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roundab00t · 4 years

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Hidden in the Sand | T | BNHA | TDBK | fake dating, angst, slow burn, idiots to lovers | Ch. 3/? | 8,6k/21k | ao3

Summary:

Shouto is staring down the barrel of an unwanted quirk marriage that he can't get out of on his own. Bakugou (reluctantly) helps.

—

Excerpt:

“Why did you come here?” Shouto finds himself asking, still reading. He taps his finger to Bakugou’s paper beside his own. “Not that I don’t appreciate it, but you clearly don’t need any help.”

Bakugou pinches the bridge of his nose — now whole and intact with only the slightest shadow of a bump to hint at the break. It makes him look older, in a strange sort of way. Shouto wonders idly if Recovery Girl could have fixed that as well as the break, or if she chose not to.

“Of course I don’t,” Bakugou bites back, as though he has made some sort of point. His hand drops down to his lap, palm dragging down his thigh like he’s wiping it clean.

He glares at Shouto from the corner of his eye, and Shouto stares right back. The quiet of the library settles like a blanket around them. A tension grows along the line of Bakugou’s shoulders as Shouto waits for him to continue. It winds tighter and tighter, like a rubber band about to snap.

Then all at once, a groan, thick with frustration, bursts out from Bakugou’s chest. It’s gunshot-loud and echoes through the stacks. Shouto hears someone else huff in response, and a textbook snap shut, but he’s too busy studying the way Bakugou’s face screws up before disappearing behind his palm to find the source and apologize.

Bakugou’s chin tips back, blond hair brushing the back of the chair when he slumps, and he glares up at the vaulted ceiling, thinking hard. Privately, Shouto just thinks he looks constipated.

“If I help you—” Bakugou says like a threat, jabbing the point of his finger in Shouto’s direction.

“You’ve already helped me,” Shouto tells him slowly, not quite comprehending what it is that Bakugou wants. He gestures at the report he will be spending the rest of the night rewriting to accommodate Bakugou’s suggestions. “Thank you.”

Bakugou continues over him, louder, as if Shouto had never spoken. “ If I do this, this playing house with you bullshit, what the fuck do I even get out of it?”

His words are a cold stone dropped directly down Shouto’s esophagus. As much as he hates to admit it, Shouto hadn’t actually thought that far ahead.

(Read the rest on AO3)

#bnha #tdbk #fake dating #angst #slow burn #idiots to lovers #chapter update

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roundab00t · 4 years

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From April 7, 2020 to April 30, 2020, the contributor applications for Phoenix: From the Ashes is live! The number of positions available will be detailed below - but we will be looking for a total of 17 writers, 21-27 artists and 5-8 digital merch artists.

Please ensure that you have the minimum number of samples and/or a portfolio prepared for your application and that you are thorough with your responses. If you haven’t already done so, please also familiarize yourself with our FAQs and Schedule, and check out our Contributor Requirements to see what we expect of you. All application requirements are also specified on our Carrd and in each application form.

Writers: https://forms.gle/vDe6fy8f4pxE3M3u6 We will be looking for 8 SFW (Phoenix: From the Ashes) and 9 NSFW (Phoenix: Hellfire) writers.

Artists: https://forms.gle/ehDFbiEBVrUANEAh9 We will be looking for 11-14 SFW (Phoenix: From the Ashes) and 10-13 NSFW (Phoenix: Hellfire) artists.

Merch Artists: https://forms.gle/VHNfzoP72GVPToBm7 We will be looking for 3-4 SFW (Phoenix: From the Ashes) and 2-4 NSFW (Phoenix: Hellfire) artists.

Good luck to our prospective applicants, and we hope to work with you soon on the team! If you have any further questions about the applications (or about the zine in general), feel free to ask us here or on our Curious Cat.

Keep reading

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roundab00t · 4 years

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roots we grew down deep | G | 1.7k | S8 Fix It | @alluraliveszine | ao3

"The Lions return on a Wednesday."

---

I had the incredible fortune to work with an incredible group of very skilled and talented artists and writers and mods to raise money for an incredible charity (Gyrl Wonder) and give Allura the happy ending she deserves.

I love this little fic. It’s probably my favourite one I’ve written for VLD. And I was even more lucky to get to work with the wonderful @lyssartandstars, who created the beautiful companion piece to my fic.

I hope you guys enjoy reading it as much as I’ve enjoyed working on it.

#voltron legendary defender #allura lives #allura #coran #season 8 fix it

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roundab00t · 4 years

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tell them i ain’t coming back | T | Gen | 3,5k | @serendipity-zine post | ao3

Summary:

Control, Krolia had murmured, demure and poised and powerful through the haze of incense smoke and the steam of carefully-prepared tea. Control is the first lesson a Companion learns.

Control, Keith thinks, glaring down the barrel of their guns. His fingers flex and bunch, hidden in his long sleeves, itching for the hilt of the knife strapped high on his thigh. He forces each joint to uncurl, and the tension from his shoulders, and tips his chin up. His mouth curls as both hands raise, fingers splayed and palms out, as he walks out to meet them.

When an undercover mission goes wrong, Keith finds himself getting a helping hand from Captain Shirogane and his Firefly class ship Voltron.

- - -

Excerpt:

The coarse desert grit bites through the thin soles of Keith’s borrowed sandals as he slips out from the safety of his shuttle pod and into the quiet docking bay. The hot, harsh wind of the half-terraformed moon smacks him in the face—earthy and breathtaking after long, quiet hours spent breathing the dry, canned air in deep space. He takes a moment to scan the horizon, breathing deeply. The scent of sagebrush and sweet grass swirls in his lungs; lingers at the back of his throat. It tastes like home.

Keith nods at the squat, graying attendant who, roused from surveying the sleepy not-quite-port with glazed eyes, comes sniffing for credits. Keith’s spine straightens from his tired slouch and, with the echoes of his mother’s whispered words lingering in the back of his mind, he rolls his shoulders back and forces a smile that feels foreign on his mouth.

“This is a quick operation,” Ulaz rumbles in Keith’s ear, as Keith shuffles his wine-dark silk robes around his shoulders and drops a smattering of thin silver coins into the attendant’s palm. The small, flesh-toned comms unit tucked in Keith’s ear behind his carefully combed mess of hair hisses and spits, static interference bleeding down the line before Ulaz’s voice trickles back in. “We move quickly, in and out, informational retrieval only.”

Keith hums and bows his head, just slightly, and makes a show of tucking a single lock of hair behind his free ear the way he’d practiced over and over in the mirror. His fingertips linger on the man’s outstretched palm, calloused tips dragging from the center down the line of his middle finger, and the man flushes dark. His eyes slide up and down Keith’s body, drinking him in, as his tongue darts out to wet his lips. It’s almost galling, to smile and demur for a stranger, but there is something darkly entertaining in the way the man stumbles, tripping over his own feet as he twists to watch Keith walk away.

(Read the rest on ao3)

#VLD #vld keith #firefly au #aka the fusion fic that merges vld and a fandom thats 17 years old that no one asked for but boi howdy did i ever give it to you anyway

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roundab00t · 5 years

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unusual inheritance fic prompts:

1. “you died and left me your children, even though they’re only a few years younger then me”

2. “you died and left me a haunted house”

3. “you died and left me an obscure magical object, I’m not sure what it does, and your instruction sheet just says ‘have fun storming the castle!’”

4. “you died and left me a fanatically loyal warrior order”

5. “you died and left me a bunch of money and a pile of really weird IOUs?! why did someone owe you a free body disposal. why did someone owe you two brides and a goat. why did someone owe you an island. WHY”

6. “you died and left me to repay a bunch of really weird IOUs”

7. “you died and left me a small country”

8. “you died and left me six research labs that operate in international waters and I’m kind of scared to find out why keeping them out there was a stipulation of the will”

9. “you died and left me a menagerie of animals that are supposed to be extinct? and some that aren’t supposed to be real??? where did you get unicorns. where did you get gryphons. where did you get pegasi???”

10. “you died and left me on the hook for a hereditary marriage contract”

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roundab00t · 5 years

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FULL BUNDLE GIVEAWAY!

Wanting one of our gorgeous Royal Bundles? We’re giving away a full bundle to one lucky winner!

The Royal Bundle includes both a PDF & Physical copy of the zine, one mini print, two sticker sheets, one die-cut sticker, & one acrylic charm!

Details on how to enter:

Reblog this post to enter

Must be following the Allura Lives zine blog

No giveaway blogs

One winner will be drawn when preorders close

Get an extra entry by also retweeting our giveaway post on twitter!

If the winner has already purchased the zine, we will refund your purchase and upgrade you to the Royal Bundle (if you hadn’t already opted for it!)

Preorder here: alluraliveszine.bigcartel.com

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roundab00t · 5 years

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I am so excited to share my official zine preview for the @alluraliveszine!

Allura Lives is a phenomenal zine full of incredible, high-quality fanworks, all devoted to celebrating Allura and the long, happy life she deserves. Everyone involved has gone out of their way to make sure she gets her happy ending.

Pre-orders are currently open!

All proceeds from the zine go to Gyrl Wonder, an incredible charity that provides resources, mentoring, and support for young women and girls. Ream more about them and their mission here.

>> https://alluraliveszine.bigcartel.com/

#voltron #vld #allura #allura lives zine #i'm in this one #seriously though this zine is fantastic

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roundab00t · 5 years

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Hello everyone! As the title says, this is an interest check for an Allura-centric event! Much of the blog is still under construction, so we are rolling out the interest check first.

The ‘AU’ aspect will go like this: it can be canon-divergence, it can be a complete AU, anything goes so long as Allura does not die. If interested, fill in the survey linked below!

FORM here

Any questions, feel free to ask!

@vldquintessential @quiznakchronicle

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roundab00t · 5 years

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I'm so happy to have gotten the opportunity to create this Firefly AU for the @serendipity-zine. I love this piece so much, and I'm so excited to share it. I'm also excited for everyone else to get their hands on copies of this zine! All the pieces I have seen so far look absolutely fantastic!

Preorders are still open! They'll remain open until 8/4!

You can snag yourself a copy and get all the AU Keith's in one place at https://serendipityzine.bigcartel.com/

#voltron #vld #vld keith #serendipity #serendipity zine #look ma im in this one #seriously please buy this #its pretty cool #voltron zine

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roundab00t · 5 years

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this is really me guys

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roundab00t · 5 years

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I am so proud of and excited for this zine. It is a fantastic one, brimming with stellar works celebrating Allura and her long and wonderful life after season 8. For more information, please check out @alluralives on twitter or @alluraliveszine on tumblr.

All proceeds from the zine will be going to Gyrl Wonder, a charity focused on supporting and raising up girls and young women of colour. For more information about Gyrl Wonder, please check them out here.

Preorders go live in August!

#voltron #vld #vld Allura #Allura lives #allura lives zine #voltron: legendary defender #allura deserved better

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roundab00t · 5 years

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And here is our complete contributor list! We can’t thank all of you enough for being part of our team and making this zine come true!

Artists

Writers

Merch Artists

It’s an honor flying with all of you!

#hey look #im in a thing

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roundab00t · 5 years

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carved a wooden heart | T | Sheith | Ch. 1/2 | 9,6k | ao3

Summary:

Keith pulls his pilfered hospital blanket tighter around his shoulders and, without looking, firmly tells Krolia, “Kosmo is off chasing Kolivan, he’ll be back soon enough. I don’t need a minder.”

There is a hitch in the approaching footsteps, and a quiet exhale of breath that isn’t quite a laugh. Shiro sits on the cold hard concrete at Keith’s left, ghost of smile curling at the corner of his mouth.

“Good thing I’m not one, then.”

Or, Keith is stuck in the hospital, juggling the effects of the Komar Mech and a head full of memories from futures that have not come to pass. Shiro helps.

---

Excerpt:

Shiro finds him sitting in the centre of his bed, wrapped in his dust-covered blanket, once again watching motes of dust dance in the strong sunlight filtering through the glass. Keith picks a loose thread at the blanket’s fraying hemline. His fingers itch with the want to feel the cool hilt of a sword between them. He tugs at the loose cotton to keep from tugging at the peeling skin of his softening hands.

Keith can feel the weight of Shiro’s eyes on the back of his neck, heavier the longer Keith sits, facing the window, unmoving. Body too slow, lethargic, Keith feels trapped in amber, like an insect held captive, while the world rotates around him. He breathes evenly through his nose, and tries not to feel envious of Shiro’s energy, or the strength of his shoulders, or the actual clothing on his back. The central air kicks in, chugging a little. Keith suppresses a shiver as the cool, dry air skates across the bare skin of his shoulders where he hadn’t had the strength to lift his arms long enough to tie the gown strings. He tugs the blanket a little tighter around him.

A warm hand smooths down Keith’s unkempt, tugged-on hair, heedless of the way it has gone tangled and slightly stringy at the temples. The thin cot creaks and dips where Shiro takes a seat beside him. Keith watches him from the corner of his eye as Shiro surveys the pockmarked and cratored ground just barely visible over the Garrison boundary walls, looking straight through the golden dust motes above the heater.

“How’s it going on the outside?” Keith asks, like he hasn’t already gotten a full rundown from Krolia, and Kolivan, and every other warm body unfortunate enough to grace the inside of his room since he has woken up.

Shiro hums, noncommittal, under his breath and pushes aside Keith’s steadily growing mane. He tucks it over Keith’s left shoulder, and tugs at Keith’s biceps until Keith twists, facing away from Shiro, to let Shiro tie neat little bows in his dangling strings. His flesh and bone fingers linger at the knob of Keith’s spine, tapping a neat little rhythm once he's finished.

“Not bad,” he finally says, then pauses, corrects, “about as well as expected.”

Keith doesn’t even pretend to hide his snort as he leans his full weight back, swaying into Shiro’s space to knock into him, nearly nudging him off the foot of the bed. “Yeah, sure, of course. Everything’s five by five.”

A thick thumb takes advantage of Keith’s relaxed shoulders to navigate the gap in Keith’s blanket, seeking out his arm pit and digging in, wriggling. Keith jerks forward, choking on an aborted laugh, and snaps his arms in close to his sides. He eels toward the head of his bed on his knees. The cot creaks ominously when he twists, lands on his bottom, and pulls the blanket around him like armour. He hunches forward, as if the thin sheet could repel Shiro’s prosthetic.

“That’s right,” Shiro tells him, dry as dust, letting Keith escape across the mattress only to pinch at him through the fabric, right above his elbow. He slumps back onto his left hand, braced against the mattress, heedless of the way it wrinkles his neatly pressed uniform. “There is absolutely no controversy. Rebuilding without Voltron is going flawlessly, and humanity is taking the immigration of alien rebels into their fractured society with all the grace and poise it has historically accepted every other group of people in need with notable differences. There is no war in Ba Sing Se.”

(Read the rest on ao3)

#sheith #VLD #vld shiro #vld keith #do you ever publish a chapter of a fic and then forget to plug it for like a month #chapter 2 is a work in progress i swear

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roundab00t · 5 years

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AO3 is for all kinds of fanfic

And other fanworks, for that matter, but let’s talk about fic: When AO3 was proposed, it was in response to Strikethrough and other similar events. Livejournal deleted a lot of accounts without bothering to distinguish between actual pedophiles, survivor support groups, and 100% consensual fantasy fandom activities being done by adults with other adults (most of which involved RP accounts for 16-year-old Harry Potter characters anyway).

I helped write the first AO3 Terms of Service and set up the Abuse committee. AO3 was always intended to be welcoming to all kinds of fic, no matter how dirty, sick, socially unacceptable, bizarre, or out of fashion. During those initial TOS talks, we specifically discussed grotesque RPF snuff porn as the test case for something all of us on the committee found distasteful but would nonetheless defend because, by defending it, we created a space where all of our own favorite things were protected too.

Policing fic content is a slippery slope. Even if you only police the “worst” stuff, you create an environment where the more sensitive authors and no few of the ones “shipping to cope” are no longer comfortable posting at all. Attacking people for posting fic about rape/abuse/etc. is demanding that all survivors disclose. No amount of whining and backtracking will change this fact. It is a disgusting behavior that drives people from your fandoms and creates needless misery while adding nothing of value to the community.

If you want to kick certain kinds of content off of AO3, you do not belong on AO3 in the first place.

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roundab00t · 5 years

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ig / twi

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roundab00t · 5 years

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Send me a Ship and a Number and I will Write a Kiss

…good morning.

…goodnight.

…goodbye.

…where it hurts.

…where it doesn’t hurt.

…on a falling tear.

…to shut them up.

…in secrecy.

…in public.

…desperately.

…in joy.

…in grief.

…discreetly.

…casually.

…passionately.

…lazily.

…to distract.

…as encouragement.

…for luck.

…on a scar.

…on a place of insecurity.

…in a rush of adrenaline.

…in relief.

…in danger.

…as a ‘yes’.

…as an apology.

…as a suggestion.

…as a lie.

…as a promise.

…as comfort.

…after a small rejection.

…to wake up.

…forcefully.

…to pretend.

…to gain something.

…to give up control.

…without a motive.

…because they’re running out of time.

…because time’s run out.

…because the world is ending.

…because the world is saved.

…out of pride.

…out of greed.

…out of lust.

…out of anger.

…out of envy or jealousy.

…out of spite.

…out of habit.

…out of necessity.

…out of love.

#prompts #i am in the mood to do this #if anyone is in the mood to prompt #no holds barred yall

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roundab00t · 5 years

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@vldnsfwbigbang

somewhere between midnight and 2 am | Explicit | Sheith | 17,3k words | ao3

Summary:

“Come on,” Keith calls. “It’s literally one of your last nights on Earth. Are you really gonna spend it moping on a balcony and avoiding the people in your own house?”

When Shiro laughs again, it’s full-bodied for the first time all night. His feet kick up puffs of fine dirt as he trails after Keith down the short path. “I mean,” Shiro says, “that was kind of the plan.”

“Your plan sucks,” Keith tells him, slinging his leg over the streamlined body of the hovercraft. He leans forward, rests his elbows on the handlebars.

- - -

Excerpt:

There are deep smudges like darkening bruises under Shiro’s eyes that don’t lessen when he smiles, and are not erased by the tired hand Shiro passes over his eyes as he slouches back over the railing. Keith downs the last of his punch and leaves his cup on the seat of a nearby chair. Made brave by the alcohol leaching into his bloodstream — the last shot still sitting like a living flame in his chest — and by the excuse of his short, cropped shirt in the chilling evening air, he mirrors Shiro’s pose and tucks in a few shades closer than usual. Their bare forearms press together on the cool iron railing. They are silent as they watch the sun dip low to kiss the horizon, dripping golden oranges and rusted reds onto desert soil.

“I am,” Shiro says at last. “Nauseous, I mean. Only it’s got less to do with this—” He holds up his own empty cup, rattling the half-melted ice cubes at the bottom. “And more to do with hurtling myself, two other people, and billions of dollars’ worth of equipment out of the atmosphere at 11.2 kilometres a second in a handful of days.”

“You’ve done it before,” Keith says, picking his nails before casting his gaze to the side to study Shiro’s face in profile. “I’ve seen the model ships on your shelf, and the pictures. Read the reports, too. Apparently you’re some kind of golden boy.”

Shiro laughs; quiet, humourless, and a touch hysteric. He rolls his right wrist to one side, then the other, in an unconscious gesture. “Golden boy with a debilitating, degenerative muscular disease, about to go fiddle with delicate electronics and controls that demand intense fine motor control, on the furthest mission from Earth in Earth’s history, with a vote of no confidence from the top brass.”

His hand lifts to scruff the back of his neck, palm rasping over the soft, short hairs of his fresh undercut. Keith casts around his mind for something, anything, bolstering to say and comes up empty. His tongue feels thick, glued to the roof of his mouth.

At a loss, Keith gives in to sudden temptation and knocks his shoulder into Shiro’s exposed side, and then lingers. Shiro’s shirt is warm, slightly sweat-damp and Keith can feel the way his muscles shift and move as his chest expands and contracts with each breath.

Shiro’s breath hitches as Keith’s bare arm presses into him. It’s a pause just long enough for Keith to curl his fingers into tense, unhappy fists and start to lean away, before a heavy weight settles across the line of his shoulders. Keith blinks and then sags into the touch as Shiro settles an arm around him.

It settles something inside of Keith, something that has been lingering dark and churning at the back of his mind for weeks. He curls further into the touch, and can feel the exact moment where something cracks in Shiro’s chest, when his plastic cup clatters carelessly to the floor and Shiro slumps into Keith, buries his face in Keith’s windswept hair.

Matt’s voice echoes in the chamber of Keith’s skull. Be gentle.

“You’ve got this, Shiro,” Keith tells him, settling for honesty as his forehead comes to rest against Shiro’s collarbone. “No matter what anyone else says, I know you. I know you’ve got this.”

He feels more than hears the weak laugh that tears through Shiro’s chest. A nose digs almost uncomfortably into the top of his skull. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Keith says, as his hands find their homes at either side of Shiro’s waist, pinkies tucking into his belt loops. “And I’ll be waiting right here for you when you get back, so I can say congratulations, and, you know, I told you so.”

(Read the rest on Ao3)

#sheith #voltron #vld #vld keith #vld shiro #day 2 reblog #round writes

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