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dnalt-d2 · 3 months

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SO QSMP PRISON, RIGHT???

Day 1 Edition lmao

To start off with, I'm really happy to hear my little theory about the Prison essentially being the safeguard for the Islanders against the Eye Workers was correct (Or at least seems to be so far)

But now for my thoughts on TODAY

THE FIRST DAY OF THIS FOUR THREE(?) DAY LONG EVENT (More on that later)

First off, who else thinks it's incredibly weird the Watcher was suddenly British?? He was DEFINITELY not British before, and unless this was just some unavoidable thing they had to do for just today, that probably means something

Specifically that this might not actually BE the Watcher. Or at least not the same Watcher. Even aside from the voice difference, the way he talked seemed to be a little different to me. I'm not sure what this could mean Lore-wise, or if it means anything at all, but I just really wanted to bring attention to it in case it was

Secondly, am I the only one who felt like today was just too…Casual? For lack of a better word. This didn't feel like some big thing the way Purgatory did. For better, in my opinion. But it's still strange that this feels so lackadaisical considering the circumstances. All the Islanders, and the Eggs are locked up, with the Federation keeping them under lock and key and being MORE THAN GENEROUS with the use of deadly force

(RIP BBH and IronMouse. RIP Over and over and over and over-)

Idk, the vibes here feel really weird to me, and I'm not sure what to make of that either. Like maybe someone's trying to downplay how serious this is all gonna be in the long run. It's hard to put into words

Though I will say they were very FUN vibes regardless. This was fucking hilarious and I enjoyed just about every second I saw of it. Short as it was (Poor BBH once again, having his time cut short. What will he even do for the other 20 hours of the day if he only gets this much time in the server? Certainly not sleep, I imagine lol)

There's also the mystery of that ghost (Cellbit) that's haunting the place, but again, Idk if this is a lore thing, or Cellbit wanting to get in on the action even though canonically, his character is off being insane on Purgatory. He might be kinda the same way Abueloier is most of the time, you know?? I feel like he's definitely gonna be related to any lore that happens, but at the same time, I'm not too sure I'd be surprised if that wasn't the case either

(Just to point out, I don't think Abueloier is related to the Lore. Roier just wanting to screw around, and frankly, power to him. Even IF Ratoier would've gone hella hard here. Fuckin rat in the prison robbing people at gunpoint would've been HILARIOUS and I really hope to see it before the event is done)

Though this kinda brings me back to my second point, that I'm actually having a hard time telling if stuff that's happening is Lore, or just players/admins screwing around or changing things for the sake of content or otherwise

Usually, I'm pretty good at discerning what is and isn't incidental, but here, I've said at least a few times now that idk what is and isn't lore. And I think that's kinda what's contributing to this whole thing feeling off to me. (Not in a bad way, I wanna reiterate. I'm having a hell of a lot of fun here)

So yeah, to wrap up my thoughts on this, Prison is fun so far, and I can't wait for the insanity to continue tomorrow

(And note: I do have one additional thing to say about this event as well, but I wanna put that in a separate post so I can make sure I've got all my thoughts together)

Now back to our own Purgatory of waiting for Day 2

#AND CAN I JUST SAY #THANK YOU FOR NOT MAKING ME THEORIZE LIKE CRAZY AGAIN #PURGATORY WAS MAKING ME CRAZY #I'M NOT A THEORIST #I LIKE TO TRY PREDICTING WHERE STORIES WILL GO #BUT DON'T MAKE ME DO PUZZLES PLEASE I BEG #Or at least give me the actual pieces this time lol #Cause I've been able to put SOME pieces together #But again #I NEEDED THE PIECES FIRST #FUCKIN CURSED TEAM NONSENSE #NO CURSED TEAM THEORY SUPERIORITY #qsmp #qsmp theory #qsmp analysis #I guess #Idk if this is really a theory #I'm saving that for later lol #qsmp prison

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elvisabutler · 1 year

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quick admin note. several of them, actually.

one, within the next week you all will get a fun little- teaser/beginning chapter of a fic that- was supposed to be a one shot but is very quickly spiraling into something that is very much not a one shot. i am very proud of it though and hope that y'all will enjoy it too.

two, depending on how the next few days go i'll have the ending of professor presley out. i'd tell you tomorrow but it is my fourth wedding anniversary tomorrow so that just slightly outranks everything else.

three, not to be mean or anything, but this really is an 18+ only blog. i write too much smut to see any minors running around my blog. if you end up reading stuff, that's on you but do not let me see it by you liking the fics if you clearly have an age under 18 on your blog because i will have to block you. i've already done it to multiple people.

and four, i enabled tipping on here but trust me when i say you don't have to tip or anything. figured it's there if y'all want but feel free to ignore.

#admin notes #*admin

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soft-epilogue-continues · 1 year

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5.10.23

Ok so I got nothing done yesterday except the project update and filing my nails. In my defense, the novel-length fic I was reading was really good and brought me lots of joy.

I have spent the past half an hour working on my own fic so that I could get it out of my system, though this has made me even more excited to work on it and I hope I can keep that excitement up this evening. With any luck I'll be able to edit this chapter and post it tonight!

Also in my defense of yesterday's zero output, I started looking for a new job, which I do every once in a while when the ennui gets to be too much.

My thought is that if I transition away from being a software engineer and go to being a product manager I would have all the same bullshit I'm dealing with now but with none of the inferiority anguish I feel from being a shit programmer. I have a few options in this regard:

Apply for a product manager role I don't necessarily want just to have the interviewing practice and see if I can get such a job.

Attempt to transition to a similar role at my current company to see if I even like it.

Put my nose to the grindstone and become a better programmer even though every bone in my body is screaming that while I am capable of this, I do not want to do this.

At the moment I want to do option 2 though I suppose I should also make more of an effort at option 3. Regardless I think I'm giving myself until next March for a few reasons:

I don't want to give back my new work laptop and it will officially become mine in March 2024.

All of my stock options will have vested by then and I will have had the opportunity to exercise as much of them as possible (need to get on this this year actually so taxes are less of a headache).

I will have gone through another review cycle which, according to my last one, means I might get promoted if I get my ass in gear since the only thing holding me back is how slowly I deliver completed projects, a fixable thing.

The length of time will give me a chance to "design my work life" (as per that book of the same name that I will be going through) and see, in the most risk-averse way possible, if I even like the work required of a product manager. To that end there are a few things I can start doing now that I know of without even going through that book's work sheets, such as attending my working group's assessment meeting tomorrow and maybe checking out the work done by the current product team, of which I am not 100% certain that we even have one as such. All of this I will record in the incredible Japanese notebook/bullet journal with my incredible Japanese pen (pictured above) that I bought on my work trip to Tokyo two weeks ago (just another thing to be grateful for about this job - I get to go on awesome trips!)

Ok! Enough outlining grand plans, the to do list!

Work:

Quantitative experiment analysis

Qualitative analysis

Phone roaming charges reimbursement I have checked on this and I have not yet been charged for international stuff

Work trip photos, part 1 Done though I will take a break here and actually share them with my coworkers another time, I've spent enough time on this today

Read the assessment before tomorrow's meeting

Investigate the product team

Go through mountain of receipts for reimbursements

Registration form for upcoming all company meet up

Personal Admin/Life:

Exercise

Cook dinner

Health expenses substantiation

Budget

Personal Creative:

Work on fic #1

Work on digital painting

Self portrait?

Volunteering!!! (I am so behind on this. This is actually a programming project of the computational linguistics variety which is its own possible career exploration, not to mention actually interesting, so I can't neglect this!)

#softly going #work #tech industry ennui #working life angst

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songsformonkeys · 4 years

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Digging Up Bones (whiskey x reader) - chapter 5

[Banner by the lovely @yespolkadotkitty ]

pairing: whiskey x reader

warnings: none

notes: Special thanks to @yespolkadotkitty for being the best cheerleader and for helping me find the Whiskey voice when Ezra was a little too keen on coming out to play <3

masterlist

Chapter 5 - AO3

Over the next few weeks, the staff of the medical department slowly but surely began coming back to the HQ as more and more civilians recovered from the injuries they had sustained during what Whiskey had begun referring to as the Worldwide Freak Out. That meant things were picking up speed in the department and there was more and more admin work for you to do. You didn't really mind. It was nice to have more stuff to do again. But there was a small part of you that was a bit disappointed by the fact that more work meant less time spent with Whiskey.

The agent in question had, as soon as the cast on his leg had come off, been given a rigorously crafted schedule for physical exercise to get him back on track and back to working again as soon as possible. He took his training sessions very seriously and you suspected it was mostly in a desperate attempt to stay one step ahead of the boredom. There was an old (and faulty myth) that all sharks had to keep swimming or else they would die. If that statement had been true, Whiskey would have been one of those sharks. He didn't do stationary life very well.

After a while, you had started to keep him company on his training sessions, bringing a book to read while he excercised. He never asked you to work out with him, seemed perfectly content with just having you sit crosslegged in your scrubs on the mat closeby and read. However, most days, you didn't get as much reading done as you would have liked. There was something too fascinating about the cowboy agent stretching his body into various yoga poses while still wearing his Stetson. At least he was wearing actual workout pants and not his usual blue jeans, you had thought to yourself more than once.

Even though Whiskey was recovering remarkably well, the workouts took their toll on him and by the time the 20 minute mark rolled around, he was always a little paler than when he'd started and his hands trembled slightly as he accepted the water bottle that he always kept next to you.

The first time you'd told him that you wouldn't be able to keep him company for that day's training session because of other work, he'd looked so disappointed that you had immediately changed your mind, figuring that tomorrow was just as good for writing, if not better even. It took three more tries before you could actually hold your ground against his pleading eyes, though you suspected that a visit from Vermouth might also have made Whiskey dial down the wounded puppy look a bit. After that, you only joined him on Tuesdays and Fridays.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was a little past lunch time. Your stomach had been complaining about the lack of food for the better part of an hour but you stubbornly ignored it in favor of finishing up your work.

You made a low but frustrated growl as you were interrupted by a knock on the door to your office.

“Come in!” you snapped, loud enough for the interruptor to hear through the door, but you continued typing on your keyboard. The door creaked as it opened.

“Whoa there, darlin', your mouth said enter but that tone of yours says maybe I shouldn't...” came the soft and slightly amused voice of Agent Whiskey. You quickly spun around in your chair to greet him.

“Whiskey!” you said, feeling something warm stir in your belly. Probably hunger. You smiled and a mirroring smile spread across his lips. He was leaning on his crutches and the slight slump to his shoulders told you that he was already tired, despite it only being mid day.

“Hiya, sugar. Am I interrupting something?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“No, no. I was just finishing up,” you lied and waved him inside. As he hopped over to your desk, his eyes landed on the open document on the your screen, which was obviously nowhere near done. You quickly shut off the monitor. Whiskey didn't say anything, but the small smile on his lips looked smug.

“How are you feeling?” you asked, before he could comment on anything.

“Better now that I'm here,” he answered with a smarmy smile. You rolled your eyes at him.

“You do know that being in close proximity to a doctor isn't enough to heal you, right?” you teased.

“It's an hypothesis I'm willing to try,” he said in a dangerously low voice and leaned in. Your heart suddenly felt like it was beating in your throat, fast as a rabbit's. You knew that was physically impossible but swore that was what it felt like. Whiskey stopped, with a few inches to spare between your noses. “Hmm, as I suspected. Significantly better,” he said, with a grin.

“At what p-value?” you asked, voice barely more than a shrill whisper. Whiskey frowned.

“What?” he asked, his flirty smile giving way for confusion. You swallowed.

“You have to specify at what p-value the results are significant,” you explained.

“Oh, as high as it gets, honey,” Whiskey said, the flirty grin coming back with full force. You opened your mouth to protest but before you have a chance to, Whiskey pulled back and you could breathe again.

“I actually had a reason for coming over here, besides to interrupt your work,” Whiskey went on and leaned his hip against your desk.

Your voice still wasn't quite back to normal so you just raised your eyebrows as a response. Whiskey lowered his gaze, picked a little the handle of his crutch before looking up at you again.

“See I was hopin' that maybe you would let me make you dinner tomorrow night...”

You blinked. “Why?”

“Why?” he echoed.

“I mean, yes. That would be nice...Thank you.”

Whiskey beamed before chuckling.

“Well aren't you polite.” He glanced up at the clock on the wall, “I should get going, I have a meeting with Champ soon and it's gonna take me at least 15 minutes to hobble over there. But tomorrow it is!”

You nodded.

“Oh, and Moonshine?” he added.

“Yes?” you asked.

“No scrubs tomorrow, alright. This ain't a work-meeting.”

And with that, he left.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You stood outside of Whiskey's door the next evening and you didn't think you had ever felt this uncomfortable in your life. You had told Ginger about the dinner plans, the day before. She had offered to help you with the clothes and had then dragged you off to the Statesmen warderobe, where they held all the clothes that had been bought and used for various previous missions. You had told Ginger that you had perfectly good clothes in your room but she had just looked you up and down before simply stating that “Not for this occasion, you don't”. She hadn't specified what kind of occasion that was. And, standing outside of Whiskey's apartment in a pair of blue jeans that were so tight they might as well have been painted on and wearing a gray top with a neckline that plunged so low that open heart surgery could probably have been performed on you without having to remove the top, you still weren't sure just what kind of occasion you had been dressed for.

Your sternum felt cold. You didn't think you had ever worn a shirt that made your sternum cold. You pulled a little on the fabric, feeling awkward, before reaching up to knock on the door.

Whiskey could be heard hopping on his crutches on the other side of the door.

“Moonshine, you're just in t...” Whiskey began as he pushed the door open but then he just stopped. His mouth fell open slightly and he just stared. You felt like turning around to run. Whiskey was wearing a clean white buttondown shirt, with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, paired with his usual pair of jeans. He looked nice but he still looked like himself. Unlike you.

You waited patiently for the rest of Whiskey's sentence but it never came. You were a little tempted to wave your hand in front of him, just to make sure time hadn't stopped. But you could hear the radio playing somewhere in his apartment so it must just be you that were giving him pause.

“Hi,” you said, trying to help him back to the present, and it worked. Whiskey closed his mouth and gave you a warm smile.

“Sorry, darlin'. It just caught this ol' cowboy by surprise seeing you in clothes other than those scrubs of yours.”

“You told me I wasn't allowed to wear them,” you reminded him.

“I did. And knowing you, I figured there was about a 50% chance that you would listen,” Whiskey laughed and took a small hop forward to give you a swift kiss of the cheek. His cheek was clean-shaven and smooth against yours and he was wearing cologne. “Welcome, sugar, I'm glad you could make it.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Is something the matter, darlin'?”

You stilled in your seat and stopped fidgeting with the fabric of your shirt as you were trying to make sure that is was still covering all the bits it was supposed to cover, even after you had reached for another piece of the truly amazing chicken that Whiskey had cooked for you.

You didn't immidiately answer. Didn't want to complain. Whiskey had prepared a fantastic meal, and had even brought out candles and a tablecloth for the occasion. He'd entertained you with stories from his travels and if there was anything agent Whiskey was good at, it was telling a good story. Normally, you would have been completely entralled, but tonight you couldn't quite focus. And Whiskey had noticed.

“You've been pulling at that shirt of yours for the better part of the evening,” he continued when you didn't answer him, “And while that would usually be enough to drive any man crazy, I feel like I should ask... would you be more comfortable in a different shirt? I'd be more than happy to lend you something.”

You only hesitated for a second before nodding, feeling a little bit like a child by the fact that you apparently couldn't even dress yourself for one night out of your scrubs. Whiskey only seemed pleased by your answer, however, and he stood from the table and gestured for you to follow him into the bedroom.

You had never been in Whiskey's bedroom last time you were here so now you seized the opportinity to look around. The better part of the room was taken up by a huge bed, with a wooden bedframe that almost looked homemade. The sheets were dark blue and the bed was meticulously made. Atop of one of the bedposts hung his lasso. There was wooden closet pushed up against one of the walls and it matched the material of the bedframe. A pair of brown cowboy boots hade been kicked off into one of the corners and on a hook on the wall hung a bathrobe with the pattern of the american flag. It looked soft. The whole room was so Whiskey it was almost hilarious. The only things missing would have been a small bar and a hat rack full of Stetsons.

Whiskey emerged from the closet with a simple white t-shirt that he held up for your inspection.

“Will this fit the lady's preferences?” he asked and you nodded without really looking. Any shirt would be better than the uncomfortable mess you were currently wearing. Whiskey handed you the shirt with a teasing grin.

“I suppose sticking around to make sure is out of the question?”

You snatched the shirt from his hand and held it to your chest as you slapped his arm with your other hand. Whiskey just laughed.

“I'll be out in the kitchen then. Just holler if you need me,” he said with a wink before disappearing from the room and closing the door behind him. You waited for a few seconds, not entirely trusting that he wouldn't conveniently remember something that he just had to tell you now, before you changed.

The t-shirt was about a 100 times more comfortable than your own top and you no longer had to worry about any bodyparts escaping whe you moved. The shirt also smelled of Whiskey, which you had to admit, was an added bonus, even if you weren't sure exactly why.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After dinner, you helped Whiskey clean up. Not because he asked you but because you had noticed his shoulders beginning to slump from overexertion by the end of the meal, even though he put on a brave face trying to cover it up.

He protested when you told him you'd do the dishes, but you could hear that he only half meant it and when you began filling up the sink with water, he just picked up a towel and told you that he'd help dry the things you cleaned.

You didn't talk much while you worked and it was quite nice. You caught Whiskey watching you out of the corner of his eye more than once and every time you assured him that it's fine and that you didn't mind doing the dishes.

“That's not...” he began but he didn't finish the sentence and you didn't push.

When the dishes were done, Whiskey told you that he'd be walking you back to your room. This time it was your turn to protest, telling him that it was fine, that you could find your way home on your own and that he should rest instead.

“I'm walking you back to your room,” Whiskey told you again, in a voice that left zero room for discussion. You knew a lost cause when you saw one and so you just sighed.

“Fine, but don't complain to me when you're tired and sore tomorrow.”

“Don't make promises you can't keep, sugar,” was Whiskey's only reply and you frowned, not quite understanding what he meant.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It took twice as long for you to walk back to your room with Whiskey, as it had taken to walk over to his place without him. Whiskey's jaw was tightly clenched as he slowly limped forward with his crutches. You stopped and pretended that you had to retie your shoelaces, twice, to give him short breaks that you knew he would refuse to ask for.

When you reached the door to your room, his lips were almost worryingly pale, but when he saw your frown he gave you a warm smile.

“Don't start working just yet, darlin'. You're still off the clock,” he said.

“Your lips are very pale,” you told him.

“Maybe they're just cold?” he countered, with a pout. You rolled your eyes and shook your head with a smile.

“Goodnight, Whiskey. This was really nice,” you said instead, and you meant it. This had been a really great evening and you were glad that he had invited you over, even if the doctor part of your brain wished that he hadn't made such a fuzz and instead had opted for something simpler that required less energy from him. Whiskey smiled softly at you.

“It was, wasn't it...” He trailed off, looking like he wanted to say something more.

“What?” you prompted him and he looked up and met your gaze. His impossibly soft brown eyes held your eyes for a moment before he looked down with an almost shy smile.

“Oh darlin', I'm just debating whether or not to push my luck this evening,” he said but you were still confused. This wasn't quite following the usual script for saying goodnight.

“Moonshine,” Whiskey said, his voice unusually serious as he leaned forward slightly on his crutches, his fingers tapping a nervous rhythm against the plastic of the handles, “Tonight has been magical and I'm fully aware I should pull in my horns before I get greedy... but Honey...Darlin...you know I'm sweet on ya and... a better man than me would wish you sweet dreams and walk away. But I'm not that better man and I can't help but hope for just a little more...”

“Oh?” you said, blinking. You know I'm sweet on ya... You know I'm sweet on ya... You knew Whiskey was fond of you, that he cared for you. He'd shown that in a hundred different ways. But that kind of fondness wasn't what he was confessing to now, if his whole body language and the hestitation behind every word was anything to go by. No, this was something else, something more, and he thought you already knew. You felt a little lightheaded.

“A little more of what?” you asked, just to be sure, and Whiskey let out a breath you hadn't noticed he'd been holding. A hopeful smile began spreading across his lips.

“Well, with lips like those, maybe a kiss would be a good place to start?” he suggested and your stomach did a flip.

“I've never kissed anyone before,” you said and it came out sounding almost a bit hostile, like you were daring Whiskey to make the wrong comment in response. You'd seen other people's reactions when you'd previously mentioned your lack of experience and while you weren't entirely sure exactly what response you did want from him, you knew that pity wasn't it.

Whiskey looked surprised for a moment but then he quickly recovered.

“I'd be thrilled as any man can be to be your first, if you'd let me,” he said.

You nodded and stepped forward, figuring that since he was the injured one, he should get to remain stationary for this. Besides, you knew... in theory, how this was done. Whiskey made a surprised laugh when you gripped the front of his shirt with both hands to pull him in those last couple of inches. The laugh was cut short when your mouth pressed against his.

His lips were soft as velvet and the mustache tickled your upper lip. There was a deafening clatter in the empty corridor as one of Whiskey's crutches fell to the floor. A second later, his hand curved around the back of your neck and his lips began moving against yours. An unfamiliar heat pooled low in your belly and you gripped Whiskey's shirt a little tighter to steady yourself.

When you both finally pulled back, an eternity and at the same time not long enough later, Whiskey looked at you as if you'd hung the Moon.

“How was that?” he asked and, despite the cocksure smile on his face, there was a faint note of genuine worry to his tone of voice.

“I would like to do that again sometime,” you told him. Whiskey beamed and the smile was bright enough that it could probably have lit up all of Kentucky. He leaned in for another, and to your disappointment, much quicker kiss.

“I'd be happy to help with that,” he said when he pulled back. Your cheeks felt warm and somehow you knew that if you didn't go inside your room now, you'd ask Whiskey to come with you and he was not well enough for that.

So you blurted out a quick goodnight and before Whiskey could get a reply in, you hurried into your room and closed the door. With your ear pressed against the metal, you thought you could hear a faint chuckle before Whiskey left.

You reached up to touch your lips. You just kissed Whiskey.

#digging up bones #whiskeyxreader #whiskey/reader #whiskey fanfiction #jack daniels/reader #jack daniels x reader #jack daniels fanfiction #kingsman golden circle fanfiction #my fanfiction

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deliciouslyswaggytrashcan · 5 years

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For Keith Imagine them getting into a really bad argument, so bad it's near a break up. But they don't discuss it further because they have a mission next And his SO dies in that mission, either by saving someone or by being reckless. Bonus He finds a letter later where they actually apologized but never gave it to him

….damn such angst… I love it! Not sure if you wanted a scenario or some headcanons so I’m just gonna write some headcanons if that’s alright haha It’s much easier on me. So sorry it took me so long to get to your request!

Keith:

The last thing he ever wants to do with his S/O is get into a fight with them but every couple fights

It’s been said time and time again that Keith is hot headed and he tends to snap when he’s yelling, especially at Lance

So really the last thing he’d ever want to do is yell at his S/O and have it result into a really bad fight

But one day, him and his S/O broke out into an argument on whether or not his S/O should go on a particular solo mission that was quite dangerous

Keith was quick to voice his objects, volunteering that he go instead rather than his S/O

But his S/O wouldn’t back down, telling Keith that they can handle themselves out there and that he doesn’t need to protect them

Keith is extremely protective over his S/O and will do anything to keep them out of harms way

So imagine his frustration when his S/O told him that they don’t him protecting them

He just snaps, telling them that of course they need him because every mission is dangerous and his S/O doesn’t know what they are up against

Keith didn’t mean it as an insult but it sort of came out as one and the room fell dead silent

“Wow, thanks for the vote of confidence in me Keith. And here I thought you believed in me but I guess I wrong. Maybe we’re better off without each other.” His S/O says before they leave the room

Keith is both hurt and angered by his S/O’s last words

Of course he believed in them! He really hadn’t meant to insult them and he really didn’t know what to do

So Shiro pulls Keith out of the room, because Shiro is really the one who can call Keith out on his stuff without getting snapped at

Shiro tells Keith that he needs to apologize because if he doesn’t, he might regret it later and lose everything the two of them had together

But Keith is still fuming and thought it might be best to calm down first before talking things out with his S/O

So he goes to train for a while, punching out his frustrations as he does his best to calm down

When he’s calm enough, he takes a deep breath and walks in the direction of his S/O’s room

He’s hesitant to knock on their door because he can’t find the right words he wants to say and he doesn’t want to accidentally offend them again

“Y/N, I love you more than anything and I don’t want us to end, not like this please. I really want to talk. Whenever you’re ready. I love you, just please know that and I know you’ll be great on the mission tomorrow.” Keith will say without knocking and turns to walk away

He said what he could but he didn’t know if his S/O was even ready to talk so he was going wait until they were but he also wanted them to know just how much he cared about them

But their chance to talk never came…

The mission came and was quite successful but it came with a heavy cost

Keith’s S/O had been helping citizens of a planet evacuate while the Paladins fought off yet another robeast

A child had fallen behind and was stuck so his S/O ran back to save the child, picking them up as the ran back towards the group of people

Yet shots from a few Galra soldiers fired in their direction, hitting them directly in the shoulder and in the leg

They screamed at the child to run as fast they could back to the group and the child did as told

One silencing shot was fired and the Paladins who had been watching every second of the evacuation fell silent as they watched their friend’s body go limp with blood pooling around their head

Keith let out such a scream that no one had ever heard before from someone

His worst fears had come true, his S/O was in fact dead from a single shot to the head

The team had finished the mission, refusing to leave the body of their friend behind

And once they returned to the Castle of Lions, no one spoke, no one cried, everyone in so much shock that their bodies refused to anything but walk and breathe

Shiro again takes a sort of lead, telling his friend that they need to sit down because this was truly the worst day of his life

But Keith just wants to sit in his S/O’s room and be alone for a while and everyone just let’s he be

Keith just stands his S/O’s dark empty room, just starring at their empty bed where he thought they should be right now

But then he remembers it, the image of it playing on a constant loop in his brain and that’s when he falls to the floor

Keith slams his fists into their bed over and over again, cursing at whatever being could hear him

It was then a small piece of lined paper falls to the floor in front of him, the paper addressed to him

So of course, Keith stops, picking up the piece of paper and begins reading it to himself

“Hey Keith, I dunno if this will ever get to you or I’ll just tell you it all up front haha, I’m sorry for what I said back on the deck. I know you meant well by wanting to protect me and I shouldn’t have acted the way I did. I took it completely out of context and shouldn’t have. I’m really sorry, truly I am. I just thought you didn’t believe in me but I’m glad I talked to Shiro and he made it clear that you meant well by what you said. So I hope we can talk tomorrow after the mission and just forget this whole thing happened. Okay? And I love you, more than anything. See you tomorrow. Love, Y/N”

Keith breaks down at this point, full of heartbreak and a deep pain that he swore it physically hurt

He let out such a wail of pain that it could be heard throughout the castle and the paladins just bowed their heads

Even Shiro who stood outside the door, had never heard his friend cry in such a way before

It was truly the worst day of Keith’s life

Sorry these headcanons aren’t very good haha Thanks for the request hun! ~Admin Mae

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