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autisticlancemcclain · 2 years

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“I’ll catch up with you, Shiro.”

Shiro turns around, raising an eyebrow. Keith isn’t even facing him, looking instead at the planet’s extensive flower fields. They’re like the Dutch tulip fields, only a million times better.

“What are you doing?” Shiro asks slowly, trying to keep his voice neutral. He knows exactly what Keith’s doing, but he desperately wants to hear the man say it.

Keith hesitates. “Um, just getting something.”

Shiro smirks, especially devilish because Keith’s not looking at him so he can get away with it. “Oh,” he starts, faux-concerned, “did you forget something? I’ll help you look!”

Keith whips back forwards Shiro, who hastily wipes the smirk off his face. Keith’s ears are red.

“No, no you can go ahead! I can get the thing on my own. Thanks, though.”

“But Keith —” alright, Shiro may be overdoing it a little — “let me help! I don’t want you to be left looking for something on your own. What’d you lose?”

Keith scowls at him. “If I tell your nosy ass what I’m trying to get, will you fuck off and never mention it again?”

Shiro drops the concerned façade, leering at him. “No. But I won’t leave you alone unless you tell me, so. Speak up, lover boy.”

Keith glares harder, and tries to kick him, but Shiro’s always had faster reflexes. He lunges forward, putting Keith in a headlock. Keith does his best to buck him off, but Galran growth spurt be damned, Shiro’s still bigger. Punk ass kid.

“Better fess up before you don’t get a chance to give your boyfriend your present,” Shiro taunts.

“You already know, apparently! Why do I need to tell you?!”

“‘Cause I want to hear you say it. I didn’t endure several years of you gagging every time I kissed Adam to miss out on you being absolutely down bad for our resident lanky dork.”

“Alright, you fucking dickhead, fine!” Keith relents. “…I want to go get a bunch of flowers for Lance. There are a bunch of yellow ones that look like dandelions, those are his favourite. And the stems get wrapped in these pretty ribbons, I found a brown one that matches Lance’s eyes exactly. And,” he sighs dreamily, despite the fact that he’s still very much in a headlock, “Hunk said my arcade first date idea was bad ‘cause Lance is gonna slaughter me. I can’t wait.”

Shiro can’t take it anymore, and bursts into laughter so severe his whole body shakes. Keith slips out of the headlock, slapping Shiro repeatedly on the back. Shiro’s too weak with giggles to stop him.

“You — you’re whipped as hell,” he wheezes.

Keith stomps his foot. “Fuck off!” he says hotly. “This is normal! It’s Lance, for fuck’s sake! He doesn’t deserve anything less!”

Shiro wheezes harder, going completely soundless. He can barely keep himself upright.

“S — so whipped, holy shit you want to straight up marry him —“

“I will leave your sorry ass here, Shiro, I swear to God —“

Shiro takes several deeps breaths, desperately trying to calm himself. Whew. This is golden.

He straightens himself up, and almost loses it again at how red Keith’s face is, but manages to keep himself in check (although barely).

Keith scowls further. “Go fuck yourself. You were just as bad as I was.”

Shiro shrugs, still smug. “Yeah, but I never gagged and said all romance was stupid and I’d never date a boy as long as I lived.”

“…Whatever, buttface. Go back to the castle so I can get my shit in peace.”

Shiro sniggers one more time, but relents, making his meandering way back home. He glances back at Keith, only to find him talking with the utmost seriousness to one of the florists. They gesture to a field, and Keith smiles, softer than Shiro has ever seen him, and sets off towards it. Shiro shakes his head, grinning.

He’s so happy for his dumbass little brother.

#this is so silly ahabajabaj #vld #voltron #shiro #takashi shirogane #keith #keith kogane #broganes #klance #keith is whipped #it’s truly embarrassing #brown-eyed lance #tall keith #gay gay gay #fluff #humour #banter #my writing #fic fragment

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honeybyte · 7 months

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🦌🐇

#ikemen prince #ikepri #ikepri emma #ikepri keith #keith howell #im so fucking whipped for this dude #and he doesnt even KNOW

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mothmanavenue · 10 months

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he left his books in my bed, and his song in my head, i’ve been undone

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googlyuwu · 2 months

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I had to like. Scramble to make this bc my dumbass started working on a completely different thing instead of making the valentine's piece that I wanted to yesterday. Anyway here you go klance nation

#googy art #PRO SHALADIN DNI #klance #keith kogane #lance mcclain #i feel like i whipped this out in like 30 mins which is insane for me normally it takes like 4 hours #voltron fanart

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cxberstar · 3 months

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it’s a tradition atp to think about klance every couple of months

#klance #voltron #lance mcclain #keith kogane #theyre so silly #and then i get to whip out the abandoned editing account

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dbblovesklance · 9 months

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No one:

Lance: omg omg oa maofmo m g?? Keith is so beautifuL?!!!? Omg?

#he's so whipped #he’s so in love #klance #keith x lance #lance mcclain #keith kogane #vld keith #vld lance #voltron #voltron legendary defender #vld #dbb drabbles

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awhoreintheory · 2 years

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Headcannon that Galra pupils are like cats (they can get all big or thin) and humans (in the sense that they dilate and get all big when they see smth they rlly like/love)

Keith, staring intensely at Lance as he goofs off with Hunk, laughing and smiling like the sun: *eyes dilating, getting all big and cute like a cat*

Shiro, with a front row view, sipping tequila with Krolia: on Earth, that expressed is called "being absolutely and totally whipped"

Krolia, nodding, sipping her tequila as well: yes, among Galra a gesture like that shows the love and affection between mates.

#klance #voltron headcanons #voltron #voltron legendary defender #vld fandom #vld shitpost #lance mcclain #lance voltron #keith voltron #keith kogane #krolia #shiro voltron #keith being whipped #keith being gay #lance being perfect #as usual

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waugh-bao · 2 years

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"What are you wearing tonight?" Keith Richards asks Charlie, who is standing in front of a rack hung with the Stones' stage clothes.

"All white with a black T-shirt, enhanced...”

"Endless conference with wardrobe about this, no doubt," Keith interjects.

Charlie grins. "Enhanced," he continues, in a mock, ultra-sophisticated tone, “by white pumps."

"You're not going for any glitter-a rhinestone here or there?" Keith teases, and then turns to me and says, "Here's a man who will take a bow with everybody on stage going berserk, the cops screaming 'Move it! Move it!' and he'll go back to his drums and move his drumsticks one millimeter to the left, because what he left behind visually displeases him. So how can you talk about a person like this?" he laughs.

“Everybody says what a charming guy Charlie is, but you never see him, he never comes to say hello. You've got to go and find him. He's moulting away in some hotel room, or hanging out in wardrobe, checking out materials.…Jesus, look at those trousers," he says, turning to Charlie, who has just stepped into a pair of immaculately tailored white pants.

"What's the matter with them?" Charlie asks.

"Nothing," Keith answers, "but who's going to see 'em? You might as well…”

"Tell him that's not the point," Charlie instructs me, as he adjusts the belt on the back of his matching white vest.

"That's not the point," I say.

But Keith has had a sudden revelation.

"Oh, now I understand the transparent bass drum head!"

Charlie gives a sheepish grin.

"I never thought of that," he says.

"Right," Keith says, roaring with laughter.

“It's so they can see your footwear and the Savile Row tailoring on your turn-ups. You never thought of it! Did you see the way he was almost convincing when he said that?" Keith asks me.

“You should have an Oscar," he laughs, addressing Charlie again. "You should have had one years ago."

Keith gets up and heads for the door.

"You've learned more about Charlie Watts in the last five minutes than you'd ever learn from asking questions," he tells me.

"I've just learned something about the right bastard myself," he adds, giving Charlie a hug.

(Interview with Modern Drummer, Feb. 1990)

#give the guy who wrote this a Pulitzer #it’s genuinely one of (if not the) most charming interview I’ve ever seen with him #[him being Charlie]#in no small part because Keith is basically in 50% of it #but beyond that #can we count all the ways this is absurd and wonderful?#the reparte between Keith and Charlie #Charlie just casually whipping off his trousers in front of this random reporter and Keith #and then Keith suggesting Charlie just wear no trousers at all #Keith’s conspiracy theory that Charlie uses a transparent bass drum head so people can see his shoes #even though literally the only person who looks at that head is Keith himself #oh yeah and the fact that it ends with a hug #i think I died of sheer joy about 15 words into this #and I’ll never recover #the rolling stones #charlie watts #keith richards #old married band #interview #quote #modern drummer

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asingleietsist · 11 months

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Not Bowuigi related

Say hello to Benny

Ok now look at this very much partially rendered thumbnail I'm making.

Confused yet?

Me neither :D

#why dont you get it #understand #bowser #illustration #art wip #current wip #whip whip nae nae #luigi #vld keith #vld lance #lance mcclain #keith kogane #sleep is for the tired #thats me

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kickis-conan-king · 1 year

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Keith was resigned.

It wasn’t a bad thing but it was becoming an increasingly inconvenient thing. Keith kind of liked it- he’d never had a crush on someone like this before and it felt like the first normal, age appropriate milestone he had had. However, he knew it was something he had to get rid of. It was way too distracting, and he had to focus.

Focus, Keith.

He breathed out slowly through his nose and tried to ignore the devastating way that Lance was taking out training droids. He did not watch the way Lance’s shirt rippled over his stomach as he raised his rifle, did not follow the trace of Lance’s tongue as he licked sweat off his upper lip, and absolutely did not feel his stomach swoop as Lance dropped seven droids in a matter of moments.

“...and then that should be it. What do you think, Keith?” Shiro asked, turning to Keith from where he had been talking to him for the last couple minutes. “Sound like a plan?”

Keith startled and tried to remember what Shiro had been saying.

“Uh, well…” Keith licked his lips to try to bring some moisture into his dry mouth. “Yes?”

Shiro’s face dropped. “You weren’t listening at all.”

“Unfortunately.” Keith said with an apologetic grimace.

Shiro sighed. “Whatever. I just wanted your input on some of the hand to hand combat drills I have planned but if you're too busy..”

Shiro’s tone was one Keith knew all too well. It was dry as an aged white wine.

Keith rolled his eyes.

“As if you really need my input.”

Shiro nodded amicably. “True. I don’t need it.” He chuckled as Keith frowned, then continued.”But I do want it. You have a natural ability for hand to hand and can often see something where I can’t. Speaking of which..”

Shiro leaned in conspiratorially, a twinkle of knowing that Keith disliked in his eye. “What were you staring at?”

Keith sputtered and felt his face go red. His eyes slid away from Shiro’s just to land back on Lance, where he was smiling a goofy, triumphant grin and prancing in front of Pidge and Hunk.

“No one!” Keith said, too quick. Shiro was smarter than that, and Keith wanted to slap his palm over his face as soon as the words left his mouth.

“I didn’t ask whooo.” Shiro sang teasingly.

“Please drop it, Shiro.” Keith was just going to look at the ceiling. He swallowed. His face was burning and his hands were suddenly wet with sweat.

“Okay, sure thing, kiddo.” Shiro nodded. “Dropping it.”

Then, with the kind of dangerous smile that has only ever been worn by a sibling up to no good, Shiro turned away. He stood a little straighter, suddenly a commander again, and barked out words that made Keith’s heart simultaneously rise into his throat and drop to his knees.

“Pair up everyone! Lance, you’re with Keith. Pidge, with Allura. Hunk you’re with me. Hand to Hand. We are going to practice grappling. The first one pinned for a 3 count is a rotten egg.”

Keith groaned. Shiro turned around and sent him a sly wink.

“I hate you.” Keith hissed at him.

Shiro couldn’t respond because Lance was already bounding over to Keith. He stopped in front of Keith with an open- mouthed grin, an eyebrow raised mockingly. He bounced from one foot to another like an MMA fighter before a match.

“Oh, I am sooo kicking your ass on this one, mullet head.” Lance rolled his shoulders, sure and cocky.

Damn, Keith liked him so much.

“Alright, yeah.” Keith matched his energy, feeling himself get drawn into the familiar back and forth. “Go ahead and give it a try, string bean.”

Just like Keith knew he would, Lance squawked in affront at the offense to his appearance.

“Okay now you’re really gonna get it.” Lance said, his smile bouncing away on his face even as he raised his fists to punch the air in front of Keith.

“I’m shaking in my boots.” Keith sneered back.

"You're underestimating me, Keithy baby." Lance's grin was sharp and Keith's guts were thrilling over the use of 'baby'. "But I'm a middle child and you don't know the meaning of 'grapple' until you've been fighting for your life between an 11 year old and a 17 year old trying to claim the tv remote."

Keith scoffed just for the delight of doing so. His ears were burning. He was enjoying this too much. He felt like everyone could see it if they looked at him. He felt simultaneously embarrassed and self satisfied. He tried to keep it off of his face, but looking into Lance's challenging, sparking eyes, Keith could feel his own grin tugging his mouth into something fanged and thirsty.

He pushed Lance's shoulders. "Grapple me then, tough guy."

Lance's eyebrow quirked and an exciting spike of fear raised Keith's blood. Was Lance picking up what he was putting down?

"Ready for me?" Lance said, advancing a step and raising his arms.

"Always am." Keith said proudly, and then the two of them were clashing.

Of course Shiro would make them grapple. What better way to torture Keith in a way he can't protest against? Curse his observant bastard brother.

Lance's arms were strong and tan. Watching Lance's forearms flex while trying to keep Keith in a hold was making him warmer than the actual exercise.

Lance wasn't kidding about being good at grappling, either. His limbs were long and he was flexible and he was strong. It was one thing to know Lance was strong- Keith obviously knew he was, they were soldiers for Christ's sake- but it was a completely different thing to experience it. Keith was getting manhandled and he tried not to find it hot.

Keith dug in his heels to give as good as he got. He bucked and evaded and twisted his body out of Lance's grasp. The problem was that their bodies always remained close, heat trapped between them, sweat making their skin slick. Keith could feel Lance's heartbeat pounding against his back as Lance held him in a headlock. Keith tried to arc his body away, but he just ended up curving his spine so that his hips aligned snugly with Lance's. Lance grunted softly against Keith's ear and Keith panicked.

Keith's butt was practically rubbing against Lance's crotch. Keith could almost feel it. His body flushed with a mixture of embarrassment and desire. He needed to get out of this position, now, before his body reacted in a way he would regret. He was already in a heightened state from all the closeness and panting and fighting-not-fighting.

Keith thrashed a little desperately, his face heating. Lance's arms were so firm around him he barely had the space to maneuver, but he managed to toss back his head and with a sickening crack! the back of his skull met Lance's nose.

Lance staggered back and fell, holding a hand to his face. Keith wheeled around and dropped to his knees next to him, watching blood well up between his fingers.

"Shit, Lance." Keith said, forgetting about the match and his own embarrassment. He reached his hands out. "Are you alright?"

Lance levelled him with a glare. Their faces were so close that Keith could see the flecks of brown, like amber islands, that dotted Lance's ocean irises.

Keith got lost in them.

Then, lightning quick, Lance tackled him. He straddled Keith so he was pressed between the cool metal of the training room floor and the fever-heat of another body. His hands were pinned above his head and he could feel Lance's blood around his wrist, slippery and warm, from where it had puddled in Lance's palm. Above him, Lance's nose was dripping, streaking his lips and his chin bright red.

He was still smiling.

"One…" Lance whispered. Keith felt a speckling of blood spray off his lips and land on his cheeks as Lance spoke.

Keith gave a feeble attempt at kicking out. Lance leaned all his weight on him. Keith felt completely compromised. He fit perfectly between Lance's thighs, and Lance wasn't letting gravity do the work of holding him down- he was pressing forward into Keith with the kind of single mindedness that came out in him during battle.

"Two…" He sang, opening his mouth so Keith could almost see his back teeth.

Keith tried writhing away, his fight-or-flight triggered by the intensity of the moment. Lance was far too close. Keith's heart was pounding. He was aroused and agitated all in one and he wanted to bite Lance and kiss him and laugh and scream.

"Three!" Lance crowed, victorious. Lance sat back so all his weight was put on Keith's pelvis. He crossed his arms and chanted mockingly. "You're a rotten egg, you're a rotten egg!"

"Lance!" Keith shouted. "That wasn't fair!"

"Why not?" Lance pouted. "You're the one who hurt me!"

Keith groaned because what could he say? Sorry, Lance, foul play due to being too goddamn sexy? Lance would literally incinerate him on the spot and never let him live it down.

So instead Keith just seethed on the ground in a puddle of his own shame, waiting for everyone else to go. Eventually Shiro came to pull him to his feet. He held out a hand.

"Okay, I admit." Shiro said sympathetically. " I wasn't expecting you to be that gay. Sorry, Keith."

Keith just moaned in dismay and let his brother pull him to his feet.

#literally just something I had started in my drafts #100% sure this was going to be a 5+1 fic #but i don’t remember #where I was going with it #klance #whipped Keith #badass Lance #this is literally just a Drabble if Keith being thirsty #keith kogane #lance mcclain #Shiro also just being like. haha gay boy.#my fic

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thek1ngtalks · 5 months

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Lance and Allura co-host one of the most popular radio shows in America, VOLTRON.

Keith is Lance's childhood friend. He also spends every morning requesting "Sexy Back" by Justin Timberlake, purely so Lance can enjoy his favourite song every morning.

#k1ng talks #k1ng desperately wishes they had free time to write this #vld #voltron #lance mcclain #keith kogane #allura #voltron is Allura's family buisness and she wanted in #lance just happened into the job by rolling a nat 20 on charisma #because he walked into someone else's interview #keith likes making sure lance is doing okay and maybe also likes Alluras taste in music #he has however continued requesting sexy back purely because lance gets delighted #boyyo is so whipped #lance has no clue and is just strolling through life without a single care #AND THEN THEY FALL IN LOVE #why “sexy back”? because Jeremy Shada (Lance's VA) confirmed it as Lance's favorite song during a comic con in 2018 ig

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autisticlancemcclain · 5 months

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this is how it started

———

This is how it continues: Keith holds his hand all the way to breakfast.

In itself not incriminating. Lance holds Hunk’s hand all the time. He’s always got an arm around Pidge’s shoulder. Shiro is amused by Lance’s incessant attempts to have them skip about with their arms linked. Sometimes he offers his arm to Allura with the poshest expression he can muster, just to make her laugh. Not all of his attempts are entertained by his friends, of course, but there’s nothing novel about Lance attaching himself to people as they move about.

Keith reaching out, as they walk out of the bedroom they just shared, and linking their hands together easy as pie is, however, novel.

Everything is so bizarre. It’s worsened, really, after a night of decent sleep (in a real genuine mattress!), because it’s just not what Keith and Lance…do. They race each other to doorways, yanking on hoods or sticking out legs to trip and get ahead. They escalate from light shoving to full on wrestling in the middle of conversations. Keith is not exempt from Lance’s constant need to touch, sure, but it’s never — like this. Light, easy, comfortable, familiar.

(It was, briefly, at the end. When on their way to meetings and briefings and missions even Keith’s hand would rest on the small of Lance’s back. Absentmindedly. Unnoticeable. But a he left a week after it started, and as far as he’s concerned anything started in that era has long since been left behind them.)

They’re late — the rest of the team has already gathered. Pidge and Allura are half asleep on either of Shiro’s shoulders, and Coran and Hunk are arguing intensely but playfully about a pile of unrecognisable goo that Lance has learned to recognise as the space version of oatmeal. Hunk pokes it in disgust. Coran feigns outrage.

All five faces turn to them as they approach, and Lance can’t place a single one of their expressions. He is made suddenly aware that he has loosened his grip on Keith’s hand when he feels him squeeze three times, quickly in succession.

“…Huh,” Shiro says after a moment, eyes trained on their clasped fingers. His face is carefully blank. No one else offers any commentary.

“How’d y’all sleep,” Keith asks, pulling out a chair. Lance realizes after a beat that it’s meant for him, and he flushes up to his ears. He tugs his hood over his head and nearly upends the table in his haste to melt into the offered chair. Keith, in contrast, sits down next to him and rests an arm over the back of Lance’s chair so smoothly it has to be practiced.

Pidge makes a choking noise, cheeks puffed up like she barely managed to keep her mouth shut. Hunk has both hands clapped over his mouth.

“Shut the fuck up,” Lance hisses, face redder than his lion.

Keith’s fingers brush his shoulder. He sinks further into his chair and tugs his hood down lower.

“I slept exceptionally,” Allura says loudly. The look she cuts Lance’s way is straight-up evil, and Lance knows what’s coming, and for several agonizing seconds he considers grabbing the spoon from the goo bowl and stabbing it straight through his eye. “The beds were very comfortable, didn’t you find, Keith?”

You are so dead to me, Lance thinks at her. He even thinks i’m in Altean so the fury can reach her properly.

“Yeah.” Keith leans over to press a kiss to his cheek. Lance’s face gets exponentially redder, and the peanut gallery starts screeching quietly, but despite himself he — leans. Into it. And Keith notices, because his mouth curves into a smile, and he presses another kiss to the curve of Lance’s jaw before pulling away. “Slept right for the first time in two years.”

“Oh, I’ve been meaning to ask you about that,” Shiro says, reminding Lance once again that he is, in fact, Lance’s hero, actually, last few months notwithstanding. He shoots Lance a fond, teasing smile, then turns back to Keith. “My question is: what the fuck?”

“Seconded,” Pidge agrees through a mouthful of goo.

Hunk grimaces at her. She shoves three more bites of goo into her mouth then opens her mouth and sticks out her tongue at the yellow paladin, just to be disgusting. With a scandalized “gross, Pidge!” Hunk shoves chair away and marches to the other side of the table, leaving Pidge sniggering.

Keith watches the whole thing with a smile on his face soaked in so much sadness Lance’s chest physically aches with it. He darts out a hand and wraps it around Keith’s, squeezing it in a mirror of the way he did before. Keith smiles gratefully at him, pulling up his hand and kissing the back of it. Somewhere, Lance hears someone mutter: “Christ alive.”

“There was a — shipwreck, of sorts,” Keith explains eventually. His voice is soft. “Krolia and I flew too close to something. Our intel was outdated. When we finally made it out of the wreckage we were stranded on the back of a space whale, and time was…stretchy.”

“That explains so very little,” Shiro says, shaking his head. He stabs his spoon in some goo. “Space has done little but piss me off in the last couple years, if I’m being honest. Keith, I swear to God I’m going to ground you.”

Keith grins. “Fat chance, old man. I outrank you now.”

“That’s what you think.”

Lance watches them both critically as they argue. Well, ‘argue’. They’re both grinning too hard for any real animosity. And exhaustion still lines Shiro’s features, and he still leans onto Allura for support, but there’s a brightness in his eyes that’s been missing for months. And Keith is —

Keith is here, leaping to his feet, spoon of goo bared dramatically, and he is tired too but he is warm and soft, somehow, and the weight that Lance has always watched on his shoulders seems to have lifted. There is an easiness to him now that there wasn’t before. And Lance notices and cannot stop noticing, because he is beautiful, and because for some reason he has decided to plant himself next to Lance, closer than before, and bleed his warmth. And Lance is supposed to be the lighthearted one and the joking one and the easy one. That is his role. That is what he knows how to play.

But he’s been struggling. And the role has not come easy. And last night he had cried until he slept in Keith’s arms and Keith had held him and checked the room and kissed his hair and has yet to let go of him.

Lance looks at Keith and thinks to himself: maybe just this one thing.

Keith reaches half over the table and musses his brother’s hair, pushing him back into Allura’s careful hold and sitting heavily back in his own seat. He frowns, staring at the space that has grown between his chair and Lance’s during his roughhousing. Slowly, he reaches over and grabs the bottom rung of Lance’s chair, dragging him over until the space between them has disappeared, then he nods once to himself, satisfied, and throws an arm around Lance’s shoulders, pulling him even closer.

And Lance thinks to himself: oh, God.

For a moment Lance is tense. He feels the stares of the rest of the team, teasing and interrogating all at once. He can already anticipate their questions, probably on par with his own.

Keith rests his cheek on top of Lance’s head.

“You good?”

Suddenly, none of that seems to matter. He thinks to himself: I need to sit him down and ask what the hell is going on.

Keith’s thumb starts to gently brush back and forth on the cusp of his shoulder.

He says: “I am now.”

This is how he lets it continue.

———

this is how it ends

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