#I’m feeling angsty about Keith again

[vldsideblog]

A Keith blurb

Warnings for: Keith’s shitty childhood, naxzela and everything that happend then. And probably other stuff lemme know if I missed anything

Keith had a nasty habit of throwing himself into all situations head first without a second thought.

As a child he’d run back into his burning home to retrieve his knife, nearly giving his poor pop a heart attack. His dad held him by the shoulders as they waited for the fire department and begged him with tears in his eyes to never be so reckless with his own life again. But Keith had never been good at listening to reason.

His pop had repeated the message countless times over the years. When he climbed the tallest tree he could find and broke an arm falling from it, when he got chased by a rattlesnake after getting too close to it’s nest, when he played outside all day in the burning summer sun and got heatstroke.

And then one day it appeared his pop didn’t take his own advice either. And Keith was alone.

At first he’d tried to be good he really had, but the grief and the anger and the resentment began to weigh on him. Everyday it felt as if he was dragging a mountain behind him, and at some point he couldn’t take it anymore.

If a schoolmate’s teasing became too much he would lash out, fists always ready for a fight. If another kid at the group home stole something of his he would bite and kick and take it back. He ran away more times than he could count, reaching desperately for a better life, where he mattered, where he was more than a bad kid, where he wasn’t in pain.

Keith stole food when he was denied meals at the homes, he took up graffiti as a way to express his anger, the first time he ended up in the back of a cop car he realized how far he’d strayed from his pop’s advice. He never expected things to get any better.

Then something changed.

Someone gave him a chance to be more than a delinquent.

And Keith didn’t know how to feel about that. But he figured what else do I have going for me?

And eventually life got better. He found people who cared, folks he considered not only friends but family as well. He discovered better coping mechanisms and let himself enjoy his interests and hobbies. He no longer lived in survival mode constantly.

Sure Keith had bad days, when memories haunted him, when he couldn’t stand being around other people. He was still reckless and got into fights, but it was more rare. Life was better.

Then Shiro disappeared, and Matt was gone, and Adam was grieving. He let his temper get the best of him and he fled to the desert. The worst part was he wasn’t sure if he regretted his recklessness. The vindication might have been worth it.

And everything was empty. And time blurred. And Keith was alone again. It was almost like nothing had changed at all. Like it had been a crazy dream. He’d never left the desert.

Then Keith was in space fighting for the freedom of the known and unknown universe, and Shiro was back but he was different. He was haunted, and he wished Shiro didn’t have to experience nightmares like he did. But he did and Keith stuck by his side like the loyal brother he was. He accepted his duty as a defender easier than the others, if not for the fact that he’d always been a fighter. This time he just wasn’t protecting himself.

Then his entire world had flipped upside down, but in a completely different way than he had become accustomed to.

Keith was galra. Keith was the enemy. Keith was a monster.

He’d suspected as much, he’d always been strange to say the least. Keith couldn’t even begin to count the number of times he realized he was different. That his teeth were sharper, the dark was much of a hindrance, he could smell things others couldn’t.

But he didn’t think he’d ever get an answer, especially not one like this.

Things were tense for a while, but he was reassured that he was part of the team and nothing would change that. But over time he started to believe that less and less.

And then Naxzela happened. And Keith almost died for the cause. He was ready to follow his pop into the flames and become one with the ashes. He’d pulled the trigger and everything, it was a complete coincidence that he even survived.

And his hands were shaking on the controls. And he couldn’t breathe. His eyes were streaming, and he could barely hear someone calling his name through the radio.

Keith had always been reckless.

#vld #keith kogane #voltron #voltron legendary defender #keith voltron #keith headcanon #broganes #autistic keith #texas kogane #galra keith #fic drabble #self sacrifice #Naxzela #angst #keith angst #character introspection #I’m feeling angsty about Keith again #feel free to scream at me for this

[lovebugism]

AH HI!! so... i love the way you write ditzy!reader, and especially with steve idk it just warms my heart yk? The way they interact 😭 it's so lovely

Since I'm an angsty girly at heart, I thought about a situation where steve gets a teeny tiny bit frustrated with ditzy!reader, but it's just seconds, even less than that but it's enough to make her upset for making him upset but also a super fluffy moment between both of them and steve being mesmerized by her and just so much in love

ahh thank u lovie! pls enjoy!! — steve gets frustrated with his sensitive gf and makes up with her accordingly (hurt/comfort, established relationship, 2.7k)

fictober (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)

You keep Steve company during the last half of his shift like you always do. 

He’s grumpier than usual, though — all pouty and visibly brooding. 

You plop yourself on the front counter of Family Video and ask him what’s wrong, and he tells you that the day’s been hell and he’s just tired. There is no “but I feel better now” like there usually is when he’s upset but doesn’t want you to think it’s your fault. 

The “because you’re here” is typically implied. 

Not so much now.

You’re having the complete opposite day of your sulking boyfriend. Yours had been dreadfully boring, or at least you say it had been, but you find a million different things to tell him. You’re too excited after having spent so many hours without him, like a dog with a wagging tail. You’ve got the zoomies of the mouth, if you could even call it that.

“—And then I saw the cutest dog on the way over here. His name was Cappy, and he was huge, and the owner was so nice. He even let me pet him, and he literally felt like a cloud— the dog, not the owner.”

Steve is used to this. The whole rambling about nothing thing. He loves it about you, actually. It took him ages to coax you out of that shell after your asshole ex told you that you talked too much, convinced you that no one cared about what you had to say.

You’re more comfortable now, and Steve loves that you are, but right now he just can’t concentrate.

Keith’s been on his ass about inventory all day, and he just learned how to do it on the old, bulky computer this morning — but only after Robin made him an hour late to his shift. Everything’s just too much now. He’s overwhelmed to the point of spontaneous combustion. 

For the first time ever, you’re not helping.

“—And, like, I know when we move into our apartment, we’re technically not allowed to have pets, but like… What about a fish? Or a turtle?” you wonder aloud but don’t stop to let him answer. Sitting on the edge of the counter, you kick your feet and flit your eyes to the spotted ceiling. “What if I start feeding the deer in the woods, and they just start showing up at our backdoor? ‘Cause technically—”

“Babe, please,” Steve snaps suddenly when your sneaker knocks his chair. He’s buzzing with anger, and even though it’s not because of you, he doesn’t know where else to put it.

Your eyes go wide at the newfound bite in his tone. He’s not shouting at you, but it makes your heart stop like he is. You feel like a kid again, getting scolded for being “too much.”

“…What?” you squeak.

Steve sighs. A deep, heavy sigh. It doesn’t remove the leaden weight from his chest, though. 

“I’m… I’m really trying to concentrate here, and you’re just— you’re making it really hard,” he tells you through gritted teeth, trying hard to keep his composure.

You deflate like a popped balloon. “Oh…”

He can hear the waver in your tone, the way your voice sounds wet with unshed tears. But he’s too overwhelmed — internally raging and selfish with it. His sweltering temper makes his woe feel more important than yours.

“Yeah, so… Can you just— go bother someone else for, like, five minutes?” he asks, fists clenched on either side of the clunky keyboard, his gaze concentrated on the pixelated screen. “Robin’s probably sulking in a corner somewhere. Go find her.”

Your face crumbles like a balled-up piece of paper. Your chest gets all tight, and your eyes start to burn when tears gather behind them.

You’d always been a flower of melodrama — blooming eternally and constantly sensitive. So when Steve cut you off as you fantasized about a family of deer living in the backyard of an apartment you were supposed to share together, it felt like a knife in your chest. 

The irrational thought that he no longer wanted any of that with you was fleeting and vivid and burning. Irrational, still.

But now you’re annoying him. He’s told you as much, with an unusual harshness he’s never spat at you before. And now your fears feel much more real.

“I’m bothering you?” you ask him, barely intelligible through the whimper in your throat.

Steve huffs again. His elbows thunk against the desk when he puts his head in his palms, swiping his fingers through his hair like he always does when he’s antsy. 

“I just really need to get this done,” he tells you, softer now. He makes himself mad all over again, though, and gets sharper once more. “I need to finish this before I get fired, and then we have no apartment to move into because we have no money, alright?”

There it is. The root of all his anger. A lingering feeling of inadequacy. 

He wants a life with you, but all he’s got is a measly Family Video salary — which he’s lucky to have apparently, because he can’t seem to do anything right. It stirs like a fire in the pit of his stomach.

After another deep breath, he finally turns to look up at you. His honey eyes are wet and stern. The chiseled edges of his features are sharp. Gently, he pleads. “I really need to work here, babe.”

You nod, understanding and internally weeping. “Okay. I’m— I’m sorry, I was just— I’ve been missing you all day, and I got too excited, I think,” you confess, wringing your clammy hands in your lap like a scolded child.

“Don’t apologize,” Steve says with a huff, leaning back against the squeaking swivel chair. It’s old and has lost all its cushion. His stiff back aches all the more. There’s no relief, to any of it. 

He sits back up again and puts his unsure hands back on the keyboard. “Just— Just go, okay? Let me finish this.”

He leaves little room for argument.

You wouldn’t, though, even if you wanted to. Which you do. You’re just not strong enough.

—————

Steve tells you to go, but you end up in the kiddie corner across the store. 

Mr. Rogers puts on a bright red cardigan and sings a tune that makes you feel like crying. You sit on the color-blocked carpet, surrounded by block toys, and clutch a stuffed bunny to your chest. You can’t tell if the vintage VHS is making the screen blurry or if it’s the tears gathering heavy at your waterline.

Robin walks by you, does a double-take, and immediately reports to Steve.

“What did you do?” she interrogates with narrowed eyes, strolling up to the counter with a cart full of tapes to put away.

The hearty tap, tap, taping of the keyboard fills the silence. 

Steve doesn’t look at her until he’s finished up the last of his work. Only when it’s fully and finally complete does his hardened gaze dart to her. “What are you talking about?”

“Your girlfriend. She’s upset.”

“What do you mean she’s upset?”

Robin rolls her eyes at his obliviousness. “I don’t know. She’s singing the Mister Roger’s theme song and, like, crying. It’s weird.”

Steve’s brows pinch. His heart does, too. “Crying?”

“Well— not crying, exactly. It’s this really weird blubbering thing.” She fails to explain it so she tries to imitate it. A sobbing, sniffling sort of noise. She fails at that, too. Her scrunched face goes back to normal. “Like that.”

Deadpanned, Steve nods. “Wow, Robin. That was really helpful. Thank you.”

“Just go comfort your girlfriend, dingus.”

Steve still thinks she’s joking. Robin doesn’t lie, but she does have a tendency to overemphasize the mundane. 

He goes to see you anyway, though, and doesn’t think twice about any of it — about what Robin said or what he had said to you before that.

He finds you in the kid’s section, in front of the tiny television, surrounded by brightly colored toys. He smiles at the sight of you, exhaling a sharp laugh through his nose.

“What are you doing all the way over here, huh?” he questions to announce his arrival, which you seemingly hadn’t noticed. “This area is usually for kids, ya know? Well, kids and Dustin Henderson.”

He doesn’t sound as annoyed with you anymore. You’re grateful for that much, but you still feel a bit sick about the whole thing.

Your nervous hands pick the cotton of the fuzzy bunny in your arms. You keep your gaze on the television in front of you, but you aren’t really watching it anymore. “I used to watch this stuff a lot growing up. The nostalgia sorta makes me wanna puke. But, like, in a good way.”

Steve scoffs. “Well, maybe we should turn it off then, ‘cause if I have to clean up vomit after the day I’ve had, I might actually go insane.”

He’s kidding. Mostly. The universe tends to be cruel like that, but he’d clean up all your messes a thousand times over if he had to.

He laughs at his own joke as he crouches to sit down next to you. He bends his knees, props his arms on top of them, and looks over at you. You don’t crack a smile for him, which is weird because you always laugh at his jokes. Even the ones that aren’t funny. Especially the ones that aren’t funny.

His smile ebbs to a wavering half-smirk as he knocks his shoulder with yours. “You okay?”

You think for a moment, jutting your lips out, unblinking at the television screen. “No,” you answer after a few seconds of silence. “But I’ll get over it. I think.”

Your honesty makes his heart wrench — like you’ve wrapped both your tiny hands around the beating organ and squeezed. It knocks the breath out of his lungs, a fish so ruthlessly pulled from the water. He tries to speak through the sudden lack of air. “Wh—What happened? Was it… Did I do something? Did you—”

“No,” you cut off his stammering with a firm shake of your head. “I did something.”

“Oh,” is all he says, pink lips pouting and wide eyes darting. “What does… What does that mean? Did you, like, step on a rogue VHS or something? ‘Cause I do that all the time, and technically, that’s Rob’s fault for leaving them out, so—”

You shake your head again, digging your nails into the delicate cotton of the well-loved stuffy in your arms. “No. I was just— I was botheringyou, and now I feel bad,” you confess, all quiet like a meek child who’s learning what it means to be sorry.

Steve — your oh, so oblivious one — goes aflame with embarrassment. He’d been too clouded by his own anger to recognize the venom spilling from his mouth; to understand that it would inevitably hurt you.

With chiseled features twisted in confusion, he shakes his head and stammers. “What? No! You weren’t— You weren’t bothering me!”

You turn to look at him, for the first time since he sat down beside you. Your eyes are glassy and swimming with hurt. You try to keep your trembling features stoic. You don’t want to seem as hurt by it all as you really are. 

You feel like you should, anyway. What right do you have to be sad when you were the one being a bother?

“You said I was,” you remind him, still soft but sterner now. “You told me to go bother someone else—”

“Oh, babe…” Steve says, deflating just as you had. 

He knows how sensitive you are, how deeply you feel things. You’re vulnerable, raw — it makes everything feel more personal than it really is. It makes grumpy jabs from your dumbass boyfriend hurt like a lemon on a weeping wound.

He tries to apologize, knowing that he hurt you and that it’s not up to him to decide that he didn’t. 

“I wasn’t… I didn’t mean to, babe,” he murmurs, swiping a tense hand through his hair and then gesticulating wildly with it. “I was just being a dick, you know? I’ve been super stressed all day and—”

“Don’t apologize. I was being annoying.”

Steve blinks at you with wide, wet eyes — like you’ve hurt him by talking so cruelly about yourself. 

“Baby, no. No,” he urges, ducking down to meet your gaze when you look away from him. “I’m just an idiot, okay? I put off inventory until the last second, and Keith’s been on my ass all day about it, and I just— I took that out on you, and that’s not fair, and I’m sorry.”

You shake your head, pursing your bitten lips to the side and twisting the long ear of the bunny between your fingers. “It’s not your fault, Steve…” you murmur, almost inaudibly.

He scoffs. It sounds like a bitter laugh. “Well, actually, it kinda is.”

“I just… I don’t really understand what’s going on sometimes. Or, like, a lot of the time,” you admit with a distracted gaze, eyes flitting everywhere but to the boy beside you. You’re too ashamed to look at him now. “And it’s harder for me to know when I’m talking too much, you know? Or if I’m being super annoying.”

“I know…” Steve nods, trying his best to be sympathetic of you. He loves how soft you are — too much to understand you completely. He loves how gently you treat the rest of the world, how unusually giddy you get in your gentleness. 

You swallow through a tightening throat and shrug to pretend your world doesn’t feel like it’s crumbling around you. “And I don’t care about annoying other people— well, I do, but it’s different with you, you know? Other people can’t break up with me for being too much.”

“The idiot that told you you were too much had exactly zero personality,” Steve tells you, mostly because he means it but also to see you smile. 

You do, just barely. A grin so soft only someone deathly in love with you could see. 

“You’re never annoying me, okay? Ever. I love hearing you talk. I love having you around.”

“Yeah?” you ask him, blinking back burning tears.

“Hell yeah! You’re, like, the best part of my day! The only good part of my day, now that I think about it.”

Biting back a grin, you tease, “Well, what about Robin?”

“Robin made me late today, so we’re kinda not friends right now.”

“That’s mean,” you scold despite the growing smile on your face.

Steve shrugs. “We’ll make up before I clock out. No big deal.”

You go suddenly shy, smiling sheepish and tilting your chin to your chest to peek at him through your lashes. “Are we gonna make up before you clock out?” you wonder quietly.

“Only if you’re willing to forgive me for being an insufferable douchebag,” Steve answers, only half-joking. He very seldomly feels worthy of your softness.

You look at him with it, anyway. 

Full on beaming now, you reach across the short distance to wrap him in a firm embrace. The position is only slightly awkward. Sitting side by side with your asses on the hard carpet, your arms wound tightly around his neck — a bit like a snake smothering its prey. 

Steve feels grateful to be held so ardently. 

His nose smushes into your neck. The sweet scent of your perfume entwines with the warm scent of your sweater. He smiles into your shoulder when it makes you giggle. You pull back from him then, just to steal a quick peck a moment later. Your lips smack audibly against his grin.

“Can we make out before you clock out?” you lilt with a shy smirk.

“…That is the single best idea I’ve heard all day.”

Your giggle fills the empty store when Steve rises suddenly and pulls you with him. He leads you toward the back, tugging you by the hand down the short corridor and rambling all the way. “Keith left for the day, so his office is empty, which means it’s fair game—”

“I am not making out with you in Keith’s office!”

“But his desk chair is crazy comfortable, and also, he’s a dick, so… who cares?”

#published by bug #steve harrington x reader #stranger things x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #stranger things imagine #stranger things #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #st drabbles #stevie drabble #event: fictober!

[autisticlancemcclain]

secret santa for @leenfiend

“And you two…”

Shiro turns to look at them both, eyes narrowed, hand on his hip. Even being half-held up by Allura, Keith wants to straighten up on reflex, dust off his armour, stand at attention. He breaks away from the heavy stare, glancing over at Lance, only to find him already looking. He sneers when Keith makes eye contact, and in seconds they’re turning away from each other, scowling.

“Yeah,” Shiro sighs, looking down at his comm. “Yeah, I gotta do something about you two.”

———

The something, it turned out, was busywork.

Keith thinks he might strangle his brother. Keith knows he and Lance have been…difficult, the past few weeks — although for the life of him he could not tell you why — but sending them on some stupid mission that was so clearly just meant to waste time was just insulting.

Keith huffs, looking at the mission file again.

MISSION FILE: 24-62-XC

OBJECTIVE: find bananas. or something i dunno

PERSONEL: idiot a and idiot b. shiro said to erase that and write your names but your bickering has been driving me insane so no. suffer

LOCATION: Kunedg-12-2

DANGER LEVEL: none unless you kill each other lol

He reminds himself to mess around on Pidge’s laptop the next time she leaves it unsupervised. This whole stupid file is embarrassing, but the disrespect of the mission objective has to be the worst part. She couldn’t even bother pretending to come up with one.

“Could you maybe go brood somewhere else?” Lance snarks, startling him out of his thoughts. He lifts a delicate hand off the joystick to pinch his nose like something reeks. “Your emo-ness is throwing off my vibe and your angsty sweaty hormones are stinking up the place. Maybe go sit near the garbage shoot, or something.”

Keith bites back a growl, fists clenching at his side. “I smell fine.”

“Like finely chopped onions, maybe. Yuck.”

“That doesn’t even make sense!”

Discreetly, Keith lifts up his arm and takes a whiff. He scowls harder — he smells like the same space brand deodorant they all use. Lance is just being a dick for no reason, like he always is, like what got them into this stupid mess in the first place.

“Just — land the damn Lion, Lance. Try not to kill us.”

Even though he was trying to be insulting, Keith regrets it as soon as he says it. Lance’s back goes ramrod straight, like he was zapped with Pidge’s bayard, and the temp in the cockpit drops thirty degrees.

“Lance —”

“Do not even attempt to finish that sentence,” he hisses. His hands wrapping around the controls are slow and deliberate. His shoulders are straight as a ruler.

Keith sighs, tipping his head back and letting it thunk on the back of the chair. He should’ve — goddamn it. He’s not sure what he should have done, but they might as well turn around now and go back to everyone else. They could stay on this planet for days, now, and Lance won’t so much as look at him. Keith is sure of it.

“Better hold tight. Might slip on the control and oops! Mercy me. I’m so clumsy and careless, I might just kill us.”

The Blue-turned -Red Paladin accompanies every biting remark with a sharp jerk of the thrusters, shaking the whole lion around. Red must be happy to help, because the smoothness that Keith knows should usually accompany her movements is nowhere to be found — she’s letting Lance yank them around to his heart’s content. Keith doesn’t have much of a connection to her anymore, but he can almost feel the impression of her snapping her tail in indignation.

He grits his teeth, determined not to give Lance the satisfaction of reacting. Even as they do nauseating barrel roll after barrel roll, even after Lance dives and dips like a crazy person, even after he lifts his hands off the controls and lets them drop, totally free falling — Keith says nothing.

At least, not until he hears a soft, “Oh, shoot.”

“‘Oh shoot’ what?” he asks cautiously, knowing this might be a trap. If Lance bites back with oh, so you really don’t trust me to pilot!, Keith is genuinely going to stomp over there and strangle him.

“Um. So. Buckle up,” Lance says, and Keith has to bite back a scream of frustration.

Lance is no longer pulling wildly at the controls, intentionally driving like it’s the first time he’s seen an aircraft. His posture is careful and relaxed, shoulders loose and easily moveable. But his jaw is clenched, like he does when he’s stressed, and Keith begins to notice a flashing light in the corner of the stats display.

“Lance.”

“Everything is under control,” he says quickly.

“…Lance.”

“We’re not going to crash or anything,” he amends. “I didn’t — screw it up.”

He glances backwards, quickly meeting Keith’s eye, and Keith notices that his expression is pleading. Keith swallows the comment he wants to make and nods.

“But. Uh, the comm line to the team is cut off. Not sure why. Maybe the planet has bad signal? It was fine coming in. I’ll land and then we can investigate?”

It takes Keith a minute to realize that Lance is asking him. That Lance is looking at him to lead, as if Keith has ever ordered Lance around. As if it hasn’t been two ye — months. At least.

Keith clears his throat, looking away. “Yeah, dude. You’re piloting, your mission. Whatever you think is best.”

For once, Keith has said the right thing. The confirmation of control runs through Lance like a shiver, and a mix of confusion and relief and precious, precious hope flits through his dark eyes almost faster than Keith can register, then he’s turning back to face the control board.

“Cool. Hold on, there’s not much to land on here so it’ll be bumpy.”

It is bumpy. Honestly, Keith is surprised at how deftly Lance and Red land, for all he has to clench his hands around the armrests — this planet is truly just a thick nest of towering trees and curling vines. Lance has to slink Red between two trees and have her land curled around the base of one, because there just isn’t any space for her to touch down regularly.

“You managed not to kill us,” Keith tries, smiling.

Lance stares at him critically for a moment. Then, wonderfully, beautifully, miraculously, his expression clears, and he decides Keith is being genuine. The tiniest of smiles turn up his own lips, and he shrugs.

“Well, duh. I’m the best pilot out of the two of us, after all. Let’s go.”

He’s out the door before Keith can retort — maybe something along the lines of you literally ruin every single bonding moment we have ever had you actual twerp-brained fucker — and Keith is quick to follow. Any attempt at dialogue dies on his tongue the second he’s exposed to the outside air — and the wall of wet heat that slams into him like a bull stampeding in the wrong direction.

“Jesus H Christ on a one wheeled motorbike,” he wheezes. Every inch of his skin is immediately drenched in sweat. He’s never regretted his gloves more, and wishes with every fibre of his being that he’d actually listened to Shiro for once and worn his (temperature- controlled) paladin armour.

Lance ignores him, beam lighting up his face. “Oh, it’s beautiful here!”

Keith can actually feel his shirt cling to his back like a second skin. It’s disgusting.

“Huh?”

Because yeah, the planet might be pretty. It’s almost greener than Keith can comprehend – trees so tall Keith can’t even see the canopy; trunks covered in moss and vines; wide-leafed, curling bushes and plants; tropical flowers making the air smell sweet and fragrant. Keith watches as a gecko patters down a branch to rest in a patch of dappled sunlight. Pretty, sure.

But Keith is pretty sure he’s actually breathing in water. The air is so goddamn humid he’s not sure there’s actually any air in it, and he is sticky. Beautiful places are not sticky. 

Lance is already frolicking around like a goddamn nature fairy. He tugs off his jacket, tying it around his waist, but other than that he seems to revel in the humidity, breathing in deeply like he’s used to inhaling what is essentially gasified mist instead of air. He grins at the greenery like it’s familiar, despite the fact that they’ve never even glanced at this entire quadrant the entire time they’ve been in space, let alone this planet.

“You live to thrive wherever I do not,” Keith mutters, irrationally angry at Lance’s lack of suffering. He scowls at his back and says, louder, “We have a mission.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Lance dismisses, still in the trance-like glee. He twirls around to face a huge, fern like plant, reaching up to caress the leaves and pet the back of a beetle. “You and I both know it’s busywork.“

“Yeah, well, it’s an official mission and we’re Paladins of Voltron, so. Personally I take that pretty seriously.”

It’s a low blow, as bad or worse as his piloting comment earlier. He winces as soon as he says it – Jesus, when did he start trying to piss Lance off – but luckily Lance doesn’t hear or doesn’t care, already twenty feet down some random path. Keith groans quietly and stomps after him.

Ten minutes ago, Lance could have suggested they turn around and leave and Keith would’ve been on-board. Now, as stupid as it is, Lance’s delight in this planet annoys him. It’s not fair that he’s amusing himself, and Keith is miserable. They’re supposed to both be miserable.

Somehow, though, he manages to keep his commentary to himself. Part of it is watching as Lance seems to…glow, on this planet, as strange as that is to notice. The giant smile has not left his face, and the yellow sunlight trickling through the leaves looks good on him. He hums as he walks, dancing under bent branches, even refraining from holding them back so Keith can get through and waiting until Keith is just barely past before snapping the branch back so Keith gets smacked in the face. And that’s one of his favourite hobbies.

He must be in a really good mood, if he’s not finding an excuse to smack Keith.

“Can we find some stupid fruit or something and get out of here,” Keith complains, finally having had enough. Have they actually been hiking for hours? Keith feels like he’s been hiking for hours. He feels like he’s seen the same eight plants nine hundred times. Everything has coalesced into a sea of green and he’s hot, goddamnit, and he’s never regretted an all-black ensemble more in his life. Maybe he listens to Shiro next time. Well, unlikely, but –

Something smacks him in the face, and he yelps. 

He bends down to grab the weapon, seething as he hears Lance’s snickering, and comes up with some kind of round, firm…thing.

“Fruit,” Lance supplies. “Feel free to head back to Red. You go back to the others and they’ll send your ass right back, catboy. You know as well as I do.”

Keith knows this. Of course he does. But it pisses him off that Lance is so blase about it, like Keith doesn’t know, that he clenches the fruit-thing in his fists and actually does stomp back to Red, leaving Lance to take a hike. 

“God he is so annoying,” he mutters to no one, aggressively biting the fruit. It’s delicious, which only serves to make him angrier. He puts on a high, mocking voice. “You go back to the others and they’ll send you back, blah blah blah. As if I don’t know that. As if I’m dumb.”

It’s relieving to get back into Red’s interior. It’s not exactly AC, but it certainly isn’t humid central, and any break from that heat is a welcome one. He sits heavily in the pilot’s chair, relishing in the familiarity of it, and sulks.

Or, well, he tries to.

The thing about sulking is that it gets very boring very quickly. That’s why he usually expresses his sulking through incredible violence, and why he misses the castle’s training room so much. That place was great. All Keith had to do was press a button and boom, he was being attacked. The literal dream.

Bored, he swings his legs over the armrest, opening his bayard and examining it. It’s weird to have such a contentious thing. Knowing all the blood it spilled in Zarkon’s name…it’s no wonder that his brother was so quick to get rid of it. But still, it’s a tool. A tool cannot be blamed for its master’s action, that much Keith had learned in the Blades.

He lets the blade glow and shrink in his hold until its back in its dormant position. He can’t very well train in here, as much as he would like to. Both Red and Lance would kill him, probably. 

Red makes a keening noise in his head. It’s the loudest he’s heard from her in…too long, and it startles him.

“What?”

Her presence in his head gets stronger, more insistent.

“What?” he repeats, sitting straight up. “What, girl, what’s going on?”

He yelps as the floor shifts under him – Red stands up, unwinding herself from around the tree. A growl reverberates through the entire ship, making the control board vibrate. A bad feeling begins to take root somewhere in his stomach.

“Red?! Red, what’s –”

Before he can finish, she opens her great maw, and literally spits him out. She doesn’t leave him time to get offended, nudging him forward the second he gets to his feet. She growls again when he looks back at her, tilting her head at the path Lance disappeared down.

All at once, Keith gets it.

He sprints. Bayard elongating in his hand, he runs as fast as he can, hacking away branches and vines with ease – when he chances a look down, he sees that it’s taken the form of a machete. His first bayard change.

He does not have time to celebrate it. 

He can barely hear it over the sound of his own pounding feet, but there’s a rumbling, somewhere in the distance. Keith has been hearing it for a while – he thought it was Red, or maybe just jungle noises.

Now, he hears the human voice responding to it.

Something is wrong.

“Please don’t be doing something stupid,” he prays, pushing himself faster. It’s not easy. Keith is in good shape, but the humidity is knocking the hell out of him – every breath feels like it’s getting half the oxygen it should. He’s tiring fast. But the noises are getting louder, closer, and yep, that’s definitely Lance’s voice. Keith isn’t exactly sure what he’s saying, but he knows the voice, of course he knows the voice, it’s the only one that never left his head once in two years. In a last burst of strength, he sprints toward the sound, slashing a near-solid block of vines. 

He slashes the last layer of vines back, thrusting forward, and very heroically lands on his face.

“Lance!” he shouts, jumping back to his feet. He whirls around, sure this is where he heard the growls interspersed with Lance’s murmuring. But he can’t see him anywhere.

“Here,” sighs a voice.

Keith looks up and barely chokes back a scream. 

Swinging from a vine, wrapped up to his neck in a cocoon of them, is Lance – but it isn’t a vine. It’s thick like one, and smooth, but bright white. And…gloopy, almost, because Lance is not wrapped in a bunch of vines but in strands and strands of silk, and perched on – or maybe clinging to – his swinging body is the biggest spider Keith has ever seen. 

“Get off him!” Keith yells, proud of himself for how little his voice shakes.

“Oh, great plan, Keith. Order the animal around. I’m sure it’ll heed your demands and cut me free.”

Keith flushes. “Shut up,” he hisses. “Victims of Miss Spider’s Sunny Patch Gone Wrong don’t get to snark!”

Lance shrugs. “You’re welcome to climb on up here and get me to shut up.”

As if in understanding, the spider hisses, scuttling down Lance’s body and lunging towards Keith, snapping its fangs. Keith shrieks and jumps back. Luckily, the spider doesn’t go past Lance’s head.

“She’s outta webs,” Lance explains. He doesn’t even flinch as the spider’s massive butt – spinnerets and all – rest on his forehead. Keith gags. “She won’t get too close to you, you’re too threatening –”

“I’m threatening?!”

“– so you’re in no danger. You can put the weapon away.”

“Put the weapon away – Lance, did it already suck out your brains?”

Lance glares hard at him. The effect is significantly lessened as the string of webbing he’s hanging from slowly turns, forcing his eyes away from Keith, and then also, well. The massive fuckin’ bug sitting on his forehead. So.

“No, she didn’t suck out my brains. She’s an animal, Keith, not dumb. Eating me would be stupid and a massive waste. I’m too big. I just freaked her out, is all. I should’ve been more careful in approaching her web.”

Keith places his face in his hands and yells. Just – screams, for a minute. He can’t believe he ever missed this asshole. He lived two blissful, blissful years without having to deal with any of this shit. 

And now, massive spiders. 

Great.

“I hate you,” Keith says. 

Lance nods, shrugging again. “Fair. Can’t leave without me, though.”

“I think I might. I’ll tell Allura you died tragically. Moment of silence, blah blah. Then I go home and have a lovely, quiet flight the whole time.”

“Hm, that won’t work. Hunk will be desolate. Inconsolable, I would even say.”

Keith sighs. A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth, matching Lance’s grin. He cannot believe his own brain’s betrayal, allowing itself to be amused by Lance’s stupid jokes. 

“What am I gonna do about the spider, Lance.”

At its – hers, whatever – name, it hisses again. Lance remains unphased. He wriggles a little, even, as if the sharp fangs aren’t inches away from his eyeballs.

“I’m working on it, gimme a sec.”

Keith aquieses. He wants to slash through the stupid binds and be done with everything, but he’s worried that the spider might be faster than he is and hurt Lance before he can get the chance. If he can just find a way to smack the spider off…

“Hm. I got an idea. Keith, grab my comm.”

Keith bites back a comment about who should be ordering whom around, edging gingerly around the hissing spider to scoop up Lance’s dropped comm. He clicks it on, tapping in Lance’s password – 3425, spelling D-I-C-K – and holding it loosely in his freehand.

“Got it.”

“Great. Okay, open my spider translator app.”

“Your – what.”

“Spider translator app,” Lance explains patiently. “Been working on it with Coran. Spiders communicate mostly via pheromones, but a lot of ‘em use clicks, especially threateningly. I remember how to say ‘hi’ and ‘no harm’, and I think I remember the sound for ‘food’? But I’m not sure and I don’t want to say ‘no harm food’ but accident, or something dumb like that, ‘cause then she might get the wrong idea. I’m hoping for something closer to ‘no food’ or ‘bad food’. I think she kind of gets it, but she’s still spooked. If I click at her she might think I’m another spider, let me go. If all else fails we’ll use the pheromones Coran and I have stored in Red’s shipping dock, but that stuff really reeks and doesn’t really wash out so I’d rather not.”

Keith’s head starts to hurt. Vaguely, he starts to wonder if he hit his head somewhere and is now dreaming, but unfortunately this brand of weird is pretty regular Lance. It’s just been a while since Keith has been in full force of it. 

Plus, Coran has clearly been enabling. 

“I have Seen Things,” Keith says, stabbing at the stupid comm. The app is front and centre. It is used more than the actual communication app, Keith knows that because he finds the stupid spider app in seconds and literally cannot find the communication app. He is going to kill this boy, the second he makes sure he’s safe. “So many things in space, Lance. So many of them horrible. So many of them strange. You remember the blob people that talked by pissing? I remember the blob people that talked by pissing. That is less weird than this, Lance.”

The translation app is pretty intuitive. Keith will give him that. He finds a translation for ‘bad food’ pretty quickly, but can’t read what it says for the life of him. He glances up, taking in the spider and the sheer fucking size of it, and slowly extends his hand so Lance can see the comm screen. His fingers tremble ever so slightly. 

Lance has to strain his neck slightly to see the screen. Keith resists the urge to yell. But he quickly makes a series of clicks and tongue-sounds, attracting even more of the spider’s attention. It stares at him with all eight of its eyes for several minutes.

Then it turns, scuttling slightly away from Lance’s face. Keith lets out a huge sigh of relief – too soon – as the spider sinks its fangs in Lance’s chest.

Keith screams.

“Will you chill out!” Lance scolds. Keith’s screams only get louder, and he squeezes his eyes shut. “She is eating the silk, Keith, Jesus, stop yelling! I’m fine!”

“I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you –”

In minutes there’s a thunk, and a muffled “Ow.” When Keith looks up, Lance is sprawled on the ground, rubbing his wrist, and the spider is nowhere to be found.

“Are you physically fucking capable,” he says slowly, “of just – not doing stupid shit? Like at all? Maybe once.”

“Like you’re one to talk,” Lance retorts. He has a startling amount of dignity for someone with spider silk in his hair, still sat on the hard ground. “Your ass got stuck on the back of some whale for two years. Embarrassing.”

It is embarrassing, so Keith can’t retort. He makes a face and hopes it’s sufficient, but then Lance makes one right back, and he looks so fucking stupid in the fucking jungle and also kind of good for some reason and Keith’s heart is just barely slowing down, now, and his hands still shake and Lance just spoke fucking spider and Keith just.

He loses it, a little. 

He starts laughing and he can’t stop, and its so stupid, and he’s so fucking hot. His knees get weak and he’s landing on his ass, gasping for breath, Lance wheezing as he leans against Keith for support that he can’t even give. Who knows what other horrors lay in this stupid jungle – he and Lance are so loud they’re practically inviting them over – but Keith can’t stop for the life of him. His brain feels disconnected from his body. His stomach hurts so freaking badly. Every time he looks at Lance he loses it again. 

“Please take the fucking silk out of your hair,” he tries to say. Every word is interrupted by a wheezy giggle, so it doesn’t do much, but luckily Lance runs his hands through his hair anyways and it clings to his fingers instead. 

He calms, finally, keeping his attention on the strand of white silk, watching Lance’s thin fingers fiddle with it. He finally manages to calm down, too, taking huge breaths and trying to steady himself. 

“So,” Lance says when they can breathe again, “I’m sorry.”

“You should be, asshole. I thought you were gonna get eaten.”

“Oh, I’m not sorry about the spider. That was an honest misunderstanding.”

Keith sighs. For his own peace of mind, he convinces himself that Lance is joking. “What are you sorry for, then?”

Lance fiddles with the edge of his jacket. Keith notices, for the first time, that the tightly woven silk left red, raised welts around his skin. It must have been tight.

“I’ve been. A little. Standoff-ish. Perhaps.”

Keith snorts. “A little?”

“A lot,” Lance amends, smiling. He punches Keith’s shoulder. It is not gentle. “I missed you, Dropout. I didn’t expect to, and I didn’t like that I did. Misplaced aggression, all that.”

“You’ve matured remarkably in my absence,” Keith observes. He dodges Lance’s kick, but only barely. His smile hurts his face. “You’re almost, like…a real, functioning person now.”

“I take it back. You’re annoying. I didn’t miss you, all the letters I wrote you are a lie, in fact you can actually fuck right back off –”

Keith stills. “Letters.”

“– to the space whale, actually. See if I care.” Lance clears his throat. His face is getting steadily more flushed, and oh God it has nothing to do with the heat does it. “I don’t, in case that’s unclear –”

“Lance,” Keith says, a little more forcefully. Because – because oh God, this means. This means. “What do you mean, letters?”

“A new alphabet I came up with in my spare time,” Lance snaps, shoving Keith back and getting to his feet. “What do you think, you idiot.”

He tries to walk off, but Keith doesn’t let him. He wraps his hand around his wrist and tugs him back – too forcefully, accidentally, and Lance yelps as he stumbles right into Keith’s lap. Keith doesn’t stop him from moving frantically back, a little warm himself.

“Lance.” His tone is urgent. “Lance, I wrote you letters too.”

Finally, he stops squirming. “You did?”

“Yes. I don’t know if I can – I mean, I don’t have any here, but they’re stashed in Black, I couldn’t leave – oh.”

Lance’s lips are pressed to his.

Lance’s lips. 

Are pressed.

To his.

Lance is kissing him.

“Oh – oh.”

“Man, you really are an idiot.” 

His harsh words are significantly softened because they’re, y’know, mumbled into his mouth. Keith can’t quite bring himself to complain about that one, really, since Lance is warm but not suffocatingly slow and his mouth keeps curving into a smile and his lips are soft and. And. For once he’s too preoccupied to pick a real fight. 

Keith can live with him like this, he thinks.

“My letters.” Keith pulls away slightly, clearing his throat. “You can’t. Read them.”

Lance tilts his head. “Why?”

Embarrassed, Keith gestures between the two of them. “This didn’t – occur to me, Lance. So.”

A shit-eating grin curls across the Red Paladin’s face. “What didn’t occur to you, hot stuff?”

“You know,” Keith warns, glaring. His ears feel like they’re burning, and not just because of the stupid nickname. 

“I don’t!”

“You do, asshole, because you’re smirking like you do.” “No need to get presumptuous, Keithy. I simply do not understand. What didn’t occur to you –” he leans in again, breath tickling Keith’s neck and making him shudder – “me? Like…this? Close to you?” He presses a small kiss to the underside of Keith’s jaw. “...Liking you, maybe?” Keith’s breathing is embarrassingly heavy for what’s barely a little kissing. He tries desperately to get himself under control, but with Lance so, so close… “Or was it yourself you didn’t understand, hm? Wax a lot of poetic about me in those letters?”

Keith did. It’s true. He remembers one humiliating instance where he, in frustration of forgetting the details, tried to map out Lance’s face – the freckles that dot his nose, the shine of his brown eyes when he makes a perfect shot, the curve of his wide grin. He’s pretty sure ‘sparkling’ was used in description at least twice, which is…bad. 

In a last ditch effort, Keith gets his hands on Lance’s chest, lays his palms back, and shoves. When he’s flat on his back against the jungle floor, eyes wide and head tilted back to watch Keith’s face, Keith kisses him quiet. 

It works.

It works very well.

“Okay, we gotta – we gotta – not that this isn’t great, it is, but we gotta –”

Finally, Lance is the flustered one, the wordless one. Keith relishes in the feeling.

“Keith, get off, we –”

Finally, Lance succeeds in pushing Keith back. He rests on his heels, pouting (and subsequently ignoring the fact that he’s pouting, because, what kind of witchcraft).

“We have to go,” Lance says sternly. “Okay? We can – do this later. We gotta get back.”

Keith huffs. “They’re the ones who sent us away. They can deal for a few hours.”

“It’s been a few hours,” Lance reminds him. “Let’s just go, okay? Lots of excitement for one day.” He tilts his head back, smirking. “If we leave now I’ll set Red on autopilot and we can make out on the way back.”

Cold air in Red’s cockpit? Backdrop of stars and space? Somewhere to be that isn’t a jungle floor?

“Sold,” Keith says, hastily getting to his feet. The walk back to the Lion is the least complaining Keith has ever done about anything, even in his own head. 

Right before they walk into Red’s waiting and open mouth, Lance plucks a yellow, curved fruit from a tree. He tosses it to Keith, grinning widely.

“Mission accomplished.”

–––

happy holidays colleen :DD

#sorry its late!! its an unfortunate personality trait lol #vld #voltron #keith #keith kogane #lance #lance mcclain #getting together #klance #pining keith #oblivious keith #pining lance #rivals to lovers #canon divergence #? #s7 #brown eyed lance #adhd keith #fluff #my writing #fic #secret santa 2023 klance #longpost

[indycinders]

Weeping Hearts :: A Duality Fanfic

I have severe Duality brain rot, so have some angsty shit.

TW: mental health issues

Duality, Keith, and Tenebris belong to @dualityvn

Evie belongs to me <3

FU- i forgot to add this:

context - Evie and the boys have been in a poly relationship for a little while now, long enough to be talking about moving in together, however they still have their own apartments, but Evie practically lives with them anyway

~*~

Evie trudged up the steps to Keith and Tenebris’ apartment, feeling bone-weary and disheartened. Her shift at work just ended, a job that involved rigorous customer service, and the worst of the calls from the day weighed heavily on her mind.

Is it a full moon or something? Jeez, everyone’s got a stick up their ass or something.

In front of the apartment door, she fished her keys out of her pocket and reached forward to unlock it. After a little jiggle, the lock gave in, and she opened the door. An earthy smell permeated the air, slightly wet and very welcoming. That was one thing she loved; all of the plants around the apartment, from flowers to ferns and the like.

She closed the door behind her, lifting her bag over her shoulder and dropping it on one of the coat hooks. She tucked her keys inside it and turned to the rest of the apartment.

“Hey, love!” Keith’s bright face was right there, startling her.

“Oh, hi, honey,” she replied, smiling softly and reciprocating the quick kiss on the lips he gave her. 

“How was your day?” He asked, following behind her as she went to the kitchen in search for a snack.

“Mm, it was fine,” she replied, opening a cupboard and scanning its contents.

“It doesn’t sound like it was fine.” The scrape of wood against tile made her eye twitch and she knew Keith leaned against the small table in the room, wanting to be near her but not smother her, like usual.

“No, no, it was fine,” she said again, ignoring another eye twitch.

“Y-you know you can talk to me, right? I’m a good listener, e-even if I can’t help with whatever problem might have happened.” He was tiptoeing now, prying, testing the waters.

It wasn’t that Evie was abusive, or loud. She knew Keith had a prior relationship that wasn’t loving or safe to be in, just as she had. She knew that he worried about setting people off, especially people he cared for, because past trauma had conditioned him in such a way. Just as it had her.

She knew these things, but it still didn’t stop the bubbling irritation that plagued her mind and caused her neck muscles to tense involuntarily. 

“Honey,” she said through clenched teeth in a forced natural tone, “when I say things are fine, they’re fine, okay?” She breathed deeply through her nose, closing her eyes and trying to calm herself.

It wasn’t him. It was stress, her anxiety, and those stupid assholes from work that threatened her well-being just because they had to pay off their damn credit card. It’s like they think we’re giving away free money or something.

Her grip tightened on the cupboard handle when another intrusive, and dangerous, thought entered her mind. Tenebris wouldn’t bug me about my day. He’d probably just ask for me to make him a sweet snack, and see if I’d want to watch him play a game.

No, no, no. Those thoughts wouldn’t do. She couldn’t compare and contrast the two of them, because she loved both of them equally. It’s just at this moment, she could do without Keith’s sugar-sweet and caring nature.

She could feel his hesitation and awkwardness, palpable in the air between them. “I-I know. You just seem… well, a little wound-up. I’m here for you, Evie.” In a smaller, softer voice, he said, “I just want to help.”

Evie closed the cupboard with a little too much force, making it clatter loudly. She dropped her hand on the counter with a thunk and turned around to look at Keith. His eyebrows were pinched together and he was watching her closely, looking himself like he was about to run. Even though he towered over her by a full foot, he had shrunk down and looked small.

It just made her feel worse. Now her bad mood was affecting not only herself, but him as well. Her green eyes flicked away. “I’m going to get some air.”

“Evie, don’t leave–” Keith reached out for her and she held up her hand.

“Seriously, just leave me–” the fuck alone, was what she was going to say but she stopped herself when she saw him flinch. “I-I’m sorry, just… I need a moment,” she said softly and quickly left the apartment after yanking her bag off the coat hook.

She practically ran down the steps and outside the building, down the street…. She went to her favorite “hiding” place: a grassy area near a small river, hidden behind some old buildings. She sat down hard, hurting her tailbone, but she ignored the pain and stuck her hands in the grass.

After a moment, she kicked off her shoes and socks and wiggled her toes in the grass and dirt as well, something that made her feel rooted and alive. Closing her eyes, she focused on her breathing and emptying her thoughts.

Several minutes later, she was lying on her back, eyes still closed, listening to the distant sound of cars and the closer sounds of birds chirping quietly. The afternoon sun dipped lower in the sky, casting orange hues and mixing with the pale blue of the day as it gradually changed to evening.

Evie didn’t hear the footsteps approaching, but she felt Tenebris’ presence before she heard him speak.

“Should have known you’d be here,” he grumbled, plopping down beside her in a rough manner.

He never did anything in a gentle way, but it wasn’t on purpose, nor was he really aware of it. Her eyes parted and she looked over at him. He was sitting with a knee propped up and one of his arms resting atop it. His purple gaze was set on the water.

“Predictable, aren’t I?” She responded.

He didn’t say anything, just continued to sit there. She heard the familiar sound of grass being ripped up and knew that he was holding back from scolding her.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. She kept her eyes on his face and noticed that it softened slightly when he heard her.

“S’fine,” he sighed. “I mean, it’s not, but your day must have been awful for you to act like that.”

Evie looked up at the sky. It was a mix of radiant colors and she admired them quietly for a second before she started talking. “You ever just… feel like you’re only existing? You’re not living, you’re not trying to die, you’re just… there. And whatever happens to you happens because you don’t care to change anything?”

Tenebris scoffed brashly, “No.”

A small smile made her lips twitch. “I do. All the time. And I’m tired of it.” She closed her eyes again, taking a deep breath in and slowly releasing it. “I just want to be happy. I just want to be able to accept both of you, without a doubt in my mind, and I can’t, and it’s so god damn frustrating!” 

In a flash, she was scooped up and her face shoved a little roughly into Tenebris’ chest. His arms were wrapped tightly around her, one of his hands tangled in her auburn hair, the other gripping the jacket she wore. His face was buried in the top of her head, breathing in her scent while he placed a soft kiss atop it.

“I want you to be happy. We want you to be happy, Evelyn, and nothing will stop us from getting you there.” He murmured, “What do you need? What can we do?”

All at once, the tension and irritation and all the feelings she had felt throughout the day boiled over as tears. She proceeded to wrap her arms around him in turn, curling into him and ugly sobbing into his chest as she came undone.

His hand not in her hair began to rub her back soothingly, bringing a warmth to her that only the both of them have ever given to her. Soon enough, her sobs settled into shaky sniffling. She pulled away and maneuvered herself to a sitting position, wiping her eyes with her sleeve and smoothing her hair down.

“Ugh, sorry,” she mumbled.

“For what?” 

She looked at him, opening her mouth then shutting it immediately. Instead, she let out a little laugh. “D-did you not change before coming here?”

Tenebris was wearing the same outfit Keith had been when she’d gotten home. Normally, he took the time to change into something more his style when it was his time with her. The starkness of the soft colors both clashed with his blue skin and also sort of complemented it as well. 

“No,” his face turned a deep purple color. “It didn’t seem important at the time.”

She smiled, then released a short sigh. “I think… maybe I should get a different job.”

“Maybe?” He let out an abrupt laugh, but cut it short and blushed again. “I-I didn’t mean that, sorry.”

Evie shook her head affectionately. “It’s fine, no worries. But, yes. I think this is… too stressful for me right now, at least.”

He reached out and cupped her cheek, brushing his thumb over her cheekbone softly. “We agree, and maybe… maybe it’s time to look into therapy, yeah?” His voice was ever delicate and full of love.

Evie felt her eyes water, and nodded. “Y-yeah…”

“You don’t need to suffer, Evelyn. Not alone, at least. I love you, he loves you, and we only want the best for you.” Tenebris' normally tough and abrasive personality was surprisingly silky and warm when it came to reassuring her of her feelings. 

She closed her eyes again, steadying her breath and said softly, “Can I talk to him?”

“Sure,” Tenebris smiled at her. “But first…”

Gently but playfully, he grabbed her and pulled her on top of him, planting his blue lips on hers needily, smiling underneath their kiss. She squealed and giggled, running her hands through his hair and kissing him back just as needily. Sometime during this, Keith emerged and the kisses became less needy and more deliberate, slow and sensual.

Her green eyes fluttered open, meeting his blue gaze. There was hurt in his eyes, a hint of fragility, but mostly there was love. Undying, unyielding love that threatened to consume her and sparked a hunger in her chest that she’d never felt before.

Evie sat up and pulled away to get a grasp on her thoughts and to be able to fully articulate what she wanted to say. Keith followed suit and patiently waited for her, idly reaching over and taking one of her hands in his, stroking his thumb over the back of it. 

“I want to apologize, first of all, for any time I’ve ever made you feel… inadequate or unable to help me. For making things… hard, and difficult to understand how I’m feeling.” She looked out toward the water, unable to meet his eyes as she spoke. Her voice was breathy and trembling. “It’s unimaginably painful to share the worst thoughts I have, the horrible parts of myself, with someone I care about so much. It’s easy for me to express these feelings to my friends because, well, there’s no expectations there, you know?

“There’s no obligation or need for me to be perfect for them, because they already accept me as I am.”

“You’re able to tell Tenebris your feelings just fine,” he stated, sounding discouraged.

“Mm, yes, but that’s different also. He’s so… wholly himself, if that makes sense? He has no expectations for me, he never has, other than for me to just… be myself. He has no judgments because that’s just not how he is.” She explained, feeling a tinge of panic in her chest and hoping she was coming across as she wanted. “It’s not that I love him more, or I love him in a different way. It’s that I care so much about what you think of me, how you see me, that I’m afraid to show you the darkness that’s here also. With Tenebris, I already know how he feels. I already know that I can cry and scream and feel fucking insane, and he’ll still be right there, waiting with arms wide open, regardless of anything that I do.”

She turned her head to look at Keith finally, eyes shining with tears. “With you, I don’t want to see pity, or fear, when I have these moments. I don’t want to see anything but the love you feel, and it’s on me that I haven’t been able to trust you with my vulnerabilities. It’s not on you, Keith, I swear.”

Evie turned her body towards him next, reaching for his other hand and squeezing both in emphasis. “I love you. I love you, too much to afflict you with my problems. To taint you with these awful feelings of hatred and self-loathing. I can’t handle appearing anything but as how you see me in your eyes, because how you see me is exactly what I want to be, but I don’t always feel that way inside. Do you understand?”

Keith’s throat felt swollen with emotions as he listened to his darling love. She bared her soul to him, essentially, and all he wanted was to hold her and kiss away the pain, wherever she felt it. “Love, there is nothing in this world that would make me look at you differently. Nothing that would sway my heart from you. I promise you this, Evie, I will always love you, no matter what.”

Evie sobbed and threw herself at Keith this time, knocking them both over. She snuggled into his chest and let her emotions flow out. Keith rubbed her back, her arms, ran his fingers through her hair, and planted soft, loving kisses on the top of her head. When she’d finally calmed down, he helped her to her feet and they walked back home, hand in hand, feeling a thousand times lighter than before.

#cinders writes #fanfiction #duality fanfic #fanfic #angst #mental health stuffs #sort of a vent post ig HAHA i started it last night #super sorry if either of them are out of character //sobbing #alright now that's out of my system #back to our regular scheduled programming sldkjflsg

[the-kittens-of-vol-tron]

Langst: using the Taylor swift lyric "and I can go anywhere I want just not home"

Yes yes yes

Short but angsty

(I don't own any aspect of this song, all rights go to the proper individuals)

-----

Lance stared out into the never-ending space, letting Blue take control of their tract home. Home. Back to Earth. The only thing he had been thinking about since he was launched into space all those years ago. 

Hunk was rambling about seeing his family again, how old his younger siblings were, and the food he was excited to cook again. 

Pidge chimed in a lot. While she found her brother and father and knew her father was back on Earth she still missed her mom. She was excited to see her again and apologize for leaving.

Shiro talked about his fiancé, a guy named Adam. Unless Pidge’s father told everyone what happened he still thought Shiro was dead; he couldn't wait to see him again. His name was a bit familiar, Lance had seen him around the garrison.  

Keith even talked about what he was looking forward to when they reached Earth. Apparently, he wanted to see a couple of bands in concert and build a new hoverbike. 

Coran and Allura expressed their own excitement. After hearing about Earth for the past couple of they were impatiently waiting to see it for themselves. 

“What about you Lance? What are you excited about?” 

Lance fought back a frown as he thought about his family. “I’m excited to see the ocean again.” He laced his voice with fake happiness. Something he had mastered years ago. 

Everyone was clearly waiting for him to say more, but he never did. 

---

“Welcome home,” Iverson stood in front of them, a smile sitting awkwardly on his gruff face. 

After some small conversations, Iverson pulled Lance to the side, his face holding a somber expression. “Your family...they well.” He avoided Lance’s gaze, watching the others hug their family and loved ones. 

Lance nodded, feeling a bit empty inside as he watched his team. “It’s okay.” 

---

That was a couple of months ago, the Galran were officially beaten and Lance and the others were in their retirement stage already. Lance had followed his team to their homes, met their family, and tried his best to fall into his new life.

"Lance!"

He looked up from the book he was reading, his entire team standing in front of him. "Yeah?"

Shiro sent him a warm smile, "it's time for you to take us somewhere important to you."

Lance blinked at his team, why were they asking him to do this? "Uhhh...why?"

"We've dragged you around the whole world, we want to return the favor. Learn more about our favorite purple paladin." Pidge said a wide smile on her face at her own color joke.

Lance stared down at the book in his hands, "I have nowhere to take you all." He ran his fingers over the hardcover, letting his fingers trace the indent of the title. "Nowhere important like what you all have shared with me."

"Come on buddy. You said you wanted to see the ocean. Let's all go to your favorite beach." Hunk sat down next to his friend, pulling him in for a side hug.

"If I had one, I'd tell you. But seriously guys. I'm happy here, we don't need to go anywhere for me."

The team frowned at him, leaving the room in silence.

The team didn't give up, they brainstormed together, trying to figure out where they could take Lance. He hadn't seen his family since they came back to Earth, he didn't even mention them at all. He became quiet when they came back, more reserved than what they were used to in space.

Coran finally remembered a detail Lance had mentioned to him while they were still on Arus. Varadero Beach.

They had a plane reserved and everything packed that night.

Lance stared out the window, letting his vision blur on the white clouds. He had no idea where the team was dragging him, they wouldn't say no matter how many times he asked.

The plane finally began its descent and Lance felt his heart drop as he looked at the familiar ground below. Ground he never was supposed to see again.

The plane landed sooner after, the team chattering happily as they collected their things to exit.

Lance stared down at his hands, why was he here?

"Lance? Are you coming with us? The beach is waiting!" Coran called from where he stood, a bit too much sunscreen on his face and a hat already on his head.

He shook his head no.

"What do you mean no?" He could feel the team's eyes on him and he wished he stayed in bed.

"I can't...I want to go back to the Garrison. Or just somewhere else."

The team made a collective sound of confusion. Shiro quickly fell back into his leadership role and sat down in the seat across from Lance.

"Lance, we're in Cuba. This is your home. We're right next to Varadero beach...don't you want to go."

Lance shook his head again, keeping his eyes trained on his hands. "I can't."

"But you're home," Pidge said in a confused voice.

Lance shrugged.

"Can you explain? Tell us what's going on." Shiro said his voice light.

"Yeah, let us help you!" Hunk added.

Lance sighed, "y'know," he lifted his head slightly. "I can go anywhere I want." He allowed his eyes to look at his home one more time. For the last time before he reached up and closed the blind to his window.

He felt himself break slightly, trying to swallow down the emotions that he had kept buried for years. Emotions he had meticulously locked up. "Anywhere I want, just not home."

-----

I left what happened to his family open so you could decide the "issue" (did they banish him? Are they dead?)

I hope you don't mind how short this is, but I didn't want to drag it on

Thank you!!! <3

#langst #lance angst #my writing #long posted #lance #lance vld #lance voltron legendary defender #lance voltron #taylor swift #my tears ricochet #posted to ao3

[jalapenobee]

Hiii I wrote something angsty again (kinda)

Right here

Summary: Lance goes through… some things. Keith shows up to help.

663 words

The first thing Lance noticed was the shotgun in the corner, resting on a side table meant for living rooms. The second thing was the rows of cattle, hanging upside down from iron racks hung high on the walls.

They were… dead. Why were they dead? Lance had only seen cattle that were alive, always trotting slowly across the fields whenever he went out to watch them.

Lance’s breathing became heavy and he felt dizzy looking at all the cattle. He stepped backward and rubbed his eyes, trying to prevent tears from falling. “Papa, why did you bring me here?”

Ernesto sat in a wooden chair in front of Lance, chewing on a piece of jerky slowly while staring coldly at his son. He leaned forward to be level to Lance’s face. “Stop your foolish whining. You need to learn how to take over this place.”

As Lance confusedly protested, Ernesto sighed and sat back in the chair. Just like his mother. Always going against me. “You will be a man soon. Learn to get used to this, because it’s about to become a lot more familiar.”

He got up, walked to the other side of the room while beckoning Lance to follow. When he reached the center, he stopped at a short table and stooped down to pick up a machete that was lying on it. He ignored Lance’s gasps and turned around to face him. He held out the weapon to the six year old in front of him. “Take this.”

Lance looked mortified. “But…”

“Take it!”

The child quickly reached forward to retrieve the machete, stumbling at the sudden weight in his hands. It was by far the heaviest thing he had carried. As much as he tried to back away, Ernesto yanked on his wrist, dragging him to a cow at the end of a row.

“Cut.”

“What?”

“Cut the fucking cow, boy.”

Eyes burning with tears, Lance stumbled back and dropped the machete. He rubbed his eyes with one small hand and flailed around the other in a fruitless attempt to balance himself. He toppled over, landing on his bottom, wailing.

“No! I can’t do it!”

He continued to cry, trying desperately to get himself under control, for fear of what his papa would do to him. He had good reason to be scared.

Ernesto sighed for what seemed to be the millionth time today, snatching the machete from its place on the floor. He rested the flat side on his shoulder, staring with a grimace at the blubbering child. He rolled his eyes and swung the machete in his direction with a blank face, waiting for the satisfying “splurt” of metal and flesh.

———

Lance shot up, his whole face drenched in sweat and heart pounding, so, so loud. He tried to make himself hear anything else as a distraction. He settled on the sound of Keith’s breathing, a breathy comforter from next to him at two in the morning.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Lance let out his own breath, insanely relieved that the nightmare hadn’t been real. He slowly slunk back into his previous position, pulling the blanket over his neck to fend off the cold he didn’t realize was feeling. In the process, he pulled the blanket off of Keith, aiding the other boy to stir and sleepily blink open his eyes, gazing at Lance’s silhouette.

“Lance? You okay?”

The silhouette nodded, and sunk into the bed next to Keith. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Lance heard a small huff, then the shifting of his boyfriend. “Another nightmare?”

He tried to think of anything, training, Hunk’s cooking, Shiro’s terrible shower singing, to escape reliving the slaughterhouse scene, squeaking out a small “yes” before he couldn’t think of anything else. Lance felt arms wrap around his waist, a face buried in his chest, fluffy hair grazing his chin.

“I’m right here if you need me.” A voice whispered into his chest. “You know that, right?”

Lance nodded through small tears. He did.

#I’ve been wanted to write this for months #could’ve done better but I wanted to post something sooo #enjoy tiny scared lance #my fics #voltron #lance mcclain #klance fic #klance #keith kogane #langst fic #langst

[manonisamelon]

Thank you so much for all your beautiful tags, you really keep making my day with these ❤️ You are so kind and lovely, thank you so much!! And lol I‘m telling you I was certain I‘d ship Klance bc people never shut up about them! I don‘t want to hurt anyone who‘s shipping them but I didn‘t have one moment that made me consider this whereas.. Shiro??? I‘m just saying: he‘s looking at Keith. That‘s enough to break my heart.

Ahhh thanks!! I’m glad to here that! 💖💖

Same same I went in fully expecting to ship them too cause I’ve heard about them and seen them associated with another ship of mine a few times and I started and episode one ended and I was just like sheith??? 🥺🥺🥺 😂 I get the appeal on theory cause rival to lover trope is 👌 plus the bickering (though it’s more like Lance seeing them as rival and Keith being rival what? Shiro🥺 😂) and I kept waiting during the whole show for them to have a scene that would make me fall for it but it just never happened for me and instead I was just crying over sheith 😂 just their whole story everything about them??? And the black paladins episode with the fight and Keith not letting go that one just destroyed me there was no going back

Keith and shiro look at each other and we just go 🥺🥺🥺😍😍😍😍💯💯💯

#sorry kl shippers if this show in your tag 😬 can’t do anything cause the ship is in the ask #i could ramble about them for way too long #i have way too many feelings 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 #my little heart is overflowing #I’ve realized I have two kind of ships the soft ones without much conflicts like makoharu renga victuuri that’s very soft and makes me melt #and go 🥺🥺🥺🥺 and I just love #and then the angsty ones that completely destroy me and make me go crazy and cry and go on emotional breakdowns #I’m looking at you thiam sheith and welcome back hidekane #like???? those ships the pain they carry it just do it for me #thiam and theo and all the pain of his whole life and the evolution of them to lovers and just all the angst potential #sheith and just *gesture at boltron* Keith thinking shiro is dead and losing him over and over again and the black paladins ep #and then have to beg for shiro to live and just everything #and hidekane and just *gesture at kaneki carrying hide scene well the whole ep 12 of root a tbh* #and the rabbit thing #and everything #ahhhhhhhh #i have a ship problem 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣 #and I need to shut up #i feel sorry for whoever read all of this 🤣 #welcome to my brain I guess??? #sheith

[tobiosmilktea]

the love club — miya atsumu

fourteen: to late night travels

masterlist | prev. | next

a/n: my ability to write has been 📉poopy📉 recently, but anyway stan the miya twins for clear skin ✨🧚‍♂️

fury melted across kita shinsuke’s face the moment his eyes peered at you and the twins. his arms were braided over each other’s as the rest of inarizaki’s volleyball team stood rod straight behind the captain as they watched you guys approach. a meek smile forced itself to appear upon your visage as if it were to light up the awkward mood. it wasn’t like you couldn’t help it anyway, as you were just a mere stranger to these guys.

you tried your best to ease your nerves as the twins brushed past you and greeted their coach and team captain brightly. it certainly left a weird taste in your mouth with the way they acted as if you weren’t the primary reason of being late. god, you already felt like a burden asking them to let you go to nationals when you weren’t even in the club, but being late on top of that made you just want to crawl under your bed sheets for the next century.

despite trying your best to hide your weariness, atsumu could practically see right through you. he was the only one who could tell out of everyone else there as he watched you purse your lips into a tight line. he first noticed these nervous habits of yours the day of the project presentation. with the way your perspiring hands were dried against your skirt or how you would teeter your weight back and forth from your left to your right heel. they were all such small and discrete things that most wouldn’t even notice, but with how much atsumu liked to look at you he seemed to be to only one to even care how uncomfortable you were right now.

atsumu cleared his throat as his large palms gently rested on your shoulders.

“what are you—?”

“hey guys, this is (y/l/n) (y/n). she’ll be helping adachi-san with managerial work, please be nice to her.” the blond setter announced and was immediately greeted by loud (at least for 2 in the morning) greetings from the rest of the team.

the words to say hi back had hitched in your throat. instead, you opted to give them another smile and a bow before fishing into your eye-raisingly large duffel bag. they were completely filled with dozens of bags of macarons, all of which were colored coded by which team they were supposed to be given to.

“it’s nice to meet you, (y/l/n). i hope the twins didn’t cause you any trouble,” kita walked up to you and held his hand out. however, instead of shaking it you placed the bag of treats upon his palm as he his eyes furrowed in confusion.

“i made the entire team macarons,” you explained. “it’s basically a thank you for letting me come.”

“they smack!” atsumu shouted from behind kita.

the captain scoffs, shaking his head as he turned over his shoulder. “i know, i’m the one who told you about the bakery in the first place.” he looked back at you, “thank you.”

as kita made his way towards the front of the bus, osamu’s tall figure immediately came into view as he held his hands out eagerly. “so... about those macarons?”

a light chuckle emitted from your lips as you reached into your bag again. the moment you placed the macarons within his hands, he didn’t hesitate, not even for a second to open up the baggie of sweets. 

“thanks,” his voice muffled after he just stuffed his mouth.

you then continued on down the line giving each team member and even the coach and the manager their own fair share. eventually, everyone was piling into the bus as quickly as possible.

they even let you go on and take a seat first so you wouldn’t be ran over by the team. you opted to sit near the front of the bus at a window seat despite preferring the back. however, with your lack of sleep and your eye lids threatening to close any minute, you figured the front is always quieter than the rowdy back portion of the bus.

the moment you settled yourself, the boys were making their way in all nice and civil until the twins make their way on (go figure). 

“samu, move!” atsumu exclaimed as he pushed his brother of the narrow aisle just so he could plop himself down next to you.

a scoff left osamu as he brushed himself off, “chill, i was just joking when i said i was gonna sit next to her first.”

you stop yourself from letting a smirk to melt upon your expression as you shifted slightly in your seat. the thought of atsumu potentially interrupting your need for sleep didn’t even cross your mind as you watched the setter stick his tongue out towards his brother in retaliation.

before you could even notice, everyone was settled into their seats and the bus was already pulling out of inarizaki high’s parking lot. almost immediately did you feel your eyelids start to droop at each waking moment.

“hey,” atsumu called out next to you. your state of drousiness practically leaving your body the moment you heard his voice, “thanks for the macarons by the way.”

“no problem,” you say gently. the fatigue was evident in your voice as the usual kick in of your usual personality was practically nonexistent.

atsumu was well aware that you had been awake for far too long and he genuinely wanted you to get rest. yet that anchoring feeling of him looking forward to this moment to even sit next to you for a good six hours for a chance to vibe was getting in the way. he wanted you to be okay and healthy, yet he also wanted to get to know you better.

“who did you want to visit in tokyo, again?” he suddenly asked after a few beats of silence. it sounded a bit forced as he noticed the more he waited to talk to you, the more of a chance you were to have fallen asleep already.

your cheek rested against the palm of your hand as you looked over at him. the sky was still obsidian dark, drenching the insides of the bus to be just as dim if it weren’t for the occasional street lights they were passing by. and yet, even in the most unflattering lighting, atsumu still couldn’t help but notice the inkling of his heart beat suddenly getting irregular just by the sight of you.

“they’re competing at nationals as well and i’ve been trying to meet up with them for a while.” you answer truthfully.

atsumu lifted an eyebrow, “oh really? d’you think we’re going up against one of them?”

you shrug, placing a finger over your lips. “that’s a secret for you to find out the day of.” you teased playfully as you completely ignored the fact that you were bantering with someone you were supposed to hate.

maybe it was the lack of sleep. yeah... maybe that’s it.

“don’t tell me you’re a homewrecker now, (y/n).” atsumu shot back only for a smooth laugh to leave your lips.

it sounded like music to his ears knowing he was the reason you did that.

you lifted yourself off of your palm as you patted atsumu’s broad shoulder, “nah, i’m an inarizaki stan for life. i’m rooting for you guys.”

it was then you yawned for the first time the entire night.

atsumu found it strange how used you were to staying up late at nights. not to mention the only reason why you were even tired at two in the morning was that you had practically been awake for more than twenty-four hours already (only reason he had known was because you mentioned you were playing valorant with your friends until four in the morning the night before).

he concluded that no matter what, atsumu would always find himself in this type of tranquil silence with you, much to his surprise, and yet it was best if he doesn’t get used to it. atsumu wasn't sure how long this peace between you and him would last considering the moment you woke up—no longer fatigued and was finally thinking clearly—that you and him would be back to normal with you hating him and him annoying you.

atsumu didn’t want that to happen.

the thought was evident on the tip of his tongue. his words on the cusp of leaving his lips, a sudden weight on his shoulder interrupted his train of thought.

he turned his neck slightly, flickering his gaze towards the top of your head in which you had fallen into slumber. atsumu’s eyes were wide at the sudden contact, but he was sure as hell not complaining. he shifted a bit in his seat for you to rest your head a bit more comfortably as he couldn’t help but notice your faint aroma of peaches and freshly baked deserts.

“goodnight,” atsumu whispered, yet the feeling of saying it in real life definitely hit different rather than texting it to you.

fun facts! —

atsumu ended up knocking the fuck out thirty minutes after y/n fell asleep

kita is sitting in the same aisle as atsumu and y/n but on the other side cause he’s sitting alone

osamu and suna are sitting behind kita while aran is sitting right behind atsumu and y/n

y/n ended up waking up four hours later and spamming her gc, and since tanaka and her are the only ones travelling, they were the only ones awake at the time

taglist: (closed)

@kitsunetea @bftsukki @gyubit17 @ushijimasbb @alyssasteaparty @angsty-microwave @pleasemelafook-outta-ere @katsushimaa @dinonerdsimp @sakusakymi @deimmortales99 @nerumiz @evphology @atsunflower @noeminemi @chaelysian @lunebiscuit @hanbinplanet @it-me-720 @differentballooncollection @iwaizluv @90s-belladonna @terushimasbitch @apollochjld @shephard17895 @tremendousglitterthing @kara-grayson04 @clowninfortodoroki @gra-hamcrackers @bloomkings @highlyanxiousintroverted @verymuchbabey @miyaosamoo @achly @randomidksomeone @newborn-weeb @mx-minxx @callums-keith @lumiriai @unstableye @lovedanii @kritiiiii @ushisama @kitakure @gaychemicalwater @akakuzumo @noiramor @tsumu-core @stardustanni @ikemenweebo @veenusvalkryie (continued in comments)

#haikyuu!! #haikyuu #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu smau #haikyuu x reader #miya atsumu #atsumu x reader #atsumu smau #atsumu miya #hq atsumu #atsumu scenarios #atsumu imagines #atsumu headcanons #atsumu fluff #atsumu hcs

[aprxl-showers]

i was feeling a bit sad yesterday and this is the result...

Keith huddles on his bed, hugging three soft pillows at a time to his chest. He takes a deep breath, willing the tears away. He hates this.

Fighting with Shiro always sucked. He and Keith always seemed to be in angsty moods around the same time—more often than not being the cause of each other’s ill tempers—and they’d yell and slam doors until Keith inevitably stormed off. He always ended up in the same place: he and Lance’s bedroom, pressing himself against the wall in order to be as far away as possible from everyone.

His jaw is achy, signalling another impending onslaught of tears and Keith knows it’s probably a losing battle. However, Lance always said letting emotions out was good and healthy and not to worry, he would always be there to give Keith hugs.

Lance isn’t here, though. He’s been away at his parents’ house all weekend for a birthday of some sorts. He had whispered promises through kisses that he’d be back before Keith knew it. But it’s already nine thirty and Keith is reaching a breaking point.It isn’t like he relies on Lance to stop him feeling certain ways. He had made sure of that when they’d moved in together two months ago after ten months of dating. He never wants Lance to be burdened with all his issues and be unloaded onto all of the time. Nevertheless, they still talk. They’re boyfriends, of course they’re there for each other, and sometimes nothing beats being held tightly in Lance’s arms with soothing words pressed to his hairline.

It’s a Friday night which should be a relief but Keith is working all of Saturday and Sunday, meaning he has to get up far too early tomorrow, and he feels like he hasn't been able to take a break this entire week. His teachers have suddenly amped up the intensity of classes and assignments with the upcoming exams. His anniversary with Lance is also on the horizon and he’s trying to save to take him somewhere fancy.

Whenever he does catch an extra moment Keith tries to watch something on Netflix but then the hours fly by like minutes and he’s left feeling shitty again. He initially tried that method when he’d slammed the door shut earlier, angrily tossing his bag off and letting his head fall into his hands. He’d tried to put on a brave face, blinking through tears at the laptop screen as some young, star crossed lovers made eyes at each other across a classroom. It did nothing but remind him of Lance’s absence which didn’t improve his emotional state in the slightest.

He ducks his head into the crease in the pillow closest to his chest as if it will soak in the ball of negativity swirling in his chest, the lump in his throat, his heavy heart. Take it away.

There’s the sound of faint footsteps and jangling keys and Keith hears the door click open as Lance makes his way into their apartment. Keith listens to him as he moves through their home, dumping his suitcase on the sofa, fetching a glass of water and approaching the bedroom door. Keith realises too late that the light isn’t even on.

There’s the sound of a flick and suddenly he sees Lance’s eyes clearly. He watches in horror as Lance’s happy, beautiful expression slips from his face and he places the glass on the chest of drawers.

“Keith?”

He doesn’t want to be a downer on Lance’s day, especially when he’s only just arrived looking like sunshine itself, so he attempts a smile. He also attempts to reply but all that leaves his mouth is a choked, pathetic sob. Lance is diving forward before he’s even registered. Warm hands cup his face and Keith collapses forward into his boyfriend’s chest.

“Lance.”

“Hi, sweetheart.”

“I’m sorry. I just—” His breath shudders.

“It’s okay. Just breathe, I’ve got you.” Lance reaches up to stroke Keith’s hair, shushing him quietly. Keith softly nudges his head into the crook of his neck, breathing deeply and calming for the first time in hours. Lance’s fingers wipe away his tears gently as he presses fleeting kisses to his eyelids. They stay like that for twenty minutes, in silence. Until:

“Fuck.” Keith’s voice is no longer garbled and he rubs his eyes, exhaustion hitting him like a wave.

Lance tucks his bangs behind his ears over and over and over and over. “Seems appropriate. Do you want to talk about it?”

Keith leans back, offering Lance a more genuine smile. Lance returns it. “No. It’s just Shiro. I’ll call him tomorrow and work it out. How was your family? Did you enjoy seeing everyone?”

“Yeah, it was great.” Lance isn’t fully at ease yet, Keith can tell. He cradles Keith’s neck, running his thumb up and down it. “I’m sorry I didn’t get here earlier.”

“No. You don’t have to apologise, you didn’t do anything wrong. By the time you came in I was feeling the last of it. I would have been fine in another hour.” Keith shuffles over, pulling Lance into a proper sitting position on the bed beside him. He gathers his boyfriend’s long, slender finger in his own. “Please, tell me about your weekend. You looked so happy when you came in.”

Lance hesitates but Keith squeezes his hands once more and his angelic grin slowly returns. Keith feels a weight lift from his shoulders.

“If I’m being completely honest, I missed Mama so much,” Lance says, dropping his head onto Keith’s shoulder. Keith doesn’t blame him. It’s almost impossible not to miss Mama McClain. “There’s nothing quite like hugging your mama, you know? I mean—”

“Yeah, I know.” Keith kisses Lance's forehead, banishing the returns of the worry lines. Although Keith misses his parents every day, he loves hearing about Lance’s huge family—who he had met several times for some bigger, plus one events—and encourages him to speak about them whenever he can. Lance’s passion and love for them always shines through, sending swoops through Keith's stomach every time without fail.

“They asked about you a lot, by the way. Nadia, Sylvio are keen to see you again. I’m certain that even baby Elena perked up when I said your name.”

Keith’s smile arrives unbidden and he chuckles. “I miss them.”

“I bet you do,” Lance agrees, laughing lightly. “I’ve been apart from them for ten hours and I already miss them. The last time you saw them was when we moved in and they gave us all those weirdly specific gifts.”

Keith smirks at the memory. Funnily enough, though, he’s used all the McClain gifts on countless occasions. They obviously knew what they were doing.

“I’m happy you’re back, Lance,” he says. Silence settles for a little while.

Lance shifts, lifting his head from Keith’s shoulder and taking a seat in his lap, facing him. He places a tentative kiss on the corner of his lips.

“There’s no place I’d rather be, babe. I love living with you—it’s the highlight of my life so far, hands down.” Lance runs his hands over Keith’s sides. “I love being able to hug you when you’re sad and beat Shiro’s ass when one of you takes it too far.”

Keith lets out a startled laugh.

“I love it when you do that,” he mutters, leaning forward and brushing Lance’s lips with his own. “And I love you, too, so that’s a plus.”

“A big plus,” Lance reiterates.

“Huge.”

“Massive.”

“Absolutely.”

“I love you.”

“You, too,” Keith replies before he slips an inch forward and they’re kissing softly.

Lance always knows exactly how to calm him down and make him feel that much better. Keith knows he would do—that he does do—the same for him if something was ever remotely wrong. Because they’re a team. And Keith loves him.

He’ll talk to Shiro tomorrow, smooth things over, lick some wounds. Ask him if one year is too soon into a relationship to consider marriage. Maybe it is but Keith can’t find it in himself to care.

It may take them months more of emotional breakdowns on both sides, years more of comfort and cuddles, but Keith has no doubt he and Lance will get there. He already knows this is it. Keith pulls him close, a little emotionally drained but happy, smiling wide against Lance’s lips.

#my voltron boys🥺 #klance #klance fic #klance fics #angst #lance mcclain #keith kogane #i feel better now dw

[magnolia-among-the-stars]

Losing You  | Sebastian Stan

Summary: Sebastian has been doing press all week about Endings, Beginnings and the chemistry that keeps being mentioned between himself and Shailene is too much to handle.

Genre​: Angsty as all Hell

Word count: 1600

Note: The amount of responses I got on this idea was overwhelming so thank you for the support and encouragement as I got to explore this idea. This one felt a lot more intimate than I expected but I’m pleasantly surprised and enthused. I tried to really approach this with a maturity and complex nature instead of going for running away. I’d love feedback! (let me know if you want to join my taglist!)

The same line was going through your head for the last fifteen minutes as he spoke with her before the interview started. Sebastian was sitting across the living room, in front of his laptop chatting away with his co-star in contrast to you, curled up with a book in hand. You tried to ignore it, not exactly enthused by the chemistry the two had. 

Shailene was a character, so unique and outspoken, she was a force of nature. Your boyfriend had been so perplexed by her, her mere name being echoed in between what was meant to be safe and loving walls of your home and you felt like it was driving a wedge between your emotions and your mind telling you that he loved you. Not her. 

You knew the film had been an intimate experience, unlike anything Seb worked on previously. And maybe you felt a little guilty, upset with yourself for how petty you were reaching but you couldn’t help it. You had gotten used to the luxury of having him fawn over his scenes with Mackie or the brotherhood of working through a scene with Chris. Even when he was fangirling over working with Nicole Kidman, you didn’t give it a second thought because she was with Keith Urban. 

But this was so different, the constant mention of improvising made the scenes from Endings, Beginnings turned your stomach. That he was making choices for the purpose of how he felt chemistry could best be conveyed with her. It felt too personal, too close to home. As his director introduced the interview, Seb caught your eye briefly, giving you a warmhearted smile before returning to the enthusiastic man asking questions.

You tried to block out their conversation but reading the same page over and over again without taking in the context was becoming mundane and the minute Shailene mentioned having fun playing together with Sebastian, you perked up. They kept talking about the authenticity, the realness coming from the three of them throughout the filming process and you couldn’t hear it any longer. 

You slammed the book shut, a scoff escaping your throat without your approval as you threw the blanket that had been wrapped around you to the side. You stomped past your concerned boyfriend, eyes trailing after you as you went. He paused for a moment, wondering if he should excuse himself before deciding against it. There were only a few minutes left and then Seb could go check on you. 

Upstairs in your bedroom, you wrapped yourself up in a pullover and slid onto the bay window to watch the rain fall. The room was still dark, the light switch forgotten as you curled into yourself and tried to calm your breathing. “Y/N?” Sebastian called out a few minutes later, heavy footsteps advancing up the metal framework of the stairs. You sniffled, using the soft material of your sleeve to wipe your face before his face appeared around the framework of the door. 

“Hi,” you tried, gaze still watching the large water droplets plummet from the sky onto the earth with a splash. Your head felt heavy, the overwhelming feeling of hopelessness creeping over your chest so heavy that you felt like your breath had evaporated into the abyss. 

“Are you alright?” his bare feet pad across the room until he’s sliding in front of you and trying to pull you into his warm embrace. You aren’t ready for him to touch you yet. You make a small noise of displeasure and he pauses, allowing you to pull away and lean back from contact. 

“I’m-,” you paused and shook your head as a few stray tears made it through the barricade you were trying desperately to hold up. You took a shaky breath. “I can’t right now,” you finally landed on the wording. Sebastian’s face screwed, his hands now falling to his lap defeated. 

He searched around the room, maybe looking for words to reply or context clues to what had upset you to the point of shutting him out. He came up empty. “Is it quarantine?” You shook your head, forehead coming to rest on the crest of your kneecaps. You took another shaky breath, the sound setting off alarms for Sebastian that this was a code red.

“What did I do?” he said, tone as calm as he could manage. Sebastian knew sometimes he was aloof to his actions, never harmful but sometimes distant in how he approached life. It was a habit he was working on with your help and guidance. He always loved the maturity your relationship had. You rarely yelled at each other, only to the air in frustration. There was never a conflict that the two of you hadn’t been able to push through thus far but he would be lying if he said he had seen your state of mind at the moment. 

Stormy eyes flickered up to glance at his bewildered face. His hands reached out cautiously to you, grazing your bare calf lightly as Seb’s heart began to race. His lips were pressed tightly together, something he did when he was doing his damnedest to not overpower the conversation. “Do you think there was ever a point while filming that you thought about dating Shaliene?” your quiet question smacked him in the chest. He took in the quiver of your lip, the slight shake in your hands.

Sebastian didn’t realize he was already shaking his head in protest before his brain finally regained function. “Oh baby, no,” he exhaled with confidence as his strong hand scooped the apex of your kneecap and tugged you lovingly toward him. 

You let him this time, relaxing into his embrace as he positioned you over his lap so your legs dangled off the edge of the bay window. His scruff scraped along the surface of your cheeks as Seb started showering you in light pecks, each one emoting all the love and dedication he had for you. “I’m yours,” he whispered, nose rubbing against yours fondly as the rough pads of his fingers dancing through the knots in your hair. 

“I just felt like with all the talk of your characters being so real and it being so authentic to how you would all interact,” your small voice got caught in your throat. He stopped pressing kisses against your skin to allow you to speak, giving you time to express your concerns. “God Seb,” you cried out, tears finally falling, “I want to support you and I think you were amazing but I can’t stop replaying the scene of you going down on her, and it’s making me sick.” He felt crushed at your words, pained by how much the film and his interactions with his co-star affected you. 

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, hazy eyes boring into yours as his own tears started to stream down his cheeks. “I’m so sorry for causing you so much pain. What can I do? How can I make this better?” he begged, the reality of you leaving him now creeping into his own insecurity. He wouldn’t hate you for it, almost disgusted that he hadn’t thought about how the intimate scenes would snake between him and his lover. “I’ll stop doing romantic films. I’ll stop talking to her. I’ll do whatever it takes.” 

You shook your head promptly. You wouldn’t allow your insecurity to stop the man from doing his damn job. That was selfish and unfair. “I don’t know,” the exhaustion falling over you as you took in each other. The air was thick with tension, emotion practically dripping like the raindrops on the window. 

“I’ll do anything,” Seb’s voice cracked, “Please just don’t leave me.” the whisper sent more tears to collect in the corner of your eyes. He pressed his lips together to control his sobs, only small whimpers escaping as he waited for your response, bracing for the worst. 

“You won’t lose me,” you rasped, arms wrapping tightly around his neck and tugging him to hold on with all you had. “I just, we just need to communicate more. I should’ve said something when you were filming,” you admitted, a wet spot appearing on the shoulder of his tee shirt he wore. His hands smoothed across the expanse of your back, clutching the soft material within his fists. 

“I should’ve checked in with you,” he stated, clearing his throat and shaking his head. “I couldn’t love anyone but you and I wasn’t thinking about how those scenes would come off. I’ll work hard to be more aware, I never meant to hurt you.” You pulled his face from the crook of your neck, sweaty forehead pressing against his and taking in his scent. Sebastian always smelt like cinnamon and the sea, the aroma relaxing you. “I’m so sorry,” he repeated, face so close that you could feel his long lashes brushing yours.

You let him hold you, rocking back and forth as the street lights below illuminated your bodies. The pitter pat of the raindrops against the glass behind you a melody as hands slipped under the hem of the pullover, nails delicately running over your hips. You breathed him in again, your heart healing with his touch and affirmation.

Taglist: @sinceahwhen

#Sebastian Stan #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan imagines #sebastian stan x reader #endings beginnings #sebastian stan angst #angsty as hell #ouch #this hurt

[vldsideblog]

It’s angsty Keith hours guys.

Cw for, self hatred, panic attack/ breakdown, implied past abuse, scratching, brief sh I think. As always lemme know if I missed anything

Keith’s eyes were locked on the bathroom mirror, purple-black irises stared back.

Everything made sense now; his entire life had shifted revealing things he’d always known but pushed down. Truths he’d locked in a box and tossed in the ocean, hoping pitifully that the tide wouldn’t come crashing back in.

But here he was fully aware of why he was different.

Keith was galra. And he was a monster.

His mouth tasted like iron, abnormally strong fingernails dug into the sink with a horrific screech, he couldn’t breathe.

Keith desperately scanned his mirror image for a sign of humanity. The scars on his jaw, each dark mole, lines underneath his eyes. But it wasn’t enough to cover the sharp teeth, unnatural eyes, the fire burning within him.

He could feel his knees beginning to shake, the armor on his legs rattling slightly.

‘Why did it have to be now? Couldn’t this have waited until after the war, when I’m not needed anymore. Then I wouldn’t be a liability. Then at least I could go live on some desolate planet by myself so no one would have to think about me again.’

His thoughts were racing faster with each minute, tripping over each other in desperation to be fully formed.

‘Oh god, Shiro’s gotta hate me now, the galra ruined his life, I’m one of them. What if they lock me up? They wouldn’t be wrong, I’m a monster. I’ve only ever hurt people…. But I can’t do that again!’

Memories of dark closets and broken bones still haunted him. Something warm began to well up in his eyes. ‘Tears. Wait no.. monsters don’t cry. Humans cry, and I’m not human.’

Suddenly Keith pushed away from the counter, no longer able to look at his monstrous reflection. His back hit the wall and his legs gave out, leaving him to slide down the wall with little grace. His sharp teeth dug into his bottom lip drawing blood. He barely registered the pain.

‘I don’t deserve to call myself a Paladin Of Voltron, I’m a flaw. A demon masquerading as a hero.’

His shaking hands began to fumble with his armor, desperate to rid himself of the markings of a paladin. His thick nails caught in the grooves of the plating on one knee with a terrible screech. He threw off the knee guard and began frantically removing the rest. By the time he’d gotten down to his undersuit Keith was sobbing uncontrollably.

Trembling hands began to scratch at his face, unable to feel the pain of breaking skin. Warm blood started to poke at his fingertips and mix with the streams coming from his eyes. His purple eyes. His galran eyes.

‘I hate this.’

He curled tighter into himself, as if waiting for pain, to be punished for his very existence. There was only silence, and somehow that made everything worse.

#I might make this into a longer fic #not sure yet #writing is hard #vld #voltron #voltron legendary defender #keith kogane #keith voltron #keith headcanon #broganes #autistic keith #galra keith #tw breakdown #tw sh #I think #it’s not too bad #miserable keith is my specialty

[comphersjost]

All for You | 2 ➸ Brady Tkachuk and Matthew Tkachuk

hi, its 3 am, and i couldnt stop until i finished this. ik i promised yall another part on thursday so im sorry this is later then i was hoping. i hope you enjoy it :) i took a different approach to brady here than ive normally seen, let me know how you guys like it!!

It’s been 4 and a half months since that day in the basement. With Christmas just days away and Matty on a flight back home, you and Brady take a risk, leaving Matt to wonder where he went wrong.

word count: 4.6k

warnings: this is really angsty yall, like actually, smut, sir kink, brady is Mean, uh moral ambiguity sorta (thinking abt someone else during sex), d/s undertones sorta, unprotected sex (be safe), oral (m on f), some choking, alcohol (wine), sex under the influence, pls ignore any typos fkakldfa

part one

part two

part three

part four

part five

masterlist

Even with how utterly fucked the situation was that Matt had found himself in, there was one thing he couldn't stop thinking about. It was the way his logo and his last name and his number rested against your back that drove him insane.

It was burned into his retinas.

Even now, on a plane back home to St. Louis it was all he could think about. Every time he closed his eyes it was you you you.

It had been months since he had seen you. Nearly 5 months had passed since that night in the basement. And it killed him.

He was in a slump. Everyone knew it. He knew it, his teammates knew it, the damn front office knew it. And it was because of you.

His teammates had quickly put together your absence at any sort of gathering and Matty’s sulking. 4 and a half months later he resembles a shell of the man he used to be.

He had called, of course he had. Over and over, hoping, pleading, praying to any deity that existed out there to hear from you again.

Matthew’s prayer was answered one day, when he had come out of practice to find a text from you. His heart rate accelerated, time felt like molasses as his phone camera ID’d his face. As the facial recognition unlocks his phone, the message is revealed.

Please stop calling me. And tell the boys to stop too.

The text tears his heart to shreds. It was the last straw. Before he had been mopey, but now - now he was spiraling. His play was abysmal - a shit show on the ice really. He drank until he blacked out every time, not even looking at another girl.

He had contemplated going to your work, but decided a player in the middle of a slump having a restraining order filed against him would not go over well with the Flames management. Every time he went out for the most mundane task, groceries, dry cleaning, he couldn’t help the hope that he would run into you. Even if you didn’t give him the time of day it would be enough for him to just see you.

He hadn’t seen you since that day. Not for lack of trying, though. Matthew had been to all the spots you used to frequent—the grocery store you love, the clubs you two used to go to, even the 7/11 you had both been to after the both of you got so drunk that you could barely walk. You weren’t on the flight you had booked back together. In fact, he had no idea about anything that’s been going on in your life, his mom just told him that you’re okay and that was all he got.

Now it was 3 days before Christmas and the idea of seeing you again both filled him with dread and also made him feel more alive than he had in months. He was equally utterly terrified and buzzing with excitement. His hands itched to hold you again, though he knew there was a bigger chance of you slapping him than letting him kiss you the way he wanted.

As Matt stares out the window at the clouds, he lets his mind wander. He wonders how you're doing; are you okay? After everything that happened did you pick up right where you left off? He wondered if you missed him, if he was on your mind as much as you were on his.

He still wondered if you loved him back.

-

“Mom, I really just, I really want to stay home and do nothing tonight okay? I'm tired.”

Your mom rolls her eyes at your attempt at getting out of going over to Tkachuk’s house tonight. You’d been trying since 9 am.

“Honey, I know you said you and Matthew don’t hang out anymore, but he won't be there!” she tried reassuring you, “Brady and Taryn will be there to hang out with you until Taryn goes to spend the night with the Johnson’s.” That made you groan even louder - you had to be alone with Brady. Great, now you had to steel yourself for a night of utter humiliation.

Brady isn't even downstairs yet when you enter the Tkachuk’s threshold, Chantal’s call for her kids brings Taryn down in an instant, ever excited to see you.

“Y/N!” she squeals, running down the stairs, “You're here, you're here!”

“Y/N?” you hear faintly, and then the slam of Brady’s door and rapid footsteps. He nearly slides down the stairs, freezing at the bottom when he spots you. Taryn lets you out of her embrace, leaving you to stare wide-eyed at Brady. Unsure how to navigate your way out of this situation, you keep staring at Brady as your parents and Taryn follow Chantal to the kitchen.

“Hi, B,” you say meekly, unsure of how he’ll receive you after so long.

“Hi, buttercup,” he responds, a bright smile pulling at his lips. It’s all he needs to take a few quick steps in your direction and draw you into his arms.

“I missed you so much, buttercup,” he whispers against your hairline, “More than you know.”

Despite his warm welcome, the night is tense. You still don't know what he thinks of that night, not wanting to ask him in front of your families - well, most of your families anyways. You didn't even let yourself think about what would happen when you saw Matthew at the next dinner party. You sat at the table and ate your food, barely speaking to Taryn and answering Keith and Chantal’s inquiries about your life in Calgary with a tight smile.

You’re so zoned out trying to make time go faster you barely register your parents telling you that they’re going out with Keith and Chantal.

“Mom, wait-”

“Y/N,” she warns, looking at you with that look, and you sigh in resignation. She smiles at you, a silent promise to make it up to you.

Taryn had left 30 minutes ago, announcing that she had somewhere to be before leaving as quickly as she could, uncomfortable with the palpable tension between you and Brady.

You watch your parents leave, wincing for a moment at what awaits you when you turn around. To your surprise, what greets you is a glass of wine hovering in front of your face.

You take the peace offering gingerly from Brady’s hand with a tiny smile. And it’s a really bad idea, the way you let him keep refilling your glass, and his own, let him draw you in during The Grinch on the couch, let him hold you tight under the blanket that was covering the both of you.

You can hear your common sense screaming in the back of your mind when you snuggle closer into Brady’s chest. It’s near 11 now, and your parents are still together, laughing and drinking in the living room of your house before Keith and Chantal are supposed to head to the airport. You're cuddled up to Brady, shifting every few minutes to try and get closer, even though nearly every inch of your body is practically glued to him.

He hums when you shift again, nuzzling your face into his shoulder. “Gotta go home,” you say, your voice muffled against him. It’s not like you haven't spent the night with him before; you just haven't since that night.

“Probably,” he mumbles, arms tightening around you. “But I don't want you to.” And like, you've had way too much wine and you should probably go before Matty gets here cause you really can't handle that conversation like this so you push off of Brady, standing up but stumbling, wine sloshing over the lip of the glass and splattering on your pants.

“Fuck,” you hiss, the red wine surely staining the gray leggings you wore. Brady takes the glass from you, placing it on the table and stabilizing you with his other hand.

“Go change upstairs,” he says softly, looking up at you with those eyes you're such a sucker for. “Stay.”

And - how can you say no to that? You can't, because it's Brady and you're so damn easy for him it didn't matter what he’d asked you to do, you would do it without a second thought.

That's how you find yourself stumbling to Brady’s bedroom, barely finding your way to his bathroom to change out of your stained leggings and wipe yourself down. You rummage through Brady’s dresser, searching for - there it was. A pair of Brady’s sweatpants from high school that he stopped wearing approximately 2 months after he got them [mostly because he couldn't find them (mostly mostly because they were either in your room or on your body)].

You place the worn sweats on top of Brady’s dresser, fumbling to close the drawer and find your balance. Someone clears their throat and your head snaps towards the doorway. Brady is leaning against the doorframe and through the fuzziness of the wine, you register the thought that he looks so good like this - in his comfort zone.

“Hey,” he says, pushing off the doorframe towards you.

“Hi,” you whisper back, eyes too focused on Brady moving towards you.

“We should give it a shot,” Brady husks, hooded eyes trailing down your body and back up again. Suddenly the room feels too cold, the oversized sweater you had on stopped at the top of your thighs, barely covering the pale pink panties you were wearing. The sweater paws gave an air of innocence around you that Brady knew was fake.

“What are you talking about?” you whisper meekly, both concerned about what was going on in that head of his, and intrigued.

“You know how you feel about me,” Brady states - which isn't entirely true anymore, but you don’t interrupt. “I don’t know how I feel about you, and neither of us actually knows if this-” he motions between the two of you “-is it for us, so I say, we give it a shot and see how it feels. Let’s give it until we go back?”

When did he get so close to you? Brady’s taking more steps forward, and you’re taking as many steps back, until the back of your thighs hit the corner of the bed and you instinctively sit.

Which - in retrospect, was probably a mistake, because now Brady towers over you even more than before and now - you’re really intrigued. His fingers trail over your jaw, thumb swiping gently across your bottom lip.

You part your lips out of habit, eyes widen when you realize what you’ve done. Brady laughs darkly when he catches your slip up, stroking your face affectionately.

His thumb slips between your lips for a moment, and your eyes flutter shut as your cheeks hollow around him.

“Look at me,” he commands softly, and you do, opening your eyes to stare up at him again; Brady, your best friend. He smiles proudly, murmuring a soft, “Good girl.”

The words are uttered at the same time he withdraws from your warm mouth, wrapping his fingers gently around your throat. You can’t help the whine that escapes, mortified when Brady’s grin widens.

He leans down, mouth next to your ear to whisper, “Matty always did like it when they’re needy. Needy girls drive us crazy.”

Really, the thought of Matt shouldn’t be driving you crazy, but it is. And when you feel Brady’s nose nudge against yours, his mouth just millimeters from you - your biggest fantasy for nearly 20 years - you knew you were going to hell.

A needy moan escapes your throat before Brady’s hand tightens around your throat and you give in, looping your arms around his neck. You pull him down to meet your lips, nearly clawing at him in your desperation.

Faintly, you think that this is a bad idea, this would only hurt you more later on.

But the longer you kissed him, the less you cared about the consequences. You wanted - you needed Brady so fucking bad right now you were willing to deal with whatever the aftermath presented you with. Brady’s other hand finds the bottom of your sweater, slipping underneath the fabric to lay against your rib cage.

You needed more.

“Brady,” you whine as you break away from his lips, tugging at his hoodie. “Need you.” Brady chuckles darkly, tugging you by your throat to kiss him again.

“Ask nicely,” he husks against your mouth.

“Please,” you whimper again, pulling harder at the fabric to just get him closer. “Please, Brady, I need you so bad.”

“Try again.” Brady pushes you - nearly tosses you really - further up the bed with a snarl, ignoring the yelp you let out at the suddenness of his mood shift. You stare up at him, eyes wide and lips parted. You're unsure of your next words.

“Please…Daddy?”

A cocky smirk pulls at the corner of his lips. “Not quite.”

You think for a moment, watching him bring his hand behind his back and pull his shirt over his head. The dark look he gives you makes you shrink, as if to say ‘Still?’.

Suddenly your eyes light up, and Brady can see it. He's already on the bed, crawling up your body as you attempt to control your breath. The words are barely out before he's kissing you again.

“Please sir?”

Brady groans into your mouth when he hears you say the words, slotting himself between your thighs to grind his hips against yours. You mewl into his mouth when his clothed cock catches against your clit, pushing your hips up against him for more. He growls as he pulls away again, swatting your thigh as a warning.

“Careful, princess,” Brady warns - voice low and dangerous - and his grip on your hip so tight you knew there would be bruises in the morning, “or I won't be.” His words are thick with intention, both a threat and a promise.

“Yes, sir,” you breathe shakily, letting yourself fall against the sheets to look up at him.

Brady’s eyes soften for a moment, reaching up to brush your hair out of your eyes. “Hi,” he whispers, leaning down to steal a kiss.

“Hi,” comes your response. He steals another kiss before pulling away again, and you can't help but think that he looks beautiful like this.

I love you. I'm in love with you.

You want to say it, the voice inside you is screaming it. It’s screaming for you to say it, and Brady is looking at you almost like he wants you to too.

The feeling of his hands pushing your sweater up distracts you from your plight. Brady’s movement is slow, and he’s looking at you intensely, giving you time to stop him. You only nod, and the softness is gone as soon as it had come. You lift your arms to help him bring the material over your head. He tosses the sweater to the side, catching your wrists when you reach for him. He guides them back over your head, smirking as you suppress a shudder when he leans in a whispers against your mouth. “Be a good girl and keep your hands there princess.”

You nod quickly, grasping the sheets in anticipation. Another slap to your thigh has you rethinking.

“I’m sorry!” you gasp. “Yes, sir.”

Brady hums in acknowledgment, kissing down your throat until he’s staring up at you from the valley between your breasts. You whine softly when he pulls a nipple into his mouth, his teeth grazing the harden peak before soothing it with his tongue. His hand is pinching and pulling at your other nipple, making your noises significantly louder. He alternates, playing with your nipples until they're swollen and sensitive and sore.

He sits back on his heels to look at you, hands on your knees now, sliding up your thighs. His eyes roam your body unabashedly, while his fingers play with the waistband of your panties. There's a burning look in his eyes as he says, “You're gorgeous. You're so fucking beautiful.”

You don't know why hearing him say it makes you tear up. Brady had told you that you were pretty before, that you cleaned up nice, always telling you how hot you were when he'd see you dressed up before events. He was your own personal hype man but he'd never called you beautiful.

Not like this.

Not like Matty.

Not like Matty.

The thought makes your blood run cold.

“Please,” you mewl, starting to reach for Brady before remembering what he told you. Your hands fly back above your head, twisting in the sheets, whispering, “I’m sorry, sir, I forgot.”

Brady smiles softly, slipping his finger under the waistband of your panties, tugging on it before letting it snap back against your skin. “Such a good girl,” he murmurs, leaning down to kiss softly at your stomach. “Trying so hard to be good for me.” He shuffles himself backwards as he kisses his way down your body, sliding your panties down your legs at the same time until they've fallen to the floor.

“Wait,” you say softly, causing Brady to pause, his expression quizzical. “Please, I need you.”

Brady grins wickedly. “Just a taste princess.”

It turns out, ‘a taste’ actually means Brady edging you with his tongue until you were nearly crying. He's brought you to the brink three times now, each time getting you closer and closer before pulling away. At this point he's holding your hips down and your hands are as tangled in the sheets as you could get them, not wanting the repercussions of disobeying.

Brady’s tongue is sliding through your folds again when you finally break.

“Please!” you sob, tears finally sliding down your cheeks as your back arches from the pleasure. “Please, Brady, please, sir, please please, I- I need - please just - fuck - please.”

Brady hums against your cunt, the vibrations tearing a scream from your throat. Suddenly the warmth of Brady’s mouth is gone, leaving you chasing him with a buck of your hips. He pins you back down again easily, his lips glistening as he smirks. You hate the way the sleazy look on his face does it for you.

It reminds you of Matt.

You whine again, wiggling your hips as much as you could in Brady’s grip. “Please just fuck me,” you whisper, squeezing your eyes shut. You feel his lips press against your hip, smiling against your skin.

“Anything my girl wants, she gets,” he murmurs against your skin.

My girl. The words echo over and over again in your head. My girl my girl my girl.

Two words you've been waiting years to hear come out of his mouth, and the only thing you could think of was how you liked it better when Matty said it.

Your eyes stay shut as Brady kisses up your body, fingertips dancing over your skin. His mouth finds yours, emptying your brain of all other thoughts but him.

“You ready for me, pretty girl?” he asks you, a hand coming up to stroke your cheek gently, wiping your tears away. Your eyes flutter open, to look at him, nodding as you bite your lip. His thumb tugs your lip out from between your teeth as you feel the tip of his dick brush against your thigh. You didn't even realize that he had taken off the rest of his clothes, but you weren't complaining. Not with him so close like this.

“Please,” you whimper, and after stealing another kiss, Brady sinks into your heat.

“Fuuuuuck,” he groans, gripping the back of your thigh to spread your legs even further. “You're so fucking tight, fuck you feel so good.” Once he’s bottomed out, Brady leans down to kiss you, swallowing your desperate noises.

He gives you little time to adjust, and really - you don't need it considering the way he tortured you with his mouth and fingers. You're whining into his mouth as his hips move against you, the drag off his cock inside you so fucking good after being denied like you were.

You're close already, and Brady knows, delivering sharp thrusts and hitting a spot inside you that made you see stars.

He finally breaks from your lips, breathing heavily as his hips slam into your cunt. “I'm so close,” you tell him, gripping the sheets above your head so hard you feel like you might rip them. “Please, please let me cum, sir, please.”

It seems like Brady finally thinks you've had enough torture, because he brings his hand from your thigh to your clit, rubbing quick tight circles. “You've been so good for me baby,” he grunts, his other hand holding him up so he can look down at you. “Come on baby, you can touch me now, come on princess, cum for me.”

That's all it takes to send you over the edge. Your hands come flying from above your head to grasp at Brady, his shoulders, his back, tangling in his hair, anything to just touch him. You cry out as your orgasm hits, your back arching under Brady as he relentlessly fucks you through it.

You faintly register Brady’s filthy encouragement in your ears, telling you how good you are for doing what he says, for not touching him this whole time, for cumming for him like this. You writhe against him as you feel him spill into you, grunting as he fucks into you, chasing his orgams with shallow, sloppy thrusts. It feels like you've been riding your high forever; your vision is blurry when you finally come down.

Brady’s breath is hot on your neck, his hands stroking your skin gently as the two of you catch your breath. He shushes you gently as you moan when he pulls out of you. Brady practically collapses next to you, wrapping an arm around your waist, tugging you into his chest. He peppers kisses across your skin, nudging his nose against your cheek to grab your attention.

You can barely turn your head, suddenly so tired you feel like you'll pass out right that second. “Hi,” he murmurs, kissing you gently. You hum and bury your face in his neck.

“‘M sleepy,” you mumble against his skin, eliciting a soft laugh from him.

“Then sleep,” he says, before smirking devilishly, “don't worry there's lots more where that came from, but in the morning.” You snort at his words, squeezing the back of his neck before burying your fingers in his curls.

“Night, B,” you mumble.

“Goodnight, buttercup.”

-

Matthew was going to kill his brother. He was going to straight up murder him. On top of not being there to pick him up from the airport, he also didn't answer any texts or calls from Matt.

So yeah, when Matthew got home, he was going to kill Brady. When the Uber finally pulls up in front of him, Matthew is nearly halfway done with his plan to get away with it.

He fiddles with his phone as the driver pulls away from the curb, scanning the random notifications that he had popped up when he got off the plane. It's when he opens up Instagram that he really pays attention, the 3 stories in a row at the top of his feed catching his eye.

Taryn’s, yours, and Brady’s. Against his better judgement, he taps Taryn’s magenta-rimmed profile picture. The story takes a moment to load, but when it does, he sees a picture of you in front of the Tkachuk’s Christmas tree. You had your arms out in a ‘ta-da’ fashion, the fingers barely poking out through the sleeves of your sweater. Taryn’s caption reads “didn’t need an angel for the tree cause we already got @y/n/y/l/n”. He can't help but smile fondly, so distracted by how cute you look that he just stares at you until the time is up - but not before pressing on the screen so he could screenshot the photo.

Your first story was a repost of Taryn’s, a simple white heart emoji in the bottom corner. The second was a shot of the TV in the Tkachuk’s living room displaying the Grinch’s title. The caption reads “heart grows two sizes bigger when i’m home :)”. The location is tagged as St. Louis, with Taryn and Brady tagged in the corner of the photo. The third post makes his blood run cold, it's a video of you and Brady, your back against his chest as you lay on the couch, the caption the cross-eyed emoji and Brady’s handle. Brady is facing away from the camera in the beginning of the video, your eyebrows raised as you wait for him to notice. When he does he laughs and reaches for your phone. The video cuts off there.

Matthew taps the left side of his screen to replay it, an unpleasant feeling twisting in his gut. He doesn't want to watch Brady’s story, but he taps the right side of his screen anyways. It's a photo of you on the couch, one knee pulled up to your chest with the other in Brady’s lap, and a glass of wine in your hand. Your hair is piled into a messy bun on top of your head as you wink at the camera and make a peace sign with your free hand, tongue peaking out of the corner of your mouth.

Matt screenshots the picture.

He’s angry; angry because his brother left him stranded at the airport. Angry because he said he hadn't spoken to you either, that you didn't answer any of his texts and calls since that night. He's angry because Brady managed to get you back, and Matt didn't.

Matty’s angry because he loves you, and he's pretty sure you still love Brady.

When the car finally pulls up to the house, he’s almost relieved. He notes that the lights are off downstairs as he lets himself in, pausing when he sees your shoes still by the door. The glow of the TV is visible in the living room, and as Matt pads towards it, the uneasy feeling grows.

There's two partially filled glasses of wine on the coffee table, as well as yours and Brady’s phones. He taps on Brady’s phone, revealing the unread texts and unanswered calls from Matt, as well as an unread text from Chantal, telling Brady that he would have to be the one to pick up Matty from the airport.

The pit in Matt’s stomach only deepens as he climbs the stairs, duffle bag in hand. He goes slowly, trying to prolong his inevitable heartbreak, but it doesn't change what he sees at the top.

Brady’s bedroom door is half open, the light from the hallway streaming in.

Matthew knows it's a bad idea when he takes one, two, three steps and he's in front of Brady’s door. He takes a deep breath and pokes his head inside the room. The sight nearly knocks the wind out of him.

You're tucked under Brady’s arm, your nose squished against his cheek and your hand curled around his neck.  He can see the bare skin of your back and stomach pressed against Brady’s bare torso. A blanket covers the both of you from the waist down. Brady’s hair is a mess, and so is yours, and suddenly Matt feels nauseous.

He feels like he would do anything - anything - to make the feeling in his chest go away. It feels like pressure, too much pressure, in his chest, and he nearly clutches his heart. The blood is rushing in his ears, he can't breathe, he feels dizzy.

Why does it hurt so much?

Before he can think it through he’s stumbling to his room. He kicks the door shut behind him, tossing the duffle back on the floor near his bed. His hands are reaching for the backpack on his shoulders and pulling out his laptop before it even hits the ground. He doesn't even sit, placing the laptop on his bed and bending down to type into the search bar.

He barely pays attention to the final amount when he hits “confirm” - he has more money than he knows what to do with anyways. The moment it’s done he sighs, watching the Gmail notification light up on his phone.

“Flight Confirmation, December 23rd, 2020 11:25 pm

St. Louis, Missouri to Calgary, Canada”

#hehe #matthew tkachuk #brady tkachuk #calgary flames #ottawa senators #nhl imagine #hockey #smut #matthew tkachuk imagine #brady tkachuk imagine #angst #all for you series

[autisticlancemcclain]

fic rec friday 3

welcome the the third (late sorry) fic rec friday! where, on friday, i rec five of my favourite fics.

1. Immortal by @admiralcanthackett (sorry this is the last one for a while probably)

Lance gets impaled and Keith catches him in the bathroom later, blindedsided by the massive scar on his chest. Now Lance has to explain it and the many others he’s managed to collect along the way. But who would believe Lance is suddenly immortal?

This is up there with Blast Zone in terms of fics I’ve reread so many times I could probably recite it. I have made friends read this. I talk about this fic to people who aren’t in the fandom. This is a BAMF Lance fic, of course, but honestly it’s more Keith/Lance feels than anything. There’s no one who knows how capable Lance is like Keith does. 

2. Hell in High Heels by @azapofinspiration

To gain some information for the final assault on Zarkon, the Blade has asked Team Voltron to get it using some... feminine wiles. Seeing as Allura would be recognized in an instant and Pidge is uncomfortable, Lance easily steps up to the plate.

And Keith was not expecting this.

This fic is also up there with Blast Zone! Lance? Kicking ass in a skirt and stilettos? Yes ma’am! Side note but the first time this author reblogged one of my fics I freaked out lol I was so excited. I love this fic, it’s fun and flirty and the Garrison Trio dynamics are awesome. 

3. Birthday Surprises by @azapofinspiration

On a certain day, each of Team Voltron finds themselves the recipient of a package. It doesn't take them too much to figure out who's leaving them anonymous birthday presents.

Pretty much a 5+1 fic of the times members of Team Voltron are given a birthday present and the time they decided to return the favor.

Lance is such a sweetheart, I love him. This is a really sweet fic with Lance and the team just loving each other, basically. I’m always a sucker for a five plus one, and this one is a fun and quick read. 

4. Useless Talents by @admiralcanthackett

Lance has some "useless" talents that come in handy. Keith is impressed.

I’ll be real, a lot of these are going to be BAMF Lance. He’s just so cool. This one in particular, though, is pretty much just BAMF Lance with a side of whipped Keith, which is always fun. Contortionist Lance? Check. Archer Lance? Check. Observant Lance? Check. Literally everything you could want in a one-shot.

5. Only a Crack in this Castle of Glass by @icypantherwrites

Something strange is going on with Lance. The wincing and shivering and worried, scared glances in Allura’s direction mean something and Hunk is going to get to the bottom of it. But nothing could have prepared him for what he found. / “Allura was in trouble. And I… I shielded her. Me and Red. And… and we got hit. And…” Lance audibly swallowed again, voice even quieter and Hunk felt faint. “And I… I died.”

Or; the missing scene fic where Hunk (and the rest of Team Voltron) discover Lance died at Omega Shield and what this now means for them all.

There are not enough Omega Shield fics. Seriously. But this almost makes up for it! This fic, as is on par for icy panther, is a work of art. Expertly crafted, lengthy, and angsty as hell. Highly recommended if you’re mad about the later seasons. 

that’s it for today!! i’ll see y’all back next friday for the next fic rec post!!!

#these are making me all nostalgic fr #vld #voltron #lance #lance mcclain #klance #langst #bamf lance #omega shielf #smart lance #archer lance #team as family #longpost #fic rec #fic rec friday

[gloster]

FAVORITE FANFICS OF 2020

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!

I know I speak for all when I say....I cannot wait to toss 2020 out the door the way Uncle Phil constantly did with Jazz. One of the things that got me through this rough year, besides family & friends & BTS, were fanfics.

It’s that time of year again where I make a list of all the fanfics that I absolutely adored. Some are by veteran favs of mine, others are new to me who just knocked it out of the park. If you’re interested in past lists, here is 2019′s list and 2018′s. If y’all are interested in doing your own fanfic favs of the year, please do so and tag me. Always on the hunt for new favs. 

So without furhter ado, my fav fanfics of 2020:

1). Another Word for Forever series by stardropdream (sheith)

Summary: Shiro knows better than to expect love in an arranged marriage. This is all for the sake of universal peace, after all, and solidifying a Terran-Galran alliance. At the very least, Shiro can hope to make a friend out of this. Becoming friends would be much easier, though, if he and his husband could actually communicate. 

With a language barrier and a mountain of cultural differences between them, getting to know Keith proves to be a challenge. Luckily, Shiro's always worked well with challenges.

2020 shockingly became the year of sheith. I ended up rewatching the show w/my bestie @littlenightdragon​. Diving more deeply into it w/my other bestie @kila09​. She and I spent the better half of this year devouring so many fanfics of them in various AUs. I came across new fanfic authors, and stardropdream is among them. 

If I could describe this series & stardropdream, I’ll take a cue from Lady Gaga: “ talented, brilliant, incredible, amazing, show stopping, spectacular, never the same, totally unique, completely not ever been done before, unafraid to reference or not reference, put it in a blender, shit on it, vomit on it, eat it, give birth to it”

This series was just PERFECTION. I’ve gotten into arranged-marriage AUs and this has been one of the best I’ve read. It was just perfection. The language barrier definitely added an extra charm to it, in which Shiro finds his own ways to get to know his husband better: both creative and funny ways. So many cute moments, so many funny moments with Hunk being the translating middle man between them, and the smut. THE SMUT. THE SMUT. THE SMUT. Just *chef’s kiss* Incredible. It was just so so sweet, and such a comfort read. I reread this series 5 times already and hope Robin (the writer) does more stories in this AU.

Please read this series. You’re not gonna regret it. It will MELT your heart. 

Honorable Mentions:

If I Called You Mine

Sail Across the Sky Just to Get to You

Finding Shelter (The Alien Baby Remix)

Say You Do(n’t)

2). The Golden Hour by @goldentruth813​ (sheith)

Summary:  After a space mission failure, Shiro loses his arm and his career. Two years later he's settled into a quiet and simple new life on his farm, but when a beautiful alien crashes in his field, he discovers the answers to his questions—and possibly the keys to his future—will come from the stars.

I’m sure no one, least of all Janel the writer herself, is surprised to see this author featured on this list. For now the 3rd year in a row. WOOOW  👏🏿👏🏿👏🏿 She is the reason I got into shieth, and she just continues to put out amazing conent with them. This story by far has been the best she’s done this year-possibly one of the best ever. 

We have Shiro trying to have a simple life at the farm with his dog and animals. A curious BOM Keith who shakes things up with his boldness/innocence-and questions bound to test blood pressure, especially Shiro’s. Loads of cute moments, loads of funny moments, and also loads of oreos. 

If summary and my thoughts don’t sell you, only one thing will: reading it for yourself.

Honorable mentions:

Two Hearts in Bloom

Mountain Men

Home is in Your Heart

3). Spun like Gold by Neyasochi (sheith)

Summary: Though Shiro is currently operating his fledgling bakery business out of a decrepit food truck he got for cheap in a repossession sale, he dreams of something more: a cozy bakery and cafe on a tree-lined street somewhere, filled with the smell of fresh coffee and sugar glaze instead of diesel. A little money could go a long way to helping him get off the ground-- and luckily, Keith has money to burn.

Or: Keith takes care of Shiro’s financial woes, in exchange for a little sugar.

OMG, OMG, OMG was this story so sweet. Neyasochi already sold me with the baking/baker Shiro trope, but went a step further throwing in sugar-daddy Keith who knows his way around his manic family and cars, but when it comes to asking a cute guy out? What better way to make an impression than becoming his best paying customer?  

Honorable mentions:

oh, devour me

Healing Touch

on your hand of gold 

4). The Destiny You Sold by @tryslora​ (drarry)

Summary: In which Draco knits, Harry makes wands, and things get very tangled up between them.

If there’s one thing I love about fanfics is how they introduce you to tropes you never would consider before. Draco and knitting was a combo I didn’t realize how much I needed until now. And I love the fact knitting played a big part of the accidental bonding. Also loved the fact everyone in their friend group shipped them like crazy. Highly, highly recommend 

5) What’s My Age Again? by @lazywonderlvnd​ (drarry)

Summary: Harry Potter has had enough of pleasing the public, and his reckless tendencies are finally getting out of hand.

The Quidditch World Cup is only a week away; as Captain of the English National Team, Hermione has assured him that his immaturity won’t be tolerated by the Ministry.

And then Malfoy shows up.

(Inspired by the blink-182 song of the same name.)

It’s no secret that I’m such a fangirl of @lazywonderlvnd​. Any drarry story I read, I always love. Last year, I ADORED The Changing Lights, which was one of my favorites last year, and her updating/finishing the story was a massive highlight for me. I thank ya for that. 

This story was honestly refreshing. I’ve grown so used to Harry being responsible, always doing what’s right, that seeing a story where Harry pretty much has his middle finger in the air to “good reputation”, “being responsible,” because as he brought up: “I’m 25. I’ve been fighting all my life. I’ve earned my life to have fun.”

Okay, granted, it wasn’t quite like that but it was along those lines. And I agree. After all he went through, Harry deserves to have fun. He deserves to be reckless and make stupid decisions.

Also, it was such a blast reading a story where Harry is the brat & Draco has to keep him in line. LOVED.

Honorable mentions: 

Inside Your Mind

Aletheia

6). Chocolate and Pastry by agentmoppet, anemonen (drarry)

Summary:  When Pansy bets Draco that there is no chance he and Harry could carry out a genuine romantic relationship, he and Harry form a plan. But as their fake relationship progresses, Draco sees a side of Harry he never expected. Harry is struggling with something, pushing it far down inside him where he doesn't have to acknowledge its existence. Draco starts to worry, and then he starts to care, and then... horribly... he starts to fall in love.

Do not let the title fool you like it did me. Title alone, I was thinking it was going to be a fun, fluffy story involving baking, maybe chocolate crafting. However....it was not that at all. It was more. A lot deeper. A lot more angsty. It explored mental health, PTSD and the dangers of loved ones ignoring the signs, and contained an important message:

You can’t love someone out of their illness/disease/ addiction. Which is true and this story showed that. 

7). i’m still here by owedbetter (zutara)

Summary: "You see me."

And somehow, that makes all the difference.

If there’s one of the few good things 2020 has brought, it was Netflix bringing back ATLA to their library. Which in turn ignited my love for zutara & had me drag @kila09​ into that ship. 

This story was just incredible. The way it was written, it really felt like it could have been canon. Deleted scenes that a certain creator didn’t want us to see. The way Zuko and Katara came together, starting from their peaceful friendship after the Southern Raiders episode up, becoming closer along the way. 

I dare y’all to read this and not think OMG...is this secret canon bonus material? I definitely plan to read more by owedbetter. 

8). all the what ifs i never said by rosegardenlake (sheith)

Summary:  Keith is nine when he first notices Shiro. Shiro is gentle and quiet, always keeping to himself. Keith is rough and loud, running wherever his feet will take him, screaming on the top of his lungs into the wind. But despite that, they're a constant throughout each other's lives...if only that could be enough. As they grow, Keith just wants them both to be happy, but instead, he's falling apart.

Rosegardenlake is another sheith writer who I adored last year & adore this year as well. This was a story that I read during the beginning of quarantine-life and when I tell you the number of times Keith’s emotions of loneliness got to me, it’s a big number. 

Keith’s struggle with life after high school, after peaking in school, and his mental health reminded me too much of where I was at 2018, which wasn’t a good year for me at all, especially mentally. So that was triggering but it was also helpful since I saw how far I came. And it was beautiful seeing how far Keith came. 

Also the relationship between Shiro and Keith was just beautiful. It’s very funny how Keith was Shiro’s protector growing up and Shiro became Keith’s later on in life. There’s a chance your heart may be heavy, but will also be so swelled up with feelings these two bring it. 

Honorable mentions:

Where the Light Doesn’t Reach 

9). When Night Comes by Oh_Hey_Tae (BTS; poly ot7)

Summary: Jungkook’s tipsy, but he’s not buzzed enough to miss that he doesn’t recognize any of the four dozen people here. And seeing as his friends aren’t ones to ditch and there’s no way they’d play a prank this mean on him, Jungkook reaches the conclusion that he just walked into a stranger’s very expensive home, uninvited, and started eating their food and petting their well-dressed dog.

(Or: Jungkook shows up to the wrong Halloween party and meets the most powerful family in Seoul.)

I can easily say Oh_Hey_Tae easily one of my favorite BTS fanfic favs. Always come through with the stories, and this one was just amazing. We have Jungkook stumbling into a Halloween story, and soon enters into a intense, insane relationship with all six guys, who are already in a relationship with each other. Oh, and supernatural creatures at that. 

You do see certain relationships are stronger, deeper. For example, a lot of moments between Jin and Jungkook. Vmin has their own story and moments. But it was just so amazing. 

Fair warning. Halfway through, things get darker and Oh_My_Tae really loves playing readers diirty with the angst, but it’s so good. 

10). peace-weaver by magisterpavus (sheith)

Summary: You will be the peace-weaver, his mother told him, smiling though her dark eyes welled with unshed grief. The one who brings two bitter enemies together and ends the bloodshed and death between us, once and for all.

But men will always crave war. The Galra, most of all.

Yet another arranged-marriage AU that I loved. This particular one is well-loved in the sheith fandom. I can definitely say it’s considered one of the classic fanfics that’s been read or shared at one point or another. 

The story itself reminded me a lot of Macbeth, involving murder and dark forces at bay. The dynamics between Shiro and Keith reminded me of Drogo and Daenerys from GOT, one of my fav couples there, which only made it all the more better for me. 

I do credit the author for the creative approach they took with quintessence and Shiro’s role/persona as the Champion

Honorable mentions:

The Boy in the Window 

Sheith Demon/Priest AU

A Matter of Scale

Directive 

Honorable mentions that I seriously wanted to add to the list but this post is already lengthy. All amazing, all greats reads by various writers y’all should check out:

Hold Me Tight, or Don’t by snowfallen (yoonmin with a Mr. & Mrs. Smith AU featuring assassins and hitmen, secret identities, fake marriage, and a lot of smut)

The Prince and Pirate by Maniacani, @nerdherderette​ (drarry with a splash of royalty and pirates. Perfect if you’re needing to fill in any Pirates of the Caribbean or Black Sails cravings)

First Kisses are the Best Ones by SashaDistan (sheith in a 50 First Dates Fusion heartfelt/heart-gutting story)

freely, as men strive for right by @bixgirl1​ (drarry w/Harry explaining the many ways why Draco’s the love of his life. we love to see it)

The Sacrificed by SasuNarufan13 (sasunaru w/ dark fairytale elements similar to Little Red Riding Hood & Beauty and the beast + feat. mpreg)

Chasing Treacle Tart (and Draco Malfoy) by xErised (drarry feat. lunch lady Draco + scheming Harry + loads of fun w/sweets & more)

Red Desert by @beatitudinembty​ (taekook in a unique sci-fi AU; hard to explain but so worth a read

one way ticket to another life by starboykeith (sheith Hades x Persephone background)

Even So by lewilder (zutara; arranged marriage+ language barrier +soft strangers to lovers)

Well, lovely people, there you have it. My top 10 favorite fanfics of the year. I do notice a certain ship shows up a lot on this list, but I wasn’t kidding when I said they took over this year. Still, I tried to mix the list up with other fav ships/fandoms of mine. To the writers who created these incredible stories. I applaud you. I thank you for creating and sharing these wonderful stories. Anyone interested in doing the tag, please do. 

HAPPY NEW YEAR, GUYS

#favorite fanfics of the year #favorite fanfics #fanfic recs #fic recs #drarry #drarry fanfic recs #drarry fic recs #drarry recs #sheith #sheith fanfic recs #sheith fic recs #sheith recs #zutara #zutara fanfic recs #zutara fic recs #zutara recs #bts #bts fanfic recs #bts fic recs #taekook #yoonmin #ot7 #sasunaru #sasunaru fanfic rec

[fandomreves]

keith richards - oneshot

TOXIC  Ⓐ

Plot: Her and Keith are still together although the relationship has been over for quite sometime.

Request:  Hi!!! Could I please request something with either Keith Richards from The Rolling Stones or Steve Jones from the Sex Pistols? Whomever you feel more comfortable writing about. Thank you so much and have a wonderful day! :) +  Ahh same Anon as before! I realized I forgot to ask ask: if it’s not too much trouble, could it be kinda angsty for whomever you chose? But if you have something else in mind then that’s completely cool too!!! Thank you so much! :)

A/N: Thank you so much for requesting! I love Keith and broke my own heart while writing this, hope this is what you wanted! 

With Keith nothing was the same anymore, your conversations were filled with empty words, brought by empty feelings; but still, your relationship prevailed. It had gotten to the point where you and him had turned into some codependent relationship where neither you or him wanted to end it because you both were too comfortable in what you had, and although it wasn’t the same anymore, it was almost like you were tied to the other. 

The only time conversation wasn’t empty was when you were arguing, this was usually in a passive aggressive demeanor, where you both would trash talk and blame the other for the relationship failing, or for not fulfilling promises you made to the other, mentioning all the times either of you had been unfaithful. It got nasty with words, and they would usually end in you walking out of the room. 

In other times you guys would make up after an argument with some steamy hate sex, but it had been months since either of you had the innitiative to even think about touching the other, you knew Keith would go to groupies instead, and Keith knew you’d go to some other musicians to fulfill your needs. 

However, it didn’t matter how fucked up your relationship was, he still wanted you around when he left for long tours, and you always complied, you always went with him; the guys didn’t really mind you around, unlike your relationship with Keith, you actually got along with the rest of the band, they knew about the toxicity in your relationship, but as long as it didn’t affect in his work, they didn’t interfere. 

You walked in your shared hotel room after a night of partying, after the stones played the night before you had left to some local pub, bumping into some of the guys from Led Zeppelin, partying through the night with the blonde haired hottie. You were in a good mood, it had been a good night, but the feeling vanished once you noticed the smell of sex, smoke and liquor inside. 

Spotting Keith laying on the bed, his legs dangling on the side as his back rested flat on the mattress, he was wearing only a pair of boxers, his chest marked with hickeys and scratches, a lit cigarette between his lips. 

“You could at least try and hide the love marks Keef” 

You sighed and took your heels off, placing your bag by one of the small tables in the room. 

“Like you do? Who did you see last night? I heard Percy was in town” 

He was sitting by the edge of the bed now, taking a drag from his cigarette before letting it rest in between his fingers, he wasn’t looking at you, instead he stared at the big window by the bed. 

“You promised you were going to cut back from drinking whiskey” 

You were looking around the room, avoiding his questions, when you noticed all the different bottles of Jack and Absolute on the tables, accompanied by ashtrays filled with burned buds, he clearly had some people over while you were gone.

“And you promised you weren’t going to hurt me, I guesses we both fucked up”

He turned his head to look at you as he spoke, taking another long drag as you sighed and took your dress off, hoping to take a hot shower, you didn’t want to argue.

“He kept your panties as well huh” 

He chuckled and shook his head when he noticed your naked body once your dress was off. 

“He gets to keep my panties, you get to keep your love marks, what do I get? What did the girl you had over get?” 

With your hand on your hip you stared back, an eyebrow raised. It was stupid when he tried and act jealous after nights like last night, he acted hurt by your actions when he did the exact same thing, you never asked about his girls, or commented on his marks unless he started arguing about your whereabouts first, like today. 

At the beginning you did, it used to hurt more than now when you and him were drifting apart, and when he started arriving home later than before with the smell of perfume and swollen lips it was more than clear to you that he was spending his time with other people, and after being tired of arguing you stopped mentioning it, but once you had started doing the same thing, he never once stopped asking you about it. 

“Do you love him?”

Here it goes again, more digging on your lovers. 

“Keith I only love myself”

You had long stopped looking at him, instead you continued to gather your toiletries and towels for your shower. 

“So when did you stop loving me?”

He stood as he said it, walking to the closest ashtray, throwing the smoken bud. His question made you stop in your tracks, you didn’t expect him to say that. It made you think, when did you stop loving him? Did you stop loving him?

Your heart ached, so maybe the flame was still there, it was just very dim at this point, but if it was still there then why didn’t you feel guilty while you were out with other people?

“When did you stop loving me?”

With nothing to say, you returned the questions intead. Truth was, in his heart and soul it was very clear that he loved you still, he was the one who drifted apart first, all due to his personal stress, he pushed you apart more and more and ended hurting you and himself in the process. 

But he also knew he couldn’t just tell you he loved you, he hadn’t shown it in months, he hadn’t even tried to. It would just be useless and you wouldn’t trust him either.

You hummed at his lack of words, “I’m gonna shower now” 

“I have soundcheck in a bit, so by the time you’re out I’ll be gone” 

You always did this, you shut him out when you spoke about the relationship, you ran away, and he knew this was going to happen as soon as you walked in, it was just a matter of how many questions you could take from him. 

“I’ll see around then, I’ll go to the show tonight” 

You had started the shower as you spoke to him, not getting any answer back from him; instead he got dressed and left, shutting the door harshly behind him to let you know he was gone.

#the rolling stones #rolling stones #the rolling stones oneshot #the rolling stones imagine #keith richards #keith richards oneshot #keith richards imagine

[authorjoydragon]

I saw a 2020 summary of works written and I decided to do one myself :)

2020 was rough, and I kind of had taken a step back from publishing even though I still was writing. (I only published ONE story in all of 2019! My bad!) I decided to start again about midway through 2020. And this year I had a new fandom to write about: Avatar the Last Airbender. I’ve always been in love with the show ATLA since it aired, and for some reason never delved into the fanfiction until recently. Maybe one day I’ll write for LOK as well. Voltron: Legendary Defenders of the Universe, and Miraculous Ladybug were old obsessions (or should I say ongoing obsessions) but I did post a couple there too. Anyways, here’s my list of posted works for 2020:

Zutara Week 2020- As the title suggests, this is seven picked prompts for the ship Zuko x Katara in ATLA. A non-canon ship that many people adore. Posted 7/24/20

Love Is Blind- This fluffy piece is also for ATLA but focuses more on the non-canon ship Toph x Aang. Posted 8/17/20

Colorful- A fluffy excerpt from the story above featuring Taang. Posted 9/24/20

Cause and Effect- A drama Voltron fic featuring the non-canon ship Lance x Keith. I’m still heartbroken they weren’t together in the end. Posted 9/24/20

The Cat’s Out of the Bag- A comedic take on Adrien accidentally revealing his superhero identity to the Dupain-Cheng family. Typical reveal fic for MLB. Posted 9/24/20 (as you can see I cleaned up some fics and cleared them out on this day 😂)

Almost Lovers- An ongoing angsty fic showcasing the breakup of Aang and Katara as Zuko unknowingly comes between them. Posted 9/28/20

Accidental Rendezvous- (M) a total smut fest featuring Zutara and drunk accidents. Posted 9/28/20

Fantasy Land- An almost crack-like fic of Aang traveling to his future and finding out his wife is Toph. Posted 10/21/20

Requited Love- An absolutely adorable drama fic of Toph and Aang pining for each other. Bonus of parental teasing. Posted 11/9/20

Taang Week 2020- Again, as the title suggests, this is a collection of given prompts featuring Taang. Overall very fluffy. Posted 11/11/20

The Universe is Unkind- A terribly sad fic featuring the non-canon (as far as we know) ship Toph x Sokka. Yes I am a multishiper. TW character deaths. This was one of the saddest things I’ve ever written. Posted 11/21/20

Prospects- A delightful collection of prompts featuring Zutara. (Some M) Includes the 2020 December Drabbles Challenge prompts. May possibly be posting more in the future. Posted 12/4/20

On The Precipice- An ongoing Taang story of the fluffiest fluff you have ever read. Gag worthy sweetness and pining. Posted 12/13/20

And that was my posting spree of the last half of 2020! As you can see, I am cursed to ship non-canon couples apparently. I will say MOST of this had already been in the works for months, but I sure did a heck of a lot of writing and publishing in the last few months. It feels good to create. I hope you all enjoyed my works!

#authorjoydragon #atlafic #voltron #miraculous ladybug #fanfiction #zutara fanfiction #taang fic #tokka fanfic #klance #marichat #adriennette #my writing #creating #2020 wrapped #2020 writing #zutara #Taang #sukka #atla