#tiny keith is so cute

[rottenseaweed]

for @klance-daydreams 's dtiys! :D

this was pretty fast and the hands and feet are a little bit weird but overall I like how this turned out! I missed drawing something this big that isn't a floating head for once, so thank you for the dtiys :)

[dmirrta]

This is very old shit but he is so 🤏

[childoftheriver]

The handsome boys.

[lil-melody-moon]

@hammill-goes-fogwalking *hugs and kisses* thank you for showing me this!

Keith Moon on Ready, Steady, Go! 1966, photos by Tony Gale

[shares-a-vest]

@steddiemas Day 17: Accidental Kink Discovery (Smutty Sunday)

Rated: T for suggestive language/flirtatious banter (y'know me, more silly than spice!)

“I hate it!” Eddie spits through gritted teeth.

He shakes his fists to the heavens, which jingle-jangles the bells on the green hat, collar and shirt hem of his costume.

Steve chuckles from his vantage point on the edge of the bed, impossibly charmed by what is a faint tinkling to his own ears as Eddie grumbles at his reflection in the full-length mirror.

He rakes his eyes down the back of his boyfriend’s seething and tense frame. He stops at Eddie’s legs, looking positively gangly in a pair of green tights. Long, too, as they disappear up under a tiny pair of green shorts with a red felt trim and –

Oh, no.

Steve gulps.

“What?” Eddie snaps, whipping around.

He scrunches his nose like he could hiss.

“Nothing!” Steve splutters, folding his arms tight and shrugging as he tries not to think about Eddie in a complementary pair of festive underpants – 

Oh, no.

He puffs out a breath, looking anywhere but at Eddie and his scowl.

“I should have never let Joyce talk me into applying for a job at Melvad’s,” Eddie rambles, half-muttering his words, “Why couldn’t you have charmed Keith into giving me some shifts at Family Video? At least I wouldn’t have to dress as a goddamn elf.”

Jingle-jangle.

Steve looks up just as Eddie stomps his foot.

His shoes jingle-jangle too.

“Gah! Fuck!” Eddie curses and freezes on the spot, arms tight by his sides.

“I can’t help it if my work vest is already green,” Steve teases, shrugging innocently, “Besides, Keith currently has you banned for ‘distracting staff’.”

His air quotations only make Eddie bristle. He lifts his right hand, likely to worry with a lock of his hair. But his fingers snag his jester-like collar.

Jingle-jangle.

Eddie splutters away with what Steve can only assume is a series of incoherent expletives as he begins to hop on the spot to wrestle one shoe off and hurl it across the room.

At least that’s what Steve assumes Eddie’s full-body throw is intended to do. But the lightweight shoe only makes it about a foot before it softly falls to the ground.

Eddie shrieks and then dips his head to dry sob into his hands.

“I look so stupid,” he laments, “I don’t want to be an elf.”

He looks up all doe-eyed and Steve can’t help but think how nice his hair looks under the elf hat, his locks sitting in place to perfectly frame his face. Even if Eddie doesn’t want to be an elf, he looks cute as hell as one.

Fuck it. What happens in the bedroom, stays in the bedroom, right?

“Don’t worry,” Steve says, lowering from the bed to the floor, “It’s only for a few days, right?”

“What the hell are you doing!” Eddie recoils, glistening eyes going wide as saucers as Steve begins to crawl on his knees towards him.

Jingle-jangle.

He stops in front of his boyfriend and takes his hand, planting it on his shoulder before he dips down for the remaining shoe.

“Helping you take this off...” he explains, voice light as he wraps his hand delicately around Eddie’s ankle.

“Okay…” Eddie hums, raising a sceptical brow even if he shifts his weight onto Steve’s shoulder to steady himself.

Steve bites his bottom lip, trying not to so much as chuckle as every movement Eddie makes sounds off a series of tinny bell sounds. He removes the green felt shoe and tosses it over his shoulder, still holding Eddie’s ankle before carefully lowering it back to the ground.

He looks up, a smile turning to a smirk as Eddie gulps, his eyes flitting down to where Steve still has his hand wrapped around his ankle, soothing it now from the embarrassment and green.

“Stevie…” Eddie frowns.

Steve runs his hand up his green stockinged leg slowly, pausing only when his fingertips skirt the bottom hem of his tantalising green shorts.

“Oh my god!” Eddie exclaims, clawing at his shoulder, “You like this costume, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” Steve smiles, running his free hand through his hair.

“Not possible,” Eddie insists, shaking his head and chopping a hand through the air before placing it right back on his shoulder.

Jingle-jangle.

“I do,” Steve insists, flicking a bell on the hem of his shirt now.

“Don’t jingle it,” Eddie spits, jaw clenched.

“What if I jingle you…” he begins, tilting his head to the side as he looks him over, “All the way…”

“Gross!” Eddie shrieks, “That is the worst line you have ever…”

He trails off, a visible blush creeping up his neck as Steve allows his hand to breach the hem of those shorts.

“But,” Steve bites, pressing his fingers into Eddie’s skin, “You have to be a good elf, okay?”

He watches as a myriad of emotions run through Eddie’s eyes before he lands on a similar ‘fuck it’ attitude and goes along with it.

“Sure thing, Santa,” Eddie soon coos, dimples dotting his cheeks as he offers a cherubic smile and a two-finger salute.

Jingle-jangle.

“You have been the naughtiest elf in my workshop,” Steve teases, popping the ‘p’ as he reaches around to grab at Eddie’s ass.

Eddie lurches forward, Steve’s face now flush with his scratchy polyester shirt front.

Jingle-jangle.

[autisticlancemcclain]

“You’re nervous.”

“Hnnngh,” Keith says, knuckles white on the steering wheel. He looks straight ahead, left leg bouncing, hair pulled back into a ponytail but flyaways everywhere. He keeps having to push up his glasses when they slide down his nose, nudged forward by all the tension in his eyebrows. “Being stressed before a stressful situation is not being nervous, Lance, it’s just my brain responding like a brain.”

Lance hides a smile. “You’ve met my family before, baby.”

Keith slows to a stop as they approach their turn, looking at Lance instead of the road for the first time in twenty minutes. His indigo eyes are wide and pleading. Lance is distracted by the tiny mole beside his nose.

“I’ve met your mom,” he says emphatically, breaking eye contact with Lance to crane his head to the left, checking over the hill for any cars. He’s far more careful than he needs to be — there’s never anyone on this road. But Keith is always endlessly careful when he’s driving other people around. “I’ve met your siblings. I’ve met your abuela. I’ve met the twins.”

��Mighty number of people,” Lance agrees. He looks at his boyfriend pointedly. “All of whom love you.”

“Because they love you,” Keith stresses. “You’re, like, their favourite person. You hyped me up so of course they have a nicer view of me. But this is like — your great grandparents and cousins and aunts and uncles and, I dunno, second sister in law five times removed —

“Not how that works,” Lance interjects, amused.

“—and now I gotta impress them all? At once? I still don’t know how I did that with everyone else! I panicked! I forgot all my lines and conversation starters! I just — was awkward, and they were cool with it because your family is cool!”

“Ah, yes, you were yourself and people liked you,” Lance says, nodding sagely. “How bizarre.”

Keith looks at him imploringly. He has a — really cute nose, holy shit. It’s crooked from the three separate times it’s been broken and Lance is kind of obsessed with it. All he can think about is pressing a kiss to the bridge of it and watching how Keith will crinkle it on reflex. He has to fight back a giggle.

“I am going to get eaten,” Keith says miserably. “My luck is going to wear out. I’m gonna say something stupid and offend your third cousin or trip over someone’s toddler and destroy your mother’s flan by crashing into the table and upending hot coffee on an elderly person. Then I’ll get arrested for assault and you’ll have to visit me in prison and my cellmate will make a comment about you or something and I’ll have to kill him and then I’ll get retried and the death sentence, probably, and then Red will bust me out of prison and cause intergalactic meltdowns and —”

Lance can’t hold back anymore. Quick as a dart he reaches out, fisting Keith’s collar, and yanks him over the gearshift, kissing him softly and soundly until Keith sighs, surprise fading into something calmer, relaxed. His hand comes up to cup Lance’s cheek.

“You need a Xanax,” Lance says gently as he pulls away.

Keith huffs, the manic look in his eyes replaced with something much softer. Relieved, even. “Yeah, probably.” He tears his eyes away from Lance, rechecking his turn and finally actually putting on his blinker and moving onto the right road. His free hand reaches over the gearshift and Lance grabs it, tangling their fingers together and resting them in his lap. “I just — I want your family to like me.”

Lance smiles, a wide one that brings a flush to his cheeks and makes him shy, even though he’s not self-conscious; a smile that makes something flutter so intensely in his stomach that it feels so intensely private.

“They’ll like you,” Lance says simply.

Keith exhales. His hand tightens. Lance squeezes back.

The rest of the drive is easy.

———

By the time they make it to Lance’s great-grandmother’s farm, he can tell that some tension has crawled back into Keith’s shoulders. But he’s always been brave, when fighting dictators or meeting parents, and doesn’t hesitate to pull into the gravel driveway and park the car. He squeezes Lance’s hand again before letting go, stepping out of the car and heading to get their stuff.

“Tío! Tío!” scream two voices, and Lance doesn’t even have half a second to brace himself before Nadia is launching herself at his stomach. He manages somehow to spin them both around to offset the momentum, keeping them both upright. Keith is not quite so lucky — Lance hears a slam, a startled oof, and then he sees their bags go flying out of the corner of his eye.

“Jesus Christ,” Keith wheezes, flat on the ground with Sylvio crowded on top of him.

“I got you!” the boy crows, scrambling off Keith’s body in order to adequately dance around in victory. “You went splat!” He whirls around to face Lance, still dancing around. “Tío Lance! Did you see?”

Lance adjusts Nadia on his hip, making no attempt to hide his amusement. “I did. You got him good, buddy.”

Beaming, Sylvio turns back to Keith, who’s finally managed to get enough breath back in his lungs to stand.

“You got me good,” he wheezes in approval.

“Just like you showed me!”

There’s no mistaking the smugness in Sylvio’s voice, the challenge, the I’m-little-you’re-big-and-you’re-a-loser.

Keith recognises the challenge easily, eyes glinting, and before Sylvio can run away Keith scoops him up, tossing him over his shoulder and whirling them around ‘til he’s dizzy.

“Just like I showed you, champ. Think you can get out of this one, though? It’s easy!”

Sylvio shrieks, pounding on Keith’s back with fists weak from laughter. Nadia squirms in Lance’s hold, so Lance sets her down, and in seconds she’s run and attacked Keith’s other side, climbing up his legs to try and free her brother. Keith scoops her up, too, throwing her over his other shoulder as she laughs just as shrilly.

“Clearly neither of you learned very much!” he shouts, grin so wide it practically splits his face. His already precariously dangling glasses slide right off his face but Keith doesn’t even spare them a glance, stepping over them easily and shaking the twins as he goes. “You’re trapped!”

It doesn’t take the bright twins very long to unite forces, attacking Keith with renewed vigour all at once. Lance bends down as they wrestle, scooping up Keith’s glasses and their discarded bags.

“He’s good with them,” Lisa says, sidling up beside him and sliding her hand around his waist. Lance mirrors her, squeezing.

“He thinks they’re hilarious. He loves them to pieces.”

“Believe me, they love him too. I heard about Uncle Keith so much on the drive down that I was tired of him before you two even got here.”

Lance snorts. “Yeah, right, dweeb. No one else here reads Jane Austen. You need your nerd buddy.”

“Indeed,” she says, grinning. She pats him on the hip, pulling away and taking one of the bags slung over his shoulder. “C’mon, let’s get your stuff dropped off. Marcela will want to fuss over you, I’m sure. She hasn’t seen you since your last mission.”

Lance looks back at his boyfriend before following her, making sure he doesn’t need Lance’s help. The twins have wrestled him into doing their bidding, it looks like, or more likely he didn’t even put up a fight, and sit on one shoulder each, guiding him around the property with shouts and points and frenzied gesturing. Keith has his hand locked firmly over each set of knees, careful not to let them fall, as he wobbles around to make them gasp and laugh.

Lance smiles. He’s fine.

———

Keith finds him within the hour, Nadia and Sylvio off to play with their cousins.

“You abandoned me,” he pouts, hand wrapped around his elbow.

Lance notices, idly, that he’s slouching again; that his ponytail has been abandoned entirely and his hair curtains his face.

Hm.

“You were busy being a doofus,” Lance teases, brushing his hair out of his face. He nobly resists the urge to quote Regina George. “One of us has to be the mature one. We wouldn’t want anyone getting the wrong impression about the saviours of the universe.

“You’re hiding out on a random couch on your phone,” Keith deadpans. He glances down at the screen. “You’re watching a seven year old vine compilation. On mute.”

“Like an adult,” Lance says primly. “Watch with me.”

Keith rolls his eyes fondly, but slides on the couch behind Lance, arms wrapped around his waist and chin hooked over his shoulder. Lance digs in his pockets until he finds Keith’s glasses, twisting around to slide them on his handsome face. His hands linger on Keith’s temples. Keith’s smile is small and crooked and bares the tiniest peek of crooked incisors, and Lance’s heart flutters.

He leans back into Keith’s chest as he plays the video, watching a compilation of dorky videos he’s seen a thousand times. He feels Keith’s grin press into the juncture of his neck as he starts to mumble along. His hand rests just under Lance’s shirt, flat on his stomach. Lance fights the urge to squirm.

You Are In Your Abuela’s House, he reminds himself firmly. Your Ancestors Are Watching You. And Jesus, Probably.

Luckily, someone calls out their names before Lance really needs to find a vat of ice water to dunk himself in.

“Leandro! Keith! Come eat before your hog of a brother takes it all!”

The two of them don’t even need to pause for a moment before throwing themselves off the couch, scrambling towards the kitchen at top speeds because Marco absolutely will eat their portion of the food. Not even because he’s hungry for it, just because he’s a butthead who thinks it’s funny.

“This is your fault,” Keith informs him, careening around a questionably placed side table.

“Nothing is ever my fault ever in the entire universe,” Lance shoots back.

(Is it Lance’s fault? Possibly. But in his defense, the several years he spent as a child waiting for Marco to be distracted before eating his favourite thing on the plate still make him crack up when he thinks about it. Marco just got so mad, every time. Plus his eyes bulge a little when he loses it. How was Lance ever supposed to avoid poking that bear?)

Luckily, they make it in time to wrestle a plate away from Marco’s snickering ass.

“Keith, Lance,” Lance’s mother greets warmly before Lance can crack a plate over his brother’s head. “I’m glad you made it!”

“Mother,” Lance squawks dramatically, hand flying to his chest, “I am the second to be greeted? You’re son? You’re youngest angel? The one who went missing for several years and returned to you, prodigal?”

She reaches over and flicks Lance in the forehead. Keith snorts. Marco cackles.

“Keith called me on the flight home,” she explains, ruthless. “So he is the son, and you are the son-in-law.”

Keith flushes as he always does when Mamá pairs them like that, when they’re both her sons, when she implies what it implies. Lance lets the warmth of that expression soak into his bones, deep in through his back, from every point Keith is touching him.

“I was sleeping off being maimed!” Lance despairs.

It does him no favours. Mamá waves her hands wildly, setting down her own plate in favour of placing her hands over her ears. “Gah! Sh! Do not tell me of these things! I am meant to pretend your job is nothing more than ornamental! Do not ruin that for me!”

“It was the slightest ever maiming,” Lance mutters, sullen.

Keith visibly bites back a retort to that, no doubt out of respect for Mamá.

(Lance knows that Keith would have been the world’s biggest mama’s boy had he grown up with Krolia. He has shared this hypothesis with Shiro, who had laughed so hard upon hearing it that he had sprained a muscle in his neck, and then explained later with a heat pack and a wryly smiling Adam that Keith used to scold Shiro for pushing himself with exact quotes from Shiro’s mother herself.)

“Nobody ever wants to hear my side of the story,” Lance laments.

Keith bends down to kiss him on the cheek.

“That’s because you are a liar,” he says kindly.

Lance catches his chin before he can pull away, kissing him to shut him up.

They head outside to join everyone else, plates stacked high with food and plastic cups balanced precariously with spare fingers. Keith starts to slouch again as they walk out the sliding screen door, but he keeps his hair out of his face, eyes flitting between different people. It helps that hardly anyone spares him half a glance, too used to random new people in such a big family.

“Hey, Patito! Over here!”

Lance whips his head up at the familiar voice, breaking into a wide smile when he sees his sister’s wilding waving hand. Keith, too, seems relieved when he catches sight of Veronica, rushing over almost faster than Lance is.

“Hey, losers,” she greets, flicking water from her cup at them as they sit across from her. “Took you long enough to get here.”

“Lance is a distraction and danger to the road,” Keith says immediately, because he is a snitch. He is also unfortunately very quick and manages to duck away from Lance’s pinch.

Veronica snorts. “Believe me, I know. Every ride back to the Garrison on weekends was a near death experience because he kept smacking me every ten seconds. A menace.”

“You manipulator!” Lance accuses. “I slapped you because you teased me! Constantly!”

Keith and Veronica share sharp, matching grins. Lance takes a nanosecond to ponder what he ever did to deserve the sufferings of their friendship.

“That’s because you’re so goddamn easy to rile up, sweetheart,” Keith says with a wink.

Lance attempts to shove him off his chair. Unfortunately, while he does flail backwards, he manages to stay upright.

“You two were supposed to hate each other,” he mutters into his congrí. “This friendship thing is bullshit.”

Neither believe him for a second.

They’re barely into their meal when the nosiness starts. In fact, Lance is honestly surprised it has lasted this long. Luis probably said something to convince everyone to tone it down, because he is a saint and also Lance’s favourite.

“So,” says his Aunt Vena, “…Keith.”

Keith freezes, cheeks bulging. Lance tries very hard not to laugh at him.

“Hi,” he says, swallowing. He says nothing else and looks agonized about it. His memorized conversation starters have no doubt fled his brain.

“You know, I feel like I already know you,” jokes Aunt Vena, never bothered by awkwardness. Or boundaries. “I only see Leandro a few times a year were the only thing he talked about for ages.”

Lance goes pale. Oh, please God, no. Please let Aunt Vena be suddenly gifted with the ability to read Lance’s mind, or at least notice him waving his hands frantically behind Keith’s head, making cutting motions at his throat.

“Keith this, Keith that. Keith Keith Keith.”

Lance cradles his face in his hands. So much for miracles.

“He did?” Keith asks.

“Stop investigating immediately or you’re sleeping on the floor tonight,” Lance threatens under his breath. Keith’s hand finds it’s way to his thigh and rests there, as if laughing at him.

“Oh, yes,” laughs Aunt Vena. “Every other word was about how you sat in class or walked in the hall or flew your planes. He was always angry about it, but he was quite focused on you. Oh, and your hair.”

Aunt Vena turns away to chatter with someone else like she didn’t just ruin Lance’s life. Lance would hate her if he didn’t find her so goddamn loveable, but he does, so instead he looks up and suffers Keith’s wide, shit-eating grin, and ponders deep in his heart how he will re-humble his boyfriend so they’re back on even ground.

“…You were big on the hair, huh.”

“Shut the fuck up or I’ll chop it off as you sleep.”

———

“Keith.”

“I’m just saying.”

“You dorkbrain.”

“I’m just saying!”

Keith’s hair is in a knot at the crown of his head, glasses pushed all the way to his face. He’s got Lance’s hand in his but he’s not paying attention to him in the slightest — he cycles between leaning back, then forwards, then craning his neck and shifting his eyes. Every few seconds he lets out a muted gasp.

A group of children run yelling in and out of the house, heedless of doors and stairs.

“You are such a mother hen,” Lance says with great amusement.

Keith is too distracted to even roll his eyes. “Some of them are very little,” he says worriedly. “Maybe they should play a game outside. There’s more space.” He looks around at the various adults sitting and chatting, aghast. “Should me maybe get a — pool noodle, or something? Just for the corners. So there are no head injuries. That’s the most common way they happen, you know. Tripping during play.”

Lance hums, leaning into his side. “Reading a lot of parenting books, are you.”

Keith is very deliberately silent. Lance flicks up his gaze to watch his face redden.

“…Akira.”

“It’s Shiro’s!” he says defensively. “It was — he had it on the shelf! I read it when I was younger! It was traumatizing! Do you know how easy it is to fuck up a kid? Very easy, Lance! Their heads are very squishy! They don’t know balance yet! They repeat everything you say!”

“Was this book,” Lance starts, choking back laughter with everything he has, “perhaps about raising toddlers?”

Keith’s jaw snaps shut.

“Children under two? Hm?”

Keith glances away. “It didn’t mention.”

Lance loses his battle, burying his cackling in Keith’s shoulder.

“How was I supposed to know that ‘A Guide To Raising Healthy Children For New Parents’ was about — babies? Shiro was the dumbass who had it!”

Lance laughs harder. “Did he — did he buy it when he —”

Keith puts his head in his hands. “He bought, like, forty books when he first started fostering me, they were all basically the same, he’s such a dumbass —”

“Stop, stop,” Lance begs, grasping his aching stomach. The image of Shiro, twenty years old, panicking after impulsively deciding to apply to foster the delinquent who stole his car, frantically googling advice for new parents only to unknowingly receive information about toddlers is the best mental image he’s had in a while. He’ll have to share with Pidge and the rest of the Holts the second they get home.

“You’re such a butthead,” Keith grumbles, but it’s half-hearted. His attention is still mostly on the way Mateo, Lance’s four year old second cousin, very nearly brains himself on the corner of the brick entryway trying to swerve away from his older sister. Keith’s sharp inhale would have been comical if Lance didn’t feel his own heart drop.

“Okay,” Lance concedes, “maybe it’s time for a new game.” He pats his boyfriend on the knee. “You’re up, champ.”

“Wait, me?” Keith asks, bewildered. “You’re their cousin.”

Lance shrugs. “You’re the worried one. Plus, I want to go get wine drunk with Rachel. Mamá said she just got here. She’s been avoiding my calls all week which means she has Information to share and doesn’t trust herself not to tell me immediately. I have to know what’s up.”

Keith still doesn’t look convinced. “But I’m a stranger to them, basically.”

“So start with Nadia and Sylvio, dummy. Once the rest of the kids see a cool newer and accidentally safer game to play, they’ll join fast. Plus, the stranger aspect is intriguing, probably. You’re like a new toy.”

To solidify his point, Lance calls his niblings over, gesturing to Keith. The twins light up, immediately abandoning whatever they’re doing — trying to shove a sleeping Luis’ finger up his own nose — to sprint over to them.

“Tío Keith has a game for you two,” Lance whispers conspirationally.

The twins burst into howling cheers.

“Game! Game! Game! Game!” they chant, each grabbing one of Keith’s hands and tugging him away.

Keith looks back at him, panicked. Lance blows him a kiss, then turns back into the house to go hunt for his sister.

She finds him first.

“LANCE,” she shouts, whipping around to face him. Lance immediately shifts backwards slightly, knees bent, legs widened, arms held out protectively in front of him. He smirks. She matches it.

She charges.

She aerials into a heel kick, as always, aiming for his skull. Lance back handsprings out of her reach, careful of the various relatives around him, who are well used to their brand of bullshit and don’t even pause their conversations as they lean away.

He comes back up just in time to throw up a block to her fists, aiming a kick to her stomach that she can’t fully dodge. She gets him right back, though, like she always does, aiming a sweeping kick for his ankles that he has to flip on his hands to avoid.

“It’s good to see you, fucker,” she pants, roundhouse kicking the dip of his waist.

“Likewise, asshole,” he grunts, grabbing her ankle and flipping her to the ground. She drags him down with her.

They’re both grinning.

“Tomorrow morning we box for real,” she proposes as they lay there, getting their breath back.

“Deal,” he agrees.

By the time they finally get back on their feet, they’re both parched, and since they also make frequent poor decisions, they head straight for the bad boxed wine. Lance pours them both heaping glasses and Rachel guides them to an open lawn chair, which they both sprawl on, a hundred percent in each other’s space.

“So,” Rachel says, chugging half her glass, “my grades are in. I’m graduating top of my class.”

Lance gasps. “Rachel!”

“And,” she continues, building up suspense with a grin, “I got word back from all my residency applications.”

Lance thinks he might explode. He remembers them when they were little, huddled on the floor of their bedroom at one in the morning, glow sticks guiding their planners, mapping out heir lives together. Where they would go to school, when they would bother with dating, how they would do it all together. Lance, best pilot to come out of the Garrison next to Shirogane. Rachel, the first surgeon to successfully transplant a brain.

“I got in,” she says, beam so wide it forces her eyes shut. “Lance, I got in!”

“Rach!” he screams, eyes blurry from tears and heart full to bursting. “Rach!”

He wraps his arms around her shoulders and squeezes, weeping with joy and elation and buzzing from his head to his toes. This is what Rachel has wanted since she was old enough to talk. This is his sister, his first and best friend, getting everything she has ever wanted, as she has always deserved.

“I’m so fucking proud of you!”

She squeezes him right back, her own tears wetting his t-shirt. Her relief is palpable, and Lance knows it, the indescribable feeling of finally crossing that goddamn mountain, finally getting what you’ve been working for for longer than you can remember.

“Everything is falling into place,” she says softly, pulling back and holding up her cup. Lance laughs and clinks them together.

They settle back into their shared chair, too happy for words, gathering themselves. Lance catches his mother’s eye and returns her soft smile, wine making him warm and happiness making him bright. He feels like he’s swimming in sun-warmed water.

He settles back with a sigh.

Rachel nudges him. “Hey, Loverboy. Look.”

Lance follows her pointing finger. Away from the tables and lawn chairs, in a wide, open space, there’s Keith — surrounded by every single child on the property, ordered in neat rows. Each of them has a hefty stick, held carefully in their hands, watching Keith with great intensity. Keith himself has his bayard out, stretched out in a battle position, back straight and shoulders loose. He has the same bright look on his face that he has during Lion training, or riskier missions. Excitement, steadiness, and a hint of cockiness that has Lance shivering. He demonstrates a move, and with a single minded focus, the children repeat it.

It has always been impossible not to want to be a part of everything Keith does, Lance has found.

“…You kind of scored,” Rachel observes.

Lance’s laughter is breathy, high-pitched. “Believe me, I know.”

There’s a rousing shout from the kids, then a cheer, then Keith shouts, “Ready?” and at their raucous response, chaos breaks out. Sticks are strikes and parried and children throw themselves dramatically on the floor in pantomimed deaths, scrambling to their feet seconds later to get back into the fray. Every few seconds Keith calls out rules and reminders, weaving through the children to point out places for improvement or congratulate someone for doing something right.

“I have never seen them all gathered this long without any crying or fighting,” Rachel says, something like awe in her voice. She pauses. “Well, real fighting.”

Lance smiles, something small and secret and over which he has no control. He catches his boyfriend’s eye and waves, which is returned at twice the enthusiasm.

“Keith’s good with kids,” he says quietly. To himself, he wonders if it’s possible to have a heart so full it bursts.

———

The blankets are scratchy but warm, and Keith smells as he always does, and Lance is half asleep. But the words come leisurely out anyway.

“You awake?“ he whispers, words tucked into the spot above Keith’s heart.

Keith hums. Lance feels the rumble of it in his cheek.

“Barely.”

His eyes are too heavy to keep open, so he lets them slip shut. He breathes deeply the smell of his boyfriend’s body wash, and traces meaningless patterns on his chest with his fingertips, breathing slowly, taking his time. He might fall asleep, but that’s okay. They have time.

“‘M glad you came, today.”

Keith’s breathing is slow and even, just like Lance’s, but he can feel the heavy weight of his gaze, those indigo eyes.

“I go where you go.”

Lance quirks his lips. The blankets rustle softly as Keith slowly slides up his hand, encircling his fingers around Lance’s wrist, palm resting on his forearm. After a minute Lance can feel his heartbeat, at the same time that he hears it, head pressed to Keith’s chest. “You’re good with the kids.”

Keith’s breath stutters. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“I like them. And your family.”

“Told you.”

“Yeah, you did.” He’s silent for a minute, palm heavy on Lance’s skin. “I wanna — do this, Lance. Forever.”

Lance turns his head slightly, just enough to press his lips to Keith’s sternum. “I will love you until the end of time.”

He feels Keith’s smile, sweetening the air.

“I love you, too.”

[sexisbetteronthemoon]

playing with another fic bc i don't have the RAM to concentrate on sibotm rn. thinking of nicknames and how sometimes they sound super bizarre to outsiders.

“What, you never had the guts to ask anyone out?” she asked. “It's not about guts,” Keith said, a little peeved at being called a coward.  “I just never liked anyone.  The other kids at my schools were always really obnoxious.” “You never had crushes?” Verónica challenged, and Keith struggled to understand how this was the current topic of conversation.  He wondered if it was normal for families to interrogate their guests like this. “No,” Keith said, baffled.  “I never had any crushes until I came here —”  He closed his mouth so quickly, he bit his tongue.  His face heated further as Verónica’s mouth spread in a smug, knowing smile. Keith wanted to die, actually.  What the fuck was he still doing here in Lance's house?  Why was he still suffering through this! “It's not good to be too picky,” Graciela said, “but I think it's good to wait for someone you really like.”  She reached out and patted his hand. “Thank you?” Keith said, and it only came out half strangled. “So what kind of hobbies do you have?” Verónica asked him. Keith poked at his food, trying hard to come up with some excuse to leave. “I don't really have any?” Keith said. “You don't do anything in your spare time?” Verónica said. “I guess I read?”  Keith shrugged.  “Or I work on my bike.” “You said you ride a motorcycle, right?” Graciela asked. “Yes,” Keith said. “Is that safe?” she asked him. “I haven't had any accidents,” Keith said. “Hmm,” Graciela said.  “I'm not sure I'm comfortable with my Lanchita getting on motorcycles.” “Lanchita?” Keith said, baffled. “Oh, that's what we call Lance,” Verónica said.  “Basically means little motorboat.  Don't tell him we told you.  He'd be super embarrassed.” Keith raised his eyebrows. “There's nothing embarrassing about it,” Graciela scoffed.  “Lanchita is cute!  He had no issue with this when he was little!  And it fits him because he was always going so fast.”  She looked at Keith earnestly and added, “He was the hardest to keep up with out of all my babies.” Keith smiled a little at the thought of a tiny excitable Lance being called Little Motorboat.

[bannanax]

A LONG ASS RANT ABOUT VLD

consider me officially triggered. this is my way to let things off my chest.

I’ve been rewatching voltron and honestly I’m slowly getting back into the fandom. but like, the way the fandom babys lance and demonize allura on tiktok is reminding me why I stopped interacting with it all together.

do not get me wrong. lance will always be special to me, but let’s be fucking fr, character wise he is the worst one among all of them. like, besides fanon and post canon headcanons I got nothing nice to say about him. the writers did him so dirty and I get that, but even if they gave him an interesting development, he’ll remain the guy who is bitter and jealous of EVERYBODY. not just keith. when pidge and hunk geek out the way that they do (hella cute btw) he is THE FIRST ONE TO CALL THEM BORING AND MAKE FUN OF THEM TO SHUT THEM UP. he makes fun of shiro after his death arc and is weird around rumell..it’s..yeah he definitely is not the best character in vld.

even though I think that calling him stupid for 8 fucking seasons is majorly unproductive and a tired thing to do on the writers part. believe me I’m not into it either.

“The paladins make fun of him constantly” BUT ALSO HES BEEN MEAN SINCE EPISODE ONE. no wonder. and I get that him not being book smart and making fun of ppl who are is supposed to be funny to the viewers but it just comes off cringy and hateful and not funny at all and hella insecure. and I wish they gave him skills to tip that scale for me even a little bit but no. nothing. canon lance is on the very bottom of the list for me because of those flaws.

MOST OF THE FANDOM REFUSES TO ACKNOWLEDGE ALL HIS FLAWS AND SHIFT THEIR ANGER AND DENIAL ON ONE OF THE MOST INTERESTING CHARACTERS IN ALL OF VLD. ✨ALLURA✨

sigh.

now I’m not gonna say what I want to say (ehem* misogyny ehm* SHES NOT GETTING IN THE WAY OF YOUR SHIP ehm* racism 👀) no. in fact I’m willing to push all that aside for now and give them the benefit of the doubt and say that the majority who hate her do not understand her because they simply refuse to rewatch the show again or as society our media literacy, empathy and understanding have been in shambles growing up. CUZ THERE IS NO WAY you watch the show with a mature mind and still believe allura is the problem.

AND STOP SAYING YOU DONT UNDERSTAND ALLURA HATE. YOU DO. WE KNOW EXACTLY WHY THEY HATE HER BUT IT MAKES US UNCOMFORTABLE TALKING ABOUT IT.

anyways,

the number one excuse I keep reading from those infants is that they hate her because she treated keith wrongly after finding out that he’s galra and then “dated” lotor immediately after. which NOT ONLY IS NOT TRUE BUT ITS SIMPLIFYING AND UNDERMINING HER SITUATION.

keith’s main thing is his struggle with his identity at that point of the story (before marmora) even HE was stressed putting the puzzle pieces together because he knows how bad all the galra are. (even when he first met *that one marmmoran who helped shiro escape* he didn’t trust him at all given all the information they had)

when the paladins finally know about keith being a galra IMMEDIATELY we see allura putting distance between her and keith. LMAO she hated his ass and he was sad about it. one thing lead to another and now keith insists against all risks on going on a solo mission to infiltrate a galra ship and blah blah..

allura here is reminded of keith’s character and who he truly is, enough to finally push her /JUSTIFIABLE/ hatred aside. before he leaves they have a one on one conversation in which allura RECOGNIZES HER PREJUDICE AND APOLOGIZES and they hug. 10/10 plot line truly one of the few well handled relationships and stories in the whole show.. and yet ppl still use it as an excuse to hate allura. truly a tiny brain thing.

s3 the paladins now work with the marmmora and allura have come to turms that not all galra are bad. INSERT LOTOR. a deeply complex character with heinous acts and somewhat well intentions. lotor deserves his own analysis preferably by someone qualified to analyze and not at all by me bc this is simply an observation and commentary.

allura NEVER trusted lotor, she only started to after he killed zarkon in season 5. that opened a window for him to manipulate her and the rest of the paladins to trust him. HE FOOLED THEM ALL.

now ppl say that they dated but THE EPISODE THEY FIRST KISS IS LITERALLY THE SAME EPISODE SHE YEETS HIM ACROSS THE ROOM. LIKE NOT EVEN MOMENTS AFTER. so hating allura purely because she had an interesting profound story with lotor is BOGUS.

(even though I am a lotora / lotor redemption truther through and through) I’m not being bias when I tell you the build up they had made perfect sense.

so yeah after all of the shit she goes through (and it’s A LOT I didn’t even mention throughout ALL SEASONS) the writers fucking kill her to save humanity and the fandom turns on her so quickly and easy. and that doesn’t sit right with me.

:)

[lilxmoo]

Pets I think Squad 312 would have, but it's very specific

Tyler - The obvious choice is a golden retriever, but I think he would love and own a pitbull/staffy. Her name is Luna, (he's not a creative guy) and even though she looks scary, she's an absolute baby who loves being cradled. She sits on his chest as much as she can, and even though Tyler originally wanted to train her to do tricks, the best she's got is sit and shake. Has the biggest baby eyes that can make Ty do anything 🥺 It's not uncommon to hear Tyler say; "Luna, jump. Luna, Lu- that's not - naw, you can have a treat for being cute :("

Scarlett - she's really not much of an animal gal, but she found the tiiiniest little kitten on the street one day that latched onto her, and she never let her go. Y'know the type, the little ones that put their whole body into meowing and it's just a tiny squeak. Its a little white cat, and she named it Bae <3 absolutely pampers the little thing with treats and a massive cat climbing thing in her room that the lil thing can't even get up 💕 she combs Bae's hair often, and both of them love it. Especially when Scarlett is gossiping with Auri or Fin while doing so. She carries Bae in her purse everywhere she goes, like a scifi equivalent of the 2000's poodle.

Cat - a bird, (obviously) but specifically a parrot. She probably got it through some drunk deal at a pub one night, and figured, eh, it has wings, may as well keep it. She named him Raptor (she was sixteen and edgy), and Raptor is a MENACE. Bites fingers until they bleed, screams as loud as possible at the most inconvenient times and pisses on your shoulder. But it's worth it in Cat's eyes, because he listens to her and she taught him to say cuss words. She says that he calls everyone a motherfucker because of whoever owned him last, but everyone knows the truth.

Finian - He's a frog guy. He is SUCH a frog guy. Dariel has fish, Fin has frogs. Like Scarlett, he's not one for animals, but mainly because he doesn't like animals that are less....animal. Anything with fur, for example. (Cuz Gremps, etc) If it can learn to open a door, that's already a bit weird for him. However, little slimy things are ok with him. He has five little frogs named Ian, Keith, Andrew, Graham, and David. (He thought it was funny) They're all small and adorable, and quite frankly have very little behind the eyes. Anything more high- maintenance is very inconvenient for him, so his little office things are perfect. However, Bae has a very soft spot in his heart.

Aurora - Rabbit!!!! She has the cutest little bunny that Kal gave her for her birthday after discovering how much she loves them, and she ADORES her little fluffball. His name is Merlin, a little white ball of poof who Auri squeals over almost every day. He has a massive cage, decorated to the nine, but he's almost never in there because Auri is holding him so often. So often, in fact, she forgets he's there sometimes, going to pick something else up on instinct, where Kal will immediately pick up Merlin in replacement. It's a system. She has a pale purple leash for him and everything 😭 (shes so cute djsjsjsnskanajxfja

Zila - Every animal shes ever had is a science experiment 💀 however, Nari has a little sausage dog named Diddles, and since Nari loves Diddles, Zila ....tolerates Diddles. He gives her a MEAN stink eye, and she will respond fully conversationally. Nari will be like, "Yay you're both getting along! :D" and as soon as she leaves, Diddles will look Zila dead in the eye until she starts yapping about the tax bracket to him, silent passive-aggressive energy being thrown between the two.

Kal - Listen, Aurora is so infatuated with Merlin, there's no room for any more animals between them. However, Kal really likes animals in general, and there's a farm of Yeins near their house on New Syldra - they're the equivalent of Horses, but more dragon-like. He loves spending days there when Auri is busy, and volunteers there often when he can. There's one particular Yein named Kirai who is his favorite, and she's a gentle thing who likes to play cheeky tricks on him, like hiding the buckets 🥺 I can see him taking care of most animals, honestly, and is more than happy to babysit any of the Squad's pets when needed. He also has plenty of plants :)

[keithkog]

whats ur opinion on ants?

(and do you think they should be edible?/j)

They’re cute and small while some of them are deadly. Which is honestly my favorite combination. I think they’re cool, strong little guys. Uh- Should they be edible? To that I say, no? They’re so tiny and like to have a mouthful you would need so many.

They also don’t seem very nutritious. I would have to do some research into their nutritional value but ants usually subsist on sugary foods right? Doesn’t seem particularly healthy from surface level observation.

-Keith

[lmmontgomerypolls]

🦇You’re Trick’or’Treating at the Avonlea Church’s 🎃 Annual Harvest Festival;

*poll submitted by 👤@gogandmagog, thank you! this was so fun. (:

1. A Plum Puff from Green Gables. This is a sacred dessert, from the highly guarded and highly secret Cuthbert family cookbook. Don’t let your mom see this puff, or she’ll try to take it home and reverse engineer the recipe, before you get a bite.

2. Oh no. Liniment cupcake. 🤢 Party might be over for you…

3. A tiny pocket-sized Bible. From Mrs Rachel. She doesn’t believe in practising Halloween, and thinks even this whole ‘Harvest Festival’ thing is pagan, and sinful, and she can’t believe that the Reverend would allow it.

4. … mixed nuts? They’re a little stale. And there’s a really good chance that these are what Mister Harrison donated, after forgetting he’d signed up to help out, and they’re actually meant for treats for his parrot Ginger. 🦜🥜

5. A carmel apple! You’re so lucky, this looks like it was one of the famous Blythe Farm strawberry apples too.

6. Throat lozenges. 😅 These must be from the Barry’s. Ever since Minnie May got so sick a couple of years ago, Mrs. Barry has become a total hypochondriac.

7. Nice, actual candy. Nerds Clusters too. One bag of these contains all essential nutrients needed to sustain life, everyone knows that.

8. A jar full of Davy Keith’s gory Halloween themed slime. There’s a hand-written coupon for 50¢ off a future purchase from his and Milty Boulter’s slime business, too. Should probably just be glad there’s no bugs in this stuff, right? 😅

9. Mary Joe’s shortcake. Paul Irving’s grandma says it’s too rich for kids’ stomachs, which may or may not be true, but considering there’s at least no eyeballs in it, it’s probably a win.

[nostalgicish]

My favorite tropes in klance fanfics that are never not funny (to me):

"Fighting" over little things

Lance: "I cannot believe you just said that......" Keith: "What?? I stand by what I said. Anchovies are objectively bad and are by far the worst pizza topping." Lance: "What! A pizza without anchovies is like— like a rose without petals! an ocean without waves! a night sky without stars! Keith: "Don't care. They're gross." Lance, theatrically: "You wound me!"

Then bringing the others into it

Lance: "Hunk, are you hearing this nonsense??" Hunk: "Nope, sorry bud, I'm with Keith on this one— anchovies are nasty." Lance: *clutches his chest like he's been fucking shot*

Keith getting confused by Lance's bad flirting but it ends up working on him anyways (i.e. wrong formula right answer)

Lance: "Holy shit, dude. Your hand looks super heavy. Do you want me to hold it for you? Keith, confused: "It's uh... I was— my hand? I— uhh...... yes...?"

Keith pretending he hates pet names/PDA

Lance, planting a wet kiss on Keith's cheek: "Anything for you, baby." Keith, trying really hard not to smile: "Oh my god you're so embarrassing."

Casual sibling-energy banter among the team

Lance: "Pidge is sooooo tiny. She's like. Three feet tall! So cute!" Pidge: "Lance, I swear to God. I will beat your ass." Lance: "Bring it, munchkin. We put out the mousetraps." Hunk: "Oohhh!" *high fives Lance* Pidge: "I am going to bash in your kneecaps." Keith, deadpan: "He'll just stand on the table then." Hunk: "OOHHHH" *high fives Keith* Pidge: *deep inhale* Pidge, eerily calm: "I'm gonna give you guys. a five-second head start... One..." Keith: "Uh... a head start for what?" Pidge: "Two..." Lance: "Wait, like five seconds each or...?" Pidge, gritting: "THREE..." Hunk: "Go go go gogogogogo—"

(unabashedly stole part of that from "Shut Up and Dance With Me" by wittyy_name on ao3)

Everyone knows they're in love EXCEPT them/the team placing bets on them (is it overdone? yes. is it still funny? to me?? also yes.)

Keith: "And uh... guys? There's... one more thing we need to tell you—" Lance, blurting: "WE'RE DATING." Everyone: "..." Pidge: "Fucking finally." Hunk: "Hah! Pay up, guys!" Shiro, pulling a $20 out of his wallet: "Seriously? You guys couldn't wait one more week?" Coran, whispering to Allura: "They weren't courting before??" Allura: "I'm just as confused as you are."

And like. a million other things! i love them!!

[squeakyleftsneaker]

Watching Voltron for the 1st Time: S3 Ep. 1-2

Are you wondering wtf this even is? I am too, but I at least know how I got into this mess. Here's how I got into this mess dawg. If you don't want to read that, just know that I was hoodwinked by a 12 year old I tutor into watching it. She looked so fucking excited when I mentioned I took her homework seriously and watched it that like. Guys. I can't stop watching. Like I'm so serious she was so happy. I am so weak. So now I'm watching Season 3 and uh. I don't think I like this very much???

I Want To Believe

Everyone being kind of suspicious of the Blade of Marmalade is good. It's a good detail. I support it. I hope it keeps coming back in PLOT RELEVANT WAYS >:(

Keith being entirely out of control without Shiro there is great. Genuinely a fantastic character detail. That's the same Keith who presumably washed out of the Space West Point when Shiro went missing too. This is a one-track-mind guy, and that's perfect.

I'm assuming this is also the time when they start to flesh out Lance! It's about damn time! I've been WAITING for this one

Lotor's flowing locks are very nice very cool. Is he part Altean? Bc Allura and Haggar and Allura's dad also have baller flowing locks of glorious white hair

LOTOR'S GOONS HAVE A SPACE CAT OMFG THE SPACE CAT IS SOOOOO CUTE

Voltron is giving my gay ass these beautiful alien women to distract me from how much of a hot mess it is and it'll only work a tiny bit I promise but wowwwwwwwww WOMEN! I LOVE WOMEN!

"I don't want to be the leader. That's just what Shiro wanted" dude Steven Yeun's performance is SO GOOD here. He sounds so heartbroken

And again when Keith finally gets the black lion, the genuine despair in his voice, the way they've drawn him to shrink in on himself, fantastic work by the artists and Yeun and writers (for once) there.

This Ain't It Chief

I REALLY NEED THEM TO STOP HAVING LANCE BE A WANNABE PLAYBOY LIKE ASAP

These scenes where the team is trying to tell Keith he's not the only one who misses Shiro and they need to move on now play so poorly to me. In part because obviously none of characters have really bonded to any degree onscreen. It feels like we're watching a bunch of people who don't really know Keith telling him to just Get Over the death of the only person in this show he has any sort of real relation to. Telling Keith "He would be the first person telling us to move on" rings so cruelly when Keith is pretty much the only one in this group who KNEW Shiro.

The other characters telling him about how they also liked Shiro really drives home how little they all interact diegetically. They don't bring up their personal experiences with Shiro to exemplify how much they miss him because they don't have any. Instead we have Hunk giving some vague lipservice to the idea that Shiro gave him some piloting pointers. Pidge just says "My family talked about him" and Lance says he idolized Shiro back on earth. They don't KNOW him. It's just a bunch of people telling someone who was genuinely mourning the loss of his closest relation to move on and it STINGS.

Let's talk about the lion swap. Allura SHOULD be the red paladin here. She should. She and Keith are established foils last season which makes her a good lancer (to use a TV tropes staple) to Keith, she's got the history with the lion that makes it narratively satisfying, and she and Keith have similar levels of "fuck it we ball" that it'd make for a great dynamic between them. I, however, can pick up that the reason they've put Lance in the red lion is twofold. 1: Lance and Allura are set up from the 1st episode as what is probably going to be the only endgame relationship in this show. Do I like it? Not really with how it's going so far but whatever, it could be made to work and 2: Lance's one-sided rivalry with Keith needs some work. My thing is that though putting Lance in the Red Lion does somewhat help with both of those, it's unnecessary.

In all honesty, it'd probably be EASIER for Lance and Keith's relationship to balance out without Lance in the red lion. The red lion is a lancer spot, there's always going to be tension there, and Lance's whole thing is that he generated a conflict with Keith for no reason and needs to worth through that for himself.

Then for Allura and Lance, having him in the lion that was once her father's isn't necessary to them developing a relationship! He just needs to get his head out of his ass around girls and gain some more self confidence, and then she can start to consider him a potential partner because he IS endearing and fun!

There's another reason why I don't love Lance leaving the blue lion. He's our audience proxy. We are supposed to identify with him! He's the everyman in this 5 man band, the heart, as it were. The blue lion is the lion with the strongest connection to earth, Lance is a character with a big urge to get back home, he mentions it often! Pulling him out of there, pulling the audience out of the lion with that connection weakens that tether. And maybe that's INTENTIONAL but I don't think that's a decision that'll play well for the story overall.

And now, an impromptu tangent, because I am starting to get the feeling that I need to care about the mechanics for writing romance a lot sooner than I anticipated. Let's talk about where a writer could go with having romantic relationships in this show. In this fantasy world, pretend there's not a weird taboo on gay relationships and that all iterations are possible.

The Big Tangent On How To Relationship In Fiction

If as a writer you wanted to have a romance of Hunk or Pidge with literally anyone else in the main cast, you could at this point in time. You'd have to really sit and develop it out and plan for the plot because there's nothing to work with in terms of interpersonal relationships in the main group, but you could do it! There's over 5 seasons left right now! You've got it! I am very FRUSTRATED by the fact that they've developed no real relationships between the paladins, but it does give them a lot of license to go anywhere with it.

If you wanted Lance with ANYONE but Allura or Keith, the same applies! Tabula rasa, complete creative freedom there. But I don't get the sense that's what they're going for. And Lance is a good character to put into a relationship, bc as established he's our audience surrogate!

So let's look at Lance and Allura. I would be willing to place a bet RIGHT NOW that that's an endgame relationship. They set it up from day 1, they fall into a well established trope of "Playboy meets serious girl and shows her fun is good and she shows him to lock in and focus" which. I am personally very lukewarm on! I think it could be done pretty well though. They'd need to really lock tf in though (and not with the stupid lions as proxy). They need Lance to start really relating to Allura in a way that isn't just. Flirting with her in the exact same way that he flirts with literally every girl they put in front of him. And they need him to really work through his own insecurities they've brought up and ignored several times!

Similarly for Allura she deserves to have her own arcs, to really cope with the loss she's facing, and then to relate to Lance differently herself. This dynamic is, though not my favorite, still GREAT when done well. My favorite example of the suave playboy and the serious girl done RIGHT is Han Solo and Leia. And they keep Han fun and Leia locked tf in! Their personalities aren't compromised at all!

I really hope they avoid my beloathed trope of having Allura just. Suddenly be into Lance the second he behaves. I really do not want this. I hate it when women are presented as a prize for good behavior. It's awful.

I've been reliably informed that apparently Keith and Lance is a ship people like, and look, as a TV troper for a long time, Red Oni/Blue Oni I know your siren's call WELL. I know what you are. Anyway. This is a workable ship I think, but it'll take WORK. Why? Because they've maybe unintentionally set up Lance's character arc as being tied up in getting tf over himself as it pertains to Keith, and Keith's basically got no relation to Lance at ALL on his end. Keith is the focus of Lance's insecurities, while they've written Keith as though they are total strangers.

Red Oni/Blue Oni ships work at their finest when they've got a BALANCE to them. Level each other out. And also, well, I think technically though the show tries to INSIST Keith is the hothead, they can't both be the hothead in this dynamic and if anyone is the brash and impulsive one in the relationship of it all, it's Lance. So they'd have to either mellow Lance out a lot to have him play Blue Oni to Keith's red (which I don't love because toning Lance down is toning the audience down, and uh. WHY?) or they mellow out Keith, which is impossible without Shiro there. You could get this to work though, it's just a lot of writing and time that needs to be devoted. But they had a bonding moment! If you want it to happen it can work.

The reason I started with Lance ships is that obviously, he's our audience-relatable character. Having HIM be in a relationship is really engaging for viewers because in some sense, Lance is US. That said, if you want a little background arc that doesn't require focus and isn't central narratively speaking, nab other characters and make them kiss like barbie dolls! This is where your Hunk and Pidge relationships slot in. Just have a background slow burn! Those are always fun and don't require AS MUCH time.

But, are there some non-Lance options for ships that can build off of existing dynamics then? Well, let's stick with Allura for a second. If you wanted her and Shiro to be in a relationship you'd be working from ground up starting at literally nothing, same as any other ship excluding Lance/Allura or Lance/Keith. But you could make it work by inserting some tension between them, maybe over leadership, maybe over the Galra, something like that.

Which brings me to the Canon Of Yore aka Allura and Keith. Who were a couple in Ancient Days Voltron. I WILL get into my personal opinion on this one in a second, but let's assess feasibility. They're VERY similar characters, they're presented as foils to each other in season 2. You'd need to work hard on this because they're SO similar, and it would've been EASIER if Allura had been in the red lion, but it is hard for these two. Especially because you need to deal with the fact that uh. Well. Allura's entire culture got wiped out by uh. Well. Keith's kinda people*

It is DOABLE to have them work through that. But it is hard to do well without implying that Allura should like. Get Over It. And she shouldn't! Her whole culture was ERADICATED. She deserves to mourn, to feel the scope of her loss, and to be with someone who CAN just understand that and understand her and not exacerbate the pain.

And this brings me to the duo that is basically the only real interpersonal relationship in the show. Aka Keith and Shiro. You may be thinking to yourself "Shoe did Keith say Shiro is like his brother in the Blade of Marmora episode?" To which I would respond "I said the first girl I ever had a crush on was like my sister to many people this really isn't an obstacle if you want it to happen"

Jokes aside you could make this work with really minimal effort! Mostly because these two have a relationship with significantly more depth than anyone else already, all it'd take to have it read romantically is just to have Shiro like. Blush or something. They have a great dynamic where they are only ever vulnerable with each other. Shiro reigns Keith in, Keith gives Shiro an outlet for his pain. Shiro supports everyone where Keith supports him entirely, Keith will strike out on his own except that Shiro will always be there. This is a great dynamic for a friendship or for a romantic relationship. You can go anywhere with this! They're established to know each other so well even before the show starts, they HAVE something, if you're a writer you can do a lot with that.

If I was a particularly lazy writer and wanted props for a gay relationship without ACTUALLY having to do a lot of work, I'd just keep everything as is with like the barest minimum of effort and then show them holding hands in the epilogue and all their interactions retrospectively look romantic. It's a very low maintenance relationship, if you don't want to do real work.

As to what I personally would go for, I really don't care. I think that ANYTHING I mentioned would work great in different narrative contexts, I think that a competent writer could make me love ANY of them! Are these writers competent? NO. So I very much fear that we'll get Allura kissing Lance as a reward and I'll be very upset. So. Yeah. That's that.

*this is why I don't love Zuko and Katara as a ship in Avatar the Last Airbender btw. I just. There's something that activates my fight or flight in the concept of a woman who once hated a man who is the face of a colonial empire that has ravaged her culture and killed her family falling in love with him no holds barred no reservations. The power dynamic just. Unsettles me. Them getting to a point of mutual respect and friendship I can understand, but a romantic relationship and involvement is. Just so fraught that I think no children's show could handle that with any sort of grace.

SEE Y'ALL NEXT TIMEEEEEEE

[dayas]

12 + brucas (maaaaybe)

12 ⧽. gently placing their jacket over the other’s shoulders when they get cold.

SO TRUE. I’ve never formally written for them before so this should be fun!

—

Brooke Davis dressed for herself, not for the weather. And sure, maybe it wasn’t the smartest idea to be wearing a super cute, super short, super sparkly mini skirt with her absolutely adorable equally sparkly tank top and fabulous open toed mules, but the occasion had called for it. Any party she went to, she would be the best dressed there. She had a reputation to uphold, and she would be damned before she let her picture perfect crown slip.

It was only a teeny tiny bit unfortunate that tonight was so windy and chilly, and that her car had decided not to start. Peyton hadn’t answered the phone when she called, and Brooke was entirely certain Nathan and Haley were very well occupied shoving their tongues down each other’s throats. That left only one option. Sighing, Brooke dialed the number she had long since memorized. He picked up on the first ring.

“Brooke?” came Lucas Scott’s voice through her phone.

“My car won’t start,” she said, “can you come get me?”

“I’ll bring the truck.” She gave him the address of the street she was parked on and hung up. Brooke rubbed her hands up and down her arms, shivering, praying for Lucas to hurry. Thankfully, it didn’t take him that long to get to her. It wasn’t fair — he looked great even like this, in a blue t-shirt, a jacket and jeans, hopping out of his car to rig hers up to the tow truck.

“Thanks for coming,” she managed through her chattering teeth when he finally approached her after his work was done.

“Brooke, you’re shaking,” Lucas noted, concern flooding his tone. She hated it. He didn’t have the right to be concerned over her, not after what he did. And yes, they were working their way back towards being friends, but she still had no idea whether she could trust him or not.

“I’m fine,” Brooke snapped, “you know me, I’ve got an ice cold heart anyways. This is totally normal Ice Queen behavior.”

Lucas stared at her for the space of five seconds. Then, slowly, carefully, he removed his jacket, placing it gently around her shoulders. Brooke didn’t say anything, just slipped her arms through the sleeves and held it closed in front of her, grateful for the warmth it provided.

“Come on, let’s get you home.”

Lucas opened the passenger side door to the truck for her and Brooke climbed in. He got into the driver’s seat afterwards, and away they went. They drove in silence for a few minutes, and she pretended she didn’t see his eyes shifting from the road to her more often than they should have. That was how she knew he was going to ruin it.

“Brooke, I — ”

“Don’t. Don’t, Luke.”

He swallowed, ducking his head into a reserved nod. She wasn’t ready to hear what he had to say. She wasn’t sure she ever would be, not really. Or maybe she wasn’t sure she would be able to hold herself as she did, so cautious and careful with him. To continue their slow and steady pace instead of melting back into him and lighting herself on fire just to see his eyes glow in the lights of the crackling flames.

Brooke’s red door appeared far too slowly in her opinion, but she had always believed in the saying ‘Better late than never’.

“I’ll have your car fixed by tomorrow. No charge.”

Brooke frowned, “Lucas, you can’t do that. I’m not gonna make you work for free, and we both know I can pay for it.”

“It’s the least I can do.”

Well. He had her there. She shrugged.

“I’ll just make a donation to Keith and the shop, then.”

“Brooke —”

“It’s the least I can do.”

She cursed him and that stupid, addicting fond look in his eyes. God. Lucas made it too easy to want him again, which was exactly why she was hesitant to call him.

“Deal, then.” He offered her his hand. She shook it firmly, holding his gaze even when her grip softened and he kept her fingers in his.

“I should get inside,” Brooke said, finally, “We’ve got school tomorrow.”

Lucas nodded, releasing her at last.

“Goodnight, pretty girl.”

The breath shook in her throat when she inhaled. Before she had time to overthink it, Brooke leaned in and pressed a kiss against Lucas’s cheek.

“Goodnight, Luke,” she whispered. Then she was gone, out of the truck and disappearing behind the red door, wondering whether or not she would regret that in the morning.

[kaakelymaakely]

do i wanna know

KLANCE FANFIC CHAPTER 3

Monster Hunter! Keith AU

Despite Coran’s vague age, he was a hard man to keep stride with. Many times, Keith attempted to fall in step with him, only to quickly get winded and fall back. Coran kept a steady pace while he pointed out various buildings, rattling off about their long history or whatever. Keith mostly tuned him out into the background, eyes trained on the ground. The less he knew about the town, the better; there was no use in getting attached to the village.

The only part that had Keith’s ears perk up was when Coran had mentioned Lance’s house. He followed Coran’s pointing finger to a quaint little shack, the outside decorated in different crops and flowers. Is that what Lance was? A farmer? As cute as the thought might be, imagining Lance in overalls with a piece of wheat between his teeth, it just didn’t seem fitting.

Embarrassing as it was to admit, Keith took a mental note of the address, just in case he wanted to bring the leftover pie and make amends, maybe even apologize if he could find the words. The thought was quickly shoved away though. He would not be doing that.

Eventually, the two of them arrived at a particularly messy building—or was it a house? It seemed like a weird Frankenstein-mix between a laboratory and someone’s home. Where the usual foundation would be something simple, like cobblestone, it seemed to be replaced with heavy hardware, bolts peeking out like the place was stitched together. The front lawn was a graveyard of metal scraps and rusted tools, an iron spine sticking out of the dead grass as if it were some twisted garden sculpture.

The door had the same reinforcements, the wood replaced with straight-up iron that gleamed dully in the overcast light. There was no room for a keyhole, or even a doorknob—just a small, scuffed-up keypad. Coran, for whatever reason, seemed to have the password. He used one hand to cover the keypad from prying eyes as he typed in the password with the other. He winked at Keith as the door quickly slid open with a mechanical hum, like it was some ancient beast reluctantly allowing entry.

Keith hesitated, eyes scanning the yard one last time, before finally trailing behind Coran into the shadowy interior.

“This is The Friend’s house! Isn’t it so ‘Ohio?’”

Keith jumped, heart hammering in his chest as Coran’s voice boomed right next to his ear. The words made him scrunch up his nose, irritation flaring. “Yep. Definitely Ohio.”

Coran flipped a switch, flooding the cramped space with harsh fluorescent light. The air was tinged with the smell of burnt metal and stale coffee, and the walls were bare, save for the sporadic grease stain. A compact kitchen clung to one corner, countertops cluttered with mismatched mugs and half-empty bags of instant noodles. 

Coran led Keith past a narrow island toward another reinforced door. This one was battered, dented, as if something had tried to claw its way in—or out. There was no keypad this time, just a rusted handle that Coran yanked open with ease.

Inside, the room opened up into a chaotic wonderland. Shelves lined the walls, crammed with jarred animal remains��frogs suspended in cloudy liquid, bird wings pressed against glass. Intertwined were half-assembled gadgets that buzzed and clicked with a life of their own. A dusty photo of Coran, Lance, and some other folks shared space with a twisted metal sculpture that looked suspiciously like some sort of animal trap.

Webs of red string stretched between thumbtacked photos, a conspiracy map painted in snapshots and scribbled notes. Keith stared, half-impressed, half-unnerved. This person was his kind of crazy.

His gaze landed on a small, hunched figure at a cluttered workbench, hands delicately adjusting gears in what looked like a tiny mechanical spider. He squinted, trying to make sense of them, and then—

“You brought me to a child?” Keith’s voice was incredulous, eyes darting from Coran to the small, wiry figure hunched over the workbench. They didn’t look a day older than fourteen, lanky limbs disappearing into an oversized hoodie. He was ready to storm out, frustration coiling tight, but Coran’s hand clamped down on his shoulder, grounding him.

“This is not a child,” Coran said softly, his tone a quiet assurance that only made Keith bristle more. “This is Pidge, the town’s resident genius. If you’ve got a tech problem, you bring it to Pidge.”

“Pidge?” Keith echoed, skepticism thick in his voice. His eyes narrowed, as if expecting the punchline of a bad joke. “Your name is Pidge?”

“That’s what people call me, yes.” Pidge didn’t look up, eyes glued to their project, hands never faltering.

Keith shifted. “...And you’re not a child.”

“No,” Pidge confirmed, adjusting a tiny screw with nimble fingers.

“And you’re offering to make me gear for free?”

“Correct.”

Keith considered the offer. “I mean, there’s no harm in saying yes,” Keith finally admitted with a slight shrug.

“What are you looking for me to make? A trap? Like a bear trap?” Pidge asked, voice oddly resigned.

“Uh, no, actually.” Keith shook his head, dismissing the idea. “Just a motion sensor, maybe have it connected to a camera. That’s all.”

Pidge finally glanced up, curiosity etched their face. “You’re not gonna try and kill this ‘monster’?”

“No?” Keith replied, though it came out more like a question. “I just want to prove it exists, not kill it.”

“Huh.” Pidge blinks, adjusting their glasses.

“What?” Keith frowns.

“No, nothing. I just figured when Lance said there’s a monster hunter in town….” Pidge trails off, eyes flicking over Keith like they’re piecing together a puzzle.

Keith exhales sharply through his nose. “Ugh,” he groans. Of course. “Lance told you too?”

Pidge smirks like they’ve been expecting that question. “If you have a secret, you never tell Lance.” 

“Lesson learned,” Keith mumbles, rubbing the back of his neck. “Don’t trust Lance.”

“Now, I didn’t say that.” Pidge raises an eyebrow. “He’s loyal when he needs to be.” Then, after a beat, they tack on, “Just not to new incomers that manage to push his buttons.”

Keith scoffs. “Fair enough.” He shrugs, not taking the bait. He knows he messed up—he can finally admit it.

“So,” Pidge starts, leaning against their workbench. “You want me to whip up a simple motion sensor? That’ll take a day max.”

Keith hesitates. “Are you sure you want to do it for free? I can definitely fund your expenses.” He still has that stone-cold cash from the ‘Dream Demon’ incident. Should be enough to cover whatever contraption Pidge puts together.

But Pidge just waves a dismissive hand. “Nah, it’s real simple. Don’t worry about it.”

Coran, who has been fiddling with some old wiring in the background, suddenly pipes up. “See, Keith? Pidge is as smart as a ‘low taper fade’!”

Keith grimaces. “Genuinely, I don’t think you know what that means.”

“I do! But maybe you don’t.” Coran argues, all wide-eyed conviction.

Pidge cackles, the sound sharp and quick, and Keith feels a weird warmth settle in his chest. It’s not romantic or anything, but it’s fuzzy. Light. Like standing near a fireplace and realizing it feels kind of nice. Is this what friendly banter feels like? He shakes his head, clearing the thought. He’s here to find a monster, not make friends.

He steps away, halfway out the workshop door. “Whatever. I'll be back in a day or so to pick up that motion sensor. In the meantime, I’m gonna go home and rest.”

–

Keith had woken up early that next morning, before the sun had risen. He had planned to record something for his podcast—update his listeners on his run-in with Coran and Pidge and lay out his next steps. He got as far as setting up his microphone and laptop before a sharp knock at the door interrupted him.

He checked the time. Still early. His eyes narrowed.

Grabbing his dagger just in case, he swung open the door, half-expecting some random burglar or maybe even the mailman.

He did not expect Pidge.

“Hey, Keith.”

“Oh,” Keith exhaled, shoulders easing up just slightly. Without thinking, he tucked the dagger into his pocket before they could notice. “Good morning, Pidge. Finish the sensor?”

Pidge snorted, hefting up a decent-sized box. “That, and some other gifts.”

Then, without waiting for an invitation, they shoved past him into the house.

Keith huffed. At least Lance had the decency to ask before barging in.

With an unceremonious thud, Pidge dropped the box onto his coffee table. Keith grumbled under his breath, shutting the door and shuffling over to stand beside them.

“What’s in the box?” he asked, already reaching for the lid.

“The sensor with that camera you wanted,” Pidge said. “All you have to do is place it wherever you want, and it should be good to go. No real work on your part, of course.”

Keith lifted a brow. “What else?”

“Straight to the point,” Pidge mused, nodding approvingly. “I respect it.”

They gestured to the contents of the box. “There’s an enhanced flashlight in there—no need for batteries. A new voice recorder for your ‘adorable little podcast,’ as Lance put it.” Keith immediately bit his cheek, refusing to react to that. If Pidge noticed, they didn’t comment.

“It uses less battery but has much better quality,” they continued. “Oh, and there’s a regular old compass. Just in case you get lost. I had the idea to add in GPS directions, because I can, but I figured you’d be the type to get annoyed by the constant guidance. So it’s normal.”

Keith nodded, impressed despite himself. “I appreciate it. Are you sure you don’t want any money for all this?”

Pidge waved a dismissive hand. “I’m all good.”

“Okay, then. Thanks, Pidge. I owe you.”

Pidge visibly stiffened. “Don’t say that.”

Keith blinked. That was… a weird reaction. Too sharp for a joke, too serious for them to be messing with him. He took note of it but wasn’t really sure what to do with it.

“…O-kay?” he said slowly. “Well, seriously, thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.”

With that, they turned on their heel and left, leaving Keith standing there, watching them go.

He frowned, turning back to the box. Did he say something wrong?

–

Keith waits until after lunch to go exploring in the woods. As helpful as Pidge’s inventions were, they didn’t provide everything he needed, so he waits for the town’s market to open, slinking in as soon as he can to grab the essentials—protein bars, water, paracord, and a map of the area, just in case. He moves through the aisles quickly, keeping his head down, grabbing what he needs, checking things off his paper list.

Once his basket is full, he heads toward the checkout, scanning for the fastest way out. He spots an open self-checkout and makes a beeline for it, only for someone to cut in front of him at the last second, practically materializing in his path. She hums softly to herself, completely unbothered, and Keith has to pull up short before he collides with her. He’s about to say something when she turns to face him, and—

Oh.

She’s gorgeous. White hair, sharp features, the kind of presence that makes the world blur for half a second. And when their eyes meet, Keith feels like he’s just walked headfirst into a dream, like his brain has short-circuited before he even had a chance to process what’s happening. Despite being perfectly secure in his own sexuality, he feels entranced , like he’s been hit over the head with something heavy and vaguely magical.

“I’m sorry,” she says, clearly in a rush, “Can I cut in line?”

Keith, against his better judgment, lamely responds without thinking.

“Uh-huh.”

She smiles, grateful, and turns back around, and the moment her gaze is off him, Keith feels like he’s been dropped back into reality. He blinks hard, trying to shake off whatever the hell that was, but it lingers, leaving him annoyed at himself. Just because a beautiful woman exists doesn’t mean he has to stand there like an idiot. He’s not even into women! He’s got no reason to be acting like this!

Scowling, he grips his basket a little tighter and exhales sharply through his nose, forcing himself to focus. He’s got better things to do than lose his mind over a stranger in the checkout line.

Once he arrives back home, he unpacks his haul, methodically fitting everything into his bag—protein bars tucked into one side pocket, water bottles strapped securely in place, paracord coiled neatly at the bottom, the map folded flat against the inner lining, and Pidge’s inventions carefully tucked into the bulk of the bag. He’s about to zip it all up when he hesitates, his fingers hovering over the bag’s opening.

He debates it for only a moment before deciding, Yeah, better safe than sorry. With practiced ease, he connects a sheath to his belt, slides a dagger into place, and gives it a quick tap to make sure it’s secure. Satisfied, he slings the backpack over his shoulders, adjusts the straps, and heads out the door.

“This is Keith Kogane. The date is October 4th, and the time is 1400 hours.” His voice is steady as he speaks into his new recorder, his thumb pressing down on the button. As he steps outside, he locks the backdoor behind him, testing the knob once to make sure it’s truly latched before descending the porch stairs in quick, confident strides.

He moves through the backyard with ease, stepping over patches of uneven ground, sidestepping a large fallen tree trunk, and slipping into the shadowed entrance of Altea’s forest. He keeps walking, his boots crunching against the dirt, his eyes flickering over every detail around him.

“I am currently entering Altea’s forest, where the town’s so-called ‘monster’ is rumored to live,” he continues, his tone measured, analytical. “I will update any findings.”

With that, he clicks the recorder off and slips it into his front pocket, keeping it within easy reach. His other hand drifts toward his belt, fingertips brushing the hilt of his dagger. Just in case.

–

Keith follows the compass, heading south, the needle jerking slightly as he moves. He stashes it away in his pocket when he stumbles upon the remains of a landmark—Hunter’s Rest. Once a hunter’s lodge, later converted into a museum, now nothing more than a wreckage swallowed by the forest. Keith had searched for records detailing what the museum once showcased, but he came up empty. 

Great. Another thing to ask the townsfolk.

The building itself is barely recognizable, its skeletal remains jutting out from the earth like the bones of some ancient beast. The walls have collapsed inward, and the roof is a distant memory. More unsettling than the decay, though, are the claw marks. They scar the surrounding trees, deep grooves carved into the bark as if something massive had torn through the area in a fit of rage.

Keith crouches, his fingers brushing against the forest floor. He slings his backpack forward, digging through the pockets until his hands brush against the motion sensor. He gently grabs ahold of it, lugging it out. Keith fiddles with it until it’s standing, and hides it behind a bush– out of sight from anyone looking for it, but still visible enough to take pictures when triggered.

While still in a deep squat, Keith stares at the scattered debris, until he spots tufts of fur, coarse and dark, clinging stubbornly to the undergrowth. He picks up a small strand, rubbing it between his fingers. It’s thick, not like anything from a deer or a bear.

Then—

A twig snaps.

Keith's body tenses, muscles coiling like a spring. He whips his head toward the sound, his eyes locking onto a pair of wide, startled ones staring back at him from the shadows.

“Relax… I come in peace.” the figure says. 

“If that’s true, why are you lurking in the shadows?”

“Why are you lurking in the shadows?”

Keith grits his teeth, rising to his full height. “Maybe I don’t come in peace. I could easily attack you with my dagger, you know. Take one step closer, and it’s going straight into your chest.”

“Alright, alright! I’m just a simple baker! Seriously, I'm not trying to attack you!”

“...Come out with your hands up.”

“I thought you told me not to come any closer!!” the man yelps.

“Just,” Keith groans. “Just come out.”

The man stumbles out from behind the bushes, hands raised high above his head in exaggerated surrender. He’s wearing a thick, earth-toned sweater, sleeves slightly too long as they bunch around his wrists, and in one of his hands, he holds a raw steak like some kind of bizarre peace offering. 

��See?? I come in peace!” he insists, shaking the steak slightly for emphasis.

Keith sucks in a sharp breath, forcing himself to relax as he slides his dagger back into its sheath. He lets his eyes sweep over the man, trying to make sense of the whole situation, before settling on the mark on his forehead. 

“You’ve got something on your forehead. Dirt, maybe?” Keith says, tilting his head.

“Oh! It’s Ash Wednesday…?” the man offers weakly.

Keith furrows his brows. “It’s a Friday.”

The man freezes for half a second before clicking his tongue. “Okay, you got me. I was doing face masks with my friend earlier, and I guess I didn’t wipe it all off.” He scratches at his cheek sheepishly, but makes no move to remove the mark.

They both stand there, unmoving, the air thick with unspoken questions.

“Well… are you going to?” Keith finally asks, gesturing vaguely at his own forehead.

“No! No… I– I have a bad batch of acne there. So it’s like. Might as well?” The man shrugs, though his voice rises an octave in clear nervousness.

Keith narrows his eyes, not entirely convinced, but decides to let it slide. “Right. Well… I’m searching for a monster.”

The man lets out a low whistle, tucking the steak under his arm as if it were a book. “A monster? I’m guessing you’re the town’s new monster hunter.”

“Lance got to you too?” Keith sulks, crossing his arms.

“Who do you think I was doing the face masks with?” Hunk grins, waving a hand over his still-smudged forehead.

Keith exhales sharply through his nose. “Fair. But yes, that’s me.”

Hunk tilts his head, squinting slightly like he’s sizing Keith up. “Be honest, did the government send you?”

“No, not at all. I’d never work with them. I just run my own podcast.”

“Oh, that’s cute!” Hunk beams.

Keith blinks. “…Thanks.”

The guy is weirdly friendly. Like, suspiciously friendly. But not in a bad way. Just in a Lance-adjacent kind of way. It makes him think of the unfinished pie sitting out on his kitchen counter. Maybe he really should pay him a visit. 

“I’m Hunk, by the way.”

Keith raises an eyebrow at the strange name but bites his tongue. He’s met weirder– like Pidge. Instead, he nods toward him. “I’m sure Lance already told you everything about me?”

Hunk nods enthusiastically before pausing to double-check. “But you’re not here to hurt any monster?”

“No. Just prove they exist. Why does everyone assume I’m on the hunt for it?” Keith throws up his hands.

Hunk shrugs, shifting the raw steak to his other hand. “Well… you are called a monster hunter. One can only assume…”

Keith sighs, rubbing a hand down his face. “I guess you’re right.” He exhales, glancing around at the claw-marked trees and wreckage of Hunter’s Rest before turning his attention back to Hunk. “We both know what I’m doing here, but what’re you doing here?”

Hunk raises an eyebrow. “Would you be surprised if I said the same thing?”

Keith frowns. “Really?” The idea that someone else might be tracking the creature as well sends a spark of unease down his spine. But no—Hunk had already said he was a baker, hadn’t he? So then… Why was he out here?

“Well,” Hunk continues, shifting on his feet, “the ‘monster,’ as you want to call it, actually saved me from a really bad run-in with the town’s most hated person. Scared him off. So I figured… maybe he’d appreciate a steak or something.”

Keith blinks. “ He ?”

Hunk rubs at his arm, glancing away. “Well, I feel better calling him a ‘he’ versus an ‘it.’”

“Just seems a bit too… humanizing.”

Hunk’s gaze sharpens, eyes narrowing. “For someone who doesn’t want to kill the creature, you are quite insensitive.”

Keith presses his lips into a thin line, then exhales. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” The words taste dry on his tongue, but he figures he might as well play nice. He’s gotten pretty far with playing nice —if the free gear is anything to go by. “I guess I’m just wondering about your experience with… him. You said you had a run-in?”

“I did.” Hunk’s grip tightens on the steak. “And that’s all I feel comfortable sharing.”

Keith watches him carefully, noting the slight tension in his shoulders, the shift of his weight from foot to foot. Whatever happened, Hunk isn’t eager to part with it. But Keith isn’t worried– he knows he’ll get what he wants. 

“How did you even learn about our forest creature ?”

Keith exhales sharply through his nose, answering honestly. “An anonymous tip.”

Hunk frowns. “I bet that ‘anonymous tip’ was given by the town’s most hated person. He’s the only one who’s ever had some trouble with him.”

“Oh really? What sort of trouble?” Keith prompts.

“Well he— oh you’re good.” Hunk points at him, steak in hand. “I'm not sharing that information.”

“I was so close.” Keith smiles, not unkindly. 

…Did he just tease Hunk? What is happening to him? “Do you mind telling me about the appointed ‘most-hated-villager’? Maybe I can chat with them?”

“I would, but I'm afraid he’d ruin the creature’s reputation. The ‘monster’, as you call him, really isn’t bad, he’s just trying to live his own life.”

“That’s what Lance said too.” Keith says before he can catch himself.

“And you didn’t believe him?” Hunk raises an eyebrow, defensively. Seems like Keith touched a nerve with that one. 

“I believe that he believed what he was saying. But I personally hadn't had a run-in with this monster. But you have. Please, prove me wrong and say he has a good heart.”

“Lance, or the creature?”

Keith furrows his brows. “We both know I'm talking about ‘the creature’. Lance has his own morals he sticks to.”

“I have a feeling you trust lance more than you let on.”

Keith purses his lips. “Maybe I'd like to believe Lance's morals about this creature. But that's up to what you share.”

Hunk shifts his gaze across Keith’s face, searching for something. Keith, despite himself, allows him to. Whatever Hunk was looking for, he must’ve found it, because his shoulders sag. “Fine. I'll indulge.”

Keith can’t help the small smile that creeps onto his face. “Do you mind if I record the conversation? Just to put it on the record?”

“Sure, but you better not include my name.”

“I’ll respect it.” Keith rummages through his pocket for the voice recorder. When he finds it, he hits the record button with a soft click. “So, anonymous person, what was your experience with the town’s monster?”

“Well. I had gotten into a scuffle with the town outcast.”

“The supposed most-hated-villager?” Keith clarifies, more for his listeners than himself.

“…Yes. Him. well he had ended up cornering me in the woods, threatening to carve me up in the woods.”

Keith’s jaw drops. He was… not expecting that. Altea seemed like such a nice, quiet town– definitely not the type to have attempted murder. “Holy shit”

“Right?” Hunk continues. “Well it was late in the night, and I couldn't see 10 feet in front of me. But he started advancing towards me and i didnt know what to do– I'm just the town’s baker! Well, suddenly, seemingly from nowhere, this large creature leapt over me and started protecting me from the villager. He curled around me and growled, loud enough to scare them off.”

“What did it look like?” Keith prods. He was so glad he ran into Hunk.

“He.” Hunk corrects.

“I'm sorry. What did he look like?”

“Well, he was large. Like larger than me. Covered in this grey fur. And had this bushy tail.”

It fits the same description that Lance had given. What kind of monster is larger than a man, and as furry as an animal?

“A werewolf.” Keith breathlessly says.

Hunk swallows harshly. “I think I've said too much.”

Keith turns off the recording. “This is off the record. Between just the two of us, did it seem like a werewolf?”

Hunk shakes his head. “Seriously, I said more than I meant.”

At this point, Keith was talking more to himself than hunk. “No wonder you’re protecting this werewolf– his human form lives amongst you! Be honest, do you know who he is?”

Hunk stares at him with sad eyes before shaking his head. “I don’t. And honestly? You shouldn’t either. Whoever it is is a good person. And if you keep prodding where you’re not welcome, you’ll just be making enemies in the town.”

Before Keith could respond, Hunk turns and walks away, casually taking his steak further into the woods. Keith’s instinct is to follow, to press for more, but the sinking sun—casting long, eerie shadows over the trees—gives him pause. His grip tightens on the recorder for a second before he sighs and stuffs it back in his pocket. It’s best not to stay out too late, just in case something is out there. Well, correction. Something is out there, but Keith is not prepared to find it– him– quite yet. 

With one last glance toward Hunk, Keith hesitates. Reluctantly, he turns and heads back to his house, the crunch of his footsteps in the underbrush the only sound as the last of the daylight slips away.

[johnentwistlesbassguitar]

Pairing: Keith Emerson/Greg Lake

Rating: explicit

Warnings: dubcon...sorta

Word count: 2k

Hmm this is very different than what I normally post but I've had this fic sitting in my notes app for a while and deciding its good enough to post, basically it's Keith's first time with a man and that man happens to be Greg ;)

Keith always felt pent up after a show, maybe it was the thrill of being in front of such a large audience, or his habit of humping keyboards. But one thing was for certain his pants were getting tight in the crotch area and he needed some action.

Backstage Greg was sweaty and still catching his breath. As soon as he saw Keith he could sense the tension, he was flushed, and walking in a way that suggested he was trying to hide something. So many times this had happend and so many times Greg had let Keith find some random chick to satisfy his urges but not tonight.

As Keith walked by Greg tugged on his wrist, stopping him from leaving. Without making it far too obvious he pulled Keith down to his level so he could whisper in his ear.

"I know what you want" he spoke slowly lowering his voice a little "there's a supply closet just down the hall"

He'd taken the boldest approach and was unsure what he would do if he got turned down. Anxiously Greg watched Keith for any kind of reaction, he was clearly surprised either by the fact that Greg wanted him or that it was so obvious he needed to get fucked.

Greg exhaled and Keith shivered at the feeling of his warm breath. He shook a little trying to formulate a response, he could sense Greg getting impatient. Keith's face grew warm and his palms were getting sweaty, he wanted this Keith had known he liked men for a while just hadn't had the opportunity to act on it yet. He was just shocked that Greg of all people would offer to "give him a hand".

"Sure.." he stuttered trying to keep the desire out of his voice.

Greg giggled, and looked around to make sure they were mostly alone before sliding an arm around Keith's slim waist. He walked slowly to make Keith more desperate as he whispered sweet and dirty things in his ear.

"You know...you looked gorgeous out there tonight" he smirked "I can't wait to see what you look like when I make you beg for it"

Greg felt the way Keith tensed under his grip and it only encouraged him. Keith's thoughts were racing and Greg's arm felt heavy and warm on his bare waist. The contact was making his already horny thoughts so much more heinous.

"I can't wait you hear you scream and moan my name in you're cute little voice" His voice dripped with sensuality.

At this point Keith's pants are wet with precum and his legs are starting to tremble. God Gregs deep voice turned him on. He wasn't used to this kind of attention from a man, especially not Greg. It left him wondering if this was some kind of prank, he was too nice for that though and Keith knew it.

Greg pushed open the closet door with the arm that wasn't holding Keith and audibly sighed in relief when he saw there was a lock. He made sure to close the door gently to not attract the attention of anybody lingering backstage.

Greg quickly pinned Keith up agaisnt the wall making sure he couldnt move too much, it was a tiny room but they could make do. He started to strip Keith, he fought back a little out of instinct but Greg could handle him. Greg found it adorable the way Keith blushed and whined as he was undressed.

"Shhhh relax, I won't hurt you" Greg winked.

Goosebumps covered Keith's body and he stared at Greg with wide glassy eyes. His dick was painfully hard and he was ready to start pleading. Keith had no idea of what Greg's plan were for him, it made him even more turned on thinking about all the depraved fantasies he could have forced on him. It was too much to bear, Keith let a soft whine escape his lips as a way to get Greg going.

Greg was too busy admiring Keith's beautifully thin body, the way his ribs were slightly visible through his skin, and how his waist curved, and his skinny but not awfully lanky limbs. He ran his hand over Keith's torso, he wasn't awfully hairy but his chest and stomach had a thin layer of fuzz. As his hand approached Keith's stiff dick he paused wanting to make things last longer.

He let go of Keith only to remove his own pants and underwear. Greg chose to keep his top on as a way to appear less vulnerable.

Keith was really shaking now, he was too horny to regret anything yet but damn was Greg larger than Keith expected him to be. His hard, veiny cock throbbed and dripped tantalizingly.

Greg smirked "what're you staring at?" He asked teasingly. Looking down at Keith through half lidded eyes.

Keith's lips parted slightly, he could only whimper in response. His face was warm, he felt overly exposed and wanted to take a breather.

Greg cupped Keith's face "come onnn" he drawled "use your words like a good boy".

Greg was taking full advantage of their height difference to loom over Keith. Keith knew Greg had the size advantage here was no way he could over power him, no escape he was Greg's bitch for the time being.

Keith inhaled and pushed out a single "please" his voice was high and whiny but he wasn't able to be embarrassed, he needed this.

"Hmmm" Greg raised his eyebrows at Keith and made a smug face "could you repeat that"

Bastard, Keith thought he let his chest rise and fall dramatically then said again, louder "please" He looked up at Greg with large pitiful eyes.

Greg rolled his eyes but was too hard to keep this going any longer. "Turn around" he said as he took Keith by the shoulders and pushed him back up against the wall, ass facing him.

Keith shook and whimpered as Greg got him into position. "I haven't even done anything yet" he berated trying to sound annoyed but he found Keith so adorable. He looked so submissive bent down arms braced against the wall with his tight little butt facing upwards.

Greg tugged on Keith's hair to pull his head back and stuffed two fingers in his mouth. "Suck"

Keith did as he was told even if he wasnt sure what was going on. When Greg pulled his fingers away, he quickly without warning plunged one into Keith's hole.

"God you're so tight" he half complained as he tried to loosen Keith up.

Keith whined and jolted in response, he'd never done this before of course he was tight. It shocked him how experienced Greg seemed, he'd need to ask him about it later he had a sneaking suspicion Greg was fucking around with a lot of other men.

Greg's impatience was getting the better of him when he considered ditching the prep and going for it. It would hurt Keith but damn would it feel good. Fuck it, he decided he'd probably heard that his first time would hurt anyways. If Greg was being honest the power was going to his head he wanted to see Keith whine and cry for him like a dog.

He retracted his finger and aligned his hips with Keith's hole, "ready?" He couldn't keep the arousal out of his voice.

Greg didn't wait for a reply, he inserted himself into Keith's entrance violently. He felt Keith's body tense around him and it pulled a groan from deep inside his chest.

Keith screamed and braced himself against the wall. He was panting from the sharp pain, his legs felt like they were going to give out from under him. His eyes watered a little from the ache that spread through him. It felt good though, or he wanted to make himself think it felt good.

Greg took hold of Keith's slim hips so he could thrust deeper and harder. He shook and tried to jerk out of his grasp but Greg dug his nails into Keith's skin like an animal. Greg was going to get what he wanted, he needed it Keith was far to perfect and only his for right now.

Keith cried out in protest, it didn't deter him at all though. Very slowly Keith started to adjust and pleasure took over his mind. Keith moaned and screamed, Greg didn't even think to tell him to shut up. They both just silently prayed there was no one close enough to hear.

Greg moved one of his hands away from Keith's hip to cup around his waist and stomach. Warmth radiated from the area, Greg could feel the thin layer of sweat on Keith's skin from all the rough movement.

"You feel so good" he panted. "You're such a good boy Keith" praise started fall from his lips before he could stop it.

"You're so cute, God look at yourself you're a mess for me".

Greg moaned into Keith's ear, panting against his face as he thrust deeply in and out. He couldn't stop admiring Keith's beauty at the same time though, he was so handsome yet fragile in a way that made Greg want to break him.

He paused and carresed Keith's body as his thrusts calmed down a little "beautiful" he whispered.

Keith's body responded to the praise in a way he found humiliating. His face was pink and sweaty and his cock throbbed, he wanted Greg so bad. It hurt but his body craved release.

Keith huffed "I need you" his voice was high and brittle.

Greg heard him clear enough though and picked up the pace. "You're so eager, my little slut" he said in a deceptively sweet voice.

He dipped his head into the crook of Keith's shoulder as he thrusted and sunk his teeth into the soft skin there. He was met with a low moan in response, he could feel Keith's trembling now.

The small room was filled with sounds of pleasure and occasional yelps of pain. Pure heat radiated off of them as they both started to grow desperate. Tears streaked down Keith's face as Greg continued to pump his hips into Keith's aching ass.

Greg bit down again as he climaxed and came inside Keith's shaky little body. Keith cried out from the foreign sensation and the feeling of Greg's teeth breaking skin.

Instead of pulling out Greg lingered inside and rested his cheek on Keith's soft hair. He moved his hands up from Keith's slender frame to brush the tears from his eyes.

"You did so good" Greg's voice came out squeaky and breathless.

Greg pulled out but Keith whined "Greg.." he was pouting now. Why did it have to stop but more importantly why did Keith want something that hurt enough to make him sob.

He pressed himself up against Keith's bare back "you're so needy" he sighed placing a small kiss on Keith's head.

Greg stayed like that taking in the warmth of Keith's body. Keith wanted Greg to take his shirt off but he didn't think to ask. He did know something else to ask for though.

"Greg, suck my dick" he chuckled breathlessly at his own request. If Keith didn't get to cum he was going to explode or at least punch Greg in his smug face.

Greg was a bit surprised by Keith's boldness but he deserved it after being so good for him. To be honest he felt a little guilty for being so violent with somebody like Keith, he deserved to be treated softly.

Keith positioned himself against the wall in a way that put his dick right agaisnt Greg's belly then directed him to get on his knees.

Before Greg got started Keith also requested he get naked also which bothered him a bit but he wanted to make Keith feel good so he did it anyways. Keith just wanted them to be equally exposed, Greg didn't have any type of high ground over him if he was fully naked and on his knees. Also, Greg was gorgeous and Keith needed to see all of him.

Greg wrapped his lips around Keith's hard cock and ran his tounge over the tip. He let it fill his mouth as he sucked and moaned around it. This wasn't his first time giving a blow job, though Keith was much more...responsive then most other men.

Keith planted his hands in Greg's hair as he started thrust into his mouth. He gagged and Keith giggled like a maniac. Greg wanted to tell him off but he couldn't even manage an eye roll at the moment.

Greg could feel Keith's dick throb as he desperately thrust deeper and deeper. Greg's eyes were watering now. Above him Keith was groaning and whining for more.

Quickly without warning Keith came down Greg's throat, he was in too deep so his only option was to swallow. He howled in pleasure as he finally got the release he was craving.

Greg pulled away, he was panting heavily. Keith took this opportunity to kneel down and plant a sloppy kiss on Greg's soft lips.

At first he didn't respond but he started to kiss back hungrily, wrapping his arms around Keith and pulling him in close. They were both naked and sweaty kissing all over each other, enjoying the warmth and skin on skin contact.

Greg pulled Keith on top of him and held him tightly, in response Keith planted a little kiss on Greg's soft cheek.

"You make such a good pillow" Keith said before burying his face in Greg's chest.

Greg sighed happily and figured he could stay here with Keith a little while longer.