit a rocky path, if it can still do that after getting dragged against your will into an intergalactic war with all hopes resting on you and other bunch of dysfunctional young adults, your insomnia got worse, getting pushed off to the sidelines too.

You were a Paladin, and with an actual bond with a Lion no less, so why were you stuck organizing missions with Allura as Coran talked your ear off? Was it stupid you were jealous of each successful mission, as they came back in glee and the thrill of winning yet another battle? Maybe. Did you still feel through it like an overwhelming blade stuck inside that twisted each time you realized you were just a backup plan? Yes. All you wanted was to prove yourself, you could be useful, really. But each time Shiro said that you’re enough, you felt as if the words hitting your ears were hollow. No one assisted your nightly walks anymore. Pidge was busy. Way more busy than you had ever seen them, there was no comfort in the galaxy you could give them for them to stop their work for even a second. Realizing that leaving them alone was the best thing you could give them, you did just that, and to your small heartbreak, you received no words addressing the fact, no complaints either. Getting as desperate as walking into the training room, in case Keith was staying up late too, you often were met with nothing. Sometimes, Keith was there, but most times your ears were met with sharp yet tired words; “You shouldn’t train this late, a medic shouldn't be half-dead each day.” And with a roll of your eyes, you often walked out.

Sometimes, you stood there a second longer, savoring the meeting, and letting the hatred built up as your mind was screaming: “I’m not just a medic! I’m a Paladin just like you!”. But in the end, you sat in that cold, and now, lonely, room of yours.

Your eyes scanning over the same wall you always faced. Tired gaze raking through the metal, dissecting it into pieces, logic you couldn’t grasp. At times like this, moments before shutting off from complete exhaustion, even you had no idea how to comprehend the drive that was pushing you at such times.

Maybe tomorrow, it’ll all make sense. Maybe tomorrow won’t be just a copy of today, which was just a copy of yesterday.

At least, tomorrow, you’ll finally go on a mission, after this whole time, which felt like eternity and a second, all too far to understand and grasp. With that thought, you had no idea what came next, as your exhausted body hit the bed.

You passed out.

Again.

[coffee-flavored-mochi]

best voltron fics i've found on ao3:

(in no particular order, just ones i like)

(also most of these are klance btw)

-"Fighting the Surface" by tommino

-(klance)hurt!lance and a little hurt!keith. tw near character death and also tw drowning. super good fic, pretty emotional, not too long of a read, less than 20k words.

-"nothing's quite as sweet" by dimple for your thoughts

-(klance) literally the cutest slow burn klance fic. it's only 50k words, but its literally just a cute barista!keith and cat shelter worker!lance fic and i love it. a little bit of hurt/comfort, but nothing too bad.

-"you never stood a chance" by kagshina

-(klance) cute little college fic where lance falls for keith. only 12k words, warning for a bit of second hand embarrassment lol.

-"The Marks We Make" by wittyy_name

-(klance) another college fic, also a soulmate au! kind of a long one (over 250k words) but such a cute slowburn. also has super cute artwork by sora linked into the fic. one of my absolute faves <3<3

-"Shut Up and Dance With Me" by wittyy_name

-(klance) another amazing fic by wittyy_name (an amazing author, pls check out all their fics) a cute little enemies-to-lovers dance!au, also around 250k words. need to give this one a re-read since it's been a while, but overall an amazing fic and i love it so much!

-"Nightmares" by Trashness

-(klance) amazing little one-chapter fic abt keith and lance sharing the same bed due to nightmares (as the title suggests). only around 15k words, so a short little read, but it's a very good read!

-"call me, beep me" by orphan_account

-(klance) cute little wrong number!au where lance accidentally texts a wrong number (keith) and then they fall in love 😈 its 85k words and a bit of a slow burn, and i'm pretty sure it's the voltron fic with the most kudos on ao3!

-"O Come Let Us Adore Him" by Bandity

-(no ships) this one isn't a klance fic, but is def a heavy hurt!lance fic. tw for manipulation, hallucinations, non-con, eating issues, and some other things. i like this one a bunch because it not only shows the bad shit lance goes through, but the aftermath as well. less than 35k words but a really great story overall.

-"Looking Death in the Eye" by IcyPanther

-(no ships) okay so this one isn't a klance fic either but it is honestly an amazing one and doesn't get the recognition it deserves. it doesn't have any ships or anything, but is about lance having to save the entire team during a sick game a random villain lures them into. i love fics about torturing my favorite characters (like lance) and this one does that so so so well. pls give it a read 🙏🙏 also its only 16k words so you can read it super fast!!

[blanceyblance]

On Lance and Keith, and the water/fire and sun/moon dynamics

Saw a post talking about how Lance and Keith are actually more like the other's element and is a really interesting but I found myself disagreeing though I didn't want to argue in OPs post.

I remember there was a part that said that Keith had to mold himself for survival, and, for what I remember, Keith very much does NOT do that.

Someone who molds himself to fit better would have gone into the Garrison to become a model of a perfect cadet, instead Keith is rebellious, and is not afraid of confrontation. He challenges Iverson and fights James and doesn't care if he makes an enemy out of the rest of the other cadets. They don't like it? sucks to suck because he is that good and he knows he is good.

In that same Garrison flashback, Lance actually tells Keith that if Keith keeps messing around he will be stuck as a cargo pilot, Lance tries to follow instructions, molds himself to be a good cadet because that's what is expected for him to be a fighter pilot, only that, things don't go that way, Keith is the one becoming a fighter pilot instead.

Even in his role as Black Paladin, Keith doesn't mold himself as much as he grows into it, like a flame growing to consume space.

Keith is a very straight forward guy, and rarely if ever, tries to hide his feelings, he is very sincere in what he does and means and he does things because he thinks is the best for everyone.

Take leaving the team for the Blades, while I do think he also did it so Lance didn't have to feel left out, I think he also did it so he could go and find more about his origins and himself, making what he thought was the best decision for both the team and himself.

What i'm trying to say is that t I never got the impression that Keith was afraid of showing himself. Just like a fire that doesn't change itself to fit in one place. He can be abrasive and powerful and hurtful like a wildfire and can also be warm and comforting and protective from the harsh circumstances like a fireplace. The presentation is the same, he just needed to learn to channel it better.

And that's why I think Lance had a bone to pick with him, or at least one of the reasons.

The previous description fits Lance to a tee, he can be downright mean and bitchy when he wants but also will give you friendly words and comfort when needed. Just like water can be overpowering and traitorous like the ocean while also bringing life and cleansing.

The thing is that while Keith didn't feel the need to mold for others, Lance does it with a lot of ease.

Being either a friendly welcoming face for the aliens they encounter, an emotional support for his team, a goodball to lift spirits for his friends, or a right hand man to two different leaders.

There is a reason he was usually referred as a jack of all trades just like Blue, not the tankiest or the fastest but it will be hard to find a place he won't be able to fill.

That's also while I support the sun Keith/moon Lance dynamic.

No matter how emo or mysterious he is, Keith shines bright not caring who may end up burning on his path, he is powerful and brilliant and good luck trying to ignore that. He burns but knowing he exists gives you hope for a new day. "He is the future" just like Lance said.

While Lance is the moon, who is always the same but will take on different faces depending the situation, the fact that you can stare directly at him doesn't mean he is letting you see the full picture. He shines in the dark offering guide in hard times but also caring for his team from afar as the resident sniper. Nurturing and kind, always tied to the waters and Earth.

They are still very similar, that's why they are a duo but I still think Keith at his core is fire just like Lance's is water.

And also to spread the Sun Keith/Moon Lance agenda.

[maboroshi-no]

Hamefura LN4 SS (Animate)

Series: My Next Life as a Villainess: All Routes Lead to Doom! Source: Light novel volume 4, Bonus paper Store: Animate Synopsis: Geordo's POV of the scene where he hugs Katarina to comfort her after she tells him she had a nightmare. Translation: maboroshi-no

Translation below ⮟

Geordo's POV

I opened my eyes, roused by the sunlight shining from the window. When I looked at my side, the man sharing my room was still in bed. He was most likely awake since he seemed to be reacting to the sounds of my moves, but he did not show any sign of getting up. Oh well, I didn't mind it since it was a pain to have the same exchanges every single time after he got up. And he probably felt the same way.

That man from the Ministry of Magic called Sora accompanying us on this trip indeed seemed to be competent, but considering the chain of events, I just couldn't view him favorably. Why? While I couldn't firmly confirm that he was the actual kidnapper, he was a man suspected of having pushed down the kidnapped Katarina on the bed and kissed her neck. For that reason, I took some distance from him even while sharing the room.

When I turned my eyes away from Sora and looked outside the window, I could see townspeople starting to move here and there. As this sight captivated my interest, I got up from bed, hurriedly tidied my appearance, and set out.

I was planning on taking a little walk around the inn while enjoying the morning sun and the scent of the greenery, but when I stepped forward, there was a very familiar figure.

Geordo: Katarina?

When I called out to her, she turned around and greeted me with "Good morning" but… when I approached her and looked at her closely,

Geordo: What happened to your head?

There was a plant or something on her head. Many green-colored things were stuck on it.

Katarina exclaimed, "Eh?!', looking confused. I extended my hand to her head, then,

Geordo: This is stuck on your head.

I showed her the thing I took off her head. Katarina intently stared at it before touching her head.

Katarina: …Why are they�� Ah!

Katarina appeared to have realized something. She started stamping her feet in a very frustrated way.

When she was like that, nothing I said reached her. I knew this from having been with her for so long. For the time being, I waited for her to come back to me.

Katarina finally seemed to calm down. I took off the things stuck on her hair. Because I couldn't bear to watch Katarina trying to remove them herself so clumsily, and also because I wanted to touch her hair after a long while.

Geordo: Here you go. I took them all off.

After I had finished taking them all off, I tapped Katarina's head.

Katarina: Thank you very much.

Geordo: Please don't mention it. By the way, what happened for you to be up so early?

Ordinarily, Katarina would always sleep until the very last minute. For her to be up so early, it was very unusual.

Katarina: Ah, yes. I had a scary dream and it kind of woke me up…

Geordo: A scary dream?

Katarina: Yes. I don't remember it well, but… It made me feel very uneasy…

After she had said this, Katarina's expression stiffened.

Geordo: …As I thought, there was no way you could not feel uneasy.

Several days after her younger brother Keith had gone missing, Katarina had remained cheerful, believing he had just run away from home and would surely return soon. But I realized there was still uneasiness deep in her heart. Katarina herself still showed a completely oblivious expression, though.

Geordo: To me, he is quite a troublesome opponent, but he is your precious family. To tell the truth, I was planning on approaching you more during this trip… But I guess I will hold back this time.

Keith Claes. My opponent who spent the most time with Katarina just because he was her brother, and on whom Katarina put her trust. To me, he was a troublesome opponent and probably my biggest rival. But he was Katarina's precious family and, I suppose, my childhood friend and friend. Just this once, I guess I would exceptionally not get ahead of him.

Geordo: Besides, you seem to have completely forgotten what you were finally aware of… So I will stop at this for now.

Katarina finally realized my feelings just a little before but she had completely forgotten about them. The feelings of loneliness that welled up inside me matched the extreme happiness I had felt then.

I extended my arms to Katarina and pulled her to my chest. Katarina's small body completely fit inside my arms.

Katarina had completely grown into an adult woman. Her body was soft and gave off a very nice fragrance. I could hardly approach my fiancée for a while due to terrible hindrances, so I would enjoy her to my heart's content. Aaah, I wanted to stay like this and never let her go. Normally, I would want to wed her immediately and make her mine alone.

But this blissful time didn't last long. Someone's arm suddenly reached us and tore me and Katarina apart.

Sora: Hello, good morning, Prince Geordo, Lady Katarina!

When I looked to my side, a smiling Sora was standing there. The offender appeared to be him.

Geordo: …Sora, I do think you can overlook this much.

When I looked at Sora with a sullen face, Sora replied with a grin.

Sora: This is just my mission.

Geordo: I have the feeling that's not the only reason, though.

Sora: That's not true.

He gave me a completely unfazed reply. I had the feeling that man would be a troublesome opponent in a different way than my current rivals. I internally breathed out a sigh over the multitude of rivals that had increased over the years.

[hawkinsquarry]

❝  please don’t go—  i need.  i need someone—  i need you.  ❞ and ❝  it doesn’t have to mean anything,  i just don’t wanna feel lonely tonight. and i want to feel good for once.  ❞ is making me feel things. honestly needy steve begging to not be lonely sounds lovely but either way ❤️

how could i say goodbye? - steve x gn!reader

no pronouns for reader used; fluff, angst; hurt/comfort; sharing a bed; friends to lovers; love confessions; steve cry :(; brief mention of p*rn section at fam video but nothing in depth!

You’ve seen Steve like this before. Beaten up, bruised, a bit bloody. You’ve seen him wear the scars after. Borrowing Robin’s concealer for a cut lip and making up lies about being a klutz. You’ve bandaged him up, grabbed an ice pack and a handful of ibuprofen and sat them down on his bedside table, taking in his sleeping face before shutting off the light and going home.

This time, he’s scared. Everyone is. The world’s up in smoke and fire and tens of people are missing or dead. You’d wrung your hands the entire walk to Steve’s at 2 am, just as big military vehicles are pulling in. You couldn’t sleep, not knowing what’s become of him, and you’re relieved when his big, dumb house is in view, intact. A warm light on in his bedroom window. His car in the driveway, his dad’s car not.

Steve’s terrified when he opens the door, but his features soften immediately. His shirt’s off. You notice the lacerations on his torso immediately, but Steve’s pulling you in and locking the door before you can ask.

“Did you walk here?” is the first thing he says. You shrug, and he sighs loudly before wrapping you up in his arms. He smells like earth. “I’m sorry I didn’t call.”

“Lines are down anyway,” you mumble into his shoulder, trying not to kiss the skin as much as you want to. “What happened?”

He sighs again. “Not an earthquake.”

“I know.”

“Guess you could tell I needed a nurse, huh?”

You don’t think it’s very funny, but you lead him to the bathroom, picking out the first aid kit you’d last restocked in July. “Think you’ll need to lay down,” you say, gently kicking the cabinet under the sink shut. “Bedroom.”

You work gently and diligently on his stomach. He’d sworn to you it was already disinfected by the same people who partially cleaned him up after Starcourt. You still apply alcohol, much to his dismay. But even when he’s wincing, he’s quiet. Steve’s not known to be quiet. Your anxiety nearly gets the best of you, almost screaming at him when you ask again, “What happened?”

He stares at you for a long time, brown eyes starting to wet. “Not tonight,” he says.

“Robin?”

“She’s alive, too. Almost -“ and he takes a deep breath, pauses when you dab some more isopropyl on his spent skin. “Eddie.” It’s all he says. You bite at your cheek. You didn’t know Eddie well, and you’ve still got a lot of questions - but it’s a confirmation that those you know who usually get into these kinds of messes are okay.

You’re not unaware of the pointed use of the word alive and not okay. He was okay after 1984, and okay again after 1985, but 1986 only brings the word alive.

You use gauze to wrap the cuts on his stomach before taking another once over of him. He’s still so beautiful, even caked with mud and dirt and some weird thick gross slime that he’d only moaned a little don’t ask about. “Your neck,” you whisper, brows furrowing.

He nods a bit. “Hurts.”

You disinfect it, too, gently dabbing him with a cotton pad. “Hurts to swallow? To talk?”

“Mhm.”

“That’s okay,” you soothe, “I’ll stop askin’ questions now.”

“Don’t,” he whispers, suddenly grabbing your wrist. “Keep talking. Please.”

You swallow and nod before continuing your work. “My house is fine. It looks most bad in downtown - I guess you already know that? The phone lines - I said that already. Guess what I did today?”

A hint of a smile. He shrugs a shoulder.

“I finally checked out the porn section at Family Video.”

His smile grows.

“Which I guess was really good timing. But Keith was there - something about how his employees didn’t show up? Do you know anything about that?”

“Nothing,” he mouths.

“I didn’t rent anything,” you continue, “I just wanted to look. And I guess - I guess I just wanted to see you, too.”

His big eyes get all soft again. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry.” You dab away the last remnants of blood from his neck and pull back to throw the cotton pad in the trash. “Shouldn’t apologize for saving the world.”

You’re prepping a band aid for a cut on his head when he whispers, “We didn’t this time.”

You look back at him in a little bit of shock. Yes, the things always come back. But he’s never come back and said “yeah, we really dropped the ball this time.” He’s always been relatively confident, giving it “an eighty to eighty-five percent chance” that this was the last time.

“Zero percent,” he says, like he’s reading your mind. “We didn’t.”

“Let’s worry about that tomorrow, okay? I saw those big government vehicles - they’ll help.”

He makes a face that tells you everything. They won’t. They don’t know how.

“I’m sorry,” you say, leaning back towards him and resting your hands on his chest.

You see his adam’s apple bob. “I’m sorry I couldn’t make it safe for you.”

Steve has never cried before in front of you. He’s gotten close, but just walked away, pinching his nose and coming back a few minutes later like nothing ever happened. But now, he’s crying. It’s soft, a few tears riding down his cheeks.

“Steve.” Your voice cracks. “None of this is your fault. None of it. You can’t save the world. I’m - I’m so happy you’re safe.” You press your tongue to the roof of your mouth, trying to fight off a sob. “I’m just glad you came home.”

He closes his eyes and bites his lip. You move away with your kit, placing it on his desk before moving back to him. You push his hair out of his face softly. “Get some sleep. Okay?”

Steve’s eyes shoot open and he looks scared again. Panicked. He shakes his head and grabs your hands, pulling you into him so far that you almost trip and fall on top of him. “Please don’t go. I need - I need someone. I need you.”

Your heart jumps up to your throat and you swallow thickly. He’s never asked you for this before. And he’s genuine - his eyes are wild and still wet and he looks so, so scared. Scared of losing you.

“Okay,” you whisper. “I’ll get some blankets and -“

“Here,” he says, tugging you in again. “I - look, I know. But it doesn’t have to mean anything. I just don’t wanna feel lonely tonight. I want to feel good for once. I - goddammit. I want you. Please.”

I want you. It rings in your head. I want you.

You move to the other side of the bed and slide under the covers, cuddling up close to him. Steve turns onto his side as best as he can - you’d chosen his good side to lay beside. You wrap him in your arms as he rests his head on your chest. His grip on you is tight and it has to hurt. His muscles have to be screaming at him to stop and rest. But he holds you like you might get taken, too, along with all the others.

And he cries. You feel the tears soaking through your shirt. He tries his best not to make any noise, but he still sniffles and clears his throat. You rake your hand through his hair and hold him as tight as you can, too.

“Steve,” you whisper. “I love you. I just - I had to say it.”

There’s a pause, a shaky breath, before he pushes himself up to kiss you. It’s small and otherwise insignificant, but warm and sweet and what you’ve wanted for years. You’re surprised when he pulls back, but you melt as he whispers, “I love you, too.”

He settles into your chest again, and you resume combing his hair, heart pounding. “I’m here. Okay? I’ll take care of you. Just rest. I love you.”

He sighs and relaxes. “I love you, too.”

[damthosefandoms]

Jumbled

(ao3 link)

Summary:

RIP Sodapop Curtis, you would’ve loved having an IEP/504 Plan.

(AKA, Soda struggles in school his whole life, and doesn’t understand why, because it’s the 1950s and 60s and getting a diagnosis for a learning disability isn’t exactly on the table. Neither is the scaffolding and support he really needs.)

Sodapop Curtis was the type of kid who sat at the kitchen table for hours on end crying over math homework until his dad got home from work and struggled to explain it to him. All that effort, and then he’d always inevitably lose it somewhere between the kitchen table that night and his teacher’s hand the next morning and all that effort would be for nothing.

Soda was five years old when he started kindergarten, at the tail-end of the summer of ‘56. He remembers his mom comforting him the night before, when he cried because he was going to miss Ponyboy who wasn’t old enough for school yet and because Darry was going into fourth grade and would be on the other side of the school all day, and Soda would never get to see him. He remembers pouting because Keith Mathews, his and his brothers’ collective best friend from down the street was going into first grade after promising Soda last year that he’d get in a lot of trouble so he could stay and do kindergarten with him (he lied).

And then Soda was just plain miserable, sitting there on the bus sandwiched between Keith and a boy a little younger than Sodapop named Johnny Cade (who lives two doors down from the Mathews’ house and Soda never sees because his parents are mean and keep him inside all day), because Darry decided he was “too cool” to sit with his horse-crazy kid brother in favor of the big kids whose mommies don’t make them wash their hair when it’s dirty and greasy and walk around with those little black switch-combs and pretend they’re the coolest kids on planet earth, ‘cause one day those combs will swap out for blades and they will be.

Probably because they are, but Sodapop doesn’t know that yet—right now he doesn’t really know or care about grease or what side of town he lives on. He is six years old and the only thing on Soda’s radar right now is that Mama promised they’d save up for him to go to horseback riding camp next summer, and that’s his biggest dream. He wants to be a rodeo legend or win the Kentucky Derby or something. He hasn’t quite decided yet. He figures he has time to parse out the specifics—he just wants to ride a horse.

They get to school, and after a particularly pushy reminder that Mama told him at the bus stop this morning to make sure Soda gets to his classroom alright, Darry points his little brother toward the Kindergarten wing. Soda takes Johnny Cade’s hand in his because he found out on the bus that Johnny is going to have the same teacher as him, and they push through the hallway of their elementary school to find Mrs. Moran’s Room Four.

Soda very quickly learns that not every kid goes into kindergarten equally. Johnny is the smallest and the youngest kid in their grade, and Soda’s the second-youngest and it only takes a few weeks for Soda to think to himself that maybe that’s why he can’t read yet. He’ll be six soon, and that’s how old Evie is. Most of the kids who live on his side of town started kindergarten when they were six, he realizes. She sits next to Soda and she’s a good reader, but she’s one of the oldest kids in their grade and so of course she’s smarter than him. Then again, Sherri Valance, who is also in his class, isn’t going to be six until next spring—kind of like Johnny, and according to the birthday chart on the wall—he asked Mrs. Moran to read it to him one day when he couldn’t sleep during nap time and she very begrudgingly agreed, so he memorized everyone’s birthdays and how old they’d be turning because why not, right?—but Sodapop finds out that she went to preschool.

He didn’t go to preschool. He doesn’t know anyone who did. He remembers Mama talking to Dad about preschool for Ponyboy this year, but Dad said something about “expensive” and Soda stopped listening ‘cause they always get sad or angry when that word comes up.

Sherri Valance can read and she’s got pretty red hair and a backpack that’s not even a hand-me-down, and she went to preschool. So did all her friends in Room Three. Soda doesn’t know anybody in Room Three but he knows that the kids his friends know in there didn’t go to preschool. Timmy Shepard was in Room Three last year with Keith. He didn’t go to preschool either; heck, neither did Keith. But they can both read now, and they went to first grade, so Sodapop figures he didn’t miss out on too much.

Until it’s the end of the year and he still can’t read. Well, you don’t need to read to go to horse camp. Soda doesn’t nap a single time that year, either. He spends his precious kindergarten naptime not-reading the book Mrs. Moran gives him to keep him busy and picking at his cot when she snaps at him to be quiet. Mrs. Moran decided the day she read his first name off the attendance sheet that she didn’t like him, and Sodapop Curtis did not like her either.

First grade is so much better and yet so, so much worse.

Soda has a very hard time on his first day, because he misses his mom, and his dad, and Ponyboy, who begged to go to school too this year but he’s still too little at only four years old and Mama’s doing her best to get him reading now. Darry is in fifth grade and seems even farther away, and Soda doesn't have recess with Keith and Tim’s grade this year, and Johnny’s in Room Seven making new friends. Evie’s in Room Eight, and Soda’s trapped alone in Room Nine. Sherri’s still in his class. On the third day of school, Soda decides her hair reminds him of cherries. She laughs, and it sticks.

The best and brightest part of first grade is his teachers. He was put in Mrs. Larkin’s room, and she’s amazing; but when he gets there on the first day, there are two teachers in the room. Miss Luft, it’s explained, is a student teacher, which means she’s learning about first grade just like they are. She’s learning how to teach and they’re learning how to learn.

Sodapop still doesn’t even know the alphabet. He doesn’t know his sounds and he can’t keep his letters straight. Mrs. Larkin has him sit with Miss Luft when he tries to write a small moment story. She draws lines in marker on his paper for him to write each word on. Every line she has to make longer than the last because he can barely fit two letters on it, and he’s pretty sure she can’t read what he wrote any more than he can.

But Miss Luft always calls him capable. She has to explain to Sodapop once a week what that word means. He does his best to remember, but he has a lot of things to remember and it gets lost in the jumble somewhere.

He hears Mrs. Larkin and Miss Luft talking, sometimes. They hide their words behind stacks of paper and turned heads but he can hear them anyway.

Reversals. Attention span. Off the wall.

“And he’s low,” he hears Mrs. Larkin say one morning. “Mrs. Bolan’s got one that low too, but at least hers is quiet.”

He has no clue what any of it means. It’s all teacher talk, he isn’t supposed to get it, and he knows they aren’t trying to hurt his feelings, but hearing it makes him feel bad anyway because they don’t talk about other kids like they do him. They don’t get those sad looks on their faces about other kids, either.

“Does your brain get jumbled sometimes, Soda?” Miss Luft asks him one day when he’s sitting at his desk, eyes red and puffy from crying because he wasn’t allowed to go to gym class unless he finished his spelling worksheet. But he can’t. He’s been sitting here for forty-five minutes, ever since they got back from recess, and he can’t. Do. It. He tries to write his letters how his teachers have shown him but they just won’t appear in the place he wanted them to, like his pencil won’t obey him when he writes. He tries to start at the top line and somehow his pencil puts itself at the bottom.

He tries to write the letters anyway, but they don’t look like he thinks they’re supposed to, and he doesn’t even know what that means because every time he looks at a b or d, or m or n or h, or—god forbid someone tells him to write the letter k. It just looks like a stick.

His numbers are just as bad. Someone’s always reminding him to put the one before the seven instead of the other way around, but he doesn’t remember writing seventy-one, he can’t even count that high!

“Jumbled?” He says in a shaky voice, still trying to calm down.

“Like mixed up. Like it’s hard to think ‘cause you got too much going on in there?” She taps his forehead and he half-heartedly giggles.

“Yeah, it gets real jumbled. All the time,” Soda says.

“I feel like that sometimes too,” Miss Luft says, and she sighs. “Like I can’t think at all some days. Like my brain shuts off without me tellin’ it to because there’s too much goin’ on and I can’t focus, and just answering one question gets overwhelming. It’s too much. But it’ll be okay, Soda, I know you got it in you. I believe in you, you hear? If I could do it, so can you.”

She doesn’t say much else, but Sodapop has never felt more seen. He cries and clings to her on her last day at their school, hating that she only got to stay for ten weeks. Mrs. Larkin is amazing and he loves being in her class, but the year just drags on and on, and towards the end of the year Soda can’t decide if school is getting harder or he’s getting dumber. Maybe it’s both.

He gets to go to horseback riding camp that summer, and he meets a kid named Dallas who he thinks was in Room Seven with Johnny. Dallas is mean. Soda finds out he’s a whole year older than him, which confuses him because Dallas is in his same grade at school.

“An’ how come I never seen you at recess or nothin’?” Soda says one day at lunch. He’s got a bologna sandwich, because his mom swears by cold cuts. Dally stole an apple out of their counselor’s lunch and doesn’t seem to have anything to eat otherwise.

“They don’t let me out much,” Dallas says. “S’what happens when you spend all your time in the principal’s office.”

“Why?”

“I dunno. Just feels good to get in trouble sometimes.”

Soda doesn’t get him, but he likes horses, and so they become friends anyway. He and Dally start getting into trouble together, and Soda kind of starts to feel like he belongs somewhere. It takes his mind off the upcoming school year, which is great, because whenever he thinks about school, he gets butterflies in his stomach.

Dallas is in Room Twelve with Johnny when they get to second grade. Usually Soda keeps track of what classes all his friends end up in, but this year, it doesn’t matter anymore. Because second grade changes everything.

Mrs. Foster is ancient. She taught Soda’s mom once upon a time, and she had Darry in her class a few years earlier. Soda thought she’d be a great teacher because Darry loved her, but Soda can’t bring himself to even pretend to like her. She asks him what his parents were on when they named him.

“On what?”

Mrs. Foster just rolls her eyes and tells him to take a seat in the back where he clearly belongs. She lets him know that she’ll be calling him by his middle name this year. At least “Patrick” is “dignified.” Whatever that means.

Later, Soda can’t keep his words from erupting out of his mouth like a volcano during morning meeting, and she sends him back to his seat with a glare.

Five minutes later Steve Randle gets sent back to his seat for shouting out, too. He sits next to Soda in the back. He’s hiding a little red toy car in his desk and they play together. Mrs. Foster doesn’t seem to notice or care. She doesn’t call on Soda a single time that year, even when he does know the answer.

She also doesn’t like that Sodapop writes with his left hand. By the time he gets to third grade, he flinches and corrects himself every time he goes to pick up his pencil. He hopes this’ll solve the problem, but it never does.

Soda struggles the whole year. Steve doesn’t, and when Soda asks when his birthday is—he always needs to know, he needs to be able to sing happy birthday to all of his friends—Steve tells him he was born in April, the same year as Soda. Soda tells him how he can’t find a single pattern proving why he’s dumb, ‘cause age doesn’t seem to matter. Sherri aka Cherry is younger than him but smarter. She went to preschool. Johnny’s younger too, but he didn’t. Steve’s older and smarter but he tells Soda that he didn’t do preschool either.

“I did kindergarten twice, though,” Steve tells him. “Well, the first couple weeks anyway. Mom and Dad wanted me to start school when I was five but then I had to not do the whole year ‘cause my mom got sick and we were too busy and then she died so I stayed home with Dad. I did kindergarten the next year when I was six. Now I got friends in third grade and in second grade.”

They agree that Soda’s going to be Steve’s best second-grade friend. They trade that little red car back and forth and Soda still can’t read very well but he’s better at it now—Mrs. Larkin worked extra hard with him after Miss Luft left to make sure he knew his letters and sounds.

Mrs. Foster doesn’t seem to care, because she pretends he doesn’t exist. It’s a miracle Sodapop gets to third grade.

But it doesn’t matter. School doesn’t matter. Over time Soda just starts to remind himself that he has Steve, and Steve is smart, he’ll help him. Soda will get through this. Sure, after third grade Johnny gets held back, and it’s only a matter of time until Sodapop has to repeat a grade too, but… but he’ll be okay. He will. Someday a switch will go off and his brain will work right and he’ll be able to do it. He hasn’t failed yet, that has to mean something, right?

He hasn’t failed yet but no one has noticed he struggles, not his teachers, not his friends, no one. Maybe Miss Luft, but he’ll never see her again. He hopes she still thinks he’s capable. He had written in the book their class made for her that his favorite thing about her was that she believed in him.

As he gets older, he wonders if she even remembers his name.

But then again, he spends every weeknight crying at the kitchen table, physically unable to get past the first question on his homework sheets. In fourth grade Mama starts clearing everything off the table to help him focus, but he picks at the crumbs left behind from last night’s dinner, peels up the dried finger-paint Pony splattered everywhere, sits and rocks back and forth with each tick of the clock.

And every day after about an hour of making up little songs and fiddling on his paper until it’s spotted with holes, he starts crying, because he can’t bring himself to do his homework. And then Pony’s in school, finishing his homework before him, and Pony is just as much of a daydreamer, so that kind of stings. Darry has seven different classes to do homework for, on top of football practice, but he gets all his work done before Soda’s even started. His mom tries to help but it makes him cry even harder, ‘cause she doesn’t get it, it’s not about the homework it’s about his brain. It’s about Soda’s brain not working like everyone thinks it should.

It’s about his big, dumb, broken brain.

Johnny can’t read either, but he can focus, he can control his emotions and not cry or scream or stomp his feet at every little sound or touch, or overreact to things that aren’t a big deal at all, he doesn’t start throwing throngs off his desk when he’s mad, and he always has a reason why he does things. Steve can’t control his mouth or pay attention, but he can read and always turns in his homework on time. Keith never does his homework ever but he’s practically a genius compared to Sodapop.

Ponyboy brings home his first-ever spelling test and their mom sticks it on the fridge with a magnet.

That bright-red 100% is going to haunt Soda’s dreams.

Every night Dad gets home at 6:00 to find Soda still sitting at the table, eyes red and puffy, and tears staining his homework and the table. He chides him for the new mark Soda’s left in the table’s surface from digging the eraser-end of his pencil into it. Soda deflates, he didn’t mean to do that, it’s just—what else is he supposed to do? He’s not allowed to get up until his homework’s done.

Darrel Curtis Sr. is a loving father and a very easy-going guy, until he’s standing there over Soda’s shoulder holding his hand—his left hand, which Soda’s grateful for but also it feels so wrong after his experience in third grade—forcing him to write in the answers because he just doesn’t get that writing it is only part of the problem. His dad loves him, he’s gentle with his touch but every inch of Soda’s skin feels like it’s on fire when his dad makes him write.

It’s not his dad’s fault, but Darrel Sr. is only human, and he hates yelling at his kids, but he has to raise his voice to try to get Sodapop to hear him above his scream-crying because it’s the only way to help him learn.

Sometime when Soda’s in seventh grade, Ponyboy asks him what his problem is. Homework’s not that bad.

“I don’t like it anymore than you do, Soda, but I just don’t think it’s worth crying over, you dig?”

Soda throws his pencil at his brother, slams his history book shut, and walks out the back door. Ponyboy watches in confusion. When their mom comes in to check on them, he tells her Sodapop’s overreacting again.

Dally, who had moved away after third grade to New York but came back just in time to start seventh grade with Soda, finds him at the Pershing Park playground sitting on the swings. It’s where Soda ends up when he’s hopelessly overwhelmed by homework, or when the thought of school looms over him like a cartoon anvil. Something about pumping his legs and willing the swing to take him higher and higher takes away the sick feeling that the idea of popcorn reading Shakespeare in his fifth period English class gives him. Dally asks him if he wants to find something better to do, and a few hours later they wind up back at the Curtis house with busted knuckles and the beginnings of black eyes and they pour grease into Soda’s hair and grin at each other.

When Sodapop is sixteen years old, a sophomore in high school, his father finds him sitting at that same kitchen table, staring down over an assignment that’s asking him to write a thousand-word essay and Soda turns to his dad wordlessly, his throat is closing up, and his dad tells him to breathe.

But he can’t. He can’t. He’s going to be sick, he might actually throw up. He feels like he’s being stabbed in the chest. One thousand words. Sodapop can’t even count that high. He can’t even read Dr. Seuss. He can’t do this anymore.

“Dad, I want to drop out.”

“Aw, Pepsi-Cola,” his dad says gently that night, brushing Soda’s hair back and then pulling him into a hug, “I know you do. I’ve been talkin’ to your mother about it. We got the paperwork from the school. But I think you should think about it a little longer, alright?”

Soda agrees to try and finish out the year. His dad gets it.

His dad spent ten years listening to Soda cry over homework. His dad never called him dumb. His mom did what she could. But the only person in all his years of school who Soda ever knew really believed in him was Miss Luft, and she never came back.

He thinks maybe if he had more teachers like her, who believed in him and gave him extra help and supported him along the way, if there was something—something that made it so they had to listen to him, had to help him, had to accept that it wasn’t his fault he couldn’t read right, couldn’t focus, couldn’t control his mood swings or emotions or his volcano of a mouth… maybe he could’ve done better. Maybe if Mrs. Foster had let him write with his left hand, he could’ve figured it out.

Soda hopes one day they figure out what makes kids like him tick. What makes them struggle. He hopes one day that their schools will decide to help.

A few months after he talks to his dad, Sodapop finds the signed paperwork in his dad’s desk drawer. His parents have just been buried, and Soda can’t stop crying at the drop of a pin. He’s been skipping all his classes, but none of his teachers seem to care. It’s fine. He’s dumb anyway, a lost cause. They’ll just keep passing him up to the next grade without batting an eye at the fact that he never gets higher than a D+, no matter how hard he tries.

Sodapop will always be that one student who slips through the cracks.

He looks over the form to drop out. He figures the school will take it, if he pitches it to them as a last-will kind of situation. He doesn’t even need to ask Darry to give the okay, because Dad signed it months ago, like he had already known the decision Sodapop would make.

And he did. It’s dated that same night Soda sat at the kitchen table feeling like the world was ending and like he was dying because of a goddamn required word count.

But he knows Miss Luft believes in him, and he knows what his dad wanted, so he finishes out the school year—passes Gym and Auto Shop, too.

Soda hopes he made them proud. And now, he’ll never have to worry about explaining the dried tears on his spelling homework ever again.

[iloveboysinred]

HIIIIII it's me againe 🏃‍♀️, how are you?? I hope you are doing well and that you are having a good day !!!

I was wondering would it be possible to write a very very very very very sad angst voltron x fem reader (would it be possible to make it a keith x reader, I'm so sorry very time it's him, you can make it for a different character I'd you like 💓💓).

Thank you everytime for making such amazing stories, I literally LOVE READING THEM ALL

MWAH MWAH MWA 💋💋💋

Hiiii always good to receive an ask from you! and thank you for requesting. I love writing these for you and anybody that reads them! MWAAAAAH <33333

Remember me like this [ Keith Kogane]

Keith Kogane x fem reader

synopsis; You had always been there for Keith, as a friend and a shoulder to cry on. What Keith didn't know, was that you had always wanted to be more. When Keith disappears, you're forced to move on. Only for your heart to break all over again when he returns, a war hero and seemingly forgetting all about you.

cw; angst, one sided love, pining, heartbreak ;( Keith being a dick for forgetting about you (so ooc Keith cause we all know he would never) character death!! Lots of curse words, no happy ending, no comfort

For @iamasimpfor2dcharachers 💗

masterlist

When you had heard about the 3 garrison cadets who had broken in to rescue Shiro, a senior pilot who had been sent on the Kerberos mission, you'd immediately guessed Keith was involved. Having been the closest thing to a friend when he had still been enrolled in the Galaxy garrison, you knew the nature of his relationship with Shiro.

He'd confided in you many times about his home life. He's told you about how he's never known his mother, about the death of his father, and how Shiro had taken him in when he was just a pre-teen, guiding him and raising him as his own. You and Keith had slowly grown close, you understood his frustrations, and his seemingly endless anger at the world. You had gotten to know him better, you'd seen the real fragile, broken boy underneath his hot-head "loner" facade. Many times you were by his side, comforting him through the night, holding him close as he wept. Naturally, you had began to develop feelings for the boy, working hard to attempt at healing his bleeding heart. You'd never utter a word of your feelings to him though, knowing that he didn't feel the same way. "He has so much going on already... he shouldn't have to worry about my feelings too", you'd tell yourself, trying to sooth the aching in your heart every time you find yourself leaning towards him, your lips craving the feel of his own.

Keith was a complex person, it was hard to read how he was feeling if he didn't want to let you in. You'd learned that early enough when you met him on the first day of piloting school. "Hey, my name's y/n. I see you're training to be a fighter pilot, me too! I've heard about how great you are from Griffin" you chirped, reaching a hand out to shake his, "I wouldn't take him seriously, he complains so much about you it sounds like he's jealous. I would take that as a compliment. What's your name?" Keith eyed your outstretched hand skeptically, turning his gaze away from you with a scoff. "Keith." he muttered nonchalantly, crossing his arms over his chest. You smiled, grabbing his gloved hand out of his intertwined arms, shaking it fervently. "Nice to meet you, Keith. I hope we'll become friends. Welcome to the team!" Keith stared at you with slightly widened eyes before snatching his hand back and walking away without another word. "Tough cookie to crack.." you thought to yourself amusedly.

From that day on you'd made a point to talk to Keith every day. You complimented his piloting, asked about his day, his favorite things to do in his free time. He never spoke much in the first few weeks of you knowing him, giving you one word answers or grunts in response to your pestering attempt to gain his friendship. "What do you want now, y/n" Keith grumbled as you sat next to him at lunch. He had just come back from suspension after getting in a fist fight with your classmate, James Griffin. It was obvious he wasn't in the best of moods. But he never really was, so it didn't phase you. "I just wanted to tell you that James totally deserved that punch." Keith shot you a surprised look, watching as you nonchalantly unpacked your lunchbox. "He's such a douche. I'm surprised nobody's rocked his shit earlier. I'm sorry for what he said about you." you mumbled over a bite of your sandwich, offering him the other half, seeing as he lacked a lunch box of his own. He shyly took it, taking a small bite out of the corner. You smiled to yourself, eating in silence beside each other.

From that day forward, you got more than a few words out of Keith. You began to visit him at home, bringing with you homemade lunches and board games. You'd truly began to blossom a friendship, telling each other everything, sharing lunches, always in each other's company. It was rare to see Keith without you by his side. He had brought you over to meet Shiro, explaining that he was his only parent figure in his life after his father's passing and his mother's early disappearance in his life. You'd began to bond over your trauma, confiding in him about your strict, loveless household, and him to you about his loneliness and his subconscious need for a family he could belong to.

You still remember your shock when he had dropped out of the Garrison, not too long after Shiro's disappearance. You spent months defending his name, ripping a new one to whoever spoke ill of your best friend. You still visited him often, now his home being the only place you really saw him. You'd bring him food and other necessities, knowing he wasn't taking care of himself besides taking showers and sleeping.

Everyday since the break in, you'd come looking for him at his desert home, and everyday you'd find it empty. Nobody knew where the cadets had gone, searching the premises and the miles surrounding in an attempt to find the fugitives. Eventually, the searching stopped and with it, your daily visits to his abandoned home. You've accepted that Keith was lost, but your aching heart never truly stopped longing for his return. You knew he was out there, somewhere you couldn't see.

After a year, you'd graduated from piloting school, now an official fighter pilot for the galaxy garrison. You'd stood rigid as they handed you your uniform after the ceremony. It felt like something was missing, and you knew that something was Keith. Your accomplishment felt bittersweet. Sure, you had graduated at the top of your class, but that was surely only because Keith had dropped out. Everyone knew Keith was the best pilot on your team, and it didn't sit well with you how you had filled in his place. You brushed the thoughts off, you needed to move on. Keith was gone and you needed to resume your life, just as you had before you met him.

So, you'd continued your life as a garrison pilot. Training new cadets, and doing daily drills in garrison space vessels. Your life was fulfilling you suppose, but you never felt more alone. You'd skipped lunches with the other pilots, opting to eat by yourself in your room, you barley even spoke to anybody, only responding when spoken to or when given an order. As hard as you tried to enjoy life, nothing was the same anymore.

Obviously, the universe had a weird way of working things. When the Galra attacked earth, defeated by the infamous paladins of Voltron, your heart skipped a beat when you'd seen him in the cafeteria. His hair had gotten longer, he looked older, which didn't surprise you, it had been years since you'd last seen him. He had a jarring scar going from his cheek and coming to a sharp point right by his eye, and you wondered briefly what trouble he had gotten in.

You felt all the old emotions rushing back to you, but you also felt angry at him. He had left without so much as a goodbye, and here he was, being praised and awarded without sparing you so much as a single glance. He didn't know the pain he had caused you, and he certainly didn't seem to care. You marched right up to him, eyes glistening with tears you refused to let fall. "So that's what you've been doing these last few years, you ASSHOLE!" you hissed, showing your face up to his, standing nose to nose with the taller man. Keith looked at you, bewildered and seemingly not knowing who the fuck you were. You stared into his eyes, confusion clouding his, anger pain and..love swimming in yours. "What are you talking about...do I even know you!?" he snapped back, getting over his initial shock and shoving you backwards. Keith didn’t recognize the grown ass woman yelling at him, but something felt familiar about you, the way you cussed him out, the furious glint in your eye. He knew he had seen you before, but where? He stared at you hard, trying to get his brain to connect the dots. "Oh so you don't remember me now? it's been fucking years since you left and now you don't know who I am? you're a real class act, Keith. I can't fucking believe you right now..." your words had begun to get shaky, the tears becoming almost too much to hold back. "I guess you were too busy parading around space in a fucking robot lion to even have a second thought about me!" by now a crowd was forming, but you didn't care. You were gonna get this off your chest, no matter how people looked at you afterwards.

"What, you got amnesia now? you left me here, you dick! you didn't even say goodbye, did our friendship mean nothing to you-" "What the fuck are you even talking about right now?!" you can tell he was agitated both from your confrontation and the unwanted attention from bystanders. "What am I talking about? I'm talking about how I used to be the only one there for you! you were my only friend and you left Keith. You left without a care and now you don't even know who I am." you let your tears free fall, your pain deepening at the utter look of cluelessness on his face. "y/n, that's enough. back off." you whipped around to see Iverson, who had broken up the crowd and now fixed you with a stern look. You sniffled and shot Keith one last furious look. Brushing past Iverson when you whipped around and stormed off.

“Y/n…?” Keith whispered, his eyes wide in disbelief. How could he be so stupid? Of course it was you! He felt his breath leave his lungs as he watched your retreating form. He flinched when Lance slapped his hand over his shoulder, pulling him into his side and grinning ear to ear. “Wow Keith, i didnt know you had the ladies down for you like that! I must’ve really rubbed off on you, huh? “ “Oh fuck off, Lance!” Keith snapped, shoving him off, speed walking in direction you had gone. But you were nowhere to be found, and Keith felt guilt settle in his stomach.

From that day Keith only saw you in passing. It was like you never even knew he was there. Every time you scoffed at him when he tried to talk to you he felt his chest tighten. He tried every way he knew how to try and get you to talk to him again, expressing his remorse by leaving you homemade lunches at your door in the mornings, to trying to pair up with you during flight drills. But you ignored him every time. It was messing with him, but he knew he deserved it. He deserved every cold glance, every shoulder bump you'd purposely given him when you walked past. But that fact hurt him even more.

But then, he found you in the cafeteria, sitting by yourself and picking at your lunch. He let out a breath to ready himself, walking over to you. You gave him a quick glance before looking back down at your lunch box, debating if you should leave. “Y/n I-“ “what do you want Keith? Why can’t you just leave me the fuck alone?” You snapped, slamming your fork down on the metal table. Keith’s lips pursed in a line, feeling his frustration, hot and bubbling over. “I wanted to say i’m sorry, I-I didn’t recognize you… you looked different!” He tried to explain, but you didn’t care. It sounded like a whole bunch of excuses to you. “Okay, you didn’t recognize me.” You gritted out, refusing to look at him, staring down at your clenched fists on the table. “You didnt recognize me, because you left, Keith! You left and didnt even think to say goodbye. I had to finish flight school without you. I had to deal with all the bullshit you left behind, without YOU. Now you show up after disappearing and everyone throws you a fucking parade. What about me, huh? You were so caught up in your own shit you forgot all about me. I was there for you, I LOVED YOU!” You yelled, whipping around to face him. “I loved you ever since we were 16.. and you didn’t have a clue cause all you cared about was your problems and yourself! So yeah, i dont want to hear apologies, i actually never want to see your stupid fucking face, ever. again.” You seethed, grabbing your lunch and storming off, leaving Keith broken and speechless.

Then, it happened. During a flight drill your space vessel had malfunctioned, crashing into the ground from your high position in the sky. Alarms bleared throughout the base, officers and pilots rushing out to see the catastrophe. Keith shoved people aside, barging to the front of the crowd. He had rushed to the scene after conversing with Admiral Sanda, when a trainee had come in to relay the news. He fell to his knees when his eyes fell on your broken body, being hauled out of the space vessel, now destroyed and smoking behind you. Keith's body felt frozen to the ground as the medics hauled you through the crowd. Everything was moving in slow motion, the crowd dispersing and conversing amongst themselves in shock. His heart felt like it was beating once per minute. He looked around but he couldn’t see, the smoke causing his vision to blur and his lungs to burn. He had to get up, he had to look for you.

Tears welled in his eyes when he had found you in the med bay, your breaths faint and getting weaker by second. If he couldn’t recognize you then, he definitely couldn’t now. There you lay, in a hospital gown with bandages covering the entirety of your body. Your face bruised and bloody. He sat down beside you, holding your stiff hand in his. Your skin felt cold, the life inside you rapidly fading. He had known your condition before he came, the nurses telling him that you were a lost cause, that they did everything they could to help you pass comfortably. But grief still brewed in his heart, it's iron grip making it hard to breathe as he stared at your closed eyelids. "I'm so sorry, y/n" he whispered, bringing your cold hand to his lips. "I should've brought you with me, I never forgot you, i never stopped loving you. Don’t go, please, Not like this." his whimpers escalated, sobs racking his body as leaned over to hug you, at least remaining careful enough to not move you too much. "You're my best friend... I never even got the chance to tell you..I-i love you. Forgive me. Please." but his pleading fell on deaf ears. The only sound in the room being the continuous beep of a flatlined heart monitor, and his sobs. A part of him died with you that night, and he knew that he would never forgive himself.

hope you enjoyed, this made me a little sad ;( sorry if it was mid, I'm not used to writing angst. notes and reblogs are appreciated, comments, asks, submissions are welcomed!

[catsushinyakajima]

hey hey I finished reading your "the adults are talking" and you WRECKED ME, like I genuinely don't think you could understand how absolutely ripped apart and splayed open I was. I was crying thick sob tears and putting the fic down, just to pick it back up and immediately start crying again. happened like 4 times.

you wrote it so, so wonderfully, and truly captured insecure Lance in a way that broke me. the characterization in each paladin member was distinctive and fit in the scenario, from their emotional reactions, to their outward displays, to the unique patterns of their speech (and even writing, for Keith n Lance). I loved how you wrote Keith and Lance, but I also absolutely loved the scene where Shiro talks to Lance, cause FUCK, it fucking hurt but was SO in character for him. devastating blow.

also the idea is so perfect? especially for langst?? and executed even more perfectly????? the pacing carried the emotion through it, never too rushed or slow, it was just... perfect.

anyways I'm currently reading through the other KL fics you've got and immensely enjoying the experience, but I needed to tell you how much this fic got to me. you wonderful wonderful writer 🙏

quick link to fic before my response: https://archiveofourown.org/works/59321800

HI HI OKAY SO-

*hands you a tissue for your tears* sorry?? I suppose?? But also your welcome?? I suppose??

It means so much to me that you like my work. Like so much. I'm like squirming with excitement, which is not good because it's causing my laptop to connect/disconnect from charging repeatedly (my charger is weird idk and my laptop's on my lap).

I can never tell how my writing is perceived to others because I'm so used to my words so every time I read it I'm like "okay....ig??" So this is great confirmation that my writing does NOT SUCK THANK YOU!! Thank you very much. It means a lot to my writer heart.

I think speaking is such a valuable and preferred method of communication to Lance. More than having a lot on his mind to say, I think it is a way for him to genuinely connect with people and he puts a lot of weight into his words and the words of people around him (especially if those words are directed at him). I'd like to think that its importance to him is a double edged blade. There are positives such as treasurable interactions, being able to express himself, having a thriving social life, etc. But there are also negatives like over-picking people's words or lack thereof, worrying about saying the wrong thing or too much/too little, putting so much value into his words that it starts to feel meaningless, etc. I wanted to play with the balance between these factors and that's how I came up with this fic!

I'm glad that the way I portrayed his thoughts and feelings resonated with you. I struggle with similar anxieties and it was very natural for me to write Lance's perspective in this fic, so I understand why it would feel personal. I hope that you are never in a situation where uh...you get zapped and your voice box gets paralyzed so you can't speak and are in imminent pain?? But in all seriousness, there is importance to yourself and your words no matter what you or others lead you to believe. Similar to the way I didn't realize the extent of the impact my fic had on people, you might not realize the impact you have on other people. Exhibit A: Your message to me was genuinely so kind and every single sentence you took the time to write means so much to me. I'm definitely coming back to this ask whenever I'm feeling down.

On another note, I feel so bad for making you cry that I'm thinking of writing a Lance Fluff fic to make up for it. What would that be called? If there's Langst, then would that be L' Fluff? Lafluff? L' Hurt/Comfort? If you have any requests or ideas let me know because I'm writing it with you in mind- no pressure, though.

Anyways see you around! I hope you have a good day and week and month and forever and read more good KL fics! Once again, thanks so much for reading!

[storiesofaot]

Hello, hello. I hope your day has been treating you well. I come bearing questions from this post. Do you have any details or further ideas regarding Hange's crush on Keith Shadis? How they behaved around him, what the nature of the infatuation was, maybe more on why, etc.

Heey there! 😇 Yes, thank you so much - I had a good day with some tea and gingerbread hehe! Hope your day is going or has been good, too! ✨️

Ooh yes, Keith Shadis, our dear sunken-eyed, bald-headed friend 🤭 I actually did some thinking and rewatching this afternoon, and now I do have some more thoughts about the whole Hange&Shadis thing! (Still feeling gloriously inadequate to actually try doing an analysis on them, but it truly was a lot of fun! 😁)

I have my own personal timeline for Hange in my mind, so I created a comparison with Shadis's time with the Scouts. I don't know if it'll matter that much for the following ramble, but I'll share it anyway :)

In that flashback scene from 3x11 (Chapter 48), we get to hear Shadis himself talking about the time he met Grisha, and sharing some of his beliefs with us. He always had the drive to know what was outside the walls; he felt trapped inside and wasn't too happy about everyone living in "comfort", simply accepting the situation without actually wanting to change anything about it. I think Hange was also always curious about the world beyond the walls. Her focus was on the Titans, yes, but she was equally fascinated by the ocean and all the new discoveries they made in Marley = the world outside of the walls. In that sense, I believe she felt a connection with Shadis, as those were likely the values he advocated for during his time as Commander, and they clearly resonated with her.

But Shadis believed that in order to accomplish something, one had to be special. He wanted to be special, and over time, he was even convinced himself that he was special, and even better than the others? I think, though, that the whole feeling special thing might’ve sparked that little crush Hange had on Shadis. This is just my personal opinion - it’s not really based on anything - but I can imagine that when Hange joined the Military, she was already exceptionally smart but maybe lacked a bit of skill when it came to actual combat?

He might have been the one who saw beyond that "lack" - he recognised her curiosity about the world and her genuine desire to understand things. (We know he’s very good at reading people; we saw it when Eren & Co. were training). So he made Hange feel special in a sense, because, as mentioned above, he believed that only special people could accomplish (great) things. He recognised her potential and might've been the one who allowed her to join the Scouts, maybe even pushed her to get a better fighter, encouraging her so that she could unfold her full potential (a little like he did with Eren, he could've made sure he didn't enter but in the end, he yielded; and we know Hange can be very persistent, too!)

This might be a slightly silly thing to admit, but it's all for the sake of this analysis sooo xD I remember back when I was in secondary school - I must’ve been around 16 - there was one moment where someone made me feel "special" in a way that hadn't happened before. It was just a little, minor, innocent thing, not even worth mentioning (he pretty much just opened the door for me 😂) but it was such a nice gesture. Because it was the first time something like that happened, I guess it especially stood out to me, and I will (always?) associate it with that person.

Bringing this back to KisuHan (lol xD), Shadis might have been the first one to truly see her abilities, to acknowledge her amazing mind and not dismiss her due to the way she appeared or acted? That's where her infatuation with him started; she felt seen and valued, he made her feel special, so her 15/16/17 year old brain crushed hard on him 😁 (and he still had his hair, sooooo xD) I don't know if she actually wanted to feel special, but since it kind of happened, in a sense it made him feel special to her, too?

(Maybe that was also the reason why she seemed truly mad or hurt when he told them the story about Eren and Grisha, a story he had withheld from all of them for so many years. She might have always thought highly of him, and the first little damper was him stepping back from his role as Commander, and the fact that he kept all that information hidden was another big damper?)

Now if you've made it this far - thank you!! (this turned out much longer than I thought it would be lol) I know, I could've just said "Shadis made feel Hange special." but where's the fun in that? 😂 Of course, this is just my personal opinion or explanation, but I'm curious to hear your thoughts on their "relationship", too!

As a farewell, here’s a little photo of our buddy Keith. This was so much fun, thank you sooo much for asking, I really loved thinking about this! 🙌🏼

[autisticlancemcclain]

“Hey, Lance.” A taunting laugh, smirk audible in his voice. “I got your lion back.”

He’s so smug he’s dripping with it, truly. If satisfaction was a person he would be the one and only Keith Gyeong, prodigy pilot extraordinaire.

He did, however, go out of his way to get Lance’s lion back for him. So.

“Thank you, Keith,” Lance says, injecting as much sincerity into his voice as he can muster. He’s well aware he’s still at a disadvantage here, and he knows Keith is his best shot for help (he would literally rather die than ask Shiro, Pidge would take twelve thousand photos and hoard them over his head for eternity, Hunk has a told-you-so problem, and he doesn’t know the Alteans well enough to take that particular L in front of them). “Now can you come and unchain me?”

Lance is expecting teasing. Duh. That’s the point of this whole rivalry spiel. He is not, however, expecting to be abandoned.

“What’s that? Uh, you’re cutting out, I can’t — I can’t hear you —”

Oh, Lance is going to kill him.

“Come on! I thought we bonded!”

Nothing. Not even static over the comms, which tells Lance that Keith has yet to fucking cut the connection, and is, in fact, being a horrible smug jerk.

A horrible smug jerk that is Lance’s only saving grace, unfortunately.

Man, fuck. Why is Lance expected to be friends with this jerk again?

“Keith?”

Still nothing.

“Buddy?”

Fuck, not even a muffled snigger.

“…My man?”

Is it desperate? Yes. Was the bonding dig also desperate? Yep. Is Lance digging himself into a deeper hole by the minute? Quite probably.

He does that regularly, though. He’ll get out eventually.

Hopefully.

Lance continues to nag a silent Keith through the comms, and then switches to cussing him out, in as many languages as he can (which is a lot. He doubts Keith has ever been called a fart-snorting garbage-guzzler in Gaelic, heh. Ass). He’s hoping to incense Keith enough to get him to fire back and prove that he’s been listening all along, but not too much that he turns around and refuses to help. It’s a delicate balance. Lance is usually very good at it. (Nothing on Earth is funnier than making your older siblings absolutely raging mad and then watching them continue to help you with whatever you ask for. It is, truly, an art form.)

But since Lance was forsaken by the gods the very second he was shot into space, Keith remains absolutely soundless.

And honestly? How dare he.

Muttering to himself, Lance tries to shift into a slightly more comfortable position. Eventually he manages to get his knees under him, chest to the floor, and curves his back to take the pressure off his wrists, which isn’t amazing but is better than before. It’s certainly not easy to do — this handcuff shit is hard. Lance always thought it would be way more fun.

“Well, damn, Sanchez. You sure you even want me to help you? You’re lookin’ pretty comfortable all stretched out.”

Lance yelps loudly, startling at Keith’s drawl. When the hell did he get here? Why didn’t Lance see him arrive in Red?

“Did you seriously use Pidge’s cloaking just to sneak up on me?” he demands.

Keith steps into Lance’s field of vision, smirking up a goddamn storm. He crouches right beside the pole Lance is chained to, reaching out a hand (dodging Lance’s attempt to bite his fingers off) and tilting up his chin.

“‘Course,” he admits, easy as pie. Then his smirk gets wider. “Think I was gonna pass up a chance to see ya all tied up and testy, pretty boy?”

Pretty boy.

Oh, no. Oh no, no, no.

“Fuck,” Lance says, aghast. “Fuck, fuck!”

The sudden expletives startles Keith, a little, and the smug expression drops from his face.

“What? What’s wrong?”

Lance face contorts in panic. “You’re hot! You’re not supposed to be hot! Fuck!”

This is Lance’s own goddamn fault, really, but he would like to take a brief moment to blame both higher powers and the internet at large for making him this way.

The thing is that Lance likes to bug people. He likes to push people’s buttons and run off before they can push his back. Usually, anyway, people don’t want to push his back; they just want to throw shit at him or roll their eyes and walk away.

But Keith?

Of course not. Heaven forbid Keith act like every other human being on the planet — er, well, alien in the universe. No, Keith has absolutely no trouble snapping right back to whatever Lance throws at him. Keith actually plays his game.

And fuck, does Lance love it.

That’s a huge problem. Massive. Lance doesn’t know what to do with someone who indulges him! That’s not the point! The point is for people to get annoyed and for Lance to win by default! He’s not supposed to be the one getting flustered!

“…What,” Keith says flatly. He blinks rapidly at Lance, confusion written all over his face.

There’s a splash of red spreading across his nose.

“Oh, fuck you!” Lance explodes — or, well, as much as he can while he’s still chained to a fucking pole. “Of course you have to be a fuckin’ — smug jackass! And of course you look good doing it! And of fucking course you’re a goddamn country boy!”

And the hole Lance has dug himself gets deeper.

Lance astounds himself, really. He should arrange to have his mouth glued shut.

“This is the worst! It’s one thing if you’re just some guy, but nooooo! Of course you have fucking — crooked incisors and a Southern drawl! Oh, you are the worst, you know that, Gyeong?”

“This is going in a rapidly different direction than I pictured,” Keith manages.

“Oh, picture me tied up and at your mercy a lot, do you?” Lance snaps back.

It’s a reflex, really. Lance says shit like that all the time, because he’s his own target audience. It never does anything but make people roll their eyes at him, and occasionally land him in detention. Hell, he barely even registered that he said it.

But, fascinatingly, the tiny smudge of red over Keith’s nose explodes into a raging blush, from the roots of his hair down his neck.

“There’s no possible way you know that,” Keith says hotly.

Lance’s jaw drops. “No way that I — I didn’t! I wasn’t — bitch, I was joking!”

Keith scowls, flush getting deeper. “Well, what about the shit you said before? You said I’m hot!”

“Yeah, because you fucking are! I’m not — I don’t daydream about you, at least! I don’t have a — a fucking thing for you, though?”

As he says it, Lance knows he’s lying. All of a sudden every single one of Hunk’s raised eyebrows whenever Lance ranted about Keith start to make a lot of sense.

“Bullshit!” Keith argues. “You always stare at me during training, and you pick random fights with me all the time, and yet you sit next to me all the time for no reason! You’re fuckin’ obsessed with me!”

“I —” Lance stops, jaw clicking shut. It is occurring to him, just now, that straight, non-crush-having people don’t generally obsess over one-sided rivalries for five years, and then do everything they can to make that rivalry a reality.

So. An oversight, perhaps.

“There’s a possibility,” Lance concedes, “that my subconscious, without my permission, has perhaps harboured some strange type of feelings for you.”

“Told you,” Keith says faintly. He looks just as lost as Lance does, though, so it significantly lowers the effect.

Lance is gagged. He is, for once in his life, at a complete loss for what to say. What does this even — who comes up with this kind of shit? Who does this? Lance is his own worst enemy, truly. Sorry, Zarkon, but take a seat.

“Lance, dude?” Hunk’s voice, faint and tinny from Lance’s discarded helmet, makes them both jump. “Do you still need rescuing?”

“Fuck, sorry,” Keith mutters, finally springing into action and deactivating the stupid cuffs. Lance scrambles back the second he’s free, rubbing his wrists and avoiding eye contact with Keith while also constantly sneaking glances aren’t him that aren’t at all sneaky because Keith catches him every time.

“So,” Keith says eventually.

Nope. Lance isn’t having this stupid conversation.

Lance throws a random rock at him.

“Hey!” Keith picks it back up and whips it at Lance immediately, only his aim isn’t as good as Lance’s, and also Lance is already diving to grab more rocks, so he misses. Lance starts pelting Keith with the armful of space rocks he’s gathered, each of them no bigger than an ice cube, all of them pinging harmlessly off Keith’s armour.

“Lance — will you — fucking cut that out!”

He lunges forward, shoving Lance to the ground and pinning Lance’s hands above his head. Lance bucks and squirms, trying several of the new maneuvers Shiro taught them to throw Keith off, but unfortunately Keith had also been present at the training in which they learned these manoeuvres and is therefore unaffected.

“I’ll let you up if you stop throwing shit at me.”

“No.”

“Guess you’re stuck, then.”

Lance tries for several more minutes to escape, but Keith remains firmly where he is, pinning Lance down. Lance is eventually forced to stop unless a new problem wants to pop its way up and make things more embarrassing and horrible.

Lance huffs. “Let me up. I promise not to throw more rocks at you.”

Keith squints suspiciously at him. “Are you lying to me?”

“Yes.”

“Well then — no, obviously?”

“C’mon, Keith.”

Lance does what he always does when he’s backed into a corner — he pulls out the brown doe eyes. He furrows his eyebrows, widening his eyes as big as he can and pouting.

“For fuck’s — oh, fine.”

Keith rolls off Lance, grumbling the whole time.

Lance blinks.

That — that worked? All he had to do was ask, barely, bat his eyelashes a little, and Keith just — listened to him?

“Oh my God, we are down bad for each other,” Lance breathes.

Keith looks ready to argue, but then stops himself, sighing.

“Yeah.”

“What are we going to — fuck, what are we going to do?”

Because Lance is not new to crushes. He’s had more of them than he can physically count. But never in his life has he wanted to judo flip someone as badly as he wanted to make out with them. That’s a new development.

“I dunno,” Keith says helplessly. He’s kind of — curled in on himself, face still red, as if he curls into a tight enough ball he can escape the situation. “You’re the plan guy! When you’re not being a dumbass, that is.”

Ignoring the jab, Lance takes a moment to ponder that. He is kind of the plan guy, isn’t he? It’s him who came up with all the Garrison escape plans he dragged Hunk into. It’s him who came up with the elevator shaft idea. Hell, he can quite possibly trace every one of his major life moments to a point where he said ‘hey, I wonder how I can make this work for me.’

Plan guy. Plan guy. He can be the plan guy. That’s all anything is, right? Making decisions and working out how to get there. He’s good at that.

But what decision does he want with Keith? What does he want with Keith, period?

“Step one,” Lance decides, “is that we should make out.”

Keith looks at him in surprise. “That’s step one?”

Lance nods firmly. “Yep. If we make out now, we can figure out all the weird tension shit. Maybe we don’t actually like each other. Maybe we’re just, like, bored.”

Keith looks doubtful, but he makes his way closer anyway.

“I guess so.”

“Yep.”

“So I just — kiss you?”

“Well, we don’t have all day, Mullet.”

Truly, Lance’s heart is pounding. He has no fucking clue how he’s managing to sound even remotely normal. He feels like he might implode.

Hesitantly, Keith reaches for Lance’s face, resting a palm on his cheek. His hand is warm, even through the gloves of their suits. Hot, really; nearly burning. He rests it there for a moment, absentmindedly — or maybe intentionally — rubbing his thumb across Lance’s cheekbone as his eyes trace nervously over Lance’s lips. He leans in close slowly, like he’s got all the time in the world, eyes fluttering shut as his lips get closer and closer to Lance’s. He gets close enough that Lance can see the startling length of his eyelashes, the tiny mole at the corner of his mouth, the chapped skin of his lips.

Lance doesn’t even know how to categorize the sound that comes out of his mouth when their lips finally touch. It’s — breathy; stuttering. Like all the air escapes out of his lungs the second his skin touches Keith’s.

Keith tilts his head a little, sliding their noses together, his free hand coming to rest at Lance’s hip. Lance’s hands move without his permission, sliding up the chest plate of Keith’s armour and over his shoulders, resting finally in his hair, fingers tangling around the thick black strands. He pulls on them slightly, and Keith gets the hint, opening his mouth and pushing closer.

Lance’s heartbeat slows from its jackrabbit pace. He stops focusing on anything except the warmth of Keith’s skin on his, the rhythm of their mouths moving together, the occasional sighs Keith makes at the back of his throat. He forgets where he is, what he’s doing; hell, he forgets his own damn name. The only thing he cares about is pressing closer to Keith, keeping them melded together.

“Well. Obviously you didn’t need saving.”

Lance’s eyes fly open and he shoves Keith backwards with a yelp.

“Hunk! What — where the fuck did you come from?!”

“Yellow is not a quiet machine,” Hunk says drily. “Like, seriously. The fact that you are just now reacting to my presence speaks wonders. I know you’ve liked Keith for a while now, dude, but there’s no way he’s that good of a kisser.”

“Oh my God,” Keith says faintly, and Lance can’t help but agree.

Goddamn. First he’s kissing Keith, now he’s agreeing with him. What’s next? They gonna co-lead Voltron together, or something?

“Let’s just go,” Lance squeaks, scrambling to his feet and desperately avoiding eye contact. He follows a very amused-looking Hunk back to his lion, enduring his painful amount of teasing with a bright red face and a truly herculean amount of self-control, if he’s being honest. The teasing from the rest of the team is almost worse, their ‘Loverboy Lance’ jokes briefly making him panic that everyone knows about the fact that he and fucking Keith Gyeong just made out, somehow, before he remembers that oh yeah, dumbass, you were just tied to a pole for flirting with the a scam artist.

Yeesh. How time fuckin’ flies.

The only consolation to the staggering amount of humiliation is that Keith keeps glancing at Lance, going red, and looking away. So obviously Lance isn’t the only one so affected, which is a relief.

Once everyone has finally gotten their fill of making fun of Lance, Shiro dismisses them, and Lance makes a beeline to his room. He rushes through his skincare routine as quickly as he can, refusing to let himself think about a single thing the entire time.

It doesn’t work. Every single time he catches sight of his own reflection, he’s reminded that his face just spent inordinate amounts of time pressed against Keith’s not even an hour ago. Keith is all he can think about.

Plan. Plan. What’s the plan? Is there a plan?

It is not a surprise when he hears a knock at his door.

“So,” Keith says when Lance opens it, rocking back in his heels. “What’s — uh, what’s step two?”

Lance smiles, allowing himself to feel the giddiness that’s bubbling up his throat, the parts of him that are yelling ‘Keith! Keith Gyeong! He sought me out! He wants to go further! With me!’

“Let’s figure that out together,” Lance says, pulling Keith into the room and shutting the door. “I’m thinking this is going to be more of a two-man operation.”

[sparklingmusicofstars]

Catarina's romantic tastes

Who is most likely to end up with Catarina ?

To me, it's definitely Geordo, he has the most romantic moments and is with Catarina most of the time. We have his POV very often in almost all the volumes, especially where we can see how much he loves her. He is also definitely one of Catarina's closest friend. Now I think that 4 people can possibly be considered as romantic interests by Catarina. These people are Geordo, Keith, Maria and Sora. But they are all missing something very important to be loved romantically by Catarina.

I think that to be loved romantically by Catarina (I also looked at the game for that) you need 4 important things :

Someone very reliable, someone she can rely on, protect her and that she wouldn't have to hide anything from them and of course be able to "scold" her when she is doing reckless things

Someone she can be comfortable with, who doesn't want her to behave in a perticular way

Someone who can makes her feel good, because Catarina seems to have a serious inferiority complex, this person would have to help her having more self-confidence.

Someone who can makes romantic advances (not too much) without being uneasy.

For the time being the only people who have all those qualities (or almost) are Raphael, Sora (Aaqil), (Cezar) and maybe Nicol.

I unfortunately won't put Sophia because she is "best friend" ranked and she is helping Nicol.

Geordo : 1, (2), (4)

Geordo almost have all these qualities but he is missing a very important thing, he is not able to make her having more self confidence and that's one of the reason Catarina can't love him (now) romantically. Honestly I don't particulary like or hate Geordo (though I HATE his version in verge of doom) But one of the reason I can't love him is because it's partly his fault if Catarina lacks so much self confidence. At first I thought he didn't know about her inferiority complex but in LN13 he told her that she is always undervaluing herself so it means he knows. Moreover there is the fact that Catarina is literally harassed by the noble ladies who want to become Geordo's fiancée, he is doing nothing to stop this harassement, even if Catarina has a strong heart it doesn't mean that it can't hurt her, she is still a human. The reason why Catarina doesn't react is because she thinks that they are right, that she is not worthy of being Geordo's fiancée and that she doesn't have any qualities. I mean, Catarina is okay on Geordo CHEATING on her because she is "not good enough for him" and because she is a "villainess". It won't lead them anywhere. I think Geordo is horrible for not trying to put an end to this because I'm sure that if he has done that Catarina wouldn't have so much of an inferiority complex and could more easily love him. After all "To love someone you need to love yourself first" so as long as Catarina doesn't love herself she won't be able to love anyone. To put it simply, the reason why Catarina is so dense is because she lacks too much self confidence.

Keith : 1, (2)

In Keith's case he is lacking the 2,3 and 4. unfortunately for him he is acting too motherly so Catarina can't see him as a man, what's more he is always calling her "big sister" and it won't help him. I won't deny that Keith is a gentle man but it's also mostly his fault if Catarina is always undervaluing herself. I know that people think that he is just scolding her about that not being ladylike but he never tried to praise her even just a little to make her feel better. He didn't even try to stop the harrasement either. And he is too dependent on her to make the progress in their relationship. And honesly I don't understand why people who love Catarina can love her mother. I think she can be very mean and heartless, as good proof of it when Catarina was kidnapped she was sure that her mother would just abandon her if the ransom was too much, I felt very sad for her at that moment. And she also scolds Catarina too much and for almost nothing sometimes. Honestly If I had a mother like that I would be very gloomy all the time. So, If Keith wants Catarina to see him as a man he needs to act more manly and be more sensitive to how she feels.

Mary : 2,4

Mary is very similar to Keith for some things because, like him, she worsens Catarina's complex (though not as much as him) . By always telling Catarina how difficult it is to be a prince's consort she makes Catarina feel very bad about herself. And even if Catarina feels comfortable around Mary she doesn't see her as a reliable figure who can protect her and Mary isn't able to say the right words to make her feel better. Though regarding the romantic advances she would have no problem. But now she is more trying to protect her from her rivals.

Maria : 2 ,(3)

Even though Maria can be reliable she is unable to protect Catarina and Catarina can't see her as someone she can really rely on (since she has to save Maria all the time). Maria can't make romantic advances and is not serious about it and even if Catarina is comfortable with her she can't help but think of Maria as "the heroine" which creates a distance between them. And Maria unfortunately can't help her with her inferiority complex nor make Catarina feel better about it.

Alan : (1),2, (3), (4)

I have mixed feelings for Alan, because he has 1, 2 but he is lacking the others qualities. Unlike Keith and Geordo he doesn't make Catarina's complex worse but he still can't make her feel better about it. Maybe part of it is because they spend little time together and rarely alone. And even if he teases her and can be rude sometimes he is still very honest and gentle (when he wants it) And tsunderes are always very popular ^^ He just needs to learn how to act more manly and learn to be less shy with relationships and it will be perfect. Because if Catarina see Keith as a mother, she see Alan as a child and doesn't take him seriously in romance matters.

Nicol : 1, 2, 3, (4)

About Nicol, I think he has 1,2,3 but is lacking a bit 4. Nicol is a very gentle person and can be very romantic (take the example of LN8 and 11) Since he has a little sister he is used to take care of people and he doesn't want her to behave in a specific way because he likes her the way she is. He also doesn't make Catarina's complex worse and if he could talk more I think he could help her to be more confident. He only has one major problem...You guessed right : His devilish charm but the poor guy can't do anything about it. But with the help of Sophia and his parents who support him, I think that, if he tried he would have almost no problem to win Catarina's heart.

Raphael : 1, 2, 3, (4)

He has all the qualities needed but maybe because he doesn't have much time with Catarina he lacks a bit 4. He just wants to protect her and is okay with anyone she ends up with as long as she is happy. He can give her great advices and praise her with the right words to make her feel better and to him Catarina's opinion matters the most (like Nicol) . He isn't afraid of scolding her if needed out of worry for her and even if he doesn't see her often he is very sensitive to her feelings, sharp, and really trusts her. He just needs to be more serious about his pursue and I'm sure he would have no problem winning Catarina's heart. He is also one of the only one Catarina see as a man.

Sora : 1 ,2, 3, (4)

Sora, too, has almost all the qualities because it's obviously with him that Catarina is the most comfortable around. He is cool and reliable. Even if his ways of showing his worry can be rude or too honest he is still a very caring person and he is ready to protect Catarina as much as necessary, even indirectly. He is also quite smart because he can make subtle romantic advances to make progress. Like the way he chased the guys away at the ocean harbor by pretending it was "his job". Or the way he always takes her to her carriage at the gates of the Ministry even if it means take a detour to go back to the dorms. He doesn't particulary help her with her inferiority complex but he doesn't worsen it either.

Cezar : 1, 2, (3), 4

I don't know much about Cezar since we didn't see him much but he seems to have 1,2 and 4. Unfortunately he doesn't seem that serious about his pursue but, like Sora, he is easygoing and considerate so Catarina is very comfortable with him. But maybe because he doesn't have much time with her we can't really see him trying to win Catarina's heart. He is able to make romantic advances (but doesn't do it) and he is reliable and can protect Catarina . And he is a prince so he can perfectly compete against Geordo and the others. So I think his problem is mainly the motivation and he doesn't have much self- confidence himself and I think that's why he would be a good match for Catarina since he can help her with her complex and Catarina with his.

Aaqil : 1, 2, 4, (3)

I'm not sure about Aaqil but I think he has almost all the qualities. He is reliable and can protect Catarina, and she does see him as a man (at least not as child). He wants her to be herself and prefers when she is acting casually and is okay with her outstanding personnality. I don't know if he can help her with her complex but he can make gentle romantic advances and Catarina is comfortable with him. He has a very gentle personnality and really cares about her. I think he and Catarina just have to interact more with each other and they could end up together. He also needs to help her with her inferiority complex.

EDIT : Geordo and Keith also made an expensive mistake in their confessions. They didn't tell her WHY they love her.

[komohine]

I dont think ill ever draw this (maybe i will, i have the thumbnail but um im a smidge short on time) so theres no point in saving this hc to act as a caption

I really like the hc that it was actually james who taught keith how to use a sword (have i told you guys this hc before? I forgot…) because james has done sabre fencing since he was very young and it was one of the extracurriculars his parents forced on him that he actually enjoyed

He’d always nag at keith during their time in the garrison to come train fencing with him. Keith usually declined, but some days james was more convincing (or keith was more willing) so they’d go and james would run through all the basics. James would then win, ofc, but keith would get back at him by beating him in hand to hand combat at some later date.

Ofc not everything he learned from james wouod be applicable to his paladin weapon but it provided an extremely strong foundation that really only had him ironing out some of the more difficult maneuvers with the sword. He didnt have to work on basics even once. Any time he was in battle and his blade felt more cumbersome than useful, keith would recall what it felt like when james adjusted his foot placement and his grip. He’d reset, and suddenly the blade was just an extension of him again.

After getting back from space, keith challenged james to a sword duel. For old times sake, or maybe because he thought he’d finally have a chance at beating james after 5 years using a sword to fight almost daily.

Turns out 5 years of war was nothing on a lifetime of dedicated training (and later on, frustration venting. James sharpened his sword and would go to town on the sandbags as he almost completely abandoned his form and technique after keith left). Keith still lost, but james complimented him and said he definitely did get better, which was good enough to keith. In some ways its comforting to know that some things dont change.