#short king keith

[autisticlancemcclain]

The air in his apartment is getting staler, and his scalp is starting to ache.

Everything is going to fail, he thinks to himself, unhelpfully. He doesn’t have time to correct himself because he has time for nothing. He barely has time to breathe. People will be coming in less that two hours, and he’s only just begun decorating; at this rate people will arrive and everything will look barren and horrible and boring and of course no one will say it to his face but he can hear how muttered conversations will go on the way home, how everyone will think he’s —

The front doorknob rattles. Lance gasps, a great, heaving breath forcing its way in and out of his lungs, realizing for the first time his hands are trembling too much to hang the tinsel correctly.

“Lance?” calls a voice, familiar and soft and raspy from years of cigarette smoke. “You in the kitchen?”

Lance finds himself frozen in place. His mind has gone completely blank, and he’s become a statue; thoughtless, still, unblinking, unable to process. As if someone has hooked him up to a remote and pressed pause.

Quiet sounds of boots unlacing echo the empty apartment, followed by socked footsteps. Keith appears round the bend of the front hallway, eyebrows knit together in concern, lips pursed.

“…Lance.”

“Everything is falling apart,” Lance blurts. He twitches suddenly, stiff muscles spasming, and the sudden movement rocks the rickety footstool under him. Quick hands flit out to grip his arms before he falls, steadying him on the ground with a soft, “Woah, dude.”

For several moments the only sound is the synched billowing of their breathing. Keith’s hands slide down his biceps to rest on his elbows, squeezing gently. Slowly, dragging through molasses, Lance’s heart begins to slow.

“You’re freaking out,” Keith says. “There is no need to freak out. Take a breather.”

“I don’t have time for any of this,” Lance says, heartbeat picking up again. “I barely finished the last of the food fifteen minutes ago, decorations aren’t out yet, there’s flour all over my clothes and my face is a mess and I haven’t washed my hair —”

Darting out faster than Lance can track, Keith’s hands come to rest on Lance’s cheeks, thumbs brushing under his eyes — rough, warm, startling. Lance stares at him with wide eyes. Keith smiles back, quickly, widely, crookedly; breathtaking. His hair is twisted back neatly, thick and gorgeous, and festive red sparkles line his eyes. Pretty red stones glitter in his ears to match. The gold bands of his thumb rings are cool against Lance’s cheeks, and the chain he got from his mother rests delicately over black knit fabric. The high-cut neckline of his sweater compliments his frame nicely. His jeans are the only pair he has without rips — a pair Lance forced him to get last time they were shopping together.

The air punches right out of Lance’s lungs, and the last of his worries with it. Keith tucks a curl behind his ear, lingering.

“Go shower and get dressed,” he urges, indigo eyes dark and imploring. “Let me help.”

“Okay,” Lance breathes. He doesn’t move.

Keith smiles. He pulls Lance’s face down at the same time that he stands up on his tiptoes, eyes fluttering shut. Their lips press together softly, one, two, three, and then he pulls away.

Lance makes a noise in the back of his throat. His fingers come up to brush the swell of his lip. “What was that for?”

Keith’s eyes flick up at the doorway. Amusement dances across his expression.

Mistletoe, green and white and fragrant, hangs delicately from the door frame.

“Oh,” says Lance, flushing. He remembers, abruptly, the stepladder and falling into Keith’s arms. He becomes hyperaware of the bareness of the rest of the apartment, hardly lived in one month.

“Lance,” Keith says again, noticing the shift in his expression. He slides a hand down and pats his hip. “Go, you walking mess of anxiety. I got this. Get fixed up. Everything will be fine.”

Lance closes his eyes, exhaling shakily, and nods. It’s too late, now. Whether or not things get finished is irrelevant — he can’t very well host a Christmas party in sweatpants and his grossest, most threadbare hoodie. Whatever Keith can manage while he showers will have to be enough.

He rushes off to his room, tearing off his clothes the second the door locks behind him, practically throwing himself under the stream without bothering to wait for it to heat. He rushes through his routine faster than he maybe ever has in his life, toweling off so roughly the first two layers of his skin go with it, and buzzing around his closet like a horde of wasps on a field of decaying grapes.

There is Nothing to wear. Because of course there isn’t. The outfit he’d picked last night suddenly seems inadequate, and most of his other stuff is still boxed up, so he doesn’t even have the time to go digging. Eventually he just throws on what he’d planned and tells himself to get over it.

Forty-five minutes have passed, by the time he steps out of his bedroom, and the state of his apartment makes him gasp.

String lights are hung delicately along the walls and wrapped around his small tree. Ornaments and decorations sit artistically on every surface, as if each placement was deliberated and perfected. Paper snowflakes, even, that Lance had made in a fit of procrastination to avoid work weeks ago, are hung from the ceiling. Keith stands on the same footstool Lance tumbled from earlier, hanging a few more.

“Keith,” Lance chokes out. “Oh my God.”

His friend shoots him a grin. “What, surprised? I told you I’d handle it. Don’t you trust me?”

“Of course I do.” Lance swallows as the words come out on reflex, heavier than he’d ever usually let them. “I just.” He looks pointedly away from where Keith stretches his arms above him, thin paper held delicately between his thick fingers, sweater raising to show a strip of pale skin. “I appreciate it, is all. Turns out you do have some taste, Mullet.”

“Asshole,” Keith huffs.

But he’s smiling.

They spend the next twenty minutes in comfortable silence, putting up the last of the decorations and plating up the last of the food. Lance doesn’t need to say, I should have asked for help from the beginning. Doesn’t need to say, I’ve missed being close to everyone, being a real adult is hard, finally finishing school and growing into a new phase of adulthood, away from all the people I’ve grown up with, is hard. I had to prove I’m handling it. Doesn’t bother admitting, I couldn’t have done it on my own. Thank you for knowing me enough to come even if I couldn’t ask.

Keith brushes his hand on the small of his back as he walks by. Lance smiles, shy and pleased, and sinks into the comfort of Keith knowing, of Keith knowing him; of the proof of their familiarity despite all the new changes. He sighs, long and silent and heavy, something settling in his bones.

When the doorbell rings, and the rest of his friends start pouring in, he’s ready for them.

———

Hours later his giggly and red-cheeked and a little bit tipsy. Pidge brought bottles of liquor and Allura brought novelty shot glasses, and the rest of that story wrote itself. Lance lost count somewhere between Hunk slicing up the honeyed ham he brought and Shiro busting out the Twister. Cheesy Christmas songs have been looping for hours on Veronica’s CD player, and the air smells of plátanos a sweet-smelling incense Adam pulled out, and Lance is drunk on more than just the booze.

“The place looks great!” shouts Shiro, not particularly because it’s loud in here. He looks pretty red-cheeked, too, glass of wine tucked protectively to his chest. Adam watched him in amusement, arms half-raised in preparation for his clumsiness.

“Keith helped,” Lance admits, just as loud. Their shouted conversation draws teasing glances from the rest of their friends, but for once Lance isn’t self-conscious of the stares on him.

They’re drunk. It’s Christmas. Who cares?

“Speaking of, where is Keith?”

Lance frowns. He blinks some of the dizziness out of his eyes — he truly needs to stop walking around, there was way more rum in that daiquiri than he thought, typical Matt — and scans the crowd of people shoved into his tiny apartment. He would recognize that mullet anywhere and from any angle, and it is not currently among the masses.

“Hm,” he says out loud, and wobbles off.

The first place he checks is his bedroom. It’s locked, but he knows Keith can pick a lock and also has no qualms about picking the lock for Lance’s bedroom, because he was raised by wolves. He’s not in there, though, so Lance pivots to checking the bathroom — occupied by Kinkade and Rizavi who are busy sucking face — and the weird little linen closet tucked in a random alcove, which is empty. Keith is, strangely, nowhere to be found, but he couldn’t’ve just — left, right? He would have said goodbye.

Lance pouts. He hopes he would have, because Lance’s emotions are Compromised right now, okay, and if he gets sad he’s going to get sad for real. And Keith leaving just like that will, indeed, make him sad as shit.

“I need t’clear my head,” he mumbles to himself. He pushes through the tight circle Allura, Pidge, and Veronica have formed — he does not want to know, it might be actual witchcraft knowing them — to make his way to Hunk, tugging on his sleeve to pull his attention away from Shay.

“‘M gonna go get air.”

“Don’t die,” Hunks says. Lance nods, moving to stumble away, but Hunk grabs his sleeve and tugs him back. “No, wait, drink this, buddy. Else you’re going to walk into a wall and we’re going to end up in the ER on Christmas again.”

Lance dutifully chugs the three separate glasses of water Hunk hands him, realizing suddenly that he’s parched. By the end of them and also a banana Hunk has him eat, his head has miraculously stopped spinning.

“Hunk,” he says in total seriousness, “I love you. Deeply. From the bottom of my soul.”

Hunk rolls his eyes fondly and presses a kiss to the top of Lance’s head. “I know, you doofus. Begone.”

Lance snickers and heeds his command. As he closes the apartment door behind him, shutting out the noise with it, he breathes a huge sigh of relief. He hadn’t realized how overwhelmed he’d been getting, as much as he’d been having fun.

He understands, immediately, where Keith has gone. He huffs a smile.

“Goober,” he says around a smile, and jogs to the stairwell.

———

A sobering seven flights later, he pushes open the door to the roof, panting breaths turning to steam in the frosty air.

“You are elusive, you fucker.”

Keith looks over his shoulder, smiling in that quick way he does. “And you’re tipsy.”

“Nuh uh! Hunk made me drink water!”

“Right, and that undoes the six shots you took when Pidge dared you.”

“Obviously.”

Keith laughs, a little, and Lance preens like he’s won the whole lottery. Keith most definitely notices. Lance can’t bring himself to care.

“C’mon, let’s sit somewhere not so close to the edge. Knowing your shit luck you’ll go careening over the edge and I’ll have to jump after your dumb ass.”

Ignoring how that makes his heart pound, Lance shoots back, “That wouldn’t solve anything, stupid, we’d just both be dead.”

“A very Merry Christmas to us both, then.”

Keith finally finds a spot on the ground that’s mostly clear of snow and only a little wet. He plops himself down. Lance grimaces, looking down at his expensive and shimmery black slacks before sitting down beside him.

“You good?” Lance asks after a moment.

Keith lets out a breath. “Yeah, it was just getting to be a lot in there.”

“That’s ‘cause you’re basically a cat in human form. Surprised you didn’t bite anyone on your way out.”

“Oh, shut up.”

“Make me.”

Keith looks over, eyebrows raised. A smile twitches at the corner of his mouth.

“That was very transparent, you know.”

Lance shrugs, not bothering to hide his own smile.

“Hey, you’re the one who kissed me. Not my fault I’m thinking about it.”

“You think I kissed you to shut you up?”

“A little.”

Keith holds his gaze, challenging. Lance crosses his eyes. Keith snorts, punching him in the shoulder.

Heh. Success.

“I didn’t kiss you to shut you up, you goober. I kissed you because I wanted to.”

“…Did you maybe want to again?”

Now it’s Keith’s turn for his smile to turn shy, for a slight flush to rise on his cheeks. Lance’s own cheeks hurt from grinning.

“No mistletoe up here. Not sure I have an excuse this time.”

“Aha, but that’s where you’re wrong.” Lance digs in his pockets until he finds the little sprig, plucked from when he and Hunk were caught under the doorway sometime after shot number five. He holds it up between them.

Keith’s smile grows. “You really are a genuine actual goober.”

“You seem to like it,” Lance says cheekily.

“It’s fine, I guess. If I had to live with it.”

“Mhm.” Keith’s hand has snaked its way around Lance’s neck. Lance’s own hands are planted firmly on the ground between them, keeping him balanced as he leans closer, closer, closer. “Is that the case.”

“Yeah,” Keith breathes, and then he doesn’t bother with anything else, closing the distance between them. “Merry Christmas.”

Lance sighs into his mouth, tilting his head as their mouths move, as Keith’s long eyelashes tickle his cheek. Merry Christmas, indeed.

———

based on this art by @mothmanavenue

[thesimpinquestion]

Anyone else?

[jacksonlandgraab]

[soadscrawl]

I've always wanted to see more of Keith and Pidge's relationship from the show (lookin at you voltron writers).

BUTTT personally, I think the short arses would have very... creative ways of getting around the castle.

Fridge hopping is a must.

short kings stick together

[novelistwriter]

The Family of Halfa's

DP x DC Prompt (With other Fandoms, this prompt was inspired by "Wished Away Series")

Danny and Wes had been together for a while. Wes was, at first, not considered part of his friend group, but as time went on, Wes integrated himself as part of Team Phantom.

Now that Wes was a full ghost, and the Consort to Danny, as he is the Ghost King, Clockwork had decided that the Halfa and his Consort are the perfect option to raise the souls of those the Time Ghost takes pity on as new Halfa's with a new start, meaning these souls don't have the memories of their past lives, but powers and such related to their previous lives.

The oldest of the reborn souls they got was a boy named Adrian Agreste, but not any Adrian, the Cat Blanc Adrian, who was plucked from his timeline before it was erased and offered a second chance at life. His power is still destruction, but only when he is feeling intense negative emotions.

The second oldest, who came a few years after Adrian, was named Callum, a boy who died at the hands of the Sunfire Elves before help had arrived. He doesn't have any unique powers but is adept at the Arcane Arts than any (fully) living person.

A few months later, another soul was given to them. His name was Eli Shane, and he perished in the Eastern Caverns during the battle with the Emperor. Eli's powers allow him to access 5 elements, with him limited to one until he switches to another, Fire, Air, Earth, Water, and Energy. And because of Junjie, Eli's other Ghost Power allows him to learn any martial arts much quicker than any being.

After a year, another soul was given to them, one of a courageous young man named Link who stopped a Demon King but suffered too many injuries to be saved. His power is time related, but not too powerful. If he dodges an attack at the last second, he is able to move faster than anyone to attack his opponent for a short duration.

2 more years later, two souls were given to Danny and Wes, Keith and Lance, who perished at the hands of a mysterious foe while giving their team time to escape. Their powers are similar yet different at the same time. They both can summon spectral lions, but Keith's is red and has fire powers, while Lance's are blue and have water related powers.

Finally, 3 years later, Danny and Wes are given 5 souls of kids, kids who died participating in a war to stop a bad guy. Aang died fighting Ozai. Zuko and Katara died in the Agni kai against Azula. Toph and Sokka died when the Airship they were on crashed in the sea before Suki could arrive on time. Aang has air and animal related powers, Katara has water and ice powers, Zuko has fire and electricity powers, and Toph has earth and metal powers, Sokka doesn't have any unique powers, but is a natural leader and adept at learning how to use any type of weapon.

After the Quintuplets were reborn from Danny, the rest of the souls were as well, as Danny needed to host their cores to have them reborn as Halfa's, Danny and Wes thought that they needed to live in a dimension, and not the Keep Danny inherited, as Danny and the reborn Halfa's need to eat regular food as well ad needing Ectoplasm, and so the kids could interact with other living people and not just the Ghosts in the Infinite Realms. So they chose a random dimension with a lot of Heroes to live in, with Clockwork giving Wes a new body to be a Halfa himself.

And now the family made of all Halfa's is living in a place called Gotham, a Gothic City with enough ambient ectoplasm as Amity, but they had caught the attention of the Vigilantes of the City, as the entire family are Alternates to the people of the dimension.

Danny is an alternate younger Jason Todd, but not as Buff. Wes is an alternate younger Roy Harper, also not as buff. Adrian is an alternate Dinah Lance. Callum is an alternate and younger Hal Jordan. Eli is an alternate Lady Shiva. Link is an alternate and younger Barry Allen. Keith is an alternate Jon Kent. Lance is an alternate Damian Wayne. Aang is an alternate and younger Bruce Wayne. Katara and Sokka are alternates to Dick Grayson. Toph is an alternate and younger Cassandra Cain. Finally, Zuko is an alternate and younger Tim Drake.

[sammaggs]

1x02 Diefenbaker’s Day Off // 2x08 One Good Man // 2x13 White Men Can’t Jump to Conclusions // 3x01 Burning Down the House | Normalized

due South does a main character re-casting better than any other show on TV, and they do it by playing with television's own accepted meta-narrative.

Recasting a character has a long tradition in television, creating a viewership that knows and understands the storytelling short form at play. As viewers, we realize that sometimes actors aren't available to reprise a role (or simply aren't interested in it anymore); but, for the sake of the story, sometimes the show needs that character to come back. So we lean hard into suspended disbelief and just go with it. After all, the characters in the show accept the parareality of it—why shouldn't we?

Of course, the most famous example of a character recast would be the Dick/Darren disaster on 1960s sitcom Bewitched, when Dick York was unceremoniously replaced by Dick Sargent in the role of Darrin Stephens. ("The Dick Wars" would have gone absolutely insane).

it was... not successful

But they weren't the only ones to do it. Aunt Viv from Fresh Prince, Becky from Roseanne, Daario Naharis from Game of Thrones, Greg Serrano from Crazy Ex-Girlfriend (pain, agony)—recasting characters but maintaining the fiction is a storied tradition in TV. New actor, same character; totally normalized.

And shows continue to do it, even today, with a—uh—similar dedication to fucking it up doing it poorly.

why must we be punished like this

due South even engages in this trope itself in season 2, when hard-hitting investigative journalist Mackenzie King is recast and they don't even try to find an actress who looks similar. In 1x02 Diefenbaker's Day Off, she's played by brunette Madolyn Smith-Osborne; in 2x08 One Good Man, she's been replaced by blonde Maria Bello, and nobody talks about it.

yeah i'm absolutely the same person, obviously

Everyone diegetically (within the world of the show) is just like, oh yeah, that's hard-hitting investigative journalist Mackenzie King. Totally. Only non-diegetically (outside of the world of the show) does the viewer go "No, that's not the same person." Internally, the fiction proceeds as usual.

So what would happen if, say, Samantha Stephens turned to Dick Sargent and said "You're not Darrin," when everyone else in the show continued to treat him as though he was? Or if Jaskier told Geralt that he knows he's not actually Geralt, and everyone treated him like he was delusional?

Or if Fraser, even, had recognized Mackenzie King as someone entirely different, and everyone treated him like he had a hole in his bag of marbles because of it? Of course that's Mackenzie King; even her boss knows it. No, she's never been a brunette. What are you talking about?

And that's exactly what happens in Burning Down the House.

the rays vecchio

Diagetically, everyone else treats Callum Keith Rennie's character as though he is Ray Vecchio. "Oh, good, you found him," says Det. Huey. Elaine, Franchesca, literally everyone else both at the station and outside of it treat Callum Keith Rennie Ray Vecchio as though he is David Marciano Ray Vecchio. They're acting exactly as any other TV character would in the face of a recasting: as though absolutely nothing had happened.

Except for Fraser.

Fraser's specific brand of parareal Canadian plot magic means that he's immune to the recasting blindness; he's acting as an agent of the viewer, voicing our non-diegetic concerns. Fraser is (as he so often is) a character with one foot outside of the narrative. He's just always been like this and he doesn't know why.

oh this man is infuriating and hot, fuck. shit.

And for a character who already thinks he is likely insane (he sees the ghost of his dead father! He communicates with his deaf half-wolf! He is instantly committed to a mental institution upon voicing the actual true story of his life!), this is very extremely distressing. Fraser thinks he's actually lost it this time, because everyone else in due South is acting like a TV character, and Benton Fraser is acting like a viewer.

This is so brilliant on so many levels. They just fully lampshade the damn thing. It allows our protagonist to speak for disgruntled or confused viewers. It engages at a postmodern level with television as a medium with a storied history (and due South is incredibly postmodern; nearly every episode is or contains a reference to another piece of media). It's written from the perspective of someone who loves and is knowledgeable about TV tropes.

And it gives us an entirely new Ray while still maintaining respect and loyalty to the original, something no other straight (lol) recast could ever do.

Genuinely one of the most clever, witty, well-crafted hours of television ever made. I could write essays about so many different parts of it. And I guess I will!!!!!!

It’s Burning Down the House week in our dS Stacked Rewatch!

[irkimatsu]

Huskposting Masterlist

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

A masterlist of all of my interesting fics and headcanon posts, so you don't have to scroll through all the two-sentence bullshit gumming up the Huskposting tag! NSFW pieces are marked as such. Fics, headcanons, song assignments, and other assorted tidbits that I think are worth looking at more than five minutes after I posted them.

Full Fics:

"If You're Lucky" - After losing a bet with Overlord Husk, the demon asks to have his way with you as your part of the deal. Originally intended as a standalone, I intend to turn this into a collection with a story arc eventually. NSFW!

"Teasing A Beast" - Oneshot where reader stripteases for Husk and then they have rough sex. Short, sweet, to the point. Reader has breasts and vagina. NSFW!

Headcanons:

Husk and one-night-stands in life

Musing about Husk's death

NSFW Heacanons

couple assorted SFW headcanons

Husk as an absent father

Headcanons going through Husk's life, up to his death

Husk nuzzling you so you smell like him

Husk's coping mechanism! (it's not great)

does he hate the name Husker?

he's too drunk to perform

Husk and religion

hehehe claw sucking

a reason for Overlord Husk to be fat

a magic trick goes wrong

assorted Overlord Husk horniness (NSFW!)

Husk's fluctuating weight

speculation about Husk and Alastor

possible future chapters of "If You're Lucky" (NSFW!)

Husk, US history, and legal gambling and alcohol

This man cannot fucking cook

Dominant Husk headcanons

Music (song links go to Tumblr posts that may or may not provide context for why I picked that song):

Full playlist

"Fallen Down" by Assemblage 23

"Forever 2013" by Bruderschaft

"Complex" by Dreams Divide

"The Modern Leper" by Frightened Rabbit

"Drown" by Imperative Reaction

"I Don't Remember" by Northern Lite

"Casino" by Toby Ash

I keep picking songs about drowning...

Drabbles:

Husk gushing about his S/O (centered around my self-insert, this was for me, sorry)

dancing with Husk in his room

dancing with Husk at a hotel party

playing with Husk's wings (NSFW!)

Husk dialogue during sex (NSFW!)

riding Husk (NSFW!)

Husk taking the lead with you (NSFW!)

Alastor interrupts (NSFW!)

Husk and the word "love"

to be Overlord Husk's spoiled pet...

massaging Husk's chest

more about being Overlord Husk's pet

Yandere Overlord Husk

Husk with a childhood friend of Alastor's

rough sex, Husk catching feelings

Other:

WHICH ONE OF YOU WOULD FUCK THIS OLD MAN

some cool t-shirts I yoinked from the fan Wiki

me infodumping to an outsider with Wiki facts

that line from Finale that itches my brain so good

you fuck wrinkly ass cats stop fucking submitting it

official Valentine's Day card

"Sober" cover by Paranoid DJ (not on my playlist but still worth a look)

FOXY GRANDPA

the first appearance of the phrase "cat nipples". get used to it

Keith David singing "LOVE" by Nat King Cole

me making terrible daddy jokes

my excuse for everything that happens on this blog anymore

[demon-witch-cat]

Keith in different outfits for different scenes!

First fully colored drawing i do in a while, and I make a few outfit designs for Keith in my AU! That feels on brand for me, but also, LOOK AT MY SWEET BOY!

First, his outfit for King Gristle and Bridget's wedding. I gave him a purple sparkly vest to match Branch, then matching leg warmers. On top of that, I gave him a bunch of flowers in his hair(each color represents his parents) because I thought he might be co-flower boy with Tiny. Forgetting there's also ring bearers

Next, an outfit for the Pop Medley in Lonesome Flats. I wasn’t sure what to do outside of the glasses and giving him sparkly shorts. Plus, I brightened his hair a bit and gave him a flower earring (I've been giving him w flower theme).

Lastly, we've got him all ready for the holidays! With a simple green scarf, and a red & white pair of earmuffs. This could count for either holiday special, but I did it with the first one in mind.

What do you guys think? My favorite is his wedding outfit (^m^ )

[sonekwi]

☆ ⸻ the white paladin, keith x reader

chapter six: so sorry, pidge!

characters/pairings: keith kogane, female reader

genre: fanfiction

summary: keith invites you to spar with him, and poor pidge walks in on something rather questionable.

word count: 1,596

links: previous, next, wattpad, masterlist

a/n: i'm so sorry for being gone for a month! i wrote a shorter chapter this time to stand in as a filler, next one will be the usual 3,000+ words. thanks for reading though, i hope you enjoy!

A week has gone by and you find yourself missing Earth more with each passing day. The team managed to form Voltron again and you've been training with them as much as you can, but no matter how busy you try to keep yourself, your mind always finds its way back to Earth. When it does, homesickness grabs you and doesn't let go.

You and Lance often find each other at the end of the day and sit in each other's company. Even if your brother is in a good mood and smiling when he's around the team, you know that facade disappears when everyone's gone. You both miss your family more than anything, but having each other makes it a little bit better.

You spend your time in the White Lion's hangar whenever you're not training or sleeping. You'll sit on the floor, leaning against its massive, metal paws, simply talking about whatever is on your mind. You haven't gotten around to asking Coran about the mysterious Lion yet, still wondering why King Alfor would hide it away. When you ask the White Lion directly, the answers feel cryptic and unclear, as if it doesn't know itself.

Footsteps echo along the tall walls of the hangar and you look up from the small gadget in your hands. Pidge had asked your help with it, knowing that you had taken a couple of engineering and computer science classes at the Garrison. So far, you haven't been able to get anywhere with it.

Keith walks over to you, his bayard in his hand and dressed in clothes fit for exercising. You look him up and down, your heart beating anxiously in your chest. It takes everything in your power to keep a calm exterior. You don't know what you would do if he found out about your little crush on him.

"I'm heading to the training deck," he announces, "Do you want to join? I could use a sparring partner."

You can't help yourself from suddenly fantasizing about the various scenarios that could happen, nearly all of them involving a sweaty, panting Keith who takes off his shirt. You quickly feel a flustered heat rising to your neck and face, and honestly, you should be ashamed of yourself. He is your friend, and will probably only ever be your friend.

As you stand, you shove the thoughts and rising embarrassment away, excitedly accepting Keith's offer, "Sure! I'll go get my bayard."

After being scolded by Allura for the umpteenth time for not keeping it nearby, you only had to walk across the hangar to retrieve it. Once the cool metal of the handle is within your grasp, the weapon materializes into its scythe form. You test the weight of it in your hand as you turn back to Keith.

     "Alright, let's go!" you smile.

     As you and Keith make your way to the training deck, you try your best not to stare at him. It's a short walk, thankfully, and you don't have to fight yourself for very long.

     "What are you thinking? Weapons, no weapons?" you ask as you step further into the room. It's wide and open, and you've gotten familiar with the space after spending most of your time here. You can almost hear Allura's voice still echoing off the walls.

     "We can start with no weapons," Keith says and sets his bayard down on the floor. He takes off his jacket as well, your eyes not-so-discreetly watching him. When he looks at you, you shamefully avert your gaze.

     Focus, (y/n)! He's your friend! You scold yourself, rubbing the back of your neck with embarrassment. You can practically feel the heat rising off of it.

     Keith places himself in the center of the room and stretches as he waits for you. You set your bayard near his and roll your shoulders. When you start before Keith, you bring your fists up and ask, "Do you want to count down–"

     Keith moves fast and you barely manage to block the attack. Your arm throb at the impact, and you glare at him. "Oh, it's so on."

     Your friend only chuckles, and the two of you quickly settle into your sparring match. You don't hold back, making Keith work for his victory if he wants it.

     Memories of the Garrison pop up in your mind. You and Keith would often train together after class. Sometimes well into the night before a faculty member would kick you out of the gym, chewing you out for being out past curfew.

     Even back then, you were fighting your feelings for him. You tried to convince yourself you only admired and adored him so much because he was your friend. It worked, for a short while, until he dropped from the Garrison. At that point, your anger overpowered your hopeless crush.

     Your reminiscing distracts you, and Keith knocks you on your feet and pins you down. He sits on top of you, holding your hands above your head, his legs straddling your hips to keep you from rolling. As you stare at him with wide eyes, the panting, sweaty sight of him makes your cheeks burn.

     He stares back at you as his grip on your wrists tightens. "Do you yield?" he asks, a proud grin spreading on his face.

     It was a simple question he would always ask when he had you pinned, restrained, or disarmed, even if he knew you wouldn't. But the tone of his voice was different this time...

     His eyes flick down for a second before returning to yours. Your flustered thoughts race faster, knowing exactly what he glanced at. You panic, and your heart feels like it's going to burst out of your chest.

     "Hey, guys? Shiro wants us–"

     You and Keith look toward the door.

     Pidge stands there, silently wishing to crawl into a hole as he tries to figure out what he just walked in on. But then he promptly turns to leave, "You know what? I don't even want to know. Just change and meet us on the bridge."

     Immediately, you push Keith off and scramble to your feet. You run your hands over your face and stride over to your bayard. "He is never going to let us live that down," you say.

     "I don't know, he looked like he probably never wants to bring it up. Ever," Keith says.

     "Wanna bet?" you ask.

     "Knowing you, you'd try to make the odds in your favor," Keith shakes his head, feigning disappointment. But you catch the small tug on the corners of his lips.

     "You're right," you chuckle. "I so would."

⁀➷

Standing on the bridge, you look around at the glass panels lining every inch of the room. The sky is a beautiful baby blue with soft and fluffy clouds drifting past, and your mind wanders to Earth as you watch.

Shiro's words unfortunately go through one ear and out the other, and it doesn't go unnoticed. But even after he promptly scolds you, you still don't pay attention. That familiar weight in your chest sinks in, and you stare down at your feet with dejection.

Homesickness is a bitch.

A hand brushes against yours, the contact bringing you back to reality. Beside you, Keith keeps his attention on Shiro as one of his fingers hooks yours. You smile softly, remembering your friend's words from a few days ago.

He kept true on his promise.

The next few hours are spent doing team bonding exercises again with Allura, Coran, or Shiro failing to direct the ragtag group of teenagers. You give them the benefit of the doubt, though, because you yourself have no idea what you are doing. The White Lion had finally started acting as if something were wrong, and you struggled to keep your control over it.

But as lunch rolls around, the White Lion is more than happy to listen to you for once as you bring it back to its hangar. You are more than happy, too. You can feel a headache coming on while you listen to Lance and Keith bicker over the comms. The former had tried kicking a ruined Galra ship like a soccer ball, ultimately knocking Voltron on its ass from the lack of balance.

Part of you is grateful you were crucial to forming Voltron. You would probably go insane.

You're already sitting in the dining room waiting for Coran's "nutritious Paladin meal" when the others enter. Lance and Keith are still arguing, and you groan as you rub your temple, hoping to dull the sharp throbbing.

"Alright, save your energy for fighting Zarkon!" Shiro barks and the two boys effectively shut up. However, as they sit down, they resort to silently glaring at each other.

With Lance sitting beside you, you kick his shin and grumble, "Stop acting like a child."

"I'm not! Keith started it!" your brother argues.

Keith rolls his eyes. "Whatever you say."

Lance irks at the comment, but you manage to slap a hand over his mouth before he says anything back. He glares at you, and you cuss as he drags his tongue over your palm.

"You are so gross!" you hiss, wiping your spit-covered hand on your brother's armor.

"Hey!" he barks.

"It's your spit!"

Shiro snaps. "What did I just say!?"

[jovenshires]

THE BATTLE OF THE BANDS AU OFFICIAL SOUNDTRACK

THE BEST OF THE CHOSEN

the chosen is an alternative rock band, whose members are spencer agnew (lead singer / secondary guitarist), shayne topp (lead guitarist), damien haas (bassist / vocalist), and courtney miller (drummer / vocalist). known for their iconic guitar riffs and heavy bass lines, the band has been accused of relying heavily on their instrumentals to distract from their lead singer's vocal insecurity, to which they have not disagreed. hit songs include "short kings," "i was there man," and "nuclear rain." the band is inspired by the early 2000's alternative movement, specifically weezer, green day, and simple plan.

THE BEST OF FTC

ftc (short for full-time cast) is an indie trio known for their slow melodies and sad lyrics. their songs, typically written by their lead singer tommy bowe, are often explicitly queer, romantic, and yearning, though they also frequently feature themes of self-doubt and internal struggle. other members of the band are amanda lehan-canto (singer / guitarist) and kimmy jimenez (drummer / occasional background singer). with songs such as "creekside killer," "reading of the will," and "bones," ftc is inspired by artists such as boygenius, hozier, and mitski.

THE BEST OF KOLIVTION

kolivition is a hip-hop duo fronted by keith leak jr. (singer / rapper) and backed by olivia sui (pianist / dj / sound mixer). they incorporate r&b, funk, and rap into their music as well, with their soulful beats and psychedelic sounds. kolivition's songs typically revolve around romance in the modern world. the duo's hit songs include "life's a party," "give me all your money," and "bobby from the block." kolivition is inspired by childish gambino, frank ocean, and kendrick lamar.

THE BEST OF COVENTRY

coventry is a female-led punk band consisting of erin dougal (singer / guitarist), heidi ha (singer / drummer), and selina garcia (singer / bassist). they typically theme their songs around female empowerment and relationships - romantic, platonic, or otherwise. their hit songs include "sluts," "sunflower," and "wish i could (say the same)." they are inspired by paramore, no doubt, and veruca salt.

THE BEST OF LET'S DO THIS

let's do this, though a relatively new band, is an enthusiastic underdog pop trio. its members, chanse mccrary (lead singer / guitarist), angela giarratana (bassist / vocalist), and arasha lalani (drummer / vocalist), are clearly tuned into the pop scene and thus make current, upbeat, snappy music that is practically made for the radio, even if it's yet to take off. their songs rely heavily on romance, and are often either explicitly queer or gender-neutral. their top tracks are "i lied," "lost the room," and "coroner." ldt is based off of artists such as conan gray, maisie peters, and troye sivan.

THE BEST OF SMOSH

smosh is a moden reinvention of an early 2000's pop-punk / alternative duo. back after a 6-year hiatus and preparing to win a competition they've already lost, ian hecox (singer / bassist), anthony padilla (singer), and their rotating backup band are re-entering both battle of the bands and mainstream. their music centers around personal identity and how that identity affects one's relationships. though they are re-inventing their sound, smosh was and is still known for their heavy instrumentals and all-star vocals. hit songs include "shut up," "the sun," and "destiny," and the band was based off of twenty one pilots, fall out boy, and panic! at the disco.

THE BEST OF JACKIE UWEH

jackie uweh - also known as the most talented voice of our generation - is an r&b / soul singer who sells out football stadiums with her powerhouse vocals. her songs often feature themes of feminism, romantic relationships, and a continuous journey of self-discovery. this is her first year judging battle of the bands, and, according to her, hopefully not her last. jackie's hit songs include "buggin'," "over easy," and "been with." she is inspired by beyonce, rhianna, and lizzo.

THE BEST OF MYTHICAL

mythical, which consists of rhett mclaughlin (singer / guitarist) and link neal (singer / guitarist) and their fantastic backing band, is a country band notable for having won battle of the bands ten years ago. since then, they have created their own empire, complete with a record label and several signed artist - previously including ian hecox of smosh fame. though they are a country band, mythical is also known to incorporate alternative genres into their music, especially their most recent album, which has been by far their most controversial in terms of sound. their musical themes vary, sometimes instead focusing on story-telling rather than relatability, but typically they utilize love (romantic, platonic, and familial), religion, and self-expression and exploration. their songs include "will it?," "buddy system," and "let's talk about that." they are inspired by james and the shame, noah kahan, and the lumineers.

THE BEST OF TREVOR

trevor (that's it, just trevor) is a soundcloud-based rapper who's honestly just happy to be here. an up-and-coming (read: thus unsuccessful) artist, trevor is a part-time musician and a part-time sound designer and editor. after working on mythical's latest album, he was invited to emcee the battle of the bands and is ecstatic at the chance to promote himself. trevor focuses on the self-described subgenre "meme rap," which views modern life through a comical gen z lens. his songs include "another banger," "silly guy," and "o7," and he is based on yung gravy, yungblud, and danny gonzalez.

[fizoda]

lotor looks extremely altean other the fact he has purple skin

Galra genes are weak asf when it comes to cross-breeding

stop drawing keith taller than lance you fools. can’t believe i need to start this crusade again

[cookiescribble]

Flufftober Day 9: “Don’t Do That!” “But…”

(gif source)

A/N: we've been wanting to write a steddie fic for a long time and we finally got around to it!! clueless bisexual awakening steve is my favorite steve, so i had to put that in there 🫶🏻 - mod angel

p.s. i really enjoyed writing this with bestie, hope you guys enjoy it!! - mod ghost

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Eddie Munson

Summary: Eddie has a proposal that makes Steve question what he wants (and Robin is there to help him think through it).

~~~

It was a slow day at Family Video, typical for the middle of a weekday. Steve and Robin had been keeping each other entertained all day. As it neared the time that high school usually let out, they were hard at work to set up today’s display. 

“I think it’s a good idea to put out Ferris Bueller’s Day Off,” Steve was arguing. “Really? And not the classic that is Labyrinth? I’m personally offended, Steven,” Robin scoffed, putting more VHS tapes on the shelf.

“How can something be a ‘classic’ if it only came out like, four months ago??” “Have you seen it?” Steve paused for a moment, before muttering a quiet “...no.” “EXACTLY!” Robin threw up her hands, the way she did when she was passionate about things. “So you cannot argue with me about this.”

Steve rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. “I can’t argue with you about anything, can I?”

“No,” Robin nodded. “You can’t.”

“Fine. Can we at least put both of them up?” Steve asked, shrugging. “Appeal to a wider audience, or whatever Keith told us to do.” “Are you just saying that because you want Ferris on here?” “Robin.” 

Robin sighed dramatically. “I guess we can put them both up.”

The two began setting up the main display, still arguing the whole time they did so.

Steve had lost track of the time when he heard the front door open with a ding! He looked up to see Eddie Munson walking through the door, holding a tower of VHS tapes. 

“Harrington!” Eddie chimed. “Just the man I wanted to see!” He reached the front desk and carefully placed the tower of tapes down, which immediately fell over and sent all the tapes hurtling towards Steve.

Steve reacted as quickly as he could, catching a few of the tapes while the others landed at his feet. “Great,” he said, his tone deadpan. “Thanks.”

“No problem, Stevie,” Eddie winked, placing his elbow on the desk and holding his chin in his hand. “Just had to get the tapes back on time.”

He started to wander towards the display Steve and Robin had set up earlier. “Hey, Labyrinth! I love that movie.” He started to pick up the tape, knocking over Ferris Bueller as he did.

Steve groaned, quickly walking over to the display. “Don’t do that! We worked on that display all day!”

“But I wanted to see about renting Labyrinth,” Eddie whined.

Steve pinched the bridge of his nose. “Can I deal with the tapes you brought back before you start taking more out?”

Eddie bowed dramatically. “Of course. Go ahead, o’ king of the video tapes.”

Steve rolled his eyes, going back to the front desk and typing into the computer. “Eddie, all of these tapes are at least a week late.”

“I’m a busy man, what can I say?” Eddie shrugged, walking towards Steve at the desk, leaning forwards.

“...Busy enough to be in your senior year for the fourth time?” Steve raised an eyebrow at him, crossing his arms for the second time that morning. “Alright, smartass,” Eddie rolled his eyes. “What do you want me to do about it?” “You have to pay the late fees for these,” Steve explained. Eddie let out a long breath, tapping his fingers on the table, his rings making a clinking sound as they clanged together. “Well, what if I told you I’m short on cash right now, buuuut I’ll take you on a date if you cover me?” He batted his eyelashes, giving Steve his best puppy dog eyes.

“...But we’re both guys,” Steve replied, confused, his brows furrowed. A snicker from Robin was heard from somewhere deep in the store.

“Okaay,” Eddie raised his eyebrows slightly, giving Steve a pointed look. “But putting that aside for a second, do you like me?” 

“Uuhhh…yeah?” Steve shrugged. “Why do I feel like you’re somehow still not understanding this?” Eddie rubbed his face with his hand. “‘Cause I’m not.” “And I’m the one in senior year still?” Eddie crossed his arms. “What?” Steve replied, still sounding very confused. “Never mind, just,” Eddie took a deep breath here before continuing. “Think about it.”

Steve took a moment of just standing there to think about how Eddie made him feel. It was different to how he felt about Robin, but it was also different from his only real relationship experience up until this point, which was Nancy. Sometimes he did look at Eddie and get a sort of unusual flutter of feelings rushing around in his chest, but he didn’t really think much of it. Maybe he just wasn’t used to hanging out with someone like him.

“I’ll just pay you back, if you want,” Eddie muttered, taking a step towards the door. “But I wasn’t kidding about being short on cash, so… I’ll just, see you later?” He didn’t even wait for an answer before he turned around and practically ran out the door. 

“… See you later, I guess,” Steve mumbled, even though Eddie was completely off the property at that point. 

Robin sidled up to Steve, bumping him with her arm. “Wow,” was all she said. 

“What?” Steve turned to her, looking more confused than he had in his entire life. “Am I missing something?”

“Well, brains, for one,” she quipped, patting him on the shoulder. “But… how do I explain this to you properly…?

“Explain what?” Steve sounded exasperated and flustered. 

Robin took a deep breath, placing her hands on the table in front of them. “Remember when we had that talk, in the bathroom stall?”

“After we were drugged by crazy people?” Steve replied sarcastically. “No, I have no memory of that.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she waved him off, “forgetting all of that right now.” She let out a deep sigh. “Remember when I told you about Tammy?”

Steve nodded slowly. “Yeah, I remember that…” He said as if he was waiting for what she was saying to make sense.

“Okay. So apply what I said, to how you feel about Eddie. Are you seeing any similarities there?” Robin was speaking slowly, as if she was explaining something to a toddler.

Steve furrowed his brows. “Well… that’s different,” he explained. “I’ve already dated Nancy, and I know I like girls.”

Robin rubbed her temples. “Yes, well, you can like both, Steve. There are lots of people who like girls and boys.”

“... Really?” Steve looked at Robin, and she could practically see the wheels turning in his head.

“Yes, Steve. It’s allowed.” She clapped her hands together. “Now, keeping that in mind, do you understand the feelings you’re having for Eddie?”

Having it phrased to him like that made the whole thing dawn on him; these unexplainable feelings he was having finally had an explanation. I want to be with Eddie. 

He hopped over the counter, not answering Robin’s question as she called after him. Steve honestly didn’t even hear her. 

He didn’t even think about using his car, which he’d very mindfully driven to Family Video; he just ran to the trailer park. He quickly found Eddie’s trailer and banged on the door until it opened.

“Jesus, something better be—“ Eddie froze in his tracks as he saw a very disheveled looking Steve at his door.  “Harrington? What’re you doing here?”

“I… I like you,” Steve huffed, still breathing heavily from running all the way there. 

“…What?” Eddie was just staring at him wide-eyed. 

“…Don’t make me say it again,” Steve pleaded, his voice a bit softer now that he was starting to catch his breath. 

“But—“

“You heard me, I promise you heard me, I just only have enough courage to say it the once so please don’t make me say it again unless you’re saying it ba—“

Eddie leaned forward and kissed him, mostly to get him to stop rambling like an idiot, but also because he wanted to. “Does that help?”

Steve nodded, and then remembered he should probably go back to work. “Yeah, I um…I’ll see you for that date? Soon?” 

“Sure, Harrington,” Eddie replied, smiling like an idiot in love. “I’ll see you soon.”

[jacksonlandgraab]

[billboard-hotties-tourney]

Prince (1958-2016) solo, leader of The Revolution Songs: "I Wanna Be Your Lover," "For You" Defeated Opponents: Donovan, Miles Davis, Marvin Gaye, David Byrne, Al Green Propaganda: "His music sounds like no one else's. He was able to make a guitar sound magically different to how guitars are supposed to sound. And his voice. He could go from squeaky, almost childish sounding, to a soulful, balladic powerhouse performance all while making it look easy. He was one of the greatest singular performers and musicians ever. And he was a short king to boot." "Most photos of Prince don't really do him justice because, like Jimi Hendrix, he was at his hottest when he played guitar, and to me that's something you have to actually hear to understand. Also he had a great, super energetic stage presence, which is also extremely sexy and hard to convey in pictures alone. What I'm trying to say is that everyone should just watch his Superbowl halftime performance and I dare you to tell me that he wasn't the sexiest man alive that night." "Prince was the only guy who could show up at your party, in frills, and steal your girlfriend. Then steal her clothes, then steal someone else's girl in your girlfriends clothes."

Clarence Clemons (1942-2011) The E Street Band - saxophone Songs: "Jungleland," "Badlands" Defeated Opponents: Keith Richards, Bob Marley, Cab Calloway, Russell Mael, George Harrison Propaganda: see visual

Visual Propaganda for Prince:

Visual Propaganda for Clarence Clemons:

[autisticlancemcclain]

keith is forever 5’7” in my heart but how tall do you think he is?

depends on my mood tbh. sometimes he is a short 5'4 king sometimes he is 5'7 sometimes he is 6 foot even often he is whatever he needs to be to be one half inch taller than lance post space whale

[sammaggs]

was scrolling through some old photos for work stuff and found a gem: that one time I went to the Canadian Screen Awards in 2015 the lifetime achievement award that year was given to OUR MAIN MAN

photos were absolutely not allowed inside so I have exactly one (1) picture from the entire night, but I was NOT TO BE DETERRED so here, have a Shitty 2015 Cell Phone Rare Paul

This had somehow entirely disappeared from my memory banks (ADHD brain huh) but I now recall sneaky-taking this with shaking hands, and that his speech was beautiful and all about the importance of Canadian cinema and television!

Also a winner that year on the same stage: Callum Keith Rennie for guest starring on Motive

George Pimentel the photog king of Toronto, impossible to not smile at him exactly like this!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Also incredible you can tell I was dating a short king by where the TELEFILM logo lands on Callum (neck) vs my dear sweet Ted (over his head) lmao

I was a baby but I was at the time the Cineplex Girl dating the Space Guy so I was generally in this orbit

So apparently I saw both Paul and Callum on stage from like 2 tables away in 2015 and totally spaced on it until this exact moment!!!!!!! Cool!!!!!!!

GLAD I SNUCK A PIC TBH!!

do u fuckin think they hung out after or what like oh my god