#but on Keith? yeah that actually does fit on Keith’s Face

[autisticlancemcclain]

(prev chapter)

“You’re a – an actual –” Lance stammers.

Prince Keith growls, low in his throat.

“A beast.”

— — —

The Beast is bent so close that Lance feels the heat of every exhale flutter along the back of his neck, hears the silent whoosh of it rush through his ears. It makes his hairs stand on end. He circles Lance, slowly, clawed feet silent on the marble floors, yellow eyes scanning him up and down, analyzing him. Lance feels as if he is a tiny deer, separated from the rest of the herd, circled and scrutinized by a giant, hungry wolf. His heart pounds. His mouth is dry. Fear lights up every nerve in his body, forcing him on high alert.

He is in danger. Real danger, possibly, because the Prince is a beast, not simply beast-ly.

As suddenly as before, the rippling fury boils up in his belly, ramping up his heartbeat for a different reason, clearing his vision, setting his jaw.

He has come here, to this stupid fucking castle on results of a lottery ordered by decree, he has travelled days on horseback in stony silence with his brother through the predator-heavy forest, he is the only person putting himself out right now. He is the only person ripped from his home.

And Prince Loser over here has the audacity to be a dick?

“You’re an actual asshole,” Lance snaps, finishing his earlier sentence. Vaguely, behind him, he hears a muttered “Stars a-fucking-bove”, but he is too busy relishing in the blatant shock on the Prince’s face to give much of a shit. “Yeah, bet your prince-y prance-y ass hasn’t heard that one before, huh? Too busy huffing and puffing around this stupid place?” He jabs his finger in the Beast’s chest, all fear completely gone, riding the high of being the one who has the upper hand in the situation, against a prince. “And speaking of this stupid place! Clean up every fucking once in a while, will you? You have hands, do you fucking not? Pick up a broom! Fucksake! The dust here is so thick I can hardly see through it, and I’m meant to live here! It’s nasty! And maybe have one of your servants — holy shit, you’re such a douchebag, who has servants — put some fucking hay in the stables! Maybe your rich person horses can fucntion on…fucking…unicorn dick and gold flake crack, or whatever, but my horse needs fucking hay! Fuck!”

His chest heaves as he gulps in as much breath as he can, slightly lightheaded, glaring bloody murder at the Beast. “Oh, and another thing —”

“Do you have any who I am?” The Beast interrupts. His voice is barely above a whisper, deeper than before, carefully controlled. Dangerous.

Lance screws up his face. “A be-east,” he mocks, rolling his eyes. He hears rapidly cut-off, shocked laughter, poorly disguised as a coughing fit. It bolsters Lance greatly, and he smirks. “I can fucking see that, Prince Charming. I thought the nickname referred to the attitude and temper, but obviously not.”

The Beast snarls. “You are going to be the worst one yet. I cannot wait for you to go running.”

“Well, you can fucking get used to me now, shitbrain. I’m going nowhere. Pucker the fuck up, because we are getting married, and you are going to live with it, even though I cannot fucking stand you.”

The Beast scoffs, taking a step backwards. Some of the animalistic fury has faded from his posture, and his expression appears human-like in its huffy stubbornness. It’s the same expression Lance has seen every single time he went to school and someone was forced to partner with him at a desk. “Marriage. You are my last choice for that, that’s for certain.”

Lance rears back as if hit. His breathing picks back up, slightly, and his hands begin to shake.

He has no right to feel the pierce to his heart as deeply as he does. He has started the vitriol, after all. The Prince is being no crueller than he is. In fact there is objectively no cruelty to his sentence at all — of course Lance isn’t his first choice. He has had dozens of engagements before Lance. Hundreds, even. Lance isn’t even sure how many engagements he’s really had, as he’s had then as long as Lance can remember. Lance is not his first choice; not even his second or third and ninth or twentieth or two hundredth. Lance would never have even crossed his royal mind, in terms of a romantic partner.

But to be the last choice? That is explicit. That is a choice in itself. That is there are countless people on Earth, some vile some evil some irredeemable, and still they are a better choice than you. That is you are everything I despise just by virtue of who you are. That is you are my worst possible nightmare.

To be the last choice is to be so unthinkable that your inferiority is marked. To be the last choice, again and again, everywhere you go, is to be simply inferior. The worst option. The opposite of a hail mary.

Lance is always the last choice. The only time he has ever been chosen first was when he was chosen to leave.

Something in his face must give him away, because a kind of shuttered look clouds Keith expression, like he realizes he’s gone too far. Lance hates it, more than he hates the Prince himself, because he doesn’t know him, no one does, no one chooses to know the worst option, and it stings terribly and it’s worse that a stranger can burn him so badly. It’s worse that this prince, who for all intents and purposes is no one to Lance, can dig so deeply into him.

“Hey,” the Beast says, an awkward tone to his voice, “I didn’t mean —”

“Save it,” Lance chokes out, and flees. He runs randomly in the vague direction Adam and Shiro had been guiding him into before everything went to shit, ignoring their cries for him to wait, praying that no one follows. As he turns down hallways and ducks through corridors the sounds of their voices fade to nothing, and eventually he slows, chest heaving, hiccuping, face wet with tears.

Mortified that someone may see him, human or not, he opens the nearest door, barely checking to see if it’s a bedroom before collapsing on the small, rickety bed, twisting the worn quilt in his hands, and truly begins to sob. He lets out loud, wailing cries, louder than he’s ever been in his life, even when he’d run out into the woods and climb the tallest tree he could. They tear themselves out of him, the sobs, and leave him shaking in their wake, the pain of being the only one left waiting, this pain he’s carried locked up inside him since he was born, too late, too early, too nothing to be noticed. He lets the snot and tears run down his face and into the pillow and forgets for a moment to watch for a red nose and swollen eyes. He has no home to return to. There are no other people, really, in this castle to see him. His husband-to-be couldn’t care less if he flayed himself open and bled out on the marble entryway. He can let himself break, here, and not worry about keeping the pieces held closely together, because no one wanted him when he was whole, anyway.

“That’s it, honey. You let it out.”

Lance screams.

A voice screams back.

Lance screams louder. He screams until his voice cracks, actually, wrenching himself up from the mattress and scrambling backwards until his back presses to the wall, frantically sweeping the room to see who had spoken.

“Who the fuck is in here?!” he shouts, fist half-extended in front of him like it will do anything. There’s nothing in this tiny-ass room except the bed he’s sitting on an a faded yellow wardrobe.

“Yeah! Show yourself, intruder!”

“No! No intruder!” Lance turns wide eyes to face the wardrobe, which just moved. “It’s you!”

Oh, fuck this stupid weirdo castle.

“Well, of course it’s me,” says the wardrobe incredulously. “But what was all the screaming about?”

Lance stares at it. Him. Them. He’s not sure yet. He blinks rapidly, as if he can communicate the fried mush of thoughts in his brain into the sturdy wood. It, as expected, fails to work.

“I forgot,” he says slowly, “that non-living things are living, in this godforsaken place.”

The wardrobe hums. “Ah, that would do it.” It inclines the decorative carving on the top of it, which Lance can now see is a face, in his direction, smiling wryly. “Sorry for freaking you out, man. I’m Hunk. I’d shake your hand, but I don’t have arms.”

Lance smiles slightly, sniffling. “Hi, Hunk. I’m Lance.”

“It’s good to meet you, Lance.” He rocks side to side slightly. “So, uh, why are you here? Not that I’m not happy, or anything! Man, no one’s been to the servant’s quarters in ages, on account of no one needing them anymore. It’s nice to have visitors. And human ones, especially, that’s crazy —”

“I’m, uh, the fiancé,” Lance interrupts quietly. He tries for the same smile he had earlier, when he was bantering with Shiro. “Mail order bride, at your service.”

Hunk laughs loudly, shaking the floors with it, bent in an unnatural way that wood doesn’t bend but in a way that makes Lance think of a young man, smartly dressed, helping lift and fix clothes and gadgets alike in the castle. What Hunk could be if he was human, at least in Lance’s imagination.

“Aw, this is great! We’re gonna be friends, man. I can tell already. You don’t take any shit, huh?”

Lance’s eyes go wide.

That was so…casual.

“Yeah,” Lance says hastily, before Hunk can change his mind. He quickly swipes his face to get rid of the tears and look marginally less like a goober. “Sounds good, Hunk.”

Hunk nods to himself, satisfied. “Nice. Oh, hey, you must be hungry. It’s a pretty long journey up here! Want me to see if I can get you some food?”

“That’d be great,” Lance says gratefully. Wasting no time, Hunk-the-wardrobe clanks twice against the wall he’s leaning on. He waits a moment, and then there’s a three-clank response, and he smiles.

“Tea is on the way,” he promises.

Lance frowns, trying to puzzle that one out — tea? From where? How was ‘yeah there’s a guy sobbing on the bed in my room and I think we could probably get him some grub’ communicated in two wall slams? And, just for good measure, why is this castle so fucking weird? — but no sooner does he open his mouth to ask these questions does the door slam open, startling him, and quick as a horse a tea cart races in, door slamming again behind it.

“Hello, hello, darling,” says a tall, slim teapot on the cart. “I’m Colleen.”

Well.

Honestly, that’s par for the course.

“Hi,” Lance says hesitantly.

The teacup smiles gently. “I heard you had a bit of a rough start, here. Hopefully I can help smooth things over. Would you like a spot of tea?” She taps her spout on the side of the cart and a little teacup hops up. It has a face just like the teapot and every other enchanted thing here, only around its eyes is painted the largest set of spectacles Lance has ever seen, and Veronica is legally blind. “My daughter and I can get you a nice, refreshing cup, right, Katie?”

The little teacup shrugs. “Sure, I guess.”

Lance opens his mouth. He closes it again. He thinks about how he feels about drinking out of a teacup that is alive, somehow, and considers how he may phrase this, as delicately as possible.

“That’s a tad too weird for me,” he says politely. “Do we have any teacups that aren’t anthropomorphic?”

———

next chapter

[jiyansthesis]

oooo can I request angst w keith? Maybe unrequited love ? Like reader and keith are childhood friends or sthm.

I ACTUALLY HATE WRITING ANGST. but it has to be done. i'm finishing writing a smut for him so 🙏I'LL TAKE THIS ONE. hint of klance?? really implied klance??. tbh i might make a second part if enough people want it

not proofread/really short because im ass at anything other than romance and smut

today was the day.

you straightened up from where you were sitting on your bed, holding a little letter in your hand. a letter you would give to keith if you were too scared to even say it straight to his face.

"i like you." it read. you slightly cringed at how it sounded like a middle schooler's confession letter.

but it was straightforward and got the point across. if it backfired, you could always make up some crazy backstory to the note, but you were sure it wasn't going to get to that point.

you were hoping it wouldn't.

you and keith have been basically tied together for as long as you could remember. you went through elementary school, middle school, and even the garrison academy, until he eventually dropped out.

somehow you had managed to follow him into space. a chance of fate, that one night you managed to follow lance and hunk and pidge.

now basically a medic, since you weren't meant to be a paladin and this was the best job you could fit into. and so far, you've been having the time of your life for the past few months.

of course, that didn't mean you were entirely relaxed all the time. it seemed way too often that one of the paladins have to come to you to fix up an injury they had received, either on a mission or even just practicing. keith was your most normal visitor, and you definitely weren't complaining. (but you were always worried for him.)

letting out a huge sigh, you stand up from your bed and make your way to the door, it sliding open once you were in close proximity. you began sweating as thoughts raced through your mind.

what if he genuinely doesn't like you like that?

what if this ruins what you guys have been building up for years?

what if this disgusts him and he never talks to you again?

what if he does something worse than him saying "no"?

you shook your head. you weren't too confident, but you also weren't going to dampen your mood. all you have to do is go up to him, hand him the note, and wait.

you were about to go search for keith, when it turns out you didn't have to move at all. he was making it down the hallway, and he perked up a little when he saw you standing there.

"hey, i have a question," he sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck when he had finished jogging towards you.

he noticed the envelope in your hands, but paid no mind to it as you gestured for him to come inside your room.

"so, what do you want to talk about?" you held off on confessing, opting to hear him out first since he did come looking for you, and you were curious. you placed the envelope on the drawer, right next to a picture of you and keith as kids that you had always kept on you.

he slumped onto your bed, letting out a big sigh as you could see he was struggling to find words for what he wanted to say.

"i don't know what to tell lance."

"tell lance?" you questioned. maybe he needed your advice to just talk to lance about something important.

"well. . ." he hesitated.

"you can tell me anything, keith," you made your way over to him and sat next to him.

"i don't know how to tell lance i like him."

you sure as fuck weren't expecting that.

your jaw dropped, and keith watched as you turned away from, not wanting him to see your glossy eyes.

"w-well." your voice cracked, you quickly covering it up with a cough. "sorry, allergies."

when you finally faced him again, you saw him looking at you questioningly. "you alright?"

"yeah, yeah." you rubbed your eyes as if they were itchy, playing into the 'allergies' cover-up. at least he won't ask why your eyes were red and teary.

(but you knew he was smarter than that.)

"hm, well." you tried not to think about it too hard, lest you start tearing up again. "just be bold and do it. you miss all the shots you don't take."

very ironic.

he grunted as he sat up. "as if i haven't been telling myself that for months.

months?

you've been pinning for a man who's liked someone else for months. all those years of childish infatuation down the drain. all the years of thinking about a future with him.

you wished you never met him.

quickly standing up so he wouldn't see the tears threatening to fall, you excused yourself.

"i have to use the bathroom. sorry keith, i'll see you later." right before you left, you turned your head at an angle so you could see him from the corner of your eyes.

"and remember, what could go wrong?" everything went wrong for you.

but you couldn't be mad at him. you were mad you didn't see the signs. it's not his fault he wasn't in love with you, and there was nothing you could do to change that. the most you could do out of love for him is hope that him and lance get together.

the door shut behind you, leaving a very confused keith on your bed.

he also made his way to the door, trying to build up confidence to ask lance out. his eyes trailed to the picture of you and him, and he smiled. he loved you like a sister, and couldn't imagine losing you, although you did seem a bit more distant after he. . .

he realized.

looking at the letter you left on the drawer, he saw that it was addressed to him.

he didn't bother opening it, because he already knew what was in it.

"fuck," he ran a hand through his hair. you were the last person he should've asked for advice. rushing, he went looking for you.

you on the other hand were in a random hallway, rubbing your wet face to make it look as presentable as possible before you went to the training deck to work out all your feelings. is it a healthy coping mechanism? probably not. but you didn't care.

how did you not see the way the two of them interacted? they were obviously a lot closer than with the other paladins. you were stupid.

never would you ever be blinded by hopeless love ever agai-

"something wrong?" you lifted your head to see shiro gazing at you worriedly.

part 2 with shiro!?!?!?

[rosedarkness24]

Cult Shenanigans

Ghost stories

POV Ash

If you had told Ash 80 years ago that she would have her life turned upside down by a green wort worm, be put up for sacrifice to a God she didn't even know, and then saved by a adorable little lamb. She would've socked you in the face and told you to get back to work. Her old village wasn't big by any means. Smaller than the campsite they are at now. Resources were slim, and food was scarce. Being the only girl out of a litter of 7 kits, she had to learn how to fight to survive. But they were happy, and the future was looking up as they had gotten a big shipment of resources and seeds. Though they weren't expecting that the shipment was a trap.

Now, 80 years later, the last surviving member of the village. She has died, been resurrected, died again, and been resurrected yet again. For what, she honestly didn't care to know. She knew she was going to be resurrected. The Lamb always let them know, though sometimes even the Lamb couldn't keep up with who wasn't here and who was. She'd been watching her fearless leader running around doing tasks about the camp. More than what they should be doing in her honest opinion.

The heat of the day was over and giving way to the cool night breeze. The sun would be setting soon, and soon, their work day would come to an end. Shifting on her stiff legs, she let's her butt plop down onto the ground before just falling backward and groaning in tiredness. A stifled chuckle comes from her side, Keith finally making noise after three hours.

"What's wrong, Ash? Getting tired of worshipping the Lamb finally?" A feminine voice echoing across the statue. Of course, Valefar would jump on the chance to poke some fun at her.

"Not as tired as you are after a night with Thorn~" her retort was quick, gaining a dramatic gasp from the fluffy pink cat at her side.

"We have not done the naughty! We just chat a lot that's all."

"And the giggling with sounds of what is clearly you two making out?" She bumps her tail to the cat's arm.

"It's absolutely normal for couples to make out. You're the weird one without someone. Heck, even Keith has a crush on someone." Thron was not having it. Not that she could blame him, everyone has teased him for somehow managing to swing two former followers of the choas God.

"Yeah! You literally fit the lone wolf vibe like our leader. Go find someone or just ask the leader out." Yeah, that wasn't happening. From the number of times she had been witness to the Lamb's rejections, she could tell they didn't really like anyone more than as their flock.

"How about you shove it up your ass Valefar."

"Bitch! I am saying you need a life outside of devoting your existence to the Lamb and Death." She wasn't wrong. All Ash has done since she's been here was devote herself to the Lamb and The One Who Waits. But it's not like a 24.7 thing, she does hang out with her friends, just not as much as she likes showing her devotion. She wanted so desperately to be at the Lamb's side. To be the once they confide in, but so far, they have been distant.

"Well, if we're done poking fun at each other, let's head to bed. Night fall is upon us soon."

"You're dodging the topic, Ash~" The fuzzy red silk worm moves past the statue over to the group. Closing Ash in their little bubble.

"I have a life outside of devoting myself to our God and Lamb. I just know when to separate work from play." Sitting up off the ground finally, she stretched out her back a bit. She wasn't able to do an actual full stretch while sitting on the ground like Thorn. But in a way, she counts that as a blessing. She knows her limits.

"Plus, isn't this like our job? We power the Lamb to help free our God. What else could anyone wish for?" The looks she got weren't ones she liked.

Keith scratches the back of his head. Despite him being the first follower, he never really seemed to be eager about all this. More than once, has he fought with the Lamb about their decisions. And while she understood his values didn't aline well with the Lamb's. It's those same values that have kept him from his death. Those same values showed him that it was okay to be flawed.

"Ash.... I don't think we should sacrifice our health..... especially our mental health." He nervously taps his fingers together. "And That's kinda worrisome behavior...."

"Oh, okay. So we all know Keith is a skeptical bitch." Valefar claps her hands together and takes a deep breath, shooting a glare at Keith who was trying to speak again. "We aren't saying love is devotion. There's a difference, and while you do have devotion. You clearly also have a thing for the Lamb."

How can she have a thing for the Lamb? She wasn't even sure they even thought she was even a friend. Isn't this a little jumping the gun? She sighs, pitching the bridge of her snout out of frustration.

"While you're might not be wrong about me wanting to know them more, that's it. I don't know about you, but I don't think they even know that we exist outside what we do." She pushes herself up off the ground and brushes herself off. "Plus, looking at this from a more modest perspective, I want to be someone they can trust. And I will do so without pushing them out of their boundaries."

Thorn smiles softly and takes her arm into his. "I agree with this. That's a lot healthier way of getting into a relationship compared to my way."

"Oh? Was me pin-"

"Aaaaaahhh! Valefar nooooo!" Quickly, the pink cat covers his taller lover's mouth.

----

Night had fallen hours ago yet. Sleep didn't come for the four, so to combat this, they decided to sneak off to the temple to tell ghost stories. Like scarring the shit out of each other would fix their insomnia. It mostly fueled Valefar's and Ash's gremlin behavior as Keith was too easily spooked by things, and Thorn was so fluffy when they got to scare him.

Keith had been bad at telling ghost stories compared to the rest. Thorn's while can be scary. It was more a predictable scary. Valefar's genuinely scared them all. For a former follower of chaos, she definitely showed follower of death traits long before all this. Graphically telling of true horror stories about things she has done in the past to those who didn't follow the old faith.

Meanwhile, Ash seemed to be more on the supernatural side of ghost stories. Her turn, having rolled around again, She was growing tired. But the others clearly were still wide awake. It was definitely close to midnight or past midnight now. And none of them are going to want to wake up tomorrow. Taking a deep breath, letting her mind clear so she could tell her story. Her ear flicks, and she opens her eyes, an idea in mind now.

"You ever hear about the Lambs that were all sacrificed? What happened to their souls?" Her voice had drops a bit with the seriousness in it.

"A bit of an insensitive story, Ash." Keith crossed his arms, not amused by this at all. And he wouldn't be wrong if he wasn't the one pointing it out. But so far, there were no objects to her using this topic.

"Oh, shut up, Keith. Valefar has been telling fucking old faith stories this whole time." Thorn jabs back to the fawn. "Continue with your story, Ash. I know that I personally never heard anything about what happened to the lambs' souls before."

A smirk danced on the fox's lips as Thorn allowed her to continue. "In my old village, not too far from this campground actually." A lie, "We had worked throughout the night, and when night falls, the barrier between life and death is lowered by the magic in the air. So it was a great time to craft magic infused items to make a protective barrier around the village. Like how the Lamb has those just outside the campground." She gestures to where the stone wall would be outside the temple.

"That night, me and my brother, Jackson, were assigned this task. We hadn't ever done this before. So we spent the whole day learning each one who what they were supposed to do." She leans back and reaches up into the air.

"We came up with a game plan. I would take care of my half of the village while he did his half. It's quicker that way. And we could possibly get a few more hours of sleep." Grabbing onto the air, a silent gesture to how untrue their thoughts were.

"Everything started out fine. I was able to get halfway through my side in such a short time. Finding the whole process of blessing and crafting a mind-numbing experience. I guess I never really noticed the movement in the treeline till I was just mear inches from it."

The room was silent in her momentary pause. She had captured their attention now. "I would not lie. If a doll could be made creepy, it was then. Because right in front of me was a doll of a lamb. One poorly made, I guess it had been made by a lamb if I were to think about it clearly now. Though at the time, it wasn't something we'd make. So, seeing it hanging from a string on its neck really freaked the hell out of me."

Keith's face contorted to confusion, as well as Thorn's. Both had been expecting her to scare them then. Valefar was more interested now. For her, this wasn't normal behavior of a sane person. This was the behavior of someone who genuinely wanted to get a reaction out of Ash.

"I don't really know how to explain it, so this might sound shitty. But just looking at that doll gave me this more unsettling feeling, like something, or someone was just trying to get my attention. I felt like I needed to quickly finish what I was doing there before anything else were to happen." She leans forward. "After a while, though, you can't ignore the eyes, bareing into you back."

The boys both tense up unsettled by the feeling. Being so invested that they themselves felt the pinpricks of goosebumps crawling around their backs. It felt so real to what Ash was saying, as if they actually did have eyes on their backs. Thorn's fur raised making him much larger that he truly was.

"Time didn't seem to go so fast anymore. Going back to a sail pase, as their was silence in the air around me. Nothing dared to make a sound other than me. Cross, wrap, bless, cross, wrap bless." They all seemed to be sitting on the edge ready for something, anything to happen. Uneasiness filled the air as if they were being circled by a predator.

"Snap... I broke one of the sticks." She hangs on the eerie silence. "It's next to me now. I can feel its breath down the side of my neck. But I dare not to look. Don't look Don't-"

"WhErE's My HeAd~" The deeper, monotone, broken voice of a half awake grumpy Lamb comes just beside Thorn and Keith. Causing both to scream in pure terror and scrabble out of the temple. A very shocked and scared Valefar was dragged out by her hairbairned boyfriend. All this just cracked the fox up.

She heard the Lamb coming out of their hiding spot within the temple before. Where exactly that was, she didn't even care. It was just convenient for her to scare the others to bed. She'd been laughing hysterically at her peers. She looked over to the Lamb in her fit of laughter.

They were smiling rather amused as well from the whole interaction. "Having fun there, my dear?" They stepped into the light, the red glow around their mouth and eyes flipping back into their natural look. Though lately after the first bishop's death, their eyes have been slowly turning more red by the day.

"Very my Lamb. It's about time we headed to bed. Thank you for helping them to bed."

There was silence as the Lamb watched her from where she sat. She was suddenly very glad that she was a black fox, as she could feel embarrassment crawling at her.

"....Rest here for the night. It'll keep them in bed." They move over the the podium. Opening up the side and pulling out a few blankets and bags of wool as pillows. "Plus, you look like you're about to pass out right here and now. So bedrest is in order." They smile at her seemingly to be completely unaware of her embarrassment.

"Thank you, my L-"

"Max.... my name is Maximum, but call me Max."

"Thank you, Max." She smiles softly up to them, glad to see them opening up, even a little bit.

[smolstarthief]

So I finally watched Hazbin Hotel...

And good lord I got caught up aaaaaand...

I FUCKING LOVE IT!!!!

Just the setting, the characters and their designs, the SONGS!!! GAH!!! As someone who loved going to/watching Broadway shows/musicals with their dad, this was so much fun!

Husker is a definite fave since he's such a mood! That and I love Keith David (aka Dr. Facilier) so that's a bonus! Also I'm addicted to HuskerDust right now guys! "Loser, Baby" has me in chokehold ok??

Alastor is still neat and I love him but... God damn one moment I'm just laughing at his antics and wanting to smush his face but then the next moment I want to kick him in the shins! Also he and Lucifer should kiss already!!

And I guess somewhat of a hot take but this show and Helluva Boss tackles the dark topics such as different forms of abuse and trauma WAAAAAAY better than P5 ever did (cultural differences aside tho which is still fair on that end). They just... Felt so raw but it felt... Almost validating? Relatable even?

I love P5 to death and it does some subjects well but then it just... Flops a bit somehow along with humor that can be forced at best, tasteless at worst.

Idk I think my time in the fandoms had me realize just how… Very, VERY gatekeepy people are when it comes to depictions of abuse and trauma. It's like… It feels very infantilizing and even grossly uncomfortable with those kinds of people. Especially if said people just actually haven't experienced such things so they don't really have room to talk about what counts as a "good" representation of such topics. They should just say they don't actually care about victims at this point, especially when they put down actual victims when they try to defend such depictions. Like it's uncomfortable and it's valid to feel such but that's the point and some victims felt comfort and heard and that should be a good thing. But no, they don't fit people's ideal molds of victims so they're not valid as such (aka "perfect victims")… I understand people not feeling comfortable and it's valid, just try to be understanding of how others feel.

Sorry it's just such a bitter realization I reached and explains why I struggle with wanting to defend such things as a victim of psychological/emotional abuse.

But yeah, I can totally understand if you guys aren't interested for one reason or another and that's fine! Just don't be rude or mean about it.

[localfanbaselurker]

I’m watching “Voltron: Legendary Defender” for the first time and these are my compiled thoughts.

This is Season 3

(S 1-2) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8)

———————————————————————

<this one will be a little longer because I took more pictures when I watched these two seasons, as I got a little more invested in the show>

(Edit: apparently I can only put 10 pictures per post, so while I planned for this to be season 3 and 4, this has to be a solo season post because I have wayyyy too many thoughts and a lot of them need accompanying pictures)

Pre-Season 3

-> I wonder who is gonna be the new black paladin, I hope it’s Allura. Or Keith I guess, but his ass is NOT ready for leadership

-> I need to know where Shiro is. Bring back my Cruella Deville!

-> the witch is altean! This is gonna be sooo important I just know it

-> I wonder how Allura and Keith will interact now that she sorta accepted him being part galra. that’s actually a really interesting topic.

->Keith being galra is gonna be something very important as well I think.

-> Pidge BETTER find her brother and father this season or I swear Dreamworks is gonna catch these hands

Post-Season 3

-> ^if villain why hot?

->his ideals are giving Roman Empire. (I guess that makes sense considering he’s the prince of the Galra Empire)

->^hmmm.🤨🤔 (I know what you are)

->^Space TyLee! And Space Asami, too!

->^oh so Keith gets to be insecure now, I guess everyone gets their own “angst” episode

->^hes the first to comfort him! is this a “klance” moment? It feels like one

->^Once again have to talk about Allura and her dad. She already threw away all her dad’s memories and his “essence” of him. Now she can’t even stay connected to him by piloting his lion ☹️. I genuinely get so sad every time I think about her. 🙁 All I do at 3 am is cry. 😕

->I originally got super sad about that, but then she became the blue one and I was really happy. But I was reallyyyy confused about the schematics of the switches. (still kinda am) like the lions don’t fit their personalities. And isn’t it the point that they get chosen for a reason?? Like when the blue one chose Lance in s1? And the red one chose Kieth, etc. ?? I guess it makes sense for them to call on other paladins when Shiro “dies” (his ass is not dead, I’m 100% sure of that) but Allura fits Black/Red better imo.

-> But then again, I did like how it was executed/explained. “Oh Lance ur the new red one cus you accepted Keith as ur leader and now you have to be the right hand. Get it cus red is Voltron’s right arm??” like yeah. And of course:

->^Allurance!! I finally see it, now.

-> Also, my supposed question about “langst” was proven wrong, there’s more than just the “seventh wheel” episode.

“Not only am I not meant to be the leader, I guess… I guess now I’m not even meant to be a paladin”

He is really insecure about that isn’t he? Does any of this ever get resolved??

-> this season was huge for klance apparently. They have so many moments together. When they get dragged by evil elsa Lotor to that weird planet and have their lions talk face to face, the shoulder touch, them seeking each other out for/being the first to give the other comfort/reassurance, “Leave the math to Pidge” , Lance being the most upset that Keith isn’t at the parade thing, their teamwork in “Tailing a Comet”, “Yeah, who am I gonna make fun of?”

You guys just kept winning this season honestly slay.

-> The Lore drop that Coran did about the creation of Voltron/Original Paladins. Bro

->I’m still hung up on that. Honerva I could have saved you.

-> Gotta say though im all for an evil couple.

-> I loved all the S1 call backs to the original paladins “I’m a leg!” Like yeah 🩷 you are 💛 and the og blue paladin does the “lance in the intro” thing

->^When they form Voltron for the first time in the flashback, the colors are brighter, much like the original 80s show’s colors, and the captions later read “Defender of the Universe”, which was the name of the original Voltron show. This is an especially fun detail because not only are they honoring the “original paladins/voltron” of the show’s lore, they are also doing so in reference to the original show itself, which I think is all so beautiful

->Baby Allura is soooo cute!

-> We get Shiro back! I knew he wasn’t dead. Low key I was scared he lost another arm or something but no! He’s okay 🖤🤍

-> I did some research and it turns out he is in fact 25, I don’t know whether to be happier or sadder for him. On one hand, thank fuck he’s not like 15-17 like the others, on the other hand, he should be at the club. He should be finding love, he should be at his 9-5 paying taxes and doing laundry not having his arm chopped off and replaced with magic and having to fight in the space coliseum and then escaping and having to pilot a giant robot and be a part of an intergalactic war. (I suppose that last part is true for all of them, but the rest is shiro-specific, and it all makes me a little sad)

-> call me crazy but he looked hotter when his hair was long

-> on that note, WHERE did he find a razor. Did he just use a sword or something?? Like in mulan??

-> in “Tailing a Comet”, they apparently meet alternate space reality!Kuvira from atla:lok , and ASR!Bataar Jr. I mean, really, down to the bun and the mole, as well as the controlling dictatorship-esque behavior and the “really, this is actually for their own good” attitude when it comes to said controlling behavior. Did the writers of each show just share ideas or??

-> im so serious with that last question. The thing that came out of the “quintessence rift” that the original paladins had to fight? A dark spirit from LoK: Book 2: Spirits. Whatever tf happened to zarkon when he got too close? When Unalaq got possessed by Vaatu. I mean really, were they just passing cards like go fish?

->I genuinely cried when Keith left for the Blade of Marmora (to save time, I’m gonna start calling them the “Blades” or “BOM”)

-> however, I feel like him leaving for the blades is gonna be really plot relevant later on

-> I think that’s when S3 ended im pretty sure. I don’t have further thoughts other than those I could’ve discussed if I could upload enough pictures for my S4 thoughts that accompanied them.

These are thoughts I’ve had compiled for a while. I finished S3 on 06/26/24 and S4 on 06/30/24. As of today (07/3/24) I am on S5E3.

I will continue to post my thoughts/Updates on the tag “laura’s first vld”

[trailerparkbard]

Dancin’ in the Dark [pieces from part 2]  (A Gay Bar/Eddie Bartender AU) Part one [tumblr] Part one [edited on Ao3]

Even when Steve isn’t at the bar he’s thinking about the bar. It’s kind of a problem in the way that he doesn’t see it as a problem at all. The Hideout had awoken something in him. Seeing all those other people — people like him — for the first time. Steve feels like he could think about something farther away than tomorrow. Like there might be a possibility for something better than what his parents had mapped out for him. There was space now for something that didn’t end with him a shell of a man who couldn’t look at himself in the mirror. He starts filling the silence of his parents’ empty house with daydreams of a different future.

There’s only one place in his life that leaves him feeling guilty of his newly found queer liberation. He confesses to Robin. He tells her how bad he feels taking time from the kids to get with some unnamed guy on a sticky dance floor. Robin laughs from her spot upside down across his bed. “You’re supposed to be making adult friends, dingus.” She laughs and leans up to vigorously ruffle his hair. “This is actually personal growth,” she adds excitedly. “I’m so proud of you! Get that dick, Steve Harrington.” His embarrassed shove instigates a flailing, sharp-limb tussle that ends with them both in a heap on the floor panting for breath. But Steve thinks, Robin’s elbow stabbing into his shoulder, yeah! He’s an adult. He has needs. And most importantly, he has so much time to make up for. He will get that dick.

If the man that flashes in his mind is a lanky bartender with too much hair and a wide smile, well, no one else needs to know.

It’s spring break and Hawkins is full of far-flung college students returning home to a small town that doesn’t fit them anymore. Some of Steve’s old crew wandered into Family Video, bored and curious about their once-promising friend who never left town. Steve leans against the counter, trapped by the forced professionalism of needing to keep his job while they gush at him. He can’t imagine a worse way to spend the weekend than listening to Tommy and Carol and everyone fucking else who left him talking about all great <em>college</em> things he’s missing out on.

Robin gags silently behind them from where she’s putting away tapes. They finally leave when Steve says “yeah, fine. I’ll try to stop by.” Robin hip checks him as she swings around the counter. “Well that sounds awful,” she says, her disdain for former Hawkins High royalty a beautiful gift. Steve sighs shakes his head. “Yeah, no way in hell am I going over there.” He rubs a hand down his thigh, wonders when he lost the last things he had in common with his former friends and became something different.

Keith made them close that night. It was cruel and Robin is certain he did it to spite them. She’s planning petty revenge from the bathroom where she’s putting on lipstick and eyeliner. Steve is in his room standing in front of the mirror and yeah, ok, he’s flexing a little bit. He approves of the way his ass looks in these jeans, the way his arms show a little bulge against the tight cotton of his t-shirt. He is restless and frustrated and a little bit pissed off but at least he looks fucking <em>good</em>.

The bar is crowded by the time they get there. Steve is shocked by the number of new faces, wonders when he became able to identify the old ones. He tugs Robin close and kisses her head. “You ready to break some hearts, Buckley?” She laughs, “Hell yeah!” and pulls him into the crowd.

Steve is surprised (definitely not <em>flattered</em>) that Eddie notices them as quickly as he does. He gives a trilling wave of his fingers as he finishes pulling a pint. It’s not like he had been looking for them, Steve reasons to himself. Their attendance, while not uncommon, is sporadic at most. After Eddie serves up the order he was working on he slides over to Steve and Robin.

“Lotta new faces tonight,” Steve says by way of greeting and groans inwardly at how uncool he sounds. Eddie laughs though, his smile big when he says, “yeah, princess, you’re basically old news now. Not even on the radar.” And Steve… doesn’t really know how to take that. But Eddie is not trying to hide how he’s looking at the way Steve’s shirt hugs his chest, tongue caught between his teeth. Steve breathes out and the prickle of offense doesn’t take root.

“Yeah, you seem totally unaffected by Steve,” says Robin dryly, reminding them both of her presence, her lack of beverage. Eddie grins and it’s a little mean, a little guilty. “Sorry Robin. You look very nice tonight, too. Less my type but uhhh.” He takes a few careless glances over her face before nodding, “is that a new lipstick? The ladies are gonna love it.”

“Jesus Christ,” Robin groans and turns around. She is far too sober for whatever the fuck <em>this</em> is becoming. She turns to Steve. “Bring me a drink when you’re done with this horrible attempt at flirting. Thank you. Goodbye.” Steve turns red, can’t even defend himself because she’s already gone, flouncing off to a group of women who look vaguely familiar and scream with excitement when they see her.

“Bummer.” Says the guy next to Steve who Eddie had shushed. It sounds a lot like “services you assholes right.”

Steve shares a bewildered look with Eddie, who mumbles, “I was trying to be nice,” while tugging on his curls in embarrassment. 

---

lmao this is so rough and I’m having a bit of a hard time with a few scenes after this. so yes i am posting it as motivation/accountability. BUT i just gotta say it is taking so much willpower not to rename this fic “get that dick, steve harrington!”

 (kind /& supportive words so truly appreciated xo).

[mesillusionssousecstasy]

Ginny & Georgia Season 2: Quotes

- “Ten minutes, or I’m taking away your phone. (Ellen Baker) - Good. We’re wasting our lives chained to these screens for our dopamine hits. Does it actually make us more fulfilled? No.” (Marcus - Episode 1)

- “Uh-uh. I’m just gonna smile and be pleasant. That’s what families do on holidays. Pretend to like each other, damn it.” (Ginny - Episode 1)

- “I don’t know, I don’t care, I’m numb. I’m generally numb.” (Episode 1)

- “So love you, mean it, hate you, kidding, bye.” (Maxine - Episode 1)

- “Ginny, life is a game. And if you’re not playing, chances are you’re the one getting played.” (Georgia - Episode 2) 

- “You’re just gonna stroll in after a week with an air of mystique and zero explanation?” (Georgia - Episode 2)

- “We’re gonna talk a lot about what you think and what you feel, because that’s gonna influence what you do.” (Therapist - Episode 2)

- “Why does everything have to be so terrible all the time, forever?” (Episode 2)

- “It’s the free will theory on a theological spectrum. And on the basis of Buddhism, we suffer so we know happiness. Also, people are dicks.” (Marcus - Episode 2)

- “At some point, you get tired of being played with. Trust is a funny thing. It’s so easily abused. And betrayal leaves a metallic taste.” (Ginny - Episode 3)

- “Hey, how high do I have to be to never think anything ever again?” (Episode 3)

- “It sucks when you’re with someone and you’re into them way more than they’re into you.” (Padma - Episode 3)

- “Why’d you do it, Mom? (Ginny) - Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to.” (Georgia - Episode 3)

- *But you have to live for the future, ‘cause the past’ll eat you. There’s more to life than that hell.” (Episode 3)

- “You don’t get to be the decider of the moral high ground.” (Episode 4)

- “Do I remember a missing person’s case from over a decade ago?” (Episode 4)

- “I’m the one who’s mad, not you. (Max) - Oh, I’m sorry, Max. Did I disrupt the equilibrium of the universe by suggesting that something not be centered around you? You talk a lot, but it’s not all quality.” (Ginny - Episode 4)

- “Do you ever feel all this pressure to just fit in everywhere and act perfect all the time? (Ginny - Episode 4)

- “I call it glitter magic. Add a little sparkle to anything, and no one will see the ugly underneath.” (Georgia - Episode 6)

- “’cause he doesn’t know that you’re not Jesse, the third-grade teacher and that you’re actually a low-budget Keith Mars here to ruin my day.” (Georgia - reference to Veronica Mars - Episode 6)

- “You know, the enemy of happiness is wanting things.” (Marcus - Episode 6)

- “Sometimes, it’s better to apologize after than to ask for permission before.” (Episode 6)

- “Never let ‘em see you cry. Strong face, strong front. What they don’t know, they can’t use against you.” (Georgia - Episode 7)

- “G, I’ve changed. (Gil) - So you said. (Georgia) - You don’t believe people can change? (Gil) - Sure they can, just not for the better.” (Georgia) 

- “Yeah, but no one’s allowed to get over me. That’s the rule.” (Episode 7)

- “Okay. Where do you think we are, Euphoria? Let’s go.” (Maxine - Episode 7 - reference to Euphoria)

- “That’s the problem. No one person should be responsible for your happiness. That’s not fair. You shouldn’t be with me, but you shouldn’t be with her either. We both got something that we needed, and we wished it was with... someone else.” (Episode 8)

- “You know what? I hate promises because anyone who has ever made a promise to me has broken it because they’re liars.” (Ginny - Episode 8)

- “I don’t have room... for anyone else’s pain right now.” (Marcus - Episode 8)

- “But being loved takes work too. I don’t have it in me to be loved right now.” (Marcus - Episode 8)

- “You know, there’s nothing more dangerous than a beautiful girl. (Gil) - Sure there is. A violent man.” (Georgia - Episode 9) 

- “Ready to see where they put the Curriculum 2 kids? Yeah, where the lighting’s bad and the standards are low.” (Abby - Episode 9)

- “No one else you purposely or accidentally unalived?” (Ginny - Episode 9)

- “I know you don’t like me. - It’s not that I don’t like you, it’s that I hate you.” (Episode 9)

- “You seek me out. You come to me at Christmas Eve, you flirt with me. I don’t know what you’re doing, Georgia, or why you’re doing it.” (Joe - Episode 9)

- “He’s a troubled kid, but he loves you. He’s just got his own demons. He recognizes that you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him. Love isn’t enough though. I wish it was, but it isn’t always.” (Georgia - Episode 9)

- “I don’t want you guys to see that ugliness ever, but that ugliness exists, and I can’t always shield you from it. But we can get through anything if we stick together, right?” (Georgia - Episode 9)

- “You guys are fine, right? Not emotionally scarred beyond repair?” (Georgia - Episode 10)

- “But I kinda just started getting over you, and this kinda feels like a weird thing for you to do. Do you still have feelings for me? (Marcus) - I just thought it was real. Just because it ended doesn’t mean it wasn’t real.” (Ginny - Episode 10)

- “I don’t know, exes are annoying, in that they’re, like, still alive even after they break up with you.” (Episode 10)

- “It doesn’t always have to be fine, Abigail, okay? (Norah) - Yeah, boys are very pointless.” (Abigail - Episode 10)

- “I get why you did it. It’s noble... to let someone who loves you go if you’re only gonna hurt’em.” (Georgia - Episode 10)

- “Don’t you think I know this is what I’ve always wanted? I don’t belong here, okay? I’m a fraud. I’m a con artist. I’m a phony. I’m a damaged, unlovable, trailer-park teen mom murderer. I told ya, love isn’t enough. (Georgia) - Why don’t you think you deserve happiness? (Ginny) - I do not trust happiness. There’s a difference. He wouldn’t wanna marry me if he knew everything.” (Georgia - Episode 10)

- “You were there for me when I needed you, and then you weren’t there anymore, and I felt that. And then I heard you tell Max that you didn’t wanna be with me. You needed me to be there for you. (Ginny) - Okay, you hate me. I deserve it. Okay, I didn’t mean for things to get this far. It kind of just happened.” (Marcus - Episode 10)

- “Do I mind?” (Episode 10)  - “Yes, I mind. You’re a child. I’m not giving you substances.” (Joe - Episode 10)

[bluedemon1995]

October 2: Meteor Shower

Alternate Universe

Keith was annoyed. He wanted to go riding. By himself-fast. He needed his private weekly jaunts, where he raced his bike over miles and miles of highway into the desert. No destination. No obeying the speed limit. No fucking helmet. Just sharp turns, wind in his face and the feeling of freedom, hell it was not simply needed but necessary. Vital. It helped clear his head and ensured that he was able to get through each week with no fights, well no physical fights, at least. So he was more than annoyed, he was pissed.

And for the times when his week was really shit? Like this week, when he failed a major exam, lost hours at the garage due to a power outage and discovered James was a member of his gym, well, he needed a little more. So after a week like this, he typically visited his old property where a dirt bike stashed in a shed to get a little more adventurous. If he was honest, he had been looking forward to this night since as early as Wednesday. But nooooo. Shiro decided to impress his new boy toy and volunteered Keith as an offering. He SO owed him!

Sighing he looked up at Shiro who was staring lovingly at his phone. Dude. How the mighty have fallen. But since it was Shiro he didn’t say anything and instead, he was standing on the side of the highway in some diner’s parking lot with a spare helmet.

“They are almost here!! Keith, I really need you to be, well, the best version of yourself tonight. You know I love you, but, this is Matt and his baby sister. And, no don’t give me that look! She’s been bullied in the past and Matt’s really protective of her. You can understand. So, if you…you...know act badly, that will really mess this up for me. So, I’m asking you to please be on your best behavior. Please. Be patient and kind.”

Keith rolls his eyes, “Whatever, I’m here aren’t I?”

“Keith! I’m just-“ Shiro pauses and grins, “I hear his car.”

Keith laughs, “Hear? Dude it’s an electric car you aren’t hearing anything! But yeah, the headlights give it away. So where are we headed again?”

“There’s an overlook about 20 miles down this highway. Stop there. Both of them are really into space like us, so GUESS WHO is seeing the meteor shower tonight?”

Keith sighed as the car’s interior lights glowed as the door swung open. Well at least there was something in it for him. He actually forgot the meteor shower was tonight after the shit week he had. He squinted as the two Holt siblings got out of the car. Hmmm, his Holt was probably the short one. Hell, how old was she? She looked like a kid. But at least she had pants on and a jacket. Suitable riding gear. Small wins.

“Fuck off Matt, I told you that I had plans! I don’t need to third wheel your dates.”

Keith blinked as she came closer. Okay, maybe not a kid after all.

He heard Matt retort, “Playing video games and eating junk food does NOT qualify as plans dear sis.”

Just then, Keith got his first look at her as she walked into the halo of light from the diner’s parking lot sign. His heart stuttered, he knew her! Or well he’s seen her. She was in engineering classes, top of the class. Frowning he tried to remember what was said about her. Hmmm, he thought her name was Pidge? Pidge Holt? Or not, he thought Shiro mentioned a Katie. IF it was was the same girl, though, the word genius fit. Mouthy. Sarcastic. Hell, she had the nerve to walk up to the board and correct a professor. Everyone was talking about it. He smirked.

Hell, it was big if he heard about it! It was epic. But he really liked the attitude. Then just as she stepped up to where Shiro and him were standing, all thought stalled. No one mentioned she was so cute. Blinking, his eyes snapped up to Shiro’s gleeful gaze. Well hell. Maybe, just maybe he wasn’t too mad. Maybe, just maybe this night will be better than he thought!

[void-tiger]

I still hate Shiro’s all-white (grey) hair.

I hate what it codes, I hate how he got it.

(...and I especially hate that he doesn’t even get to keep his jawline, long neck, and have his undercut faded back in for visual interest. And that it’s JIRO’s Face he’s staring out of and it’s never been so obvious that the two weren’t exactly 100% identical in bone structure and body type...y’know, other than there’s so rarely a Mir Got To TRY anymore. Who knows. Perhaps WashedOut! Chimera!Shiro was copy&pasted over Hawkins or Sam, afterall. HAHhhh...)

[erithel]

You know they should've labeled keith as "inactive member" instead of "former member" when he joined the blade of marmora. Like he's still part of the team but he won't be participating in voltron activities and we all know he's coming back so yeah.

I was going to type out a long-ass response to this until I remembered I would basically be re-typing an entire scene from the fic I'm currently working on lol. But yes – labeling him a "former member" means he is never coming back. He's with the Blades for good, and he doesn't have a place on the team any longer. Ever. That doesn't fit with Shiro telling him they'd still be there for him if he needed (don't remember the exact line, but it was something like that). But it does fit with the face Keith makes as he walks away from the team. Because I do not believe he ever expected to come back. I would have loved to see scenes during this time where the characters expressed how they felt about that whole situation. It would have actually been really interesting if Lance, Hunk and Pidge all expected Keith to return – like, they didn't even think him leaving permanently was an option – and on the other end of it, Keith had decided that last day when he walked away would be basically the final time he'd ever see them in person. It would have shown the difference in perspective of kids who grew up in loving families, and one who grew up in foster care. And it would have made for a great reunion when he actually was forced to come back and take leadership again. That is, of course, if they had actually talked about it. Labeling him a "former member" of Voltron, and then immediately replacing him with Allura in the Voltron show definitely makes it feel like they all were just kindof waiting for him to leave – and once he did, they were all relieved to move on.

[ruvatia]

Sorry if this is a bit much with everything going on, but could I request a scenario where the Paladins + Matt & Lotor have a black s/o and they’re scared abt everything that’s happening in their country and are sad that racial injustice is happening? I’ve been rlly worried the past few days, but if this is smth too uncomfy I understand ;w; Thank you 💖💖💖

This got really long, I apologize but I turned it into half-headcanons with just the main paladins-- i apologize for not doing all the characters you’ve mentioned, but I don’t think they would fit all in a single post anyways www

On another note I hope you and every other reader take good care of their mental health; it’s important to be aware of what’s going on but it’s also important to be in the right mindspace to be able to tackle everything that’s being shared. It’s pain that’s been boiling for a very long time and there is absolutely no shame in taking some downtime to recover before heading back into current issues.

SHIRO:

If you were saddened, Shiro would suggest that maybe you switch to something else; if there was something that he knows will distract you and temporarily have you be a little more at ease, he’d do that!

But also maybe add a little twist-- extra soft blankets (fresh out of the oven! Screw the bills you’re worth it), extra cheese on your favorite dish, whatever it is that can make your smile a little wider, bigger or brighter just let him know!

Would give you hugs if you asked, but usually Shiro pets your head and brushes your cheek for comfort

He also does this when he wants to ask something of you, but thats another story

Why the TV was still on was a mystery to you, you’d stopped listening a long time ago. Your partner besides you noticed, and you felt the hand around your shoulder tighten his grip a little, bringing you out of your thoughts.

“Hey, maybe we should watch something else?” he asked softly, brushing your cheek with his hand. “I can’t really listen to this anymore.”

“Yeah… Sure.” you replied, though it felt like an automated response more than your actual opinion.

“Okay, I’ll switch to that weird show Pidge recorded the other day, we agreed to watch it, right?” he replied, quickly grabbing the remote to change the program.

The first episode started playing, but the moment that it did, you felt cold as Shiro left your side.

“Where are you going?” you asked, your interlaced fingers the only thing keeping him close.

“Ah, I thought I’d make us something. We both kinda skipped dinner….”

He’d thought about putting something together that you’d like, maybe order dessert to surprise you but seeing the look on your face, leaving your side was the hardest thing to do right now.

So he gave in, and your both fell asleep until the doorbell rang with your delivery.

KEITH:

I have this headcanon that Keith isn’t very good with physical touch but after the end of voltron and after enough time of humanitarian relief, he learns how important it is for someone that’s in a specific state of mind

So the best he has to offer when his words fail is physical touch

Over your time together he’s learned what you need depending on your mood, and it helped him out lots when you were more vocal about it-- if anything he liked it when you asked for things that he could easily deliver, he’d do anything to see you smile

A hand came over your phone screen, Keith’s fingers lacing into yours and making you drop the device onto the crevices of the sofa.

“Why did you--”

“You’ve been staring at that thing for the past hour, biting at your nails.” he said in a worried tone. “That’s enough. We’re going to bed.”

“But it’s just--”

“We’re going to bed.” he repeated in a harsher tone, lifting you off your seat.

Keith sat down onto the bed first, pulling you into him. You both fell onto the bed, Keith quickly pulling the covers over your shoulders before his arms came around you.

“My alarm is my phone.”

“That’s nice, but we both know we have nothing to do tomorrow.” he replied right away, making you chuckle.

“Keith…” you called, your hands sneaking up to his face.

You brushed away some of his hair from his face as he gave you a complicated expression, unable to reflect the small smile you wore. He knew things were shit outside, that being apart from your family and other loved ones was a toll on both you and that lately negative thoughts have plagued you more often than not but Keith, despite his good intention was still somewhat of an awkward man.

“Thank you.”

He kissed you in reply and you both left it at that, glad that he had someone like you to meet him halfway.

LANCE:

Lots of hugs the moment he feels something is off with you

Will be a brat™ for the sole purpose of distracting you, bET

I feel like post-series Lance tries his best to be as observant as Allura and tries to understand others better-- but it didn't take a genius or incredible empath to know why your eyes looked like they were about to overflow at the sight of the news.

I’d like to think that Lance, with a big connected family is one of the paladins that very easily gets what you’re going through, wouldn’t be surprised he’s been called one or two things in his past either

That being said it doesn’t mean that he completely understands your personalized struggles with racial injustices that you encounter everyday; as another minority himself + coming from a culture and upbringing that might be different than yours, its a very different experience.

Memories flooded as the news anchor spoke about “lootings” and as you scrolled down your feed to see feeble attempts at sympathy from local peacekeepers. You sigh and retweet another thread, only to find something equally as shocking right after. You stopped commenting in quote retweets a while ago, you felt like you were constantly repeating that none of this was okay and that a reform was desperately needed. Rather than typing out your thoughts you typed out your name, address and email over and over again, signing one petition after the other.

Hearing sigh after sigh, Lance eventually put an arm around your shoulder. He startled you, but his soft voice made both your shoulders and your guard lower.

“Hey, do you want to make a midnight snack with me? I’m getting kinda hungry.”

“What about that new rule we were talking about? Not eating 4 hours before we went to bed?”

“Every diet has one or two cheat days, don’t they?” he replied, kissing one of your eyelids. “Come on, I’m sure your neck is sore from being like that for so long.”

In the end you both made some soul-food until a food-coma knocked you out until tomorrow. In the morning, you realized that Lance must’ve woken up in the middle of the night because you remember cuddling on the couch, and yet you’re waking up on the bed. Of course, still in his arms.

HUNK:

Having a sensible heart, I feel like both you and hunk would struggle a little about maintaining a healthy distance with current events.

Though overtime he would understand that keeping in touch with everything that’s going on is important, but not at the sake of burning out

His best bet, to him, to pull you out of a such a dark space is with comfort food

“Ok ppl feel like they want to eat a horse but they actually cant when they’re in that mind space Hunk, let’s make something sweet and small; something direct and straight to the point! Let’s add smiley faces on it!”

Your turned down the volume from the news, let your head fall backwards and brought up your forearm over your closed eyes. It felt warm and made it you realize that you had probably been staring very intensely at the screen as a wave of comfort hit your eyes the moment they were drowned in darkness. Letting out a deep breath, you stilled and let yourself bask in your thoughts until a familiar voice brought you back.

“Maybe a little bit more sugar? No, then it would be disbalanced. The base is already so sweet-- Ah, I have to take the cupcakes out or else they might get burned!”

You felt a smile grow on your lips, making you ignore the horrid news being broadcasted to turn to your partner that as usual, seemed to juggle ten thousand things to create a whole meal.

“What’s going on over here?” you asked, leaning over the counter to note that one of your favorite dishes was made and machines that were mostly used for baking had been brought out.

“Oh you know, just a little pick me up for my most favorite person ever.” he shrugged, but a smile soon came to his face. His hands were full but he leaned over, his lips meeting your cheek. “Things outside are a little dark, so I thought we could both use a little something nice.”

He turned on the machine after dropping a drop of dye to make it your favorite color and within a few minutes the icing was finished. Hunk scooped up a small amount on his finger and brought it to his lips and nod.

“Wanna taste?” he asked you, his finger dipping into the icing.

A mischievous grin spread on your features as you took his wrist and let his finger fall on your tongue, the sweetness quickly spreading through your mouth. The yellow paladin shivered as you let his digit hang in your mouth for longer than necessary, letting out a satisfied hum when you returned it to him.

“Tastes perfect.”

PIDGE:

She knew what could be fixed, she knew how to fix it but this meant she was also aware of how long such a transition would take

I think Pidge would be similar to Shiro: whatever she remembers that helps you be at ease, she would defect to that in hopes to maybe distract you for a while.

I don’t think Pidge is a very touchy person either, so if she reaches out to you _physically_ in worry, it’s a very clear sign she’s serious/anxious

I feel like she would reach out in other ways and then if she knew you were in a specific state of mind where touch was not useful, or if she just also wanted to try things out lol

As you watched the twisted information that was being shared on screen, another message caught your attention. Rather than a small red icon in the corner, a small window appeared in the middle of your computer screen.

<I found a way to modify notifications sent to another device.>

The video had stopped, every horrible gif about police brutality was paused and there was nothing else but the small window pidge had thrown onto your screen. You chuckled, and felt a pressure behind your working chair.

Another message popped up.

<You’ve been catching up with twitter for the past two hours. Surely you’re done now?>

A soft laugh came from you, making Pidge release a breath she didn’t know she was holding. You typed out an answer:

<Is it possible to be completely caught up with twitter? I follow like 500 accounts.>

<Okay, but half of them are just cat videos and the other half are just retweets of said videos.>

<Oh here I was thinking that this was an intervention to brighten my mood. We’re dragging each other’s follows now?>

<Oh please like you don’t want to be dragged, with that kind of follow list.>

<I can’t believe you’ve done this.>

You both laughed, before Pidge turned around and tapped your shoulder. She let her hand float in the air, yours coming to join it as a soon as your turned her way.

“Wanna take a nap?” she asked, letting her head fall onto your shoulder. “I had Chip make some hot chocolate, Hunk style.”

You squeezed her hand, putting your computer on sleep mode.

“Yeah, that sounds nice.”

[beauvibaby]

die a happy man — m.tkachuk

a/n: the inspo for this struck out of nowhere and that’s ok bc there’s never too much matty

song: die a happy man – thomas rhett

You hummed along to the song you had stuck in your head as you shifted through your dresses hanging in the closet, Matthew approaching with a smirky smile as he spotted you. “Babe, we’re going to be late.” He reminded you, unable to keep his slight scolding look as you turned to him with wide eyes and a dress in each hand, “black or red?” You asked, the look on your face holding so much concern, reminding him how nervous you were for this event, it wasn’t that you hadn’t met the team before, it was just a lot of pressure with the press and the other significant others.

He looked at the red dress, god he loved you in that dress. But he loved ripping it off of you more.

His eyes drifted to the black dress, and he smiled pointing to it as he thought of how much more in love with you he was every time he saw you in it. “Really? I could’ve sworn you’d pick the other one.” You giggled, easily pulling the black material on and turning to him to zip it up. “Mhm, as much as I love that red one, this one goes better with my suit.” He quipped, earning a whack to his arm. You wrapped your arms around his neck, smiling as he lightly kissed your forehead. “You look amazing, baby.” He assured you, lightly caressing your hips before untangling himself from you. “Thank you.” He smiled down at you when you responded softly, giving his hand a nervous squeeze as he led you out of the apartment

***

“Matthew!” You scolded as he threw you over his shoulder, “Matthew don’t you dare!” You shrieked, pounding your hands on his back as he walked out into his childhood home's front yard, Keith watching in amusement as his son tortured you. “It’s raining!” You shouted as he put you on your feet in the middle of the yard, he glanced at his dad who pushed a button on his phone and disappeared into the house. You furrowed your eyebrows as your favorite song started playing from the front porch. “You said you wanted to dance in the rain.” Matthew shrugged like what he was doing wasn’t anything extravagant, but it was, it was the most thoughtful thing anyone had ever done for you. He grinned as your hair began to stick to your face, your arms wrapping around him as you rested your head on his chest. He pressed his lips to your hairline as he swayed with you in the grass, “baby.” You murmured, looking up at him, he hummed in response, leaning into your hand as you pushed his messy wet curls back.

“I love you so much.” You nearly mouthed, between the softness in your voice and the rain pounding down around you, but he heard you, he always does. “I love you so much.” He pulled you in for a kiss, the both of you jumping as a clap of Thunder rang out. “Can we go inside now?” You asked clutching to him, he laughed at your concern. “One more dance?” He asked with a small pout, “ok, Matty.”

***

“Oh!” You shrieked softly, feeling Matty’s hands come around your waist from behind, “hi bub.” You rested your hand on his cheek as he hooked his chin over your shoulder, “just wanted to say I love you.” He mumbled, lightly kissing your cheek, the music surrounding you both in the bar, it wasn’t overly crowded which was nice, but as he sat at the table with some friends he couldn’t help but feel the need to come give you a kiss. Your friends awed at his actions, smiling as you returned the sentiment, your eyes lingered on him as he walked back to his friends. “He’s been so affectionate lately.” You mumbled, part of you concerned that he was going to have a bomb to drop, and part of you even more in love with the man in front of your eyes. “He just loves you, Y/N. It’s clear as day, maybe he thinks you’re too good for him.” One of your girlfriends offered as a solution, you bit your lip in thought, hoping he didn’t actually think he wasn’t enough for you.

“I don’t know, man. I just feel like I don’t tell her enough.” He muttered to Elias, who smirked sipping on his beer, “I feel ya.” He confirmed, winking over at his girlfriend who was standing near you. “They say whipped is a bad thing, but I don’t think so.” Matthew mumbled, glancing at you again.

“Matty.” You whispered, hugging him tighter as he hoisted you up into his arms bridal style, he had offered to stay sober enough to be functional while you had a chance to unwind from the long week you’d had. “Yeah princess.” He held in a chuckle, thinking you were going to say something witty in your half drunk – half asleep state. “You know I love you right?” You hummed against his skin, “of course I know baby.” He assured you, smiling down at you as you snuggled closer to him.

***

You felt terrible, knowing that Matthew was already sad enough to be leaving you for a week with his friends, but it was a rare opportunity that they could all get away at the same time, and to their favorite golf destinations no less. But of course, the morning of the day he was supposed to leave, you woke up with a burning fever and a throat so scratchy that you were certain it could sand down wood.

You heard him in the living room making some kind of noise as he had left you in bed to make you some tea, you were curled up in one of his hoodies and way to many blankets for this time of year, but despite the temperature on the thermometer, you were shivering. When he came back, with not only your cup of tea, but his suitcase too, you shot up. “Matthew Tkachuk!” You snapped, sending yourself into a coughing fit, he grimaced as he walked over to you. “Before you yell at me–“ “you are going on that trip, don’t you dare say otherwise.” You spoke hoarsely, taking the cup from him, he smiled as you took a sip, letting your eyes flutter closed.

“I’m not going.” He mumbled, snapping you from your daze, instantly the tears sprung to your eyes, “Matty, you can’t miss this trip because of me.” You whimpered, his face softened, “but you’re sick, like really sick, I didn’t want to leave you anyways.” He explained like it would make your guilt disappear, “I don’t want to hold you back.” You huffed, leaning against the headboard carefully with your tea, “hold me back?” He gasped, taking the mug from your hand and placing it on the nightstand. He easily pulled you towards his lap. “You’re not holding me back, Y/N. You never could, you’re my biggest supporter. I want to stay and I want to take care of you, even if it means I get sick too.” He assured you, making sure you absorbed every word, “nothing beats quality time with you, nothing. I promise.” He added, lightly kissing your burning forehead. You nodded weakly, “in that case, can I have some medicine and a nap?” You asked childishly. Matthew nodded, “yeah baby, whatever you want.”

taglist: @boqvistsbabe @tortito @2manytabsopen @heybarzy @barzysreputation @yzas-stuff @iwantahockeyhimbo

[shatterinseconds]

Beach

Julance ‘21 day 8

Lance just needs time to breathe. And he does so on the beach. White sand rests on top of his hands; his feet, only half buried, tingle from the last heat of the setting sun. His hair flutters in the salty breeze, brushing across his forehead.

He’s been on Earth exactly seventy-two hours now, after three years of virtually no contact with his family--just a message or two to them that he isn’t even sure the Garrison ever gave to his family. Lance never once thought of his family as too much or overbearing, and yet he’s been struggling to breathe for the last three days.     

The stares when they think Lance isn’t looking constantly grip onto his anxiety--it’s like they are just waiting for him to disappear again, almost daring him to. His niblings barely remember him. His brother Marco is engaged, the wedding set for sometime next year; yet the last thing Lance remembers is Marco swearing off dating after a few too many bad dates. Lance somehow forgot that even though he was gone, their lives continued on without him. He never realized how difficult it would be to fit back into his own family.

They don’t know him anymore, and he barely knows them.

Keith finds him easily, and he is a welcoming presence at least. Sitting down next to Lance, hand crawling under the sand where he hooks Lance’s pinky with his own, Keith remains silent. His gaze rests on the ocean, the horizon, the setting sun. 

Lance studies his profile. His black hair melds into the encroaching darkness, pieces that didn’t make it into his ponytail curling against his jaw. His nose is a little crooked from when it was broken in a fight about a year ago. They never got it to set properly, but Lance loves running his fingers over it when they lay in bed--no different to Keith always tracing his starburst scar on his back. They always gravitate to the parts of each other that shouldn’t exist but do because of war.

Lance sighs, starting the conversation. “Do they think I disappeared again?”

Finally, Keith’s gaze shifts onto Lance’s face. His dark eyes are soft, glimmering with gold from the sun’s rays. “No, I told them where you were.”

“That’s good,” Lance says calmly, nodding--he doesn’t want his mother gathering the neighbors for a search party or anything.

“I also told them not to go after you.”

Lance’s lips quirk a little at that. Keith went from practically staying in the shadows whenever he was around Lance’s large family to directly confronting them. That’s definitely love right there. “Mamá must have loved that.”

“She understands,” Keith says, now holding Lance’s hand fully. His thumb rubs across Lance’s knuckles, a soothing gesture that actually does work. His mind calms down slightly. “It’s just taking them a while to get used to everything.”

“But you think it’ll get better?” Lance has to ask. Honestly, there have been times throughout this weekend where he almost doubts that things will ever return to normal. Or not normal--nothing will ever be normal again--but become something that doesn’t make him constantly feel on edge all the time. 

“You love them and they love you. That hasn’t changed at all.” Keith says it so confidently and without hesitation that it almost catches Lance off guard. Because that is true.

Tears prickling at the corner of his eyes, Lance genuinely smiles. “Thanks, Keith.” He reaches up to pull Keith into a kiss. He hopes Keith doesn’t care that it’s salty and he also hopes Keith knows they’re more happy than sad tears. 

There was a time when Keith probably couldn’t comfort a paper bag if he tried, but Lance is so glad that’s not the case anymore--hasn’t been for a long time.

“You want to stay out and stargaze?” Keith asks when he draws back. Even in the fading light, Lance can tell that his lips are wet and that’s not just from saliva. 

“Yeah.” Lance eagerly nods, already flopping back onto the sand and dragging Keith with him. “We haven’t seen Earth constellations in a long time.”

They stay out on the beach until darkness engulfs them and the stars illuminate their bodies.

[corvus--rex]

Semi-abandoned soulmate au. I actually started this one before The Sound of Color, although this is vastly different from that one. This particular au also doesn't have the requirement that soulmates are always romantic (ie Pidge and their soulmate). It jumps around a little, and those sections are marked with dividers. Soulmate strangers-to-lovers. . .

~*~*~*~

Soulmarks. Everyone had one. An indelible mark that bound two people together. Age 13 was when it would start. The mark “waking up” as some called it, and reaching out for its companion mark. Most soulmates were within a few years of each other, so the lingering tingle of a mark searching for its mate usually didn’t last long.

Lance was lucky that way. His mark sprang to life on his thirteenth birthday and quieted three months later. There was no way to know who or where his soulmate was at that point, but he knew they were three months younger than him. He had been getting ready for school that day when the constant tingle in his mark faded.

He’d always liked the quarter note-shaped mark on the inside of his left wrist. What confused him were the numbers that circled it. No two marks were the same, and Lance knew that his soulmate would have something different. But those numbers confused him. 1030211933. Trying to figure it out was a favorite pastime throughout middle and high school, but he never could get there. He hadn’t met his soulmate yet, but he hoped that it would make sense when he did.

Once two marks found each other, the secondary connection opened. The marks on the soul allowed for marks on the body. Words, doodles, full-blown artwork. Drawing or writing on skin would appear on a connected soulmate. Once Lance’s mark had connected, the first thing he did was ask his soulmate about the numbers. They didn’t know either. But he did find out that his soulmate’s mark sat on their right hip, it was a feather, and they didn’t have those numbers but they did have a series of roman numerals along the feather’s shaft that read:

X X X X X X I X I X X X X I I I

They continued to talk for years, learning about each other. They had decided not to share identifying information like names or location, but Lance knew that his soulmate had a twin and that their parents had adopted their cousin when their cousin’s parents died in an accident. They didn’t know anything about the accident because they’d been too young at the time and no one had explained it since. Lance told them that he had three siblings, that he was a twin, too, and that his older sister connected with her soulmate the same day he had.

He lay in his bed in the dorm he shared with his best friend Hunk, rereading the last message his soulmate had sent him about how college sucked and how they already had an in-class performance a month into the semester. He’d responded with a note about how trying to balance classes with rehearsals as the lead in his school’s fall musical was kicking his ass. Lance already knew that his soulmate was studying music at a college close to where they grew up. And they knew that he was majoring in theatre at a college a three-hour drive from home.

Hunk trudged into their dorm room and threw himself onto his bed. “Remind me again why I decided this was a good idea?” he groaned.

“Which part?” Lance asked in return.

“The part where I decided to be a pastry chef and subject myself to the hell that is the one professor I can’t get away from?”

“Because you love baking and always have and one asshole can’t make you hate doing what you love.”

“I swear she just likes to terrorize us. There’s that guy I told you about – Sal, the one I had a class with freshman year and he transferred to general culinary and now he’s back – she hates him. And I don’t know why. But then, she hates me, too. Pretty sure it’s that bun. It’s so tight she doesn’t need a face lift. But I’m also convinced that Chef Dayak is just evil.”

“Hey, at least you have Shay there with you. Not everyone gets to have their soulmate in class with them all day,” Lance pointed out.

“How’s it with yours?” Hunk asked.

“We’re working our way up to talking about meeting. I know I wanted to wait until after graduation, but I’m getting impatient, y’know? It’s been eight years and I don’t want to wait anymore. But I get that they do. So…yeah. Anyway,” he said, shaking himself out of that particular spiral, “You going to the Halloween party this year?”

“Dude! It’s a month away!”

Lance sat up, turning to his best friend, one eyebrow arched. “Seriously? You say this like there’s such a thing as too early. And no, it’s only three weeks. We need to start now.”

Hunk groaned again, this time in only partial exasperation, and sat up. “Fine. The fuck are you planning this year?”

Lance just laughed. Hunk threw a pillow at him, collapsing in his own fit of giggling when a startled Lance took the pillow directly to the face. Lance’s alarm sounded, loud and annoying. He groaned, throwing Hunk’s pillow back, and fumbled for his phone to turn the blaring sound off.

“Fuck me. I have to get to rehearsal.”

In an apartment just off campus, Keith stopped playing and pulled the pencil out of his hair, making yet another correction to his scribbled sheet music. He started over, again, ignoring the key in the door and his roommate coming back in. He ignored their slight form dropping their overpacked backpack on the floor and throwing themselves onto the other end of the couch with their laptop and notebook. Keith was too focused on his music to pay much attention to Pidge.

Except that Pidge wanted his attention right then. “Hey. Asshole,” they said, throwing a ball of notebook paper at him.

“Yes, hellspawn?” he asked casually, setting his guitar on its stand by the couch, “What the fuck do you want?”

“I’m on the committee for the party. You’re coming,” they said while typing away on their laptop.

“No. I’m not. I don’t go to parties, and you know it. Why the fuck are you so determined for me to go?”

Pidge looked up, fixing him with their stare. “Because I said so. And because Matt’s going to be there. His girlfriend’s going too. You actually like Neve. So you’re going.”

“Including you, that’s three people I’d be willing to talk to. Why should I bother?” he stopped, a dreaded thought sparking as to why they were so hellbent on his going to the party. “It’s because it’s a week after my birthday, isn’t it?”

“What? You mean that thing you ignore every year except for the proliferation of doodles from your soulmate? Why would that have anything to do with it?”

“I'm still not going,” Keith insisted.

“We’ll see about that,” Pidge answered cryptically. They went back to their laptop, typing furiously. They stayed that way, ignoring Keith’s death glare until he gave up and went back to his music.

Eventually, Keith decided that the music portion of his brain was fried and gave up for the night. Pidge was buried in their laptop, writing a paper for their robotics class at top speed. Ignoring them for the moment, Keith opened his own laptop, going back to the English assignment he still hadn’t finished. It was due by the next class, which was two days away, but he’d been putting it off for longer than that. He typed lazily at it for a while before a horrible thought hit him and he realized that his previous assessment had been wrong. He glared up at Pidge over his screen.

“She’s going, isn’t she?” he asked.

“Who?” Pidge asked back, pretending they didn’t know what he meant.

“You know who.”

“If you’re referring to your sister, then yes, she is.”

Keith sighed. “Just because she knows who her soulmate is now, that doesn’t mean that you’re right. Mine could be literally anyone.”

Pidge closed their laptop. “And you’re in denial. I can not believe that your twin sister happens to have a soulmate who has a younger brother who is also a twin and his soulmate has a twin. The odds of that happening are so small as to be inconceivable! Not to mention the part where Acxa’s soulmate and her brother both connected with theirs on the same day.”

“Ok, I’ll give you that it’s weird. But you don’t know anything about Acxa’s soulmate’s siblings, and neither does she. And not everyone’s met theirs yet. You haven’t! All you know is their handle on Steam!”

“So? I also know that Beezer’s on the other side of the country. I know that we won’t get to meet in person until after graduation. All I'm saying is that this is a little too weird to be a coincidence.”

“And I’m not going to let you harass my sister’s soulmate about her siblings on the day they’re meeting face to face for the first time. Leave it alone, Pidge.”

“Fine,” they said, going back to their paper.

Keith knew full well that Pidge would not leave it alone, but there was only so much he could do to stop them.

A few days later, Lance dragged his twin sister, Hunk, and Shay to the nearest Halloween pop-up costume store. None of them had found anything they liked, and Lance was getting bored. Shay had wandered off to the decoration part of the store, and Hunk was making sure the twins didn’t get into trouble. But Hunk had gotten briefly distracted and lost them.

“Jules no.” Ah, there was Lance.

“Jules yes.” And his sister.

“Are you two still arguing?” Hunk asked as he approached the twins.

“Hunk,” Lance said, putting his hands on Hunk’s shoulders, “She wants us to be the Wonder Twins again. I absolutely refuse. We did that once when we were like nine.” He felt something hit his back and whipped around to find his sister holding a Wonder Twins costume. “Ana Julieta Alameda-McClain, get that fucking thing away from me.”

“Oh, fine. You’re no fun,” Jules pouted. She put it back, then turned around, spotting something else. “Ooh! Quicksilver and Scarlet Witch?”

“What the fuck – no! I’m never going Halloween shopping with you again. You’re on your own,” Lance said, wandering off and taking Hunk with him.

Hunk was laughing. “Why do you keep letting her do this, dude?”

“I don’t know. Anyway, I say we go over to The Costume Company. I think I’m done with mass-produced crap.”

“Sounds like a plan. I’ll go find Shay and meet up with you two at the car,” Hunk agreed, heading in the direction he’d last seen Shay.

Lance reluctantly went back to his sister. “We’re going to The Costume Company,” he said without getting her attention.

“Hm? Ok,” Jules answered, not paying attention to her twin.

“Bye, then.” He started to leave without her, getting halfway down the aisle of the Halloween pop-up before she realized what he’d said.

“Lance! Get back here, you ass!” she yelled after him.

He ignored her as payback for her insistence on twin costumes and kept going. She chased him all the way to his car, where Hunk and Shay were already waiting. Lance finally lost his composure, cracking up when he reached his waiting friends.

“Leandro. Alejandro. Alameda. McClain. I am going to kill you,” Jules growled while out of breath from chasing him.

“No you won’t,” he said, “Mamá would kill you in return.”

Shay saw her opportunity and took it. “Shotgun!” she announced, hopping into the passenger seat.

“Shay, I love you,” Hunk said, getting in behind Lance, effectively separating the twins.

~*~*~*~*~*~

“Acxa, just promise me you won’t give in to Pidge. They’re being totally insufferable with this,” Keith said. He lay on his bed, earbuds connected to the call he was on with his twin.

“You know me better than that. Gremlin won’t get shit out of me. And she’s not getting anywhere near V at the party."

~*~*~*~

Links to the rest of the series:

1 | 2 | 3* | 4 | 5* | 6* | 7 | 8 | 9* | 10 | 11 | 12* | 13 | 14 | 15* | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19*

[skullrock]

the confessions - Steve x Reader

gif by @harringtown

pairing: Steve x Reader

request: hey! can u write a fic where steve and reader go to a party and reader gets shitfaced but steve stays sober and she’s pretty much hitting on him the entire night cause the alcohol gave her courage, and when steve takes her home she’s like super handsy with him and saying sweet things to him (also saying suggestive themes things to him that makes him go 😳) and steve’s super sad cause he loves her and thinks it’s drunk talk. but its not!! so they talk about it the next day. thank you

warnings: swearin’ and angst! some suggestive content if ya squint

word count: 2k

===

Steve watched as you downed shot after shot, regret running through him with each glass of vodka. He brought you here to have fun - he didn’t anticipate having to babysit you. He knew you were stressed, but he didn’t know you were this stressed. As he watched you head for the punch bowl again, he went to intervene.

“Hey!” you sing, happy to see him. You throw your arms around his neck and pull him in for an awkward hug. “What’s up, buddy!”

“I think you need to go home,” he says, pulling away from you gently. His stomach flipped every time you touched him, but he wanted to swallow those feelings. You were his friend, after all. Nothing more and nothing less.

“Me?” you ask, pointing to yourself. “You think… I think you need to go home!”

“Okay,” he says smoothly. “Let’s go home together, what about that?”

You gasp and throw a hand up to your heart. “Why, Mister Harrington, are you inviting me to your house?”

Steve’s cheeks turn red, but he attempts to act unfazed. “No, I’m taking you to your house, okay?” He gently takes your cup from you and puts his arm around your waist to support you as he took you to his car.

The thing is, you had drank so much because you wanted to hit on him. You needed that extra courage to get you to actually make a move. Did you overdo it? Yes. Did the alcohol work? Also yes. Maybe it worked a little too well.

When you step outside, you pull Steve into you, pressing into his chest. “You look so good tonight, Stevie, you know that?”

Steve’s ears turn pink. “Since when do you call me that?” he asks, gently pushing you away from him.

“Do you like it?” you ask. “It’s cute, like you.”

“Okay,” Steve says, clearing his throat. “Um, thanks.”

“Do I look cute?” you ask, leaning on him heavily as he continues to guide you to his car.

“You always look cute.”

You gasp. “You mean it?”

Steve’s heart twists painfully. “Of course I mean it.”

As he sits you in the passenger seat and leans over to buckle you up, you wrap your fingers in his hair. Steve’s cheeks turn red-hot and he pulls back, a moan escaping his lips as your fingers tug in his hair. He takes your hands and takes a deep breath. “What’s gotten into you?”

“Vodka,” you smile, and Steve rolls his eyes.

“Keep your hands to yourself during the ride, okay?” he jokes, and you pout.

“But what if I don’t want to keep them to myself?”

“Those are the rules of the ride,” Steve says, clicking his tongue sympathetically. “You have to follow them.”

“You’re such a dork,” you say, reaching out for him again, but he moves before your fingertips can touch him.

Steve shuts the door and shakes his head, mumbling, “Jesus Christ,” before climbing into the front seat. “You okay, Y/N?”

You nod and look over at him, sending a wink that sent a chill down his spine. Focus, Steve, he thinks to himself, white-knuckling the steering wheel as he starts for your house. Steve turns on the radio - Can’t Fight this Feeling comes on. The tension in the car while the song is playing can be cut with a knife. You sit and play with your skirt, slowly moving it up your thighs in an attempt to entice Steve. Steve sees in his peripheral, but keeps his eyes on the road in an attempt to not crash the car in a fit of passion.

Steve gets pulled into his own thoughts as he drives. He’s loved you for a while now - totally, completely loved you. Every day brought more adoration, and it was getting to be a bit painful. You’d never let on any signs that you were into him until tonight. The whole thing was confusing and heartbreaking. You probably thought he was someone else. Someone cooler, more charming, more handsome. You could never say this stuff to him sober, which solidified his theory that you weren’t into him at all.

He pulls into your driveway and climbs out, sighing as he heads over to your side. When he tries to help you out, you offer him your foot first.

“Wrong end,” he says.

“Oops!” You hand him your hand and he pulls you up, steadying you as you stumble into his chest again. You look up at him with big eyes. To you, they’re full of love; to him, they’re full of shit.

“How do we keep ending up like this?” you slur.

“Because you’re drunk,” Steve breathes, forcing himself not to lean down and kiss you.

“Maybe you’re drunk.”

“I’m not drunk, Y/N.”

“Oh.”

Steve laughs a bit and keeps guiding you to your door and into your bedroom. He sits you on your bed and starts going through your wardrobe to find you some pajamas. When he turns around, you’re up and naked, making Steve drop the clothes and cover his eyes.

“Uh - hey - what are you doing?”

“Changing,” you respond, walking over to where he dropped the clothes. You pick them up and start putting them on, allowing Steve to relax.

“Don’t be such a prude, Steve,” you say, shrugging on your sweater. “It’s not like you’ve never seen a naked girl before.”

“But you’re my friend,” Steve says. “That’s not the same.”

“What if I don’t want to be friends?”

Steve’s hand drops to his side, revealing a fully clothed you. Your eyes look serious, and you look shy. Steve’s brows furrow. “You know who I am, right?”

“I know who you are, Steve.”

Steve’s stuck. He’s not sure if you’re just shitting him or if you’re serious. It’s hard to tell when you’re slurring and hunched over like Quasimodo, hardly able to walk. He bites his lip and your eyes train on how perfect he is, how beautiful he looks as the moon comes through your window. He takes a step towards you, and you think that maybe he’s going to embrace you like the lovers do in movies. But instead, he guides you to the bed, tucking you under the covers.

“I’m going to get you some water and pain pills, okay?” he says. “You’re going to have a hell of a hangover tomorrow.” You’re probably going to forget all of this, too, he thinks.

You nod and he gets water and medicine from your kitchen, bringing it back to you quietly. He sits it on the nightstand. “Can I get you anything else?”

“Come here,” you beckon, sitting up out of the carefully tucked sheets. Steve blinks as you undo his gentle tucking, but he sits down beside you. You grab his hand and look at it carefully, closely. Then you grab the other one.

“You reading my fortune, or something?” Steve jokes, a tinge of sadness in his voice.

“You have nice hands,” you mumble. You look up at his face and run a hand gently down one of his cheeks. “You have a pretty face, too.”

Steve decides to indulge himself, just a bit. “What else do I have?”

“You have nice arms,” you continue, running your hands up them, feeling Steve’s flesh become riddled with goosebumps. “So strong and toned.” You move your hands to his chest. “Nice broad chest. Nice shoulders.”

Steve shifts nervously, swallowing hard as your hands ghost down his shirt, going dangerously close to his belt. Your hands take a detour to his sides, though, gripping his hips gently. “Such nice hips, too.”

“Hips?” he laughs. “Is that something girls look for?”

“They just fit you so perfectly,” you say quietly. Your hands then move to his thighs and you lick your lips. “Your thighs are nice too, Steve.” You squeeze them and smile. “So is your ass.”

Steve blushes but rolls his eyes. “My ass is not nice.”

You shrug, bringing your hands up to his shoulders to rest. “I like it.”

He swallows again. “Do you like anything else?”

“I like your laugh. It’s always so pretty,” you whisper. “It makes me happy. So does your smile. And your eyes are always so warm, even when you’re mad.”

Steve realizes how closely you both are leaning in, so he pulls back slightly. “You’re full of compliments when you’re drunk, huh?”

You frown, letting your hands fall into your lap. “Guess I am.”

Steve clears his throat. “I guess - while we’re on the subject - I should tell you that I think you’re very pretty.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” he says with a slight shrug. “Prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”

“Prettier than Nancy?”

Steve feels the sadness envelop him, crashing over him like a wave. To be sitting in front of a person so beautiful while being reminded of his shit luck - it’s a lot to handle. But he forces out, “Prettier than Nancy.”

You seem pleased, laying down again and beckoning him to cover you. Steve’s throat feels wickedly painful, and he pushes his tongue to the roof of his mouth to stop himself from crying. He ruffles your hair and whispers, “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Won’t you stay?”

Steve laughs a bit. “I have work in the morning.”

“With Keith?”

“Yeah, with Keith.”

“Gross.”

“Yeah, pretty gross,” he agrees. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay?”

“Tomorrow,” you repeat, and you fall asleep soon after, leaving Steve with his thoughts as he heads to his car.

===

Tomorrow comes, and you’re painfully aware of how much you had to drink last night. You groan and sit up to find the painkillers and water Steve had left.

“Oh, thank God,” you whisper, taking them swiftly and laying back down. You hug one of your pillows and attempt to go back to sleep before last night comes back to you at lightning speed. How much you drank so that you’d have the courage to talk to him; how you put your hands in his hair; how you kept touching him; how you undressed right in front of him; and then everything you said. Embarrassment grips you tightly, making you groan and bury your head in your pillow. You hop up quickly, though, staggering to the phone and phonebook.

===

Steve stops stacking tapes to get the phone, droning out, “Thanks for calling Family Video, this is Steve, how can I help you?”

“Steve!”

Steve gasps and almost drops the phone. “Y/N?” he hisses. “What - are you okay?”

“I gotta talk to you about last night,” you say. “Can we talk?”

Steve looks around for Keith. “I’m - I’m at work.”

“I have to tell you something and it can’t wait.”

Steve looks around again and sighs, taking the phone with him into the break room and shutting the door on the cable. “Okay, what’s up?”

“Last night, I got super shitfaced.”

“I’m aware.”

“Well, I got so drunk because I wanted to talk to you - like, tell you how I feel -”

Steve’s breath hitches and his heart speeds up. “About what?”

You take a deep breath. It’s now or never. “Steve, I love you.”

Steve almost drops the phone again.

“Bullshit,” he breathes. “You can’t -”

“I do, Steve,” you say. “I love you, and I know I do.”

There’s a quick, loud knock on the door. “Uh, what’s going on in there?”

Steve jerks the door open, holding the phone tightly to his chest. “Keith, I swear to Christ, if you ruin this moment for me, I’m going to shove a VHS right up your -”

“Steve!” you gasp on the phone.

Steve slams the door shut again and puts the phone up to his ear. “You’re not gonna believe this, but I love you, too.”

You beam brightly. “You mean it?”

“I never thought you’d say that to me,” Steve says softly. “But I’ve loved you for so long.”

“I’ve loved you for a long time, too.”

Steve smiles brightly, feeling like a new man as happiness replaces the sadness and emptiness in his chest.

Keith knocks on the door again. “Harrington, you better get out here -”

“Shut up, Keith!” Steve shouts. “I guess I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

“Come over after work, will you?”

“I will,” Steve promises. “God, I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

===

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[hauntedcastles-blog]

Klance Headcanon: Lance but w/ naturally curly hair :)

Okay okay so hear me out. Keith and Lance go out on a mission looking for some weird ass plant that Pidge really wants to look into cuz it's said to contain some magical properties of some sorts. So the two go to this new planet and on said planet, Lance decides to start picking on Keith...because what else is he gonna do when he's stuck on a planet alone with Keith? He pokes him and teases his mullet as usual...

"Hey Keith, your mullet is looking extra mullety today."

Keith is starting to get real sick of his shit and all he wants to do is carry on with the mission but Lance is just...so frikin' distracting...in more than one way wink wink ;) but anyways, he really just wants him to shut the hell up. Keith starts smiling all smug when they start walking next to a lake and Lance is completely oblivious to it so he continues blabbering on about Keith's mullet.

Keith waits for the right moment and then just completely LUNGES Lance into the water. Lance is fucking panicking and screaming because the water is like negative degrees celsius and Keith is just standing there laughing his ass off.

"What the hell man??!" Lance says spitting out water from his mouth and climbing out.

His armour and under suit are completely drenched and Keith kind of feels bad but he doesn't regret it one bit.

"That's what you get for talking shit about my mullet."

Lance is brooding and complaining the entire time about how he's freezing and IT'S ALL KEITH'S FAULT. And now Keith wishes he hadn't done it because listening to Lance whine is way worse. Lance's hair starts the air dry a bit and soft, brown curls start to become more defined. Keith hadn't really taken it in until they finally decided to stop mid way to camp out.

"Woah..." Keith stared at Lance like he was from outer space...I mean...does that line even work in this context?

Lance had no clue why the fuck Keith was staring at him like he was the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. "Can I help you?"

"It's just..."

"it's just what?"

"Your hair."

"What about my hair?"

"It's... CURLY?!" Keith started to kneel closer to Lance and was about to reach over and touch his hair until he realized that's probably stepping out of his bounds.

"Oh! Right yeah, I guess there's no point in hiding it now. My hair's naturally curly but I've kinda been straightening it this entire time." Lance looked away a little embarassed.

"What?!"

"I know I know...it looks really bad but I don't exactly have a straightener lying around in my paladin suit." Lance joked.

"What are you talking about?" Keith was worried that what he was about to say next would be taken the wrong way but fuck it. This beautiful paladin needs to hear a compliment for once in his life. "It actually...it looks really good on you." Keith stared at the ground, nervously biting his lips and waiting for Lance to laugh in his face.

Lance scoffed, "There's no way you just admitted that. You're lying. Is this you're way of trying to get me to stop picking on your mullet? Cuz it's not gonna work."

Keith gritted his teeth together. It's hard enough for him to open up about his feelings and now Lance is doubting them. "I'm serious! Why do you straighten it?"

Lance rubbed the back of his neck. "I dunno...I guess I was always teased when I was little for my hair so I started straightening it. Helps me fit in, and now it's just a habit. Just like brushing my teeth every morning."

"Whoever teased you about your hair should be cursed with baldness." Keith smiled and finally looked at Lance in the eyes, taking in all the little things that make Lance so beautiful. His soft freckles (barely visible but there if you look close enough), his long eyelashes, and smooth lips.

Lance was laughing, but it wasn't to mock Keith or make him feel dumb. He just really wasn't expecting Keith to make a joke. After there was a long silence. It wasn't awkward, just calm and quiet. Then Lance finally spoke up. "Hey, I know you probably won't believe me after how much I tease you about it but, I actually think your mullet looks really cool. It suits you."

"Are you just saying this because I complimented your hair and you wanna pay back the favour?"

Lance laughed. "No, I swear. I've always thought you looked really badass with the long hair and everything. I guess I was just too stubborn to admit it."

Keith's cheeks started to heat up. Lance thought he looked cool. "Thanks." He smiled and started staring at the ground again. The dirt is just so interesting.

"So...wanna touch it?" Lance wiggled his brows.

"Um what?" Keith started gay panicking.

"C'monnnn, I know you wanna touch my hair. Feel how soft my luscious locks are." He put his hand over his head like a damsel in distress.

Keith wasn't gonna say no to an opportunity like this. He leaned over again and gently ran his fingers through Lance's hair, being careful not to ruin the curls.

"It's so soft!"

"Mhmmm." Lance smirked.

Keith kept running his fingers through his hair, it felt like clouds.

Lance started to feel really sleepy. Having someone touch your hair like this really makes you feel a certain way. He started yawning and stretching out his arms. "I'm just gonna—yawn—lay down over here for a minute." Lance placed his head in Keith's lap and knocked out. "Lance! What the—" Keith stared at the boy, a soft blush creeping up into his cheeks. He sighed and looked away. "Sweet dreams."

The end. :)

So like I dunno how this ended up becoming a whole fanfic. It was supposed to be a short little text post but then this happened. Oops! But anyways, this was really fun!

Side note, I just realized it actually makes sense if Lance got bullied for his hair in the past because of how he projects his insecurities onto Keith. But anyways, hope you enjoyed reading this!