#posted last week but it's so hard for me to get on here

[urfavlarry]

—You’re the kind of person they write rock songs about

—modern!au Viktor x fem!reader warning. swearing, not proof read, might be OOC

part two || part three || part four

A/N. sorry if this is short I promise the next chapter will be longer D:

‘You eye each other as you pass

She looks back and you look back

Not just once, not just twice’

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vik.tor222 posts followers following

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Vik

Piltover Uni || Physics & Engineering

2027 🎓

tagged: truly.y/n, powpow, ekk0stime and 4 others

liked by ekk0stime, ishaaq, j.talis and 32 others

posted 2 weeks ago

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You found yourself scrolling through Viktor’s account, your finger idly swiping through his highlights and posts. Each photo and story offered a glimpse into his world—museum trips, late-night coffee breaks, and snapshots of the people he cared about, though he never really appeared in any of them. He also had a highlight containing pictures of him but most were faceless and only ever showed off his outfit of the day. The newest post however caught your eye: a picture of you and your band from the night you all first officially hung out and the Last Drop. It was more of an unexpected and last minute get together but it sure was worth spending that time with them. The memory tugged at you, bringing a flicker of joy as you remembered the warmth and laughter of that evening.

But the smile on your face quickly faded as reality set in. There was a reason you were staring at his account, hovering over his name like some indecisive idiot. Right, texting him. You sighed, locking your phone and staring blankly at the ceiling, trying to muster up the courage to type something that wouldn’t make you sound ridiculous. Why was this so hard? It wasn’t like you hadn’t talked to him before.

This was about to be the fifth time that week you’d tried to coax information out of him, and it was starting to make you feel like a desperate ex who couldn’t take a hint. But the utter curiosity had completely taken over, refusing to let you rest until you got some answers.

You groaned, running a hand through your hair. Fuck it. If Viktor wanted to keep things cryptic, fine—but you weren’t about to sit here driving yourself insane over it. Picking up your phone again, you opened your messages, quickly typing out a message before you had the chance to overthink it and chicken out.

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[truly.y/n] Vikkk >:((

[truly.y/n] where do we even meet up? band is asking soo many questions and I need answers

[truly.y/n] can you PLEASE tell me where we’re going? what place could possibly need all of our equipment? did you do something?

[vik.tor222] 6pm outside the school dormitories, i’ll pay for the taxi

[truly.y/n] unless you know a taxi driver with a van then we’ll be going by Ekko’s van. we need to move Isha’s drums, the speakers and all that shit

[vik.tor222] okay then the meeting spot is the same, want me to drive?

[truly.y/n] idc, if you wanna :P

[vik.tor222] alright then, see you in 2 days :)

[truly.y/n] whatever mr. mysterious, cya

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Two days passed in the blink of an eye, your bandmates just as clueless as you however Ekko was the most excited out of everyone who just stood there, waiting for you and Powder to load up the van. “Why can’t he just tell us?” Isha signed, eyeing Viktor who was patiently waiting near the drivers side of the van, occasionally tapping his cane and looking towards the slightly frightened looking band which only amused him.

“Whatever it is, we’re ready,” he said, tuning his bass with a big grin. “Mystery gigs are kind of cool, y’know?” “Cool until we walk into a disaster,” Isha signed, twirling her drumsticks in the air before stepping into the van so you could all be on your way

“Alright, let’s get going.” Ekko exclaimed enthusiastically, while you and Powder cheered— yours being more sarcastic than excited but you played along with their enthusiasm.

The drive wasn’t long, but the anticipation made every minute feel like hours. Powder kept trying to guess where you were going however you gave up a long time ago. “Okay, hear me out,” she said, leaning forward from the back seat. “It’s gotta be a secret underground gig. Like, a place that only the coolest people know about. Right?” “Or,” Ekko added, “maybe it’s some rich dude’s private party. Like, we’re about to play for some billionaires who want to vibe out to live music.” “God, I hope not,” Isha signed from her corner, pulling off one headphone.

Viktor chuckled softly, his focus still on the road. “You’re all very creative. Perhaps I should’ve hired you as consultants.”

“Don’t dodge the question!” Powder groaned, throwing a crumpled receipt at him from months ago. He ignored her antics, his smirk unwavering as the van slowly came to a stop. You blinked in disbelief, staring out the windshield at the familiar neon sign glowing softly in the early evening light. “No way,” you murmured, your heart skipping a beat.

Ekko leaned forward, squinting. “Wait... isn’t this that café? The vintage one you’ve been obsessed with?” “The one one you have been dying to play at?” Powder added, her voice rising with excitement. “The very one,” Viktor confirmed, stepping out of the van and gesturing for everyone to follow. His cane tapped rhythmically against the pavement as he led the way to the entrance.

You hesitated, your stomach twisting in equal parts of excitement and panic. “Viktor, what are we doing here?” He paused at the door, turning to look at you with a calm, knowing smile. “You said it was your dream to play here. I’d like to think the most ‘impossible’ dreams are the ones most possible, aren’t they rockstar?” Your mouth opened, but no words came out. Powder gave you a nudge from behind, practically bouncing with excitement. “Come on! Let’s go!” The group piled into the café, and the cozy, familiar ambiance hit you immediately—it was exactly as you’d imagined it when you first stepped in weeks ago.

A staff member came up to you as soon as you entered, his sharp jaw and carefully ironed dress shirt was enough to make you feel small. His intimidating aura shifted however once he began to speak; “Right on time! Do whatever you need to do and we’ll be ready when you are.” He said with a smile before giving you a quick nod and turned to leave.

Powder let out an excited squeal, grabbing your arm and shaking it. “Vik I can’t believe you booked us here!” “I merely opened the door,” Viktor said, his smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “It’s up to you to walk through it.”

Ekko was already setting his gear down, grinning from ear to ear. “Yo, this is insane. We’re actually playing here.” Isha looked quite stunned as well, looking around with wide eyes as she shakily set up her drums. You’ve played at cafe’s before and had a few successful shows but this.. this was different. It was a famous place, one with people who’d gladly give you job offers like playing at their bar, or more of a moving job where’d they’d reach out to people and find you gigs with the snap of their fingers. This was a real opportunity.

Viktor was staring at you and the band from a booth, having a view better than anyone else as he had a proud smile on his face. He felt your excitement, the absolute joy that radiated from your body which was amusing to the normal eye however he knew what it truly meant to you. He’s properly known you for a little over two weeks but it felt like he’s known you forever. Viktor found himself silently rooting for you in a way that surprised him. He glanced at the growing crowd, noting their curiosity, some patrons leaned forward in anticipation, while others sipped their drinks casually, oblivious to the significance of what was about to unfold.

Your setlist was a mix of two original songs and covers from legends like Queen’s Seven Seas of Rhye, Deftones’ Sextape, Iron Maiden, Mötley Crüe and Metallica.

From the first chords of Seven Seas of Rhye, the café buzzed with energy. “Hell yeah!” Ekko exclaimed, sending you all a proud smirk as he strummed the chords of every single song perfectly. “Everyone feeling alright?” Powder yelled into the mic, an uproar of cheers sending bolts of energy into you. “That’s what I wanna fucking hear! Let’s keep this energy going!” When you hit the haunting melody of Sextape, the crowd seemed transfixed, and you felt Viktor’s eyes on you, his expression focused and unreadable.

You kept locking eyes with him throughout the show, a flutter of butterflies stirring in your stomach each time you caught the way his gaze softened with what almost looked like adoration. Every time you tried to force yourself to look elsewhere, embarrassed by how often your eyes found his, you failed. It was as if some invisible magnet pulled your gaze towards his, neither of you able to look away.

By the end of the set, as the final note hung in the air, your eyes found his one last time. He gave a small nod, a faint but genuine smile tugging at the corner of his lips. And for reasons you couldn’t fully explain, that single gesture felt like the loudest applause of the night.

taglist: @skullmvncher @startingtoloveyou @astarionapologist

© URFAVLARRY

DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE OR COPY ANY OF MY WRITING TO OTHER PLATFORMS

I DON’T CONSENT FOR MY WRITING TO BE USED TO TRAIN AI 🚫

[not-poignant]

Stupid question, but I remembered seeing you mention having monthly minimum wordcounts on one of your previous posts and I wanted to ask if you're a professional writer? Because at first I was like "that sounds so stressful"* and then I realized that it makes a lot more sense if you're doing it for a living.

*Also acknowledging that people are different from each other and what is stressful for one person might be productive and useful for another.

I am a professional writer!

My original serials are my job, basically, and they're supported by generous folks at Patreon and Ream. That, in turn, allows me to do this in a more professional and focused way, vs. say just as a hobbyist who doesn't update for 9 months at a time. It also lets me share my works for free, in a fandom friendly manner, which lets me keep doing something I love in a way I love to do it, but in a way which is like...I guess more reliable than you'd necessarily be if you were only doing it for fun.

I can instead pledge high fidelity/loyalty to my main serials through thick and thin (hence my wild author's notes), which means folks following WIPs get to know they'll be finished, and I get to enjoy doing this for a living! It's hard, but it's a good hard. Except for taxes.

As for my monthly minimum, that actually started as a way to break out of the very ableist 'you should write every day' (as a professional writer) which is literally impossible for me and my chronic illnesses. I sometimes have big chunks of time where I can't write, sometimes weeks! And where it would be unhealthy for me to make myself.

(More about my writing process beneath the Read More!)

Alongside that, I have quite severe dyscalculia (think dyslexia but with numbers and directions and left and right lol) so I can't keep a 'running wordcount' because the numbers confuse me too much. Luckily, because my writing life is defined by chapters completed (and not novels), I count the wordcount of every finished chapter only. Unfinished chapters don't count! My growing wordcount per month grows only when that draft is finished (my drafts are clean, so chapters only tend to grow or shrink by about 100-150 words per edit, so give or take it all evens out).

It's not how any other author I know does it, but it works so well for me that I've been doing it for nearly a decade now.

I started the monthly minimum (which currently is 25k words per month) because I tend towards being a workaholic, and so my therapist and I established a minimum not as an unreachable goal that's hard to meet, but as an easy goal that's generally effortless for me to reach in good months, and average months, and even many bad ones. After I hit 25k words per month, if I crash, feel burnt out, feel awful, or life gets Life-y in a bad way, I have permission to stop writing. I can just stop. Everything else is gravy. (Though secretly I always want to hit 30-35k but shhh).

When I hit 50k words, I also have to stop immediately and take a mandatory 3-5 day break from writing even if I want to keep writing. Because I don't know it yet, but I'm probably exhausted on at least some level, lol.

I didn't hit 50k at all last year and there is at least one therapist who would be really proud of me about that even though I feel kind of guilty about it, lol.

Here's an example of my tracking:

You can see the chapters I've written, which dates I've written them. They're colour coded, so I can see at a glance if I'm writing enough of a story or not. And then on the far right is an addition of every month's wordcount.

April was so low because I took an intentional writing holiday (which I'll be doing again ideally in March this year). December was so low because December sucks.

And then I erase it all at the end of the year and start again. The blank whiteboard is actually very motivating to write that first chapter because I always feel like I haven't done anything until then.

This whiteboard is two feet away from where I write quite literally, and is never moved etc. so I have a yearly tracker basically that's extremely visible (super helpful to my ADHD brain, because if I put this in a spreadsheet I'll stop updating it after 3 weeks and then forget it exists). The colour coding gives me dopamine, so does adding chapters.

Also acknowledging that people are different from each other and what is stressful for one person might be productive and useful for another.

This is true! This is actually the least stressful way of doing things for me.

That being said, anon, it's still super stressful. Being a serial writer is one of the most stressful things you do, because you have constant and never-ending deadlines for years. Novelists can kind of escape this, in a way, because they can't release novels as often as I release chapters. But I have to be mentally switched on at least 8 times a month, re: putting work out there, making sure it's at least semi-polished, making sure I let everyone know, and tracking responses because obviously, unlike a novel, if you lose interest you can't just "skip ahead" you simply lose your readers. A lot of novelists couldn't live or work this way, a) because they couldn't write a hooky serial and b) because many realise that having to update all the time is really exhausting actually. There's a kind of social labour to updating a serial, and getting it Right every single time. One of my greatest fears that I have nightmares about

Serial writing is the most stressful kind of writing I've ever done (and I've done a few different kinds), I just happen to like the adrenaline rush of this kind of writing, and I happen to work well under a controlled level of stress! I know that, because I've been doing this for over 10 years, refining it, figuring out how to make it healthier (it was really unhealthy at first), getting better at it, figuring out my weak points (some of them are still weak points) etc. I actually think I'm pretty good at it now!

I'm also getting better at not thinking my entire career is over if I take 2 weeks off.

I went from being entirely dependent on a Disability Pension, and like, sometimes having to skip meals and doctor's appointments and even medication due to money issues (the Disability Pension is ironically not enough if you have mental health issues because our subsidised healthcare doesn't cover mental health adequately and Australia has no food stamps system), to being able to live a bit more freely and support my chronic health stuff a bit more because of writing this way!

For the first time ever through these stories I was able to afford a psychiatrist, and a few other things I really desperately have needed since I was a teenager. So being able to write like this, even when it's really hard and I'm really tired, feels still like a miracle to me. I've never been well or healthy enough to work a full-time job with typical 9-5 hours, and always kind of was stuck imagining a life where I'm just...never knowing how to afford certain things, to being in a position where I'm fairly confident I can get my meds every month, or pay for my dog's pet food, etc. It's really nice.

But yeah honestly serial writing is the most stressful form of serial writing there is as soon as you lock it in as a professional job where you must meet nearly 10 deadlines every month and you happen to have pretty intense ADHD so deadlines make you scream a little.

Sometimes what is extremely stressful and sometimes even distressing for someone is also extremely productive and rewarding for them too. We probably wouldn't have a lot of emergency surgeons if that were the bar for how we decide what we do!

[serqphiim]

pt 2 of the short fic i posted a couple weeks ago + art that goes with :p

Everything was fine before. They had followed the plan to a tee. No one knew how they missed the ambush of Galra fleets or how so much destruction happened in such little time. There was rubble and debris as far as Keith could see. Hundreds of buildings crumbled to pieces, and injured civilians were strewn across the ground.

With his ears still ringing from the blast that just hit, Keith whips his head around, eyes darting across the field, looking for any of the other Paladins.

His chest tightens when he realizes just how quickly everything had spiraled out of control. They were supposed to be here to help, to protect the innocent.

But now, it was all chaos.

“Shit...” Keith muttered, desperately scanning the wreckage. His heart hammered in his chest, and his breaths came fast as he began sprinting through the debris. His boots kicked up dust as he ran, but his mind was elsewhere—on his team, on his friends.

“Lance?” Keith’s voice cracked over the comms, a sudden wave of panic creeping in. “Shiro? Hunk? Pidge? Anybody?”

The comms crackled, distorted from the blast, but all he heard was static.

“Lance?” Keith tried again, louder this time, his voice rising in desperation. The air around him was thick with the scent of burnt metal and ash, making it hard to breathe, let alone focus.

The ringing finally stopped and he could hear voices in the distance. As the dust began to settle, he could see what commotion was in front of him.

The other paladins had all reconvened and were working to take down the last of the Galra soldiers. Shiro had been knocked down by one of them, Keith immediately ran to help him up. He let out a sigh of relief, thankful he found the rest of the team.

Before he could ask Shiro if he was alright, a shrill scream broke through the crowd. Both turned to look for the source of the cry, and that’s when he saw it.

Lance falling to the ground after throwing himself in front of one of the civilians, taking a shot straight to the chest.

__________________________________________

"Lance!" Keith shouted, running over without a second thought. His legs nearly buckled as he pushed through people and debris, but he didn’t stop, he couldn’t. Not until he reached him.

With his bayard in hand and at the ready, he pierced through the soldier’s armor with ease, killing him in an instant. As the body fell right at his feet, he turned to where Lance lay unconscious, collapsing to his knees in an instant.

He took off Lance’s helmet, searching for a heartbeat. After a second, he found a weak and shallow pulse. As Keith pulled back, he looked for any wounds, trying to gauge how bad the damage was.

“Lance…” Keith mumbled out with concern as he continued to search for injuries.

Lance’s eyes fluttered open at the sound of his name, a weak smile tugging at his lips, but it looked more like a grimace. “Keith… you’re here,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I’m right here,” Keith said urgently, trying to steady his hands as he pulled Lance up to a sitting position. He cringed slightly when he saw Lance’s face wince. His armor had protected him to an extent, but the injury was still deep—too deep. Blood seeped through his suit. Keith could feel his own pulse quicken as panic rose in his throat.

“We gotta get you out of here,” Keith muttered, swallowing hard. He glanced around, the Galra had been taken care of, the other paladins weren’t severely injured.

“Shiro!” Keith called out as he helped Lance to his feet. “You and the others stay out here and help in any way you can. I have to get Lance back to this castle!”

He turned away before Shiro could get the chance to disagree.

As Keith headed towards the ship, he noticed how Lance shook with every step, barely able to stay balanced.

Without a word, he lifted him up, into his arms. Keith decided carrying Lance would be the fastest and safest way to get back to the castle.

“Cradling me in your arms again? You’ve got it bad Samurai.” Lance said weekly.

“Don’t joke about this, Lance.” His voice was sharp, more forceful than he intended. He took a breath to steady himself. “You need to be back at the castle, in a healing pod as soon as possible.”

“I’m fine,” Lance said, though his voice trembled, and the blood on his side seemed to be spreading faster. “Just a scratch. No big deal.”

Keith clenched his jaw, trying not to lose his temper, but the fear that gnawed at him made it hard to control. “This is not just a scratch Lance! You jumped in front of someone and got shot!” he snapped.

“I’ll be fine Keith. I’m gonna be okay…” Lance trailed off as his eyelids fluttered, and his head drooped as if he were fighting to stay awake.

“No no c’mon, you gotta stay with me. Just a little longer and we’ll be there.” Keith said frantically. He pulled him in even closer, holding Lance’s body against his chest. He could feel the other Paladin’s heart rate, quick and shallow, and it made his stomach churn.

Lance managed a weak nod, his hand trembling as it reached for Keith’s face, his thumb rubbing against his cheek. He looked up at Keith with those tired eyes, and for a moment, it almost felt like they were back in the Castle of Lions—back before everything had gone wrong. Back when they had the luxury of joking and teasing and acting like things would be okay.

As Lance slowly let his arm fall back down, Keith could feel the warmth of his hand being replaced by the strange, cold feeling of Lance’s blood on his cheek.

They staggered through the broken streets, Keith’s arm tight around Lance. Every step felt like a battle, and the weight of the situation threatened to crush Keith’s resolve. He could see the castle up ahead, just within reach, and in the back of his mind, the thought of losing Lance made everything else seem like it would fall apart.

__________________________________________

The doors to the castle immediately opened as Keith approached, Allura waiting at the entrance to help him carry Lance in. They got him out of his armor and into a healing pod as quickly as they could. Keith didn’t bother to change out of his armor or even wipe the blood off of his face. He just sat there on the ground, staring up at Lance.

Allura sat down beside him, neither one of them said a word. She stayed with him until he eventually succumbed to exhaustion and fell asleep right there. Before heading to bed herself, Allura gently tucked a pillow under his head and draped a blanket over him, knowing there was no point in trying to get him to leave that spot.

__________________________________________

When Keith woke up, he saw Allura walking over to him. She sat beside him again, handing him a plate of food and a glass of water.

“Eat. You need it after how hard you pushed yourself yesterday.” She said as she nudged the plate closer to him.

Keith said nothing in response. He picked up the fork and poked at the food for a minute before looking back at Lance in the cryo pod.

“He’s stable.” Allura added, “He lost a lot of blood out there, so I cannot guarantee when he’ll wake, but I know he wouldn’t have made it without you.”

Keith set the fork down and looked at her with pained, tired eyes. “Thank you. For the food and the bedding, I mean,” he said softly.

“Eat what you can, and then change out of your armor. Maybe wash up too.” Allura told him. “I’ll stay here and make sure he’s okay. Please take care of yourself, Keith.”

Before he had the chance to protest and list off all the reasons why he should just stay with Lance, Allura spoke up again.

“I understand you feel like you can’t leave him, but please it won’t help him to ignore your own needs-”

“But you don’t understand Allura, not fully at least.” Keith cut her off.

“I understand more than you think Keith.” She explained. “I see how the two of you care for each other and I can tell how important he is to you, but I also know that he would want you to take care of yourself.” She placed a hand on his shoulder, looking at him with worry.

Keith sighed and slowly stood up from his makeshift bed. “...Okay, but please promise that you’ll let me know if anything happens.” He pleaded.

“Of course. You’ll be the first to know.” Allura gave him a small smile before he walked out of the room.

__________________________________________

Days had turned into weeks, yet Lance still hadn’t woken up. Keith continued spending all of his time sitting and keeping an eye on the cryo pod, refusing to do almost anything else. He was barely eating or sleeping, and he stopped joining the team on missions, insisting it was more important that he stay with Lance.

Shiro excused it the first few times seeing as the missions were fairly simple, but it was becoming an increasing problem.

“Keith,” Shiro called out as he stepped through the doorway his voice stern.

“What…” Keith mumbled. He didn’t turn to face him, instead, he sat with his legs pulled up to his chest, his arms wrapped around them, eyes locked on Lance.

“We need you out in the field with us today. We got a distress call from a planet nearby, they’ve spotted Galra cruisers around and they’re worried about an attack. Having you out with us would be really helpful…” Shiro trailed off, hoping he’d be convincing enough.

“Just cruisers? You don’t need me for that. I have to stay here Shiro, I need to be here if he wakes up, you know that.” Keith argued back.

“Keith, these people called for our help. They called for Voltron, it’s our job to protect them-”

“They haven’t even been attacked yet, so why’d they even bother sending a distress signal? This isn’t something for Voltron, it’s not like we can form Voltron without Lance anyway. I’m sure three of the lions will be plenty.” Keith snapped.

“You’ve been in here, waiting, for weeks now Keith. I’ve let it slide for a while, but you can’t just drop everything for this. We have a job to do and a duty to uphold. Just because this planet hasn’t been attacked yet doesn’t mean they aren’t in danger. We’re called the ‘Defenders of the Universe’ for a reason, so stop all the sulking and get out there with us. It’s not like Lance is waking up anytime soon.”

The room was silent, Shiro’s words hung in the air, and the tension between the two was almost palpable at this point. Keith stood up and turned to face Shiro.

“I’m not going.” Keith retorted, his brows furrowed as he glared at Shiro.

“Keith look, I didn’t mean-”

“No. Right now there’s nothing that matters more than making sure Lance is okay. If I go back out on missions, if I’m not here and something happens to him, then it would all be for nothing. Without Lance, the universe isn’t worth defending. Don’t you get it? There’s nothing for me without him, so I’m going to stay here and do all I can to make sure he stays safe.” Keith realizes what he just said, what he just admitted, but it doesn’t matter anymore.

“Fine.” Shiro shot back as he turned to leave.

__________________________________________

The other paladins came back a short while later, after successfully clearing out any Galra ships nearby. As they all got settled, Allura went to check on Keith and after what seemed like an eternity of convincing, he agreed to join them for dinner.

Calling it awkward would be an understatement, the hostility between Keith and Shiro was still at a high. Allura and Hunk tried to ease the tension the best they could, but it wasn’t much help. Keith sat there, pushing his food around, giving one-word responses to everyone.

Just as he was about to excuse himself from the table, Keith heard the familiar hiss of a cryo pod opening come from down the hall. He immediately stood up, racing out and down the hallway. He stopped in the doorway, catching his breath.

As he looked up, he saw the walls of the pod lowering. In an instant, he was right there in front of it, catching Lance as he slumped out. Keith could feel him stirring as he finally woke up.

“Lance…” Keith called out softly. He felt a weight fall off his shoulder as Lance’s eyes fluttered open and he slowly stood up on his own.

“What’s this, like the third time you’ve ‘cradled’ me?” Lance said somewhat slurred, still not fully awake.

“Lance,” A small laugh escaped Keith’s lips “Are you alright?” he asked his voice filled with desperation.

“Never been better.” He said with his usual confidence. “You aren’t looking too great there Samurai…are you okay?” Lance asked.

“Oh, who cares?” Keith answered.

“I do!” Lance exclaimed, almost hurt Keith would say something like that.

Keith started laughing, the tears that were brimming his eyes, were now falling down his cheeks.

For a moment, they just stood there, holding each other. Keith still couldn’t quite believe this was real. He took one hand off Lance’s waist, slowly bringing it up to cup his face before pulling him into a soft, long-awaited kiss.

“Keith I-” Lance started, but then quickly stopped as he saw the rest of the team standing on the other side of the room. All of their faces were in different states of shock as they processed what they just walked in on.

“Keith everyone is in the room with us…they all just saw that…” Lance whispered.

Keith quickly turned his head, seeing his teammates standing there with their jaws on the ground. He turned back to Lance and started laughing again.

“You know what? I don’t care anymore. I’m tired of keeping this hidden anyway. I almost lost you, Lance, I’m not going to let another day go by without letting you know I love you.” Keith stops himself, realizing what he just said.

Though both of them knew it, neither one of them had actually said ‘I love you’ out loud.

Lance didn’t say anything, he just pulled Keith back in for another kiss, without a care in the world.

As he pulled away, Lance smiled softly, his forehead resting against Keith’s. “You know, I was starting to think I’d never hear you say that.”

Keith chuckled. “Yeah, well... better late than never, right?”

“You’ve got that right.” Lance let out a small laugh, still holding him close. “And for the record, I love you too.”

__________________________________________

Keith glanced over to see their teammates still frozen in shock. He raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. “You guys planning to join us, or are you just gonna keep staring?”

There was an awkward pause before Pidge, as straightforward as ever, blurted, “Well, I guess this answers a lot of questions…and some of you owe me money.”

Keith rolled his eyes, turning back to Lance only to see him pouting. “Yeah, well... not exactly the grand reveal I was hoping for.”

Keith laughed quietly, squeezing his hand. “Doesn’t matter. They’ll get over it.”

The room went quiet again, but this time, it was a comfortable silence, a silent understanding between all of them. After a long moment, Shiro cleared his throat, his voice more nervous than usual. “Look, Keith…I owe you an apology.”

Keith turned to him, surprised. “What?”

Shiro stepped forward, his expression genuine. “I’ve been hard on you, especially lately. I let my own issues get in the way of seeing what was really going on with you. I should’ve been there for you, instead of pushing you.” He glanced at Lance briefly, before meeting Keith’s eyes again. “And I know it’s a little late, but… I’m sorry. I was wrong.”

Keith felt a lump rise in his throat, but he nodded, not trusting himself to speak right away. After everything, after all the tension between them, hearing that felt like a weight lifting off his chest.

“I—” Keith started, but he stopped, swallowing down the lump in his throat. “Thanks, Shiro. It’s… it means a lot.”

Shiro gave a small, apologetic smile. “I’m just glad you’re both okay now.”

Keith gave a brief nod, before turning back to Lance, feeling a rush of warmth flood him. His heart wasn’t just lighter—it was full.

Lance reached out, his fingers brushing against Keith’s, and Keith turned to him with a soft smile.

The silence lingered for a moment, comfortable, but the team was still there, standing in the doorway.

“Well, I guess we should let you two... uh... have some privacy?” Shiro’s voice was awkward, but the sincerity in his words wasn’t lost on Keith.

Keith raised an eyebrow, glancing back at the team. “Yeah, I think we’ve had enough of an audience for one day.”

They took that as their cue to leave and slowly shuffled out of the room. Keith wrapped his arms around Lance again, pulling him close. The rest of the world seemed to fade away as he whispered, “I love you,” one more time.

Lance smiled against his lips, murmuring, “I love you too, Keith.”

[sleepyfaceandsnark]

Worry

TK has anxiety about Carlos going back to work.

AO3

If we're still alive My regrets are few If my life is mine What shouldn't I do?

-

TK wakes to the sound of their dresser drawer being opened and shut.  He rolls over and feels that Carlos isn't there. Okay, so someone wasn't breaking in to steal their socks. 

TK sits up slowly. "What're you doing?" 

"Getting ready for work," Carlos says nonchalantly, closing the drawer after he gets what he's looking for. 

"Work?" TK pulls the covers off himself. "Already?" 

"It's been a few weeks," Carlos pulls his shirt over his head. "I have to go back eventually." 

TK makes his way over to his fiancé. "Yeah, but isn't it a little soon?" He asks. "You were kidnapped by a serial killer. You died. If you need someone to vouch for you about that I was literally there. Your dad too." 

"I don't need that," Carlos says.

He looks to TK who's looking down at the ground. Carlos grabs TK's hand and squeezes it. "But thank you." He smiles. 

TK looks at him and sighs. He gives him a small smile but it's still not confident enough for Carlos.

"I'll be fine," he assures TK putting both of his hands on TK's shoulders. "Okay?" 

TK nods. "Okay." 

Carlos moves his hands to TK's cheeks and kisses him. "Okay." He leaves one hand still holding TK's face. "I'll see you tonight." 

TK nods again. His shift starts an hour or so after Carlos', so he'll get home just as Carlos finishes dinner. He keeps that thought in his mind to help him get through the day. Carlos will be back here when he's out of work. He won't be out looking for the boogeyman. He'll be safe. 

-

"What's with you?" Nancy asks.

It's 3 hours into their shift and they've gotten exactly one call so far. Since it's determined as a slow day (though no one says it from fear of jinxing it) they've all been gathered at the dining table for the past half hour. 

"Nothing," TK says. 

"Dude, you're shaking the table," Nancy comments and points to TK's leg. 

TK looks at his leg bouncing and grabs it to stop it. 

"What is it?" Nancy asks again. 

TK bites his lip, not really wanting to say but Nancy's look tells him she'll get it out of him eventually. "Carlos is back at work today." 

"Already?" Paul asks. 

"That's what I said!" TK exclaims. 

"Well, the only one to know if he's ready is himself, right?" Judd comments. "Maybe he is."

"Or maybe he's not but he thinks he needs to be," TK comments. 

"Do you think he's getting pressured to come back?" Paul asks.

"I don't know," TK says. "He told me he chose. Even said they offered him more time, but he denied it but I..." TK looks away, he starts biting his nail. 

"Have you called him?" Paul asks. 

"No," TK drops his hand. "I'm afraid he'll think I think he can't handle it." 

"When it's really you that can't?" Nancy asks. 

"I mean what if he freezes up or what if he goes off on his own again and gets stuck?" TK asks. His eyes are wide just like how they were the day Carlos went missing. 

"I doubt he's going to make that mistake again," Nancy tries to make light of it but TK isn't taking it. 

"Look we all have dangerous jobs," Judd says. "There are no guarantees." 

"I mean look at you. How many near death experiences have you had?" Nancy says. 

The fact that TK is running out of fingers to count them on should tell him something. "Yeah," TK scratches his head. 

"This ought to take your mind off of it," Judd says, putting a plate in front of TK. "My great Aunt's recipe."

TK gives a half assed smile up to Judd. "Thanks, but I'm not really hungry."

TK pushes his chair back and moves away from the table. Nancy, Paul, and Judd watch TK walk over to the TK and sit on the couch. His foot rests on the corner of the coffee table, vibrating like it was at dining table a few minutes ago, as he starts biting his thumbnail again.

Mateo comes back from the restroom and takes TK's spot at the table. He starts complimenting Judd's cooking as the rest look from TK to him.

"What?" Mateo asks, mouth full of food. 

Judd sighs. "Alright. Let's eat. Before Mateo hogs it all." 

Nancy and Paul get in line as they advert their eyes away from TK.  

"Gimme a minute," Nancy says as she slides her phone out of her pocket. 

"What're you doing?" Paul asks. 

"Calling the only other person that can talk TK down." 

Carlos feels his phone vibrate in his pocket. He excuses himself from his coworker as he takes it out of his pocket. The caller ID tells him it's Nancy and it arises a slight panic in him. It's not like she hasn't called him for other reasons, but his body will always flashback to that one call during the blizzard a year ago. 

"Nancy?" 

"Hey!" Nancy greets friendly and Carlos relaxes. 

"Your fiancé'," Nancy draws out playfully. Then she looks over at TK. His leg bouncing, his nail biting, and now his hands gripping his head as if he was begging the thoughts to stop. She sobers up her voice. "TK's worried about you."

Carlos sighs. "I told him I'm fine."

"And you never say that and don't mean it, right?" Nancy asks knowingly. 

Carlos lets out a small laugh. "Maybe. But really, I am."

"Yeah, well he doesn't seem to think that."

"I thought work would take his mind off worrying?" Carlos asks. 

"Yeah, we've gotten about...one call so far?" 

"One?" 

"Mhmm." 

"Jesus," Carlos sighs and looks at the piles of paper in front of him. He rubs his temples.  

"Yeah."

"I'd come by but," Carlos stops to lift one of the piles off and put it on top of another. "Got a lot of paperwork here."

"Yeah of course. It stacks up I bet. Look I just wanted to let you know. TK didn't want to say anything. Didn't want you thinking he didn't trust that you'd know you were okay or something but..."

"Yeah. I'll talk to him at dinner. Or if this workload lightens up." 

"Okay. Hey maybe we'll get a few emergencies in a bit and take his mind off of it."

"Begging for emergencies. You sound like TK." 

Nancy laughs. "You know," she says serious again. "Not that TK hasn't told you a million times, I'm sure, but if you're not ready to be back."

"I know. Thank you."

"No problem." 

They hang up. 

‘Luckily’ about 10 minutes after Nancy hangs up, they get a call and from there it was call after call until their shifts were over. 

TK checks in on Carlos after the second call with Carlos reassuring him again that he’s okay. They get interrupted by TK’s 3rd emergency and then TK doesn't have the time the rest of the night. 

-

-

TK gets home exhausted both physically and mentally. As much as the emergencies took his mind off of worrying for the time being, he still found time to in between. He hates the extreme sigh of relief he breathes out when he opens the loft doors and sees Carlos safe, smiling, setting the table up. 

"Hey, babe," He greets TK with a smile. "Dinner will be ready in a few minutes." 

TK's stomach was in knots all day but he doesn't want to make Carlos think anything is wrong so he musters the best fake smile he can. "Smells good." 

Carlos turns away to grab the sizzling pan and TK drops his smile. Carlos doesn't notice. He's too busy fixing their plates. TK takes off his jacket and drapes it on the couch as Carlos goes to put the plates on the table. 

"Dinner is-" 

Carlos is cut off by TK grabbing him for a hug. 

"TK?" 

TK doesn't answer, just squeezes tighter. 

Carlos runs his hands on the back of TK's neck and pulls himself to the crook of TK's neck. He rub's TK's sides. "Hey." 

TK pulls away. Carlos grips his face and tries to look into his eyes but TK's are meeting the floor. Carlos takes a quick look back at the dining table, hot food that he spent the past hour making getting cooler by the minute. He looks back at TK. 

"We need to talk," he says. He needs TK's undivided attention, not distracted by food he may or may not eat. 

"Food's getting cold," TK comments.

"Were you going to eat much of it?" Carlos asks fully aware that it was unlikely.  "It was going to get cold either way." 

"You should eat though," Not even defending himself from Carlos' comment. 

"I can wait a bit. Come on," Carlos says. He nudges his head to towards the living room. "I'll be there in a few minutes. Let me just put these away in some containers."

As much as he really wanted a hot home cooked meal this is more important. 

TK listens and disappears to the other side of the loft.

As soon as the food is put away Carlos makes his way over to the couch. TK's leg is shaking ever so slightly in nervousness. If it was anyone else besides Carlos, they wouldn't have even noticed. Carlos touches TK's legs gently as he sits next to him. The shaking stops as if by magic. 

"What'd you want to talk about?" TK asks and Carlos almost laughs. It's so innocent, not that TK was in trouble or anything, but he had to at least have some clue what this was about. 

Carlos sighs and scoots even closer to his fiancé. "Nancy called." 

"She did?" TK asks, genuinely surprised. "When?"

"Earlier today," Carlos says. He tries to wait for TK to connect what it possibly would be regarding but when it's silence for a while Carlos lets it out. "She was worried...about you...worrying about me." Carlos smiles softly.

"That's a lot of worrying," TK comments. He looks to Carlos to laugh it off and let it go but he doesn't. TK sighs and looks down at his hands and starts wringing them. 

"TK..." 

"What? I'm not allowed to worry?"

"No one is saying that," Carlos places his hand on top of TK's. His thumb massages TKs knuckles. 

"It's just...it's too soon." TK says now gripping Carlos' hand "You didn't have enough time. You're not ready to go back." 

"I'm not ready?" Carlos asks. "Or you're not ready for me to go back?" 

"Both?" TK shrugs. 

"TK, I told you-"

"I know what you told me, but you could just be saying that. You're always trying to hide how you feel and I get it but," Tk stops himself. "You don't have to bury it anymore." 

"I know I have a history of doing that, but I promise you I'm ready." 

TK opens his mouth but hesitates. 

"You don't believe me," Carlos says. 

TK sighs. "You don't get it. You died under me. "

"I don't get it?" Carlos asks. His voice is soft, no anger in his voice detected. "You don't think I worry any time you go on a call? With the track record of the 126. You don't think I worry every time Nancy calls like she did today? Thinking it'd be like the snowstorm."

TK tries to look away from Carlos' eyes, but Carlos moves his head so slightly to look back into them.   

"TK you've almost died on me twice, at least once before we met, got kidnapped, and were in apparently 3 comas. I worry about you every minute of every day."

TK looks down but Carlos touches his chin to raise his face back up to his eye line.  "But I trust you and I know you're doing what you love, and I'd never stop you from it. So, I need you to trust me that I know I'm ready to get back and do what I love." 

TK nods slowly. "Doesn't mean I'm going to stop worrying." 

Carlos smiles. "I didn't say you had to. But you can't let it get in the way of work. Or of us." 

TK sighs and smooths his hands over his legs. "Okay," he says softly. 

"Okay," Carlos says back. He grabs TK's hand as he sands back up. 

"I love you," TK says. 

"I love you too," Carlos says back. "Now let's eat. I'm starving and if we hurry it might still be warm." 

Now they wish it was all up from there, anxiety free days for both of them, but there will always be an added worry to both of them now every time they leave the house or part from each other. It's just how life goes. Some days TK gets in his head too much when Carlos doesn't answer the phone right away and Carlos still panics when Nancy calls him even if it's just to ask what snacks to bring for a loft hang after work. They both make promises to talk it out with each other if it gets too much and to never tell the other to quit or leave unless it was truly their best interest. 

[risingsunresistance]

[icewindandboringhorror]

I occasionally wish to reach out to old friends/acquaintances I haven't spoken to since high school/some other even earlier time in my life, but I have SOOO little social energy even for required tasks (like making dr phone calls or etc), I never have any leftover for extra ones, and it would be very odd to message someone I haven't spoken to in like 5 years out of the blue but then take 4 entire months to respond back lol.. My natural curiosity with nostalgia/collecting details of the past/etc. (literally if I were born a little earlier I would definitely do scrapbooking or something lol) is very strong, but, alas, not strong enough to beat out the Social Issues Demons apparently

[leah2eroes]

tumblr stopped being fun at some point in the last like 3 weeks. i hope it comes back. i feel awful.

[luck-of-the-drawings]

when i was in highschool one o my biggest coping mechanisms was drawing all the kids i hated getting killed and eaten and killed. and well. time is a slowly ascending spiral. you will find patterns.(i work as a blackjack dealer. gamblers are FASCINATING

[front-facing-pokemon]

[nexility-sims]

🌷

[jutsuuu]

girl help I’m experiencing

[doodlingwren]

Hiatus

I am going on hiatus for a bit more. I really really hoped the stuff that have been going on lately were already "sorted out" but, uhm... they aren't. I need to take a bit more time offline once again, and try to work things out.

Thank you for your patience ❤

Wren

[things-i-send-to-my-darling-bf]

Hello, followers.

In front of you is a masterpost made by my husband, it was weeks of work and organising alongside a huge effort and determination to assist Argentinian artists.

You have one button to press, if you choose to press it you can stay but if you refrain i will slowly start filling the room with gas blocking you all.

You understand that i do not need to let you stay here as this was never a space for you.

I am so proud of him and the efforts he has put in and it takes only a moment for you to spread that, this is not only for him but an entire group of artists and creatives who deserve recognition and visibility. I know you see the post, i get notes as you scroll through liking posts meant to be shared with my husband.

You have 48 hours or until i get annoyed enough.

[musicalmoritz]

I want to make it very clear that I do not have writers block, the only reason I haven’t finished that Aoinene fic yet is bcuz I’m lazy af. And because my sister keeps asking to hang out every time I sit down to work on it and I can’t break the sacred bond of sibling time🍎

[readymades2002]

trying to do some financial math for if i move out and getting sick to my stomach

[stariel-and-stuff]

This is so unrelated to what I normally post but my bff took these Redpanda pictures for me and it made me really happy so I wanted to share: