#shiro asks

[kcokaine]

Ooh who's the new oc?? Care to introduce him? 🙏🙏

his name's Shiro Gojo and he is Satoru's 1 year older cousin WITHOUT the six eyes. Runt baby. He is still wip but i can tell u he is a coked up frat boy and his cursed technique is called Plasma Paralysis, he controls static electricity essentially

[sylenth-l]

short king Tevis

Every single group pic they take is like this:

[autisticlancemcclain]

The first bout of whispering, Shiro can ignore. He’s a teacher by trade, after all. Astronaut, sure. Paladin, even. But he always expected to be a teacher, trained for it, and he knows when you put a group of teenagers in a room and expect them to start learning by lecture, there’s going to be some whispering. He’d be concerned if there wasn’t, frankly.

But as it keeps happening, again and again, to the point where it’s almost constant, Shiro begins to lose his patience.

“Lance, Hunk,” he says, catching himself long before then. He tries to smile, gentle but firm. “Everything okay?”

The two boys clam up immediately. Lance even begins to lean slightly away from Hunk, although Shiro’s not sure he notices.

Shiro frowns, puzzled at the reaction. That’s — uncommon. He’s seen embarrassed, seen sheepish, seen unbothered, even seen downright rude, but Lance looks almost… afraid. And Hunk looks at him with a lot more anxiety than the situation calls for, but Shiro is beginning to notice that that’s just Hunk.

The both mutter some semblance of apology, and Shiro moves on quickly, unwilling to dwell on the incident too long.

For the rest of the briefing, he keeps an eye on them. He’s still focused, of course, as their break-in and recon on a nearby Empire warship is not only hugely dangerous, but will also be hugely beneficial, but he lets his notes do a lot of the talking for him. He flits his eyes to the pair every so often, and while Hunk meets his eyes on occasion, smiling slightly, Lance keeps his head down, hunched over his tablet.

Shiro notices that the tablet is powered off. He doesn’t write a single note.

His shoulders are hunched up to his ears.

———

“Alright, kiddo, good job.”

Keith grins, stepping backwards and bowing to finish the fight. Shiro bows back, matching his smile.

“You did great.”

“I know,” Keith says cheekily. “You’re getting easier and easier to beat. Probably because you’re elderly.”

Shiro raises an eyebrow. “Am I.”

His annoying little brother hums, completely unconcerned. He steps off to the side and starts swinging around his training stick, very clearly showing off. “Mhm. It was super easy to fight you. I just went whoosh, smack, bam! —” he punctuates every sound with a swing and slash of the stick — “and every hit just landed. Honestly, I think a punching bag would have been more of a challenge. Adam is a way better spar partner than you. I wish I was shot into space with him.”

Shiro’s eye twitches. It’s a clear goad, he knows it is. Keith isn’t even trying to hide it. He’s a twerp with too much energy and too much experience pressing all of Shiro’s buttons — a favourite button of his, of course, being the bit of…healthy competition Shiro has always had with his boyfriend.

(He’s well aware of the irony. He hears Adam pointing and laughing in his head every time he endures Keith’s complaining about Lance pulling his mullet, so to speak. In fact keeping his mouth shut about the parallels is the only thing keeping him from throwing Keith down the laundry chute. He’s waiting for a moment when the reveal can be well and truly devastating.)

Shiro manages, with herculean strength, to step away from his turd of a brother, putting his training stick away.

“I am leaving,” he says loudly, pointedly turning away. “I said I’d train one hour with you and not a second more.”

He feels Keith’s pout more than sees it. “Coward.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Shiro snorts, waving his hand dismissively. He hears swishing sounds, and the clicks of buttons — Keith is starting up his own training. Again. “Don’t be late for dinner or I’ll send Lance after you.”

“Can’t promise I won’t maim him,” Keith mutters. “Sometimes I just want to wring his neck.”

Shiro is very familiar with that feeling. Or at least the raving about it. He used to feel great pleasure in driving Adam to that point, just because he was hot when he was mad. But Shiro values his limbs — or at least what’s left of them — where they are, so he keeps the comments to himself as he makes his way out of the training room, meandering back to his own quarters.

He takes his time showering and redressing, knowing he’s got some time before dinner. He thinks Hunk even managed to wrestle Coran out of the kitchen, which means no food goo. It also means that he’s banned from even breathing near the kitchen until the food is fully cooked and completed — which is a bullshit ban and one based in false accusations — but he’s sure he can help set the table, or something. Stir a pot. He’s good at that.

He towels off his hair, not bothering to style it, and takes his time walking over to the kitchens. The castle floors are cold under his bare feet, he finds himself wishing he had the lion slippers Lance made him. They’re very warm. He never wears them because he’s terrified of ruining them, but it’s so icy in here that he might start having to, or else he’ll freeze.

As he approaches the kitchen, he hears voices. He freezes, quieting his steps and pausing behind the wall to listen. Hopefully no one else walks by, or that will be humiliating.

“— all you have to do is ask, Lance, just casually, it’s not even —”

“— it is even, Hunk, it’s the worst and I’m not doing it, why would I inconvenience —”

“— it isn’t! Not even a little! It’s the smallest tiniest thing!”

“Hunk —”

Hunk throws his hands up in exasperation, spoon going flying and splattering some kind of blue sauce all over the cabinets. Neither of them even blinks at it.

“I am tired of watching you struggle, Leandro! Heaven forbid you ask for help!”

Shiro frowns. That’s not good. That sounds serious.

“I asked for help,” Lance huffs, arms crossed over his chest. “I asked you, didn’t I?”

“I don’t count and you know it,” Hunk says sharply, mirroring him. “I already knew.”

Lance looks away, clenching his jaw. His fingers are tangled in his jacket’s sleeve, tense.

“You don’t have to help anymore if it’s too hard,” he mumbles. “I can handle it myself.”

Hunk softens. “It’s not that, Lance.” He wipes his hands in his apron and pulls Lance to his chest. Lance goes, although he doesn’t move his arms, burying his face in Hunk’s shoulder. “You know it’s not that. If that’s all we have then I’ll keep doing it, damn the consequences.” He pulls back slightly, nudging Lance back so he can look him in the face. “You can just do better, dude. All you gotta do is tell Shiro about your —”

A hand claps over Hunk’s mouth, cutting him off, and Lance squeaks, “Hey, Shiro, hello, hi!”

Shiro startles. He scrambles upright before Hunk turns all the way, so at least he’s only seen crouching by the door like a weirdo by one person.

He clears his throat. “Uh, hi.”

“You’re banned from the kitchen,” Hunk says, muffled. How he looks so mighty and dignified with Lance’s hands still very much pressed to his face is well and truly beyond him. Shiro is frankly awed.

“I just came to help set the table,” he assures, hands held up in surrender. “Promise I’ll stay away from the actual food.”

Hunk narrows his eyes, but must decide he could use the help, because he nods, stepping backwards so Lance’s hands fall back down.

“Alright,” he sighs. “I’m making stew. You can set out utensils if you must but know I’ll judge you heavily for it. Lance, come help me finish up.”

Lance scrambles after him, avoiding Shiro’s gaze like he’s sure he’s going to get yelled at. Shiro watches him go, perplexed.

———

The next few days are, for the most part, manageable. Their mission goes well, Keith is surprisingly mellow — Shiro suspects the little nerd has discovered a library of some kind — and distress calls are minimal. All in all, Shiro should be taking the time as the blessing it is and catching up on some much needed R&R.

Instead, he’s worrying about the Blue Paladin.

Shiro can’t say he knows him well. They’ve hardly been in space a couple of months, after all, and while Shiro must have taught him a couple times — he was in the piloting program so it’s almost impossible that they didn’t cross paths — the Garrison is huge, and Shiro largely teachers younger students. Shiro can’t recall teaching a Lance, anyway.

But he can tell something’s off.

Besides the fact that Hunk keeps looking at Lance with concern, the Cuban seems…withdrawn, almost. He still works hard in training and smokes them in any kind of long distance, but there doesn’t seem to be any joy in it. Even his arguments with Keith seem halfhearted, which Keith will never admit leave him agitated as much as it has Shiro’s eyebrows raising. Shiro is sure, basically, that something is the matter, and surer still that he has to be the one to fix it.

How exactly he should go about it…well, that’s the part he’s struggling with. He knows Lance is kind of star-eyed around him, even though they’re on the same playing field, so Shiro’s not sure just regular talking to him about it is going to do something. And he seemed pretty resistant when Hunk pressed, in the conversation Shiro overheard. He’s just not sure what to do.

Luckily, the situation starts to resolve itself.

“Hey, Shiro, can I talk to you?” Lance mumbles into his breakfast, as everyone else is distracted by Pidge and Keith’s loud argument about cryptids (Shiro has heard it too many times at this point. He’s tuned it out).

Shiro blinks. “Sure,” he says, trying to keep the shock out of his voice. “Now?”

“Uh, after we eat, maybe.”

Shiro tries very hard not to seem over enthusiastic. He sucks at that, so it doesn’t work, and it seems to make Lance more stressed, which only stresses Shiro out more. By the time everyone has finished up and people are starting to file out to various tasks, the tension between them is so thick Shiro feels as if he might suffocate.

Suddenly, as if he propelled himself, Lance springs to his feet, snatching his bowl and Shiro’s and powerwalking towards the kitchen sink. Shiro, startled, follows him.

“You okay?” Shiro asks softly, noticing the whiteness of Lance’s knuckles, clenched around a sponge, and the robotic way he scrubs it across a dirty spoon.

Lance says nothing. He keeps his eyes trained resolutely on the soapy water, spine ramrod straight, nerves bleeding from him in waves.

Hesitantly, Shiro rolls up his sleeves, standing beside him and beginning to dry what he rinses. As Shiro gets close he gets tenser, shoulders hiked up to his ears, but as the minutes drag on, empty kitchen echoing the sound of swishing water and clanking cutlery, he begins to calm down. Shiro watches his face relax, easing its worries twist, and terror fade from his brown eyes.

He hands Shiro the last clean dish to dry, then pulls the plug on the sink, darting over to grab a hand towel and starting to dry.

“Can you write mission plans in pink?”

The words rush out of him, like he’d been holding them between his teeth for God knows how long and they’d finally spilled out. He looks almost nauseous after he says them.

Shiro blinks. That was…not what he’d expected.

“…Why?”

“It’s perfectly okay if you can’t,” Lance continues, as if Shiro had not spoken. “I mean, whatever. I’ll figure it out. I’ve gone without this long, after all, and it’s totally doable. Of course there’s the migraines and the agony but that’s all light work. It’s war, after all. Ha.” He chuckles nervously.

He’s shrunk in on himself, looking almost small. Shiro stares at him with a dropped jaw and wide eyes. Lance doesn’t even notice, eyes focused intensely on the hand towel, breathing worryingly erratic.

“I just swore to Hunk that I’d ask, you know. He said it wouldn’t hurt. And of course it wouldn’t but I don’t need it. It’s just. You know.”

Shiro cannot stress enough how much he doesn’t know. He hasn’t felt this lost in a while.

“Pink makes the letters stick to the page. And I know that sounds stupid as shit and that’s because it is stupid as shit, unfortunately. Dyslexia is the dumbest thing in the world, actually. And who named it that? You know how hard that word is to spell? It’s hard. They should have called it — I dunno, I just mean, it’s whatever. It’s fine. I’ve handled it this long. Uh.” He looks up, finally, and maybe he doesn’t know how to make sense of Shiro’s expression, because he winces, shame overtaking his face. He sets down the towel and gestures vaguely behind him, stepping towards the door. “I’m just gonna — go. Sorry. See you later. Sorry.”

He all but flees out of the room. Shiro barely manages to snag the back of his hoodie, holding him in place.

“Lance. Chill a second. Give me time to respond.”

Lance looks deploringly at the door, then back at Shiro. He looks like he’s accepting his death. Shiro can’t help but feel the teensiest bit offended.

“I’m not going to bite you,” he says, aghast. “Jesus, kid. You’re going to give me a complex.”

To Shiro’s great relief, the remark makes Lance grin. Some of the tension eases from his face.

“You sound like my mother.”

“From what I’ve heard, that’s a compliment,” Shiro says lightly. He pulls out two chairs, orienting them so they’re facing each other. He deliberately takes the one farthest from the door, so Lance doesn’t feel trapped. He gestures to the other one. “Sit.”

Lance does.

“Now. From the beginning and with a little less fear, hopefully. Tell me what’s up, kiddo.”

Lance looks down at his hands, where he’s picking at a scar on his wrist.

“Um. So. I have dyslexia. I can’t read too well.”

Lance cringes as he says it. Shiro wonders who he has to kill for putting the idea that this is something to be ashamed about in his head.

“Cool,” Shiro says, as encouragingly as he can manage. “The main character of my favourite book series as a kid had dyslexia. I was jealous of everyone who had it. I used to pray for it.”

The revelation startles a laugh out of Lance, like Shiro hoped it would. The tension melts right off of him.

“You prayed?”

“Every night,” Shiro affirms, grinning. “I even crossed my eyes and pretended when it didn’t work. My mother didn’t believe me for a second.”

“You’re a dweeb,” Lance says, sounding kind of awed. Like he’s shocked that Shiro, too, is a nerd loser on this castle full of other nerd losers. “Dyslexia sucks.”

Letting his face settle into something more serious, Shiro nods. “I imagine it does.” He reaches over and squeezes Lance’s hand, subtly stopping him from picking at the skin. Keith has the same bad habit. “Writing in pink helps?”

Lance shrugs. “Sorta. Dunno why. But things are less squiggly when they’re written in pink or red. Not perfect, but it’s something. I can hardly read at all when they’re in black; it’s like my eyes are spinning out of my head trying to focus on ‘em. Gives me migraines like you would not imagine.”

“And thus Hunk whispering the plans to you so you don’t have to read them,” Shiro surmises, the whispering during briefings suddenly making sense. Guilt twinges in his belly.

“Yeah. Sorry about that, by the way. Didn’t mean to be rude.”

“Of course not,” Shiro says gently. “I get it now. Sorry for not understanding.” He frowns, remembering something. “I should’ve asked beforehand. Or suspected something, or known better, really. I had a kid a few years back in one of my astronomy courses. Li-something. I marked all his stuff in red for the same reasons.”

Lance makes a very particular face. Warning bells go off in Shiro’s head.

“I appreciated that very much,” Lance says politely.

It takes a moment for it to click.

Shiro considers banging his head against the table.

“Please tell me no,” he begs, ears reddening.

“It was a great honour to be renamed by the Takashi Shirogane,” Lance insists.

“I had you in my class for three years!” Shiro says, aghast. “I — I called you Li all the time! In front of people!”

“I didn’t want to correct you! That’s — embarrassing!”

Shiro cradles his head in his hands. Dear God. He knows he’s not great with names, but — Jesus. To rename a kid. Blatantly. Other teachers must have thought he was some cruel jackass.

“I think there was a Li McKinney ahead of me in roll call,” Lance offers, patting Shiro’s back delicately. “So. Pretty easy to mess up.”

“Did you write your name as Li on tests? And assignments?”

“After the first couple times, yeah. Hunk laughed at me. At a certain point I’d just dug myself too deep, I think.”

Shiro sighs, dragging his hand down his face. It’s still quite hot. He looks up at Lance, who’s mouth is twitching.

“You were short as shit back then,” he observes, trying to picture the kid in his class. “Like, shorter than Pidge.”

Lance scowls. “I was — saving up on growth spurts. Yeah. So. Purge that from your memory.” He smirks. “Like my name.”

Shiro groans. “I’m never hearing the end of that, am I.”

Lance smiles. “Probably not. I didn’t know you were uncool. It’s interesting. I’m seeing you in a whole new light.”

Shiro rolls his eyes, but reaches over to mess with Lance’s hair, like he would Keith. Unlike Keith, Lance freaks out way harder, screeching something about hard work and artistic expression.

He smiles. “Glad you came to talk to me, kid.”

Lance sticks out his tongue, but he looks pleased, too. “Yeah, yeah.”

[klanced]

actuallly new voltron movie WILL have keith AND lance and they will kiss sloppy crazy style canonically. -jeff bezcbos

thank you josh benzos 🫡

[leenfiend]

Family portrait say Kaltenecker!!!!

[localfanbaselurker]

From scrolling on Pinterest, I’ve discovered some things that I have questions about:

-> where does the whole “Keith is obsessed with moth man” thing come from

-> why is shiro referred to as a six-year-old

-> why did you guys decide to call keith’s dad “Texas Kogane” (this is actually funny so it’s not necessarily a question but more of an amused curiosity)

-> is Lance actually cuban or is that just a really popular headcanon/appeared once in a famous fic and everyone started using it

-> what is “shaladin” ???

[torveiglyart]

I debated a long time on whether his right or left leg should go, but I thought losing his left leg would be ‘symbolic’ of him slowly being distanced from the rest of the team in seasons 5 and 6. The exact opposite limb as shiro, the left side motif for Hunk and Pidge, and the lack of change on his right for Keith. During the later seasons, it kinda hurt to see him only every confiding in Allura, who’s attention was split from Lotor, and the mice, who are known snitches. I didn’t want to cut the right, as that would symbolize his loss of Blue and… his loss of Blue. It felt redundant to the red bayard. Actually, let’s talk about the red bayard for a moment.

As I see it, there are two pivotal reasons as to why Lance got a new form for his bayard: The Altean Broadsword.

The first reason is his character growth. Lance is the ‘class clown’ character of the paladins, but that persona is not as viable in a war as it is in a classroom. Lance has had to mature very quickly due to the circumstances surrounding his requirements as a paladin. The Altean Broadsword is a symbol of both his maturity as a person and his maturity into the solider role. Zarkon was the only other paladin known to have more than one form for his bayard, and held a strong connection to the Black Lion. Lance’s ability to have not just the basic rifle, but a sniper rifle and a sword shows his connection to Red, and possibly his nature as a blue paladin: flexibility. His bayard forms allow short to mid to long range that the other paladins don’t have. His ability to listen, adapt, connect, and support is reflected in his bayard.

The second is less happy. The Altean Broadsword could be a reflection of Shiro/Kuron’s need for Keith as the right hand of Voltron, and how Lance has been Keith’s ‘replacement’ multiple times. Lance was Keith’s red paladin before he was Shiro’s, and the two of them had to adjust how they view each other in Lance’s new role. Since Shiro was the clone, there could have definitely been great reluctance to treat Lance as the red paladin and right hand, but rather as another subordinate. This reluctance would have stemmed from how the Empire, and specifically Haggar, views the roles of each paladin, and how the other paladins were ‘subordinate’ to Black Paladin Zarkon. With Allura’s bayard being a whip, Lance’s original semi-long to mid range of combat was covered for the season 1-2 team set up in Blue. With Lance being in Red, a swordsman was missing on the team, and that role defaulted to Lance. He once again was a replacement for Keith, like back in the Galaxy Garrison. Keith leaves, and Lance fills in. This reasoning definitely does not help Lance’s declining mental strength when it comes to being respected by the team and feeling like a seventh wheel.

Overall, I do not think that these reasons are mutually exclusive to one another. I think both are true to varying degrees. Lance had a very complicated character growth arc that was overshadowed by Lotor, Shiro’s return, and the mess that is season 8. That’s not to say the other things weren’t important, and there were others (Hunk) that DEFINITELY deserved more attention, but there were things that could have been worked on. Lance manages, throughout the show, to be a parallel character to, well, everyone. A competitive pilot like Keith, caring and trusting like Hunk, inquisitive and quick thinking like Pidge, supportive and motivational like Shiro, and opinionated and just like Allura. But what does that leave him as?

I really went on a rant there but would love to hear other people’s thoughts about this. Yes, both the leg and what I wrote. You can also request art! I mainly do Voltron art but I do have experience with other fandoms (The Owl House, My Hero Academia, Star Wars, She-Ra, etc.), and would love to fulfill some asks.

[fractalkiss]

I wish you would write a fic where...

Lance isn't a driver, but Fernando is still his hero.

took me a while to figure something out for this in an angle that i would like to think about. but.. rule63! girl lancenando in the 2000's where lance isn't a driver but still dreams of racing (rated M under the cut):

She turns twenty-five on Monday really, but the cake is there anyway. Ribbon-piped vermillion and curled flowers around it with strings of pink icing on top that says Happy 25th. The decorative candle is in a similar loopy font, not the chunky kind. Chloe must have picked it out. Dad would have gone with the classic kids-party-cute, and Lance would have taken it in stride for the joke that it would have been from Dad had she still been sixteen.

Her birthday is on Monday, but it's the weekend, and people are here. Esteban is in his pink and navy team shirt after running from the motorhome to the restaurant they’re huddled in, slouched forward and clutching the backrest of the chair that Mick is sitting in. By the frosted glass windows, Alex is beaming an awkward but nonetheless shit-eating smile, her highlights still visible even in the backlight and Georgie’s there with her shoulders perfectly prim and poised while she’s stirring the straw of another (Alex’s) drink. They didn't have to show up, as quiet as this thing was meant to be while they’re at Monaco for the grand prix; there's appreciation there bubbling up in Lance anyway seeing Georgie trying to get day-drunk on an aperol spritz even when she could have made up a thousand and one excuses not to accept Lance's cordial invitation through an IM.

It goes like this: Count the number of girls who frequented a karting track at twelve and still see years later at an F1 grand prix and you’d hold up just one hand. Count the number of reasons you don't grow out of that, and it’s the same thing.

Somewhere over people’s heads, Lance’s mom is ushering someone closer. Through the glow of the candle flame in front of her, Lance sees a flash of Fernando’s squared, dimpled smile behind her mother before someone pats her gently to look back at the cake—"Come on, hon, make a wish," Dad says, and Lance will decide not to close her eyes. She wants this to be quick.

Fernando is helping her mother for the cutting, apparently. It’s how Lance looks up when Fernando holds out a plate of cake for her.

“You look a bit red,” Fernando comments, and Lance rolls her eyes. “Your mama says this is already small enough.”

“Wouldn’t have been a surprise if it wasn't,” Lance mutters through her strained smile.

"It is nice. Este is here, and your old boy the Schumacher."

"Oh whatever." Lance's own cheeks have only just stopped heating up. People are dispersing around them, going back to their own conversations, but it’s as if Lance can still feel them watching. She hears her father, chuckling along with other men as she takes the plate from Fernando to finally stick a forkful of ice cream cake in her mouth.

Fernando makes a soft noise beside her. “Seems your father will want to talk again,” she says, though she makes no move to get up, her legs stretched out in front of her like this is her small surprise party and not Lance's. The ends of her cargos brush the floor and the khaki grey looks pretty darn drab rather than understated, but Fernando pulls it off somehow.

“Ugh. I’ll say that we’re talking,” Lance offers pleasantly.

Fernando gives her a sideways look. “Are we?”

“We are,” Lance insists, and improvises, “The fundraiser’s doing well. And I asked, about new karts.”

Fernando barks out a silent laugh, more punch of air than anything but her eyes are warm. “We can do with more race kits also. We're fixing it up again, stronger barriers around the track, the tarmac is not so good, still.”

Lance hooks a strand of hair out of her face and huffs, “Well, that's new.”

Fernando’s laid on her liner a little stronger today, the softness of it creasing around her eyes as she grins. “See? Today should not be for this kind of talk, m'ija.”

"But I want to know," Lance says plainly, "Like, you know…Saturdays at the school, and the karters—" Whether the school was doing well, if there was any more help Lance and her father could give, whether Fernando's little niece went back to the track after skidding off and giving the scare of her mother's life.

The din of the restaurant isn't nearly loud enough for her to say it. Fernando is doing that thing with her hand where she's absently kneading circles into the arm of the chair with her thumb, a freshly healed patch of tanned skin there past the knuckle. Lance wants to ask when her next stint will be—as if she hasn't been watching every rally and Le Mans, each rare Formula One test session that Fernando gets to do, but as it goes—Lance still gets nervous around Fernando, for obvious reasons.

"Do you want to talk, later?" Fernando asks, like she's talking to something very small. The cloying sweetness from the cake sticks beneath Lance's tongue anyway, and her crossed legs feel tight and a little clenched in her seat. Fernando's perched herself almost still in her seat, her pants bunched a little over the crotch area; she moves her hand over Lance's bare knee, her calloused fingertips warm enough that Lance stops fiddling with the fine charm on her own bracelet.

"Later?" Fernando says again.

"Sure," Lance says.

*

When Fernando asked her whose picture from Autosport would Lance have cut out for safekeeping, Lance had smiled her sweetest and pretended like she wasn't kicking her feet at metaphorical pillows inside her in a sick squirm of panic and flattery over being asked. She'd told Fernando that she already owned a pristine vintage issue that contained a special on Sarah Fisher. It wasn't a lie—she did have the magazine, and Susie's issue too before her last name became Wolff, but as it goes, Lance gets nervous. The things she did to hide it only made her sound hollow and ruefully unimpressed, the kind of thing that used to hurt Mick's feelings a little bit years ago when they'd gone on dates. She's not proud of that. Esteban had to awkwardly offer tissues the first time she cried about it, frustrated at herself more than anything, really, a symptom of being clueless and seventeen.

She's in Fernando's hotel room now, and climbing onto the bed. The air-conditioning is turned on low, but there's a tingle down her spine anyway at the cool air hitting her skin. She's undressed down to her one of her nicest most comfortable lace sets. 

"It's for me," Lance mumbles, when Fernando comes out of the bathroom and gives her a once-over. 

"It's nice," Fernando just offers, and Lance feels herself huff. The muscles in her stomach tense for a second anyway, at the soft slight rasp of Fernando's voice. Anyone else would probably make Lance bored, would have made her automatically just, like switch on, to a performance.

Fernando's eyes are darker now as Lance tries to shimmy herself up farther and nudge at Fernando's leg with her foot to hurry up. "It's my birthday," Lance reminds her with a grin.

"And then another birthday on Monday, no?" Fernando counters. The lampshades here throw half her face in shadow, her jaw more pronounced while she's smiling a little. Her hand runs up the inside of Lance's thigh, finally. All Lance can notice now is how easily Fernando still moves in those baggy khaki pants, and how easy it'd be for her to be comfortable with it.

Lance brushes her foot over the inseam, and she feels it; Fernando was packing today. For how long, Lance doesn't know, but throughout the entire party earlier, for sure.

"Could you—" she starts, and moves forward to touch, but Fernando is already unbuttoning the pants, and getting out the silicone cock that slips out from the harness underwear, curved and a shade lighter than Fernando's skin. Lance wants to feel that brushing the back of her throat.

"That can wait," Fernando says, but Lance moves in, her mouth dry enough that saliva gathers fast, the fabric of her own panties starting to stick already with a wetness.

Last year, Lance had gotten down to eye the dark patch of Fernando's boxer briefs for the first time; Fernando had stroked through her hair to gently tilt her face back up. Lance hadn't collected a physical copy of the tiny piece that Fernando was in as featured Girl of the Year in motorsport; to do that, would have felt cheapened, somehow. Fernando is her own person—her stocky hands, solid and real and cupping the back of Lance's head back then and pulling her hair while she'd laughed, fine, princesa, fine, the sound rumbling against Lance's fingertips on Fernando's rib. Lance put herself to work for licking the wet folds of her cunt in a way that she hadn't ever for a blowjob with a boy.

"I want to," Lance tells her, and Fernando props up her face this time, fingers under her chin; she leans down swiftly for a kiss, quick and sweet.

"Then you'll lay back after, and I'll eat you out, and fuck you for as long as I want," Fernando promises, thumb rubbing Lance's pulse along her jaw, and Lance lets her eyes flutter close. ---

from the ask game: send me a summary of what you wish i'd write

[destiny2skeleton]

🦜 Not a lot of people ask about you. I'm curious how you fell into the rag tag gang? How do you deal with everyone else's antics? (Mostly Cayde's shenanigans and Tevis' moodieness.) Are you as stoic as people say?

Shiro Reply - Found Family

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🃏 Shiro found the group at first as a quick glimmer grab- but luckily for Andal and Cayde- he stays. KEEP ASKING AWAY I AM LOVING THESEE!!!!

[trancylovecraft]

I've been thinking about the blood of an unwilling covenant constantly since I first read it and just wanted to tell you, also saw you mention that you probably weren't going to explain the situation with F/Ns parents in fic and wanted you to know I am VERY curious as to what their deal is

EGEGHJIRUGHRHGUI IM HAPPY TO HEAR THAT YOU ENJOYED THE FIC SM!!! I'll be happy to answer, Mostly because if I do a one-shot or smth on it, it may be a while-

AND I KINDA REALLY WANNA RAMBLE.

OK SO. Before I explain I suggest you read the translation of The Official Blue Exorcist Side Story: Bloody Fairytale. You can find a translation here done by @29rynoah which I have read sEVERAL times over. I highly recommend it as it's one of my favourite stories from AOEX.

However if you wanna skip that, Tis cool.

[F/N]'s mother is Maria LaMorte from Bloody Fairytale, Who had given birth to [F/N] during her imprisonment within The Vatican.

[F/N] herself is probably the oldest of the exwires, Her birthday being sometime within early January.

Now here's the million dollar question, Who is the father?

Shiro Fujimoto.

During the events of Bloody Fairy-tale- Maria is in the middle of completing her rather grandeur goal of trying to turn the town into naberius' and other adjacent creatures. Of course, This doesn't go to plan though, When Shiro and Johan show up unexpectedly within the invasion.

Maria of course, As the story goes, Plays the victim and pretends that she had no idea what's going on.

Shiro, Johan, Maria and the rest of the townspeople barricade in the church as normal. The story continues on however there's a switch in the story.

Shiro approaches Maria who is leaning over on the balcony. Of course, Shiro keeps up his demeanour, Already aware of Maria and her intentions. They get to talking and Maria herself is attracted to Shiro despite not recognising her own feelings.

Though, Maria herself DOES recognise seduction as a way of manipulating others.

So of course one thing leads to another and suddenly you have the both of them climbing out of the same makeshift bed. Maria came out of this with much more complicated feelings than she had thought she'd have.

But on the other hand?

Shiro himself is at the point in his life where he's much more dark and gritty than the one we see raising the twins. This is an average thing for him, He's a player, He sleeps with women left and right. He knew very well that this was an attempt to manipulate his feelings.

But to be honest? He doesn't care.

The story plays out like normal afterwards. Shiro exposes Maria's plan and she gets sent off to the Vatican for Life imprisonment. Shiro and Mephisto get in the car and they drive off as normal.

However this time, Maria comes out of it pregnant with [F/N].

She was born almost one year before The Blue Night within a holding cell in The Vatican. Her birth was completely unexpected from both the guards as well as Maria, Who was one of the rare cases of not showing at all during a pregnancy.

[F/N] was born fragile and weak, Both doctors and guards believing she would die soon after birth. And on records? That's how it went.

According to The Vatican, The baby died a few hours after being delivered. Shiro was told of the baby's existence while he was caring for the twins.

Of course, At this time he's a different person from who he was a year ago (Post-Blue Night) and now feels shocked and a bit of regret for not knowing of [F/N]'s existence.

However, There wasn't much he could do now.

The baby had died, He couldn't change that.

However despite what the records have said. Some of the staff that were employed to help deliver the child had sworn that they saw a tall man carrying away a baby in his arms. His identity unknown, Hidden by the darkness of the night.

[F/N] was left on the doorstep of the youth centre in Japan without a single note or any clue as to where she came from. The youth centre, After having no parents claim the child, Took her in and raised her within the adoption system.

It's still unclear where her penchant comes from, Though the leading theory is the mixture of demonic influence from both sides of her parents (Maria's being her association with undead demons, Specifically Kin of Astaroth. Shiro's being the fact that he's a clone as well as a bit of satanic influence lingering on him. So much so that in some aspects, You can consider [F/N] somewhat related to Satan in a sort of 3rd parent situation.)

Perhaps you can even consider her not entirely human. Though, That part is up for interpretation.

But as it stands? Her two birth parents are Maria LaMorte and Shiro Fujimoto.

-TML

[mobblespsycho100]

Me: I am so full of love in my heart. peace and love on planet earth 💌💓💕💞💗💝🩷🫶🥰

Some guy who is wrong: Shuro is a bastard ableist neurotypical asshole who HATES laios (my white autism baby boy baby son not a grown man who is friends with him and communicated and stopped fighting him 🥺🥺🥺) and also cis straight alloromantic/allosexual man

Me (suddenly possessed by the spirit of Namari and her epic dwarf fellow daddy issue haver protective fighting spirit autism) : ... CALL AN AMBULANCE, 🚑🚨🩸 BUT NOT FOR ME 💥💥💥🗡️🔪👊🎒👎🦵💪🥋💣🪃🤯🔫🌋‼️⁉️❗‼️ NO MORE MR. NICE GUY LET'S GO TOSHIRO RELEASE UR INATTENTIVE TYPE ADHD + AUTISM + ANXIETY ASIAN ELDEST SON (DAUGHTER) RAGE RAHHHH 🗣️⚔️🗣️🍜🗣️⚔️🗣️🍜🗣️‼️‼️‼️

[kcokaine]

"Runt baby" such great detail. You truly are peak oc creator 🙏

Thank you, have more of runt baby

[sylenth-l]

Asdfghjkl slight spoiler for Final Shape, but there are so many Andal and Hunter Pack mentions so far (even Shiro! How rare). I was practically kicking my feet and I had to come back and look at all of your Andal/Cayde and Hunter Pack art 😊😊

I haven't even loaded in the game yet, but honestly the Bold Endings lore alone made me unwell. Holy shit, they do remember Andal existed 😭😭😭

[autisticlancemcclain]

Could you explain your position on Shallura? Since Allura was established as a teenager when she started dating Lance and Shiro was very clearly an adult. I can understand the bi shiro headcannon but the shallura thing worries me

i am going to remind yall that i have been in this fandom since 2016. and in the early seasons, allura was not established as a teenager. in fact she was coded as older, as closer to shiro's age -- there was a specific divide between her and the younger paladins that she did not have with shiro. they made her younger (both explicitly and in mannerisms) as the show went on. and i do not give a fuck about voltron like...post s4 and i didn't even watch s7-8. so like. especially with older fics, im going to enjoy shallura.

[klanced]

what do you think keith's cooking skills would be. i think that when krolia reunites with him on the space whale she's like "autism be damned my boy can work a grill" (texan) but also in a much more real sense i think he would be terrible at cooking. i don't know

anon how does it feel to be the funniest person in the world? i'm just going to incorporate “grill master keith” into my worldview now

i don't think keith is a GREAT cook, but i do think he can cook at least a few decent dishes thanks to Adam’s tutelage <3 like i just know shiro was absolutely fucking up his and adam’s kitchen lmfao… keith had to learn how to cook if he wanted to survive past childhood

keith 100% owes all his limited cooking skills to adam. omg imagine adam asking little keith to help him as his sous chef in the kitchen...

adam: shiro i think we're gonna have to learn how to mealprep

shiro: damn 😔

[studentinpursuitofclouds]

Mousey, I'm sure you've done the reaction of the vanilla and expanded spouses to the farmer's curse from Mr. Qi, but how about the rsv spouses? I'd be curious to see what they'd do about it ~~especially you know who *wink wink nudge nudge*~~ Also ngl I've been trying to come up with more silly ships with the vanilla and mod characters and having a blast in my mind. I've been throwing in Isaac, Jadu, Camilla, and Alesia there too for good measure because I think Isaac especially would suffer with certain characters 😂 istg it's like I'm a dog and he's my chewing toy

Hehee, I wouldn't mind hearing what other funny ships you have in mind 👀👀👀

Sorry for a long reply, it turned out WAY more than I had planned. Anyway, enjoy some headcanon, Lotus! And have a great day! 💕

RSV spouses react to the Qi fruit:

_________________________________________

Ian had been standing still for about two minutes now, keeping his eyes on the strange blue fruit that was ripening in the Farmer's seedbed. Because he could have sworn that the fruit winked at him.... with 'glasses'! And the handyman thought he'd seen it again. But at the third minute, Ian gave up and reckoned he was just wasting time. "I really don't understand anything about farming," Ian told Farmer, kissed them, and went to work.

Daia isn't the type to be surprised by strange magical fruits, flowers and berries. The Ridge Forest alone is filled with interesting plants with unusual properties. But this 'Qi' fruit... Hmph, even she hadn't seen anything like it. Being around this smirking blue fruit makes the ninja feel a tingling sensation on her skin - a sure sign that magic is involved. Oh, she can't wait to ask her dear Farmer to give her the fruit to examine, because she's so curious about it! She wondered if it would interest her Lady too...

"Wow... I knew you are a true professional at farming, hon, but to do something like this..." Honestly, Jeric was delighted at what his partner had grown and horrified at what his partner had grown. Because on the one hand - fruit with a face and sunglasses, that's awesome! And on the other hand.... why? He certainly wouldn't have imagined something like this on his own little farm in Ridgeside Village. And it's unlikely he had the knowledge to grow something like this. "....So, what does it taste like?"

Bryle was ashamed to admit it, but the first thing he did when he stepped onto the farmhouse porch was reflexively draw his service weapon and prepare to defend himself. Because the Governor's slightly sleepy bodyguard mistook the blue-faced crops in sunglasses for invaders or even dark spirits. Having already recovered from his shock and seeing the calm Farmer watering this very crop, Bryle felt that by asking what it was, he would get more questions than answers. So he was like: "Nope, not today" and went back to the farmhouse.

When some time ago Irene had only seen the sprouts with the not yet formed blue fruit, she was even intrigued to see what kind of 'unusual fruit' Farmer had planted and what the crop would taste like. Sweet, or maybe with sour notes? Only when she got the ripe fruit on the kitchen table, the Amethyne's personal chef was no longer so enthusiastic. This... fruits looks like a head and was looking at her. Irene's afraid to even touch the 'Qi' fruit, much less taste it. Her Madame would definitely not want such an.... exotic crop for dinner.

Sean decided it would be a hilarious to wreak havoc in the local social media groups with this fruit. So, with Farmer's permission, he took a picture of the ripened 'Qi fruit', posted the picture to social media without any description, and waited. An hour and a half in and Sean and Farmer were dying of laughter reading people's reactions, all sorts of conspiracy about the harvest and even memes (lol). He was also hoping someone would leave a comment about what the fruit was, because Farmer's explanation of "blue fruit from blue seeds from a blue man" wasn't a very clear answer.

"Alissa, my dear. What is this?" Alissa can't give a clear answer to her mother when she shows her the unusual fruit. It seems to Alissa that her dear spouse Farmer themself does not know the answer to this question. The girl was utterly perplexed, and neither her own knowledge of farming, nor a single book from the library about crops, helped her to find the answer. She hoped that Farmer had not used something harmful to grow this fruit...

"What's this abomination growing in your garden? Why is there foreign magic coming from that thing?" Jio is in full earnest preparing for a defensive pose with his katana, because that 'Qi' fruit looks like it's about to pounce on him and Farmer. Elf doesn't trust this crop, whatever it is in the first place. And when asked how Farmer grew this stuff in the first place, the answer struck Jio like lightning. "You... took strange seeds from a suspicious man and thought it would be a great idea to plant them?" Yeah, It's going to be a long conversation...

Not even strength and persuasion from Farmer will be enough to keep their spouse Maddie from her determination to get into the Water Research Facility & Laboratory with this strange fruit. Because the ginger girl has to find out what it is in the first place! After all, the lab assistant was also watching the process of the Qi fruit's growth, for she was curious about what Farmer was growing. And when the already ripe fruit showed its face with sunglasses, Maddie wants to show it to Aguar to see how to even classify it. Sigh, not Aguar, if he found out there was magic involved...

"Whoa... So creepy... It's like some kind of comic book villain." Phillip kept twisting and twisting the "Qi" fruit in his hands, looking at the "face" of the crop, and even tried to take off the "glasses". It didn't work, however, because it was like they were super glued on. Oh, well. And although the physical therapist is eager to find out what this miracle fruit tastes like, he still wants to take precautions and find some information about the Qi fruit, because maybe it's poisonous???

Blair nearly died laughing when she saw the face of the ripe blue fruit. "Yoba, what a bogeyman!" And how on earth did her partner Farmer manage to grow a fruit with a face like that? Oh, she wants to take a few if Farmer agrees. To taste it? No, the young fisherwoman had thought of a more fun use for this crop.... Such an ugly fruit would definitely be a good way to prank Keahi for the last prank, hee hee hee... Just a harmless joke, Blair promises!

...Anton thought at first that he hadn't fully woken up in the morning, and that he had just imagined a blue face on the kitchen table. Except that when the architect came back from the bathroom already fresh and invigorated from a cold shower, the face had not disappeared from the kitchen table. ...Ok, and then what? How should he even react? And should he even be reacting to this? Because Farmer is not perplexed by the strange fruit in any way, they treat it like a normal apple or banana. ...Alright, then. Anton silently hopes he doesn't get "sunglasses" from this fruit in his portion of salad.

Well done, Farmer, just great! Making Flor nearly faint because they decided to put some ripe Qi fruit on the dinner table before going to bed, without warning the red-haired spouse for doing so. The poor, sleepy girl wanted to drink a glass of water at midnight, but she ended up throwing it all on the floor and screaming, mistaking the fruit for human heads. Now Farmer is ashamed now... And rightly so - they shouldn't scare Flor like that!

Kiarra's face twisted at what she saw. "Honey, you didn't use any fertiliser or seeds from Joja, right? You didn't take anything from them?" Her first guess as to the origin of this strange fruit was immediately the much disliked greedy company with the blue logo. Joja always like to spoil pump vegetables and fruits with all sorts of harmful substances of unknown origin to make them bigger, and as a consequence - to sell them for more money. Even when Farmer explained to her that it wasn't Joja, the girl still remained sceptical. Because it's... not natural. Something is wrong.

Zayne thought that it would be at least tactless and rude of him to voice his first thought out loud when Farmer presented them with the 'fruit of their labours'. Especially since he loved his spouse and knew what a wonderful farmer they are, unrivalled in the entire Republic. But... What is it? The Amethyne family heir has seen some rather unusual and sometimes even strange delicacies on his own dinner table and on the tables of other noble families. But a fruit with a face... Someone, who apparently ordered Farmer to grow the fruit just so, has... a very specific flavour.

"Ew," was Ysabelle's only reaction, and to be honest - many would have agreed with her conclusion about the blue fruit with the snickering face and sunglasses. Even Farmer didn't argue with their partner's opinion about it. Really, ew (no offence, Mr. Qi). The girl simultaneously wants to ask what this fruit is and doesn't want to know anything about it, figuring it will be further questions than answers. People in the hotel have demanded stranger foods and delicacies, so the blue face fruit isn't too much of a shock to her. But still - ew.

"Hmm, why the face?" How does Farmer know, Paula? When they took the assignment from a, ahem, familiar person, they had no idea that the 'Qi fruit' would turn out to be exactly like this - a bit creepy, with a human face (but cool glasses!). The military medic wasn't too surprised by this weird crop (she'd seen much stranger food), and if the fruit wasn't poisonous and wasn't an allergy sufferer's worst nightmare, why not give it a try. "Heh, I wonder if anyone would dare to try this food on a dare"

"No, thank you, my soul. I'm good with an apple," June politely declined as Farmer, having harvested a ripe crop from the greenhouse, brought June a whole basket of different fruits and berries from all seasons to the farmhouse. His favourite apples, strawberries, oranges, pomegranate, a blue fruit with a face- Wait, what? Did he see that right? Yeah, the pianist's eyesight was not deceiving him. Later, he'll be asking Farmer questions about the blue weird fruit. In the meantime, he just wants to enjoy the apple.

When Faye thought of fresh fruit salad, she imagined cutting up a juicy and sweet mango, a ripe, with the sour notes pineapple, a delicious banana, and fill it up it with fresh orange juice. And at the sight of the Qi fruit, the waitress honestly lost her appetite. Is it... really a fruit? Why does it look so scary? It's also smiling... Oh, yuck! Farmer, that fruit winked at her! Brrr! No weird blue fruits on the dinning table, they're scary!

Shiro jumped up sharply, almost scalding hot, when he saw a field of a hundred blue smiling heads from the porch. Everywhere he turned his head, there they were: smiling, the light bouncing off their... Glasses? What the hell is that, anyway? "People want to buy fruit like that? With a scary face?" No, he's not going to try it, and the Farmer isn't advised to either. It doesn't look good, and it probably doesn't taste good anyway- No, Farmer, making this 'Qi' fruit into a smoothie isn't a good idea either... Just don't, please.

Corine never thought people could come up with something like this with crop. Well, she'd seen square watermelons, heart-shaped pears, and even star-shaped peaches on TV. But a melon-sized blue fruit that also had a human face..... Even she didn't expect that. Really, she doesn't understand why the Farmer glued it on. "Oh, I didn't glue the glasses on, dear, they grew with the fruit!" Sorry, the glasses did what?

"No offence, dear, but I'll probably pass." Oh, Farmer didn't grow this fruit for food, but for someone personally? Whew, what a relief... Um, Kenneth didn't mean to be rude or offend Farmer in any way, but the mere thought of that Qi fruit that very much resembled a head being cut with a knife made him cringe and disgusted. The inventor doesn't understand who needs fruit grown in this way, but he's not good at farming, so Kenneth will leave the matter to his spouse.