#keith stage whispering: did we forget to tell him

[discordiansamba]

realizing that the best shot Allura has at fixing the paladins in the identity crisis AU is to go to Oriande and master the art of Altean alchemy. Which is great news for the paladins! Finally! Yeah, sure, they were kind of getting used to it, but that was just because they kind of had to, not because they wanted to.

but also.

they uh.

forgot to tell Lotor. about this little detail about themselves.

#identity crisis au #allura: besides. If I got to Oriande I may finally be able to help you all with your... predicament #lotor: pardon me for asking but.. what predicament? #(everyone looks at lotor) #keith stage whispering: did we forget to tell him #pidge: uh. whoops?

[damnlance]

Number 3 for the klnace prompts please 🥺

Klangst Prompt #3:

“Can you please just.. hold me..?”

Summary: Lance has been having a hard time accepting his altean marks. Luckily, Keith arrives and is there to help him.

-

It’s been two years. two whole years since the war ended and the paladins made it back home to earth. two whole years since their lions took off in the middle of the night and never came back. and two whole years since Allura..

Since Allura died sacrificed herself to save the universe.

It would be an understatement to say that everyone came back home fine, because that was not the case. Coming back home meant bringing along nightmares that kept you up all night, unwanted, out-of-the-blue flashbacks in the middle of the day, jumping out of your skin at any sound louder than a whisper, and much more. So, so much more.

For Lance, coming back home meant he could be with his family again, but leaving Allura behind was never part of the plan.

And Lance is reminded of her every single time he looks into the mirror.

It’s a blessing and a curse. A blessing because at least he has a little part of her that he can see and touch and feel. But a curse because the part of her that he can see and touch and feel.. isn’t her.

He’s gotten used to his Altean markings since Allura gave them to him but even after two years, it’s still hard. Sometimes he goes an entire day without noticing them, forgetting they’re even there on his cheeks. But one tiny hint of emotion and boom.

They’re glowing.

Most of the time it's just a dim glow, a grayish light blue that’s only visible from his peripheral view. But on certain occasions, when he’s really up in his head and he can’t come down, they’re bright. They’re bright and buzzing and loud and blinding right there on his face for the entire world to see.

It’s rare, though.

And in the few times that it's happened, Lance always has the same feeling deep down in the trenches of his gut, with the same question burning in the back of his mind.

“Why me?”

For the longest time after the war, he shut everyone out. He hated being the center of attention, hated having all eyes on him, everyone looking at him like he was some fragile vase and if you said one thing that might trigger him, he’d break into a thousand pieces. He especially hated when his friends and family stopped looking him in the eyes when they spoke to him, their eyes glued to his markings which had them apologizing right after when he caught them, pushing him to continue with whatever he was saying.

It was too much..

He stopped going out in public or where there were people, and eventually locked himself in his room at all times. But he knew that that was a bad thing to do. Because it was just him all alone. Him and his markings. And that always made the thoughts in his mind and the feelings in the gut of his stomach come back to the surface of his health and spin him completely out of control.

Lance felt like he was on autopilot. He tried everything to cover his markings; hats, sunglasses, makeup, even stickers from his niece and nephew’s sticker books. It still did nothing to hide the fact that they were actually there.

And when times got drastic, he tried to take them off of his face. Literally.

When his family began to notice his distant behavior, they didn’t question it or push him to talk. They could never know what he went through in space, or how deeply he cared for Allura. But one family member in particular was really worried.

Veronica. She could read him like the back of her hand and when the other members of his family were too scared to confront the former Paladin, not knowing how he would react, Veronica stepped up to the plate.

She tried her best to be subtle and at first it worked. Her checking on him by helping him around the farm instead of being at work on the Atlas, tending to his every need when he asked, even guilt tripping him to going out to the store only to conveniently run into Hunk or Pidge or Shiro. And Lance knew all her little games of course, he just.. didn’t care.

So Veronica decided to call a distant friend.

That distant friend being the one person who knows Lance almost as well as she does.

The one and only Keith Kogane.

She called him in confidence and they talked a couple of times here and there. About the universe, his job with The Blade, and importantly, about Lance and his well-being. And it’s not like Veronica didn’t try to contact any of Lance’s other friends like Hunk, Pidge, or Shiro. She did. And he found out when they took him out for bowling and laser tag and he overheard them talking about it.

Yeah, let’s just say his marks were really glowing that night he confronted her about meddling in his life again.

But Keith was different. He was special. Veronica knew how strongly Lance felt about him and after a couple of different attempts to get Lance out of his room, or to talk about what was going on, she had no choice but to bring in the big guns.

Aka Keith.

It wasn’t easy, begging asking Keith to fly back to earth and take some time away from working with The Blade to comfort his sad friend who he hasn’t seen or talked to in months. But who else could get inside of Lance’s head like Keith?

So they made a plan. Keith would arrive back on Earth in two weeks on the Saturday before the McClain family dinner they have every Sunday night. And to make sure things wouldn't be too weird or staged, Veronica would also invite Hunk, Shiro and Curtis, and Pidge and Matt as well. It would be great for everyone to be together again anyway.

Saturday Evening.

The day was winding down to something calm and peaceful. Lance decided to get up and spend his day tending to the farm. He cleaned out the barn, fed the chickens, gathered some eggs, milked Kaltenecker and even gave her a nice bath. His family was gone, out for the day running errands, and the quiet wasn’t too loud or suffocating for once. It was surprisingly nice. After the chores were finished, Lance plucked some fresh juniberry flowers for the vase in his room and headed back up the hill to his home.

What he was expecting to see is maybe his family’s truck parked over by the big oak tree just outside his house.

But what he got instead, was a cruiser.

A galra cruiser.

And leaning against said galra cruiser with his arms crossed and a warm smile on his face is the one and only Keith Kogane.

Lance stops breathing as he stares at his old friend. He can’t believe Keith is even here right now, standing 50 feet away. Is this some kind of trick of the sunset? Lance rubs his eyes. Nope. It’s real. A small smile graces Lance’s lips as he takes a deep breath and makes his way over.

As he gets closer, Keith pushes himself off of the cruiser to meet Lance halfway. “Hey there, sharpshooter,” are the first words out of his mouth, his deep voice sending a chill down Lance’s spine.

“K-Keith,” Lance sputters, confusion and excitement pouring through his voice. They’re bodies meet together in a big, warm hug that has the hairs on Lance’s arms standing on end. Keith hugs him like he hasn’t seen him in a long time. And he hasn't. It’s been six and a half months since they last saw each other, or even spoke. Things with The Blade have been so busy that Keith rarely gets a chance to stop by to say hello or even stay a few nights. Of course, communication works both ways and Lance has spoken to him. He’s written Keith a letter for every other day. Yep. They’re all underneath his pillow in his room, ready to be opened and read by Keith eyes. That’s besides the point, he just can’t believe that Keith is HERE!

Lance pulls away, confusion still plastered on his face. Keith pats his shoulder and smiles that genuine, beautiful, once in a full moon smile that has Lance’s heart hammering inside his chest.

“Surprised?” Keith asks, folding his arms over his chest.

Lance reaches out and punches the half galran in his left pec, sending him stumbling back a bit. “Hell yeah I am, dude! W-what are you doing here!?”

“What,” Keith’s smile doesn’t falter as he shrugs. “Can’t a guy come back to earth to see his friends once in a while?”

Lance scoffs. “Uh, once in a while would be like every other week, not six and a half months!”

Keith’s eyes widen. “Shit, has it been that long??”

“Yeah, man.” Lance nods, rubbing the back of his neck. “I mean, I would know.. been subconsciously counting down the days or.. w-whatever..” A light blush decorates his cheeks and ears as Keith continues to stare at him. Then, he smiles again and weakly punches Lance’s arm. Lance takes a good look at him; tall, muscular, visible stubble decorating his chin and upper lip, dark hair pulled back into a messy ponytail that reaches his shoulder blades. He looks.. good.

“Why don’t we catch up then?” Keith asks with a softness in his voice that has Lance’s already hammering heart going haywire.

“S-sure thing.” Lance can barely meet Keith’s violet eyes as they begin their ascend up the hill to Lance’s home.

They talk on the porch swing until the sun goes down and the bright stars in the sky come up. Keith tells Lance all about how he and The Blade are doing amazing at fulfilling their mission as a humanitarian relief organization and all the planets they’ve helped. Lance listens thoroughly as Keith goes on and on, something about the way Keith’s eyes shine as he talks about his adventures up in space with his mother and Kolivan. It’s almost enough to lull Lance to sleep but he wouldn’t dare miss a second of Keith’s stories. After a while, Lance offers Keith some sandwiches and a few beers, to which he happily accepts, and they eat together in a nice comfortable silence.

“So,” Keith says after a small sip of his beer, “Enough about me. What’s been going on with you?”

Lance picks at his half eaten sandwich and shrugs. “Nothing as amazing as what you’re doing, that’s for sure.”

“Ah, come on,” Keith nudges him gently, “Tell me all about what’s been going on around here? The juniberry’s are looking nice.” He gestures to the open field and Lance exhales a small chuckle.

“Thanks.. I mean, I’ve been.. a-alright..”

Keith studies his face with a slight frown but doesn’t move to say anything as he senses Lance isn’t finished.

“But..” Lance lets out a sigh and rubs the back of his neck. A cool night breeze runs through his hair and he shivers a bit before turning his body to Keith.

“Yeah?” Keith answers, mirroring Lance’s body language.

“It’s been..” Lance stares at his sandwich, “Hard. Still.. like everywhere I look, I expect her to be there but.. she isn’t.. and I feel so..”

Keith watches as Lance sits there, looking down at his hands. He clenches them into fists and then..

He laughs.

A shaky, breathy laugh that has Keith confused as to what is funny.

Lance sniffs and then looks up to meet Keith’s eyes, shaking his head.

“I’m good, man.” He says instead. But the wavering in his voice says otherwise. Keith bites his bottom lip and tries to think of a way to say what he wants without it coming out as something that could push Lance away. Then he remembers all of the stuff Veronica told him about Lance’s health and mental state. Keith does a once over to really look at Lance this time, under the dim porch light. He looks like how Veronica says he might be feeling. Sad. Tired. Lonely. Although he does look good, the chores and things needed to be done around the farm toning up his physique, Keith finally sees the wear and tear the after effects of war has put him through. And it’s not much different than how Keith looks. Or Shiro. Or Hunk or Pidge and even Matt and Coran.

Keith ponders this for a while and then lets out a small breath. “Lance?” He says, voice soft and full of compassion.

Lance looks up and meets him, his hard gaze searching for something in Keith’s irises. Keith smiles shyly and reaches out to grab a hold of Lance’s slender hands. Lance looks down at their hands, studying their similarities and their differences. Keith’s got giant hands that are paler in comparison, but just as callous as Lance’s. They bring him a weird sense of comfort and as he looks up to meet Keith’s eyes once more, tears fill his own.

Panic rises in Keith’s features and he holds Lance’s hands tighter. “Hey, hey,” he says, “W-What's wrong??”

“Nothing, nothing,” Lance shakes his head, exhaling another laugh. “It’s just..” He sniffs, trying his hardest to blink away his tears. “You.”

“Me??” Keith shakes his head. “What did I-”

“You being here,” Lance cuts him off, looking up to stare into Keith’s eyes. “I’m really happy.. happiest I’ve been in a while.. I know that things got super busy and we have our own lives now, but I’m sorry that we kinda.. fell off. I’ve missed you. I do.. miss you.”

Keith’s pulse jumps as his ears eat Lance’s words, syllable by syllable. Those watery blue eyes are boring into Keith so hard, Keith feels like he could sink into them and would be totally okay with it. So he reaches forward and cups Lance’s cheek, moving closer to his face. He presses his forehead to Lance’s and very quietly breathes-

“I’ve missed you too, Lance,” He smiles, “So much. I think of you everyday and the one thing that keeps me going is you.”

“What, little ole’ me?” Lance says in a horrible southern accent that has the both of them giggling. Keith nods and rubs his thumb over Lance’s Altean mark.

“All of you,” Keith whispers, leaning forward to place a small, chaste kiss to Lance’s mark. It has Lance blushing like crazy and his Altean markings glowing bright between them. His emotions get the better of him and he lets his tears fall down his cheeks as he nuzzles his forehead against Keith’s, swallowing a sob threatening to pour out of his throat.

“Can you please just.. hold me..?” Lance asks, watery eyes locked with Keith’s.

And Keith damn near melts. “Of course.” He answers as Lance moves closer to his opened arms. He lays his head on Keith’s shoulder, slotting it perfectly in the junction of where Keith’s shoulder and neck meet, and sighs blissfully.

“I’m so tired.” He whispers.

“Sleep, Lance,” Keith whispers back, kissing his head. “Sleep.”

Lance nods, closing his eyes. “Guess this means you’re staying for dinner tomorrow night?”

“Don’t forget breakfast and lunch, too,” Keith says, leaning over to place a chaste kiss on Lance's temple. “If you’ll have me.”

“I would love that.” And when Lance finally drifts off to a peaceful sleep, his eyes catch sight of the light that bounces off of his cheeks. It’ll take a while but for tonight, he doesn’t mind the bright, buzzing, tingling feeling of his Altean markings. Not anymore.

-END-

(send me a klangst prompt!)

#klance #lance mcclain #lance (voltron) #keith kogane #keith (voltron) #lance and keith #keith/lance #raes klangst prompts #klangst prompts #klangst prompt 3 #klangst #langst #angst #writing #hurt and comfort #damnlance #raeasks #damnlancewrites

[rosyfingereddawnn]

That’s The Way (Chapter 3)

Pairing: Jimmy Page x Reader

Word count: 3.7k

Warning(s): smut/nsfw, cheating, cursing, angst, Y/N being a badass :)

Author’s notes: We’ll be honest...this chapter is a lot to handle 😂 which is amazing since it’s only Chapter 3 of many! We suggest taking a break throughout, because you’re gonna need it 😂 So much happens that your mind may actually explode from the drama. By the way, Jimmy is introduced in the next chapter so yay! As usual, please enjoy, happy reading, and send us messages if you have theories, comments, music recommendations for the playlist, or if you want to be added to the tag list :)

Chapters: 1 | 2

————

Paul took Y/N out to dinner that week, and they had a wonderful time together. It seemed that every conversation they had together brought them closer and closer, and Y/N was in pure bliss. From that point forward, the two became inseparable.

Y/N’s parents, however, were not super pleased that Y/N was seeing Paul, especially because they had warned her about the romantically-unattached musician’s mannerisms and habits not that long ago. They just decided to act like they liked Paul, so he wouldn’t get suspicious or feel bad.

Two members of The Yardbirds in particular (and I’m sure, dear reader, that you know who they are by now) were hit with pangs of jealousy whenever they saw Y/N constantly attached to Paul’s arm. And, to make matters worse, it was under any circumstance imaginable: parties, interviews, photoshoots, meetings, airports, train stations, hotels...the list goes on. Yes, they did spend plenty of time apart, but attraction can make a man think irrationally. Even though they were specifically and strictly told to keep their mouths shut, it was very tempting to just say the truth and end their misery. A part of Chris and Jim felt happy to see her happy, but another, traitorous side of them felt exponentially bad for her. They knew that she was being used by Paul as arm-candy, and they knew that she, of all people, did not deserve that.

But that’s the name of the game, unfortunately.

~~~~~~~~

18 February 1966

The Yardbirds were scheduled to perform on an episode of Ready, Steady, Go! that night, and Y/N decided to go and be a part of the live audience. She felt an obligation to support Paul and the band, since they were all friends (and a boyfriend, of course) now.

Before the show, Jim, Jeff, and Keith were all sitting on the stage, discussing the logistics of the rehearsals that would start soon. Y/N stood in front of the already-prepared stage and chatted with them.

“So what are you guys going to do on our days off next week?” Jeff asked.

“Spend time with my family,” Keith replied, adjusting his sunglasses.

“Not sure yet, haven’t figured it out,” Jim added.

“How ‘bout you, Miss Y/N?” Jeff nodded towards her with a smile. She answered with a soft giggle.

“I’m probably going golfing with my brother and a couple mates.”

“You golf?” Jim asked. She seemed to be getting more and more perfect by the day.

“Mmhmm,” Y/N nodded enthusiastically, “I’m bloody awful at it, but it’s fun, and I can hang out with my brother, so it’s a win-win.”

“You never told us you had siblings,” Keith smirked, tilting to the side and crossing his arms.

“Oh yeah, I have three. There’s Tommy, my older brother; Charlie, my younger brother; and Lillian, my little sister,” Y/N said.

“Wow, full house,” Jeff remarked, “I have a sister, Annetta, who I think you’d get along with quite well. I’ll have to introduce you to her soon.”

“Oh, that’d be great! I’d love to meet another Beck,” Y/N replied playfully. Jeff just laughed and shook his head.

“It’s a shame that I can’t spend time with Paul this week. He said he was busy, but he didn’t explain why,” Y/N sighed, “whatever. It’s probably legitimate, so I don’t mind. We’ve been hanging out too much anyway.” She laughed at the last part.

“He’s probably just going home to his wife,” Jim replied, thoughtlessly.

At that instant, everyone’s eyes widened, eyebrows raised, and lips downturned into a shocked, panicked frown.

“He’s...what?” Y/N asked quietly, sounding like she was about to shatter into a thousand tiny pieces.

Y/N noticed that Keith and Jeff were glaring at Jim, who was clearly embarrassed at what he had revealed. He hid his eyes with his hand.

When Jeff finally found it in him to turn away from Jim, he deeply exhaled. He then reached out his hands to touch Y/N’s shoulders in an attempt to comfort her.

“Look, Y/N, you weren’t supposed to find out this way, and I’m so sorry we didn’t tell you sooner,” Jeff began, “but he is indeed married. I honestly don’t know why he wanted to pursue you, and I warned him against it because of how much we care about you, but he did it anyway.”

Tears streamed down Y/N’s face and her bottom lip started to quiver. “I can’t believe this,” she whispered, “he made it seem like I was the only one…that he was really in love with me...”

Jeff hated seeing his friend cry because of something he could have prevented. But, Y/N was somehow still beautiful when she cried.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” Jeff consoled gently, getting off the stage to hug her, “here, let’s take you backstage to calm you down a little.”

Y/N refused Jeff’s kind offer with a shake of the head. Through her blurry, teary-eyed vision, she just plastered on a smile, and wiped the wetness from her eyes.

“Ew,” her voice cracked, “why am I crying? That’s so gross of me, I’m so sorry. I’m definitely making you guys uncomfortable.”

The three musicians’ eyes widened at Y/N’s sudden burst of emotional strength.

“Y/N, you just found out you were Sam’s side chick, and you don’t care?” Jeff inquired, genuinely confused as to what was going on with Y/N’s emotions.

“It’s okay to be sad, love. And utterly fuming with anger. I must admit, this situation wouldn’t be as dire if it were someone else, but it’s you,” Keith added. Jim just sat in silence. He didn’t know what to say. His message destroyed Y/N’s heart and her innocence.

“I am sad, but if this ‘thing’ went on any longer, I’d probably be even more devastated. You saved me from a lot more unnecessary heartbreak, so thank you, Jim,” Y/N said. Her tone sounded completely numb.

“How are you gonna tell Sam?” Keith asked Y/N.

She exhaled deeply. “I don’t know. It wouldn’t be fair of me to lash out on him before being on national television.”

“How can you care about fairness? Don’t you realize what this man has done to you?” Jeff asked, anger interlaced in his voice.

“Yes, Jeff. I do,” Y/N replied stoically, “And I’ll be fine, really. Let’s just forget about it, okay? I’m just lucky to be here, watching you perform. What song are you playing again?” Y/N tried to change the subject, but on the inside she was in deep agony and pain. She poured all of this time and emotion and her body into this cute musician boy, just to realize she didn’t matter.

“‘Shapes of Thi—’” Keith began quietly.

Jeff cut him off. “Y/N, I seriously refuse to believe you’re okay. Please, just let me help y—” he started.

“Jeff! I’m fine! Seriously,” Y/N raised her voice a little, annoyed at the nagging.

“But you seem—” Jim began, barely perceptible.

“Oh my God, Jim, I’m fine!” Y/N shouted. “I don’t care. It’s done, it’s over.”

The three men sat in silence after Y/N’s sudden outburst of anger, which was very out of character for her. She quickly realized what she had done.

“I’m so sorry for lashing out on you guys. That was uncalled for, it’s not your fault. I’m gonna go to the loo, excuse me,” she said quickly, walking out of the scene before anyone could call after her.

~~~~~~~~

Y/N stayed in the bathroom for all of rehearsals, and she finally reemerged right before the broadcast was about to start, looking as fresh as she did when she got there. It was as if the news was never even brought to her attention.

She refused to make eye contact with Paul through the entire performance, even though it was apparent that he tried to get her attention with his eyes. Chris was just confused that she wouldn’t even dare to glance at Paul. Just a little trouble in paradise that he didn’t know about maybe?

After the show and when the band went offstage, Jeff went back into the crowd to check on Y/N and brought her backstage.

“You have to confront him,” Jeff pleaded.

“I don’t want to,” Y/N whined.

“You have to, or else he’ll bloody win! You don’t want that, and I sure as hell don’t want that for you either! He is the one at fault. You have every right to fuck him up for it.”

Jeff’s little speech gave her an impulsive boost of confidence.

“Fine. I’ll do it. Get everyone out of the room, though,” Y/N stated firmly, beginning to march down the hallway behind Jeff.

Momentarily, Jeff went into the room and rounded up Keith, Jim, and Chris, and filed them down the hallway into another room orderly.

As Y/N was about to enter the room, Jeff whispered in her ear, “Good luck, kid. Knock ‘em dead.” Y/N smiled at Jeff before entering the room and closing the door behind her.

~~~~~~~~

Paul warmly smiled at Y/N as she entered the room.

“Hello, love,” he said gently, “how did you enjoy the show?”

Y/N painted on the most genuine smile she could force. “It was...almost perfect.”

Paul’s eyebrow quirked as he smiled in a confused way. “Why almost?”

“I don’t think rehearsals went as well as I had planned,” Y/N replied smoothly.

“Why? Did something bad happen to you? You’re speaking in riddles, dear.”

“Oh, I apologize,” Y/N snickered, “it’s actually so funny that you bring up riddles, because that seemed to be the exact problem at hand.”

“What does that mean? Did someone tell you something you couldn’t figure out?” Paul chuckled, “You’re confusing me.”

“I figured out that you would be going home to your wife next week.”

All the colour from Paul’s face was drained in a millisecond, and his originally jovial expression was gone. It was as if someone punched him in the gut.

“Who...who told you?” he asked, panicked.

Y/N was taken aback. “I find out I’m your side-chick and you have the audacity to ask who told me? Not an ‘I’m so sorry that I lied to you and broke your heart, Y/N’?”

Paul huffed. “And you expect me to just keep my composure when someone of your gravity walks into the room for the first time? I really am sorry, Y/N, I truly, truly am, but—”

Y/N’s calm and quiet demeanor had left the building at that point. She was mad. Really mad.

“But what? You tell me how in love you are with me, and how I’m your one and only forever, just to realize that I didn’t matter? I’m going to be eighteen years old in March. Eighteen. What do I know about love? Nothing, absolutely nothing. And you chose to take full advantage of my emotional vulnerability.”

“But you did matter. You’re so special to me, Y/N. Don’t you understand that?”

“Don’t you understand that you have a wife? You never loved me. I was never special to you. I was just another fling. But you won’t admit it to yourself.”

“The life of a travelling musician is extremely difficult, Y/N, and you don’t get that,” Paul said severely.

“And that shouldn’t be used as an excuse. You know what? We’re done. Whatever this ‘thing’ is, is over. I wish you the best,” Y/N concluded as she walked out the door and sternly shut it.

The nightmare was over and Y/N was a free agent.

Before she could debrief about her experience with any of the other Yardbirds, Y/N left the venue, caught the first taxi home, ran up into her room, and cried herself to sleep.

~~~~~~~~

22 April 1966

Y/N found recovery time and solace in those two months without Paul. She didn’t go to any Yardbirds gigs, but she sporadically met up with Jeff, Keith, Jim, and Chris at a pub or restaurant to catch up over a meal and drinks. Chris had recently mentioned to her that they were playing in London on the 22nd, and if she felt comfortable, she could attend for free and get backstage to hang out.

Y/N said she’d have to think about it, but she’d definitely consider it.

She had realized over the course of two months that she was not truly in love with Paul. Yes, she fancied him, but she must’ve mistaken the feeling of being genuinely in love with the person for being in love with the situation. Y/N concluded that this relationship was the equivalent of living out one’s childhood dreams of a romance with their schoolgirl crush.

She decided that she was retired from dating for a long time, especially because of how this shitshow ended, but a miniscule piece of her wondered when and how she’d meet her other half.

In the afternoon on the day of the show, which was to be played at the Wimbledon Palais, Y/N made the reckless decision to take a trip down to the Yardbirds’ hotel, but not for the reason you might expect.

Y/N never got the chance to thank Jim McCarty for coming clean about Paul’s infidelity to his wife by “dating” her, and to formally apologize for ripping him at the Ready, Steady, Go! rehearsals. She felt bad for being so dismissive of him, because he was always so nice to her and apparently seemed to care more about her wellbeing than Paul ever did.

Y/N stood on the platform of the train station anxiously, meticulously scheming in her mind about what she would say to Jim to truly and genuinely express her gratitude. She thought about how the encounter would go all the way to London, and all the way on her walk to the hotel.

When she arrived at the hotel, she greeted the concierge, and took the elevator to what she believed to be the Yardbirds’ floor. She took an educated guess as to which room Jim’s would be, just by what she had seen in past times. Y/N took a deep breath before knocking on the door.

When the door opened, she realized that in her best interest, her guess was correct.

“Hi,” she greeted breathily, her fingers interlaced together in front of her timidly.

“Hi,” Jim smiled. After a short moment of awkward silence, he continued, “Um, what are you doing here? Not that it’s a bad thing, which it’s not, but…” he trailed off.

“I just wanted to tell you something that I think needed to be said in-person,” Y/N said quickly.

Jim raised his eyebrows in surprised delight. “Oh, okay.” He moved out of the way of the doorframe so Y/N could enter the room, then shut the door gently behind her. “Welcome to my humble abode,” he chuckled, “make yourself at home.”

Y/N smiled and thanked him graciously, but shyly, as she sat down at a small couch at the edge of the bed. Jim was quick to follow her actions.

Y/N took a deep breath before beginning, “I just wanted to thank you for informing me about Paul in February. I know, it’s been a really long time since then… but I’ve needed some time to myself to think and refocus and recuperate, y’know?”

Jim just laughed. “You came all the way here to thank me? That’s so nice of you. You didn’t need to do that.”

Y/N grinned. “I don’t know, I felt this obligation for some reason. And in addition, I wanted to apologize for lashing out at you as well. I was just shell-shocked, I guess, and I unfairly took it out on you and Jeff.”

“If I forgave you then, I’ll still forgive you now,” Jim smiled, “don’t sweat it. In all honesty, I was surprised at how well you took the news.”

“I just wanted to be as calm and composed as possible,” Y/N blushed, “but obviously I didn’t get very far, did I?” Jim laughed at Y/N’s little jab at herself.

“Well, you’re so quiet, at least you showed a piece of your inner self that night,” Jim teased. Y/N just beamed at him.

“You know, since I owe you, now… I guess I just need to live a little, y’know? I have this introverted shell I need to break out of someday, and I might as well start now,” Y/N offered with a chuckle. “So, with that being said, let me do something for you. Anything you want.”

“Oh no, that’s too much. You didn’t even cause me any grief,” Jim retaliated playfully, “thank you, Y/N, but I think you’re overthinking this whole situation.”

“Please,” she continued with a pleading voice, “I feel awful, and plus, if it makes you feel better, you’ll be helping me clear my conscience. Jim, I’ll do anything you want, no matter how crazy… I’ll take you jet-skiing, I’ll ride on a bike in a bikini when the temperature is below freezing, I’ll clean your kitchen… anything you want me to do, I will do.”

Jim grinned at the bizarre options Y/N gave him before contemplating her invocation for a moment. Anything, huh?

“Kiss me.”

“You said you'd do anything, no matter how crazy, yes?” Y/N didn't get a chance to finish, as Jim interrupted her with a hand at her wrist, and a flinty look in his eyes, that gazed right into hers.

“I did.”

“Well,” Jim continued, stepping ever-closer to the young woman in front of him. She looked just as beautiful as she always had, if not more. Jim was convinced she was perfect, and wanted to protect her. To treat her right, the way she deserved. “You could get on your knees, in front of me.”

Kneeling down on the carpeted floor, Y/N looked up at him through her eyelashes, and the glint in her eyes made his knees weak. She looked almost shy, and he couldn't help but send a comforting smile her way.

“Have you done this before, Y/N?”

She shook her head at this, and looked down, almost embarrassed. Jim, heart pounding in his chest in anticipation, reached out a hand to lift her head. Her eyes held trust, and a hint of nervousness, but her lips quirk up in a smile, her cheeks flushing.

“I’ll walk you through it, love.” The sound of a belt clinking to the floor reached Y/N’s ears, zipper following suit, and she couldn’t help the way she almost thrummed with anticipation. Her parents had warned her against exactly this type of thing. Musicians were, according to her parents, a fickle breed, who only wanted her for her looks and body. It hurt to think of it now, when Jim was being nothing but a gentleman to her. She wanted to break out of her shell, and maybe this was the way to do it.

Y/N looks to Jim and sees him exposed, fully hard now, and her cheeks erupt into shades of rosy pink. He was big, much bigger than she would have expected, and she smiled up at him.

“Okay, love. Open your mouth.” Y/N opened her mouth, sinking it over his tip, which elicits a strained moan, full of pleasure. His hand landed in Y/N’s hair, fingers clenching gently around the tresses. The light tug Y/N felt only spurred her on.

“That’s incredible, princess. Now, try and circle your tongue. You’re doing so well.”

Y/N did as she’s told, and it’s like a spell was put over the man. He craned his head back, neck bared, as soft whimpers fell past his lips. Growing more confident, knowing now what he liked, she let her teeth rake over him lightly, which worked more moans from him, almost breathless in his euphoria.

With a murmured “fuck,” he comes, Y/N’s name the only thing on his lips. She slowly released him from her mouth, wiping her lips with the back of her hand as she stood. Jim, leaning up against the wall, was in bliss, heaving breaths and ruffling Y/N’s hair as she approached.

“That was… you're perfect, princess. Absolutely perfect.”

Y/N laughs, smile nearly splitting her cheeks, and she pressed even closer, pressing her lips to his in a soft, content embrace. She could taste the sweat on his lips, and she couldn't help but think that she could definitely get used to this feeling.

Jim revelled in the feel of her soft lips against his, and he was struck by the thought that this is exactly where he’s supposed to be. He’s where he wants to be, beside Y/N.

————

Taglist: @blood-on-blood @reincarnated70sbaby

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

Once Bitten, Twice Stupid prt.34

Lance hummed as he drove. Picking pizza up from Sal’s was the most normal part of his day. His long day. His long, long, long day. Curtis hadn’t seen much of Garrison, so Lance had been stuck explaining how things worked in the town. Then he’d been stuck explaining who Hunk and Pidge were, followed by showing Curtis videos of their adventures in the search for ghosts. Basically it’d been a whole day of actively avoiding talking about why Curtis was there, and what was going on with his body. Now Curtis was in the back of the car, while Keith safe guarded the pizzas in the front as Lance hummed to his “dad” music, happy the day was soon to be over...

“Look, a grocery store. Is that where you normally shop?”

And there went his humming

“Yep”

“Can we check it out?”

“Not today”

“Why not? It’s open”

“And how am I going to explain you?”

“I’m a friend of Keith’s?”

Lance didn’t want to take Curtis shopping... but that wouldn’t be giving the man a chance to adapt to his surrounds. Slowing down, Lance started indicating, before turning into the closest parking space for a quick escape

“Five minutes. In and out. No talking to strangers”

Keith sighed at him, probably thinking he was a push over... which he was kind of being

“Thank you. It’s been a while since I’ve been out and able to stretch my legs. Most of my work’s been in the labs in Platt. The curse makes it hard to socialise”

“I can imagine. Keith, you coming in?”

“Someone has to watch you two”

Garrison had done what it did best. Rumours over what had happened at the pub followed Keith and Lance around like a bad smell. Turning to ask Curtis what kind of food he liked, he found he’d left him back at the DVD’s while Keith was already ahead of in the frozen section. The pair of them were worse than children. How was he supposed to shop for them if they weren’t beside him. At least Keith hadn’t seemed to notice the whispers, Lance not sure if Curtis had, of if he had normal hearing despite the curse. With one idiot distracted by frozen meals and less likely to get himself in trouble, Lance back tracked to Curtis

“See something you like?”

“I used to love wrestling... I know it’s corny and staged...”

“Then grab a few DVDs”

“It’s okay”

Lance reached out, grabbing the first wrestling DVD he found. Yeah, he didn’t get wrestling, but it wasn’t like he was buying the DVDs for him

“If you’re living at my house, it’s okay to like what you like. They’re like 5 bucks each. Grab a few. Same goes for anything you like eating, and toiletries. There’s spares in the guest bathroom, but I understand wanting your own stuff”

“I thought you didn’t like me”

Lance bit down a groan, his anti-people side had been strong

“It’s not that I don’t. I don’t know you and I don’t want to leap right into my sex life with a stranger. Plus, I don’t know what to make of you, I’ve never met someone cursed before, but I think it’d be a douche move to judge you over something you can’t control”

“I can see why Keith likes you so much”

Lance’s face burnt in a flash. Soulmates... the thing he’d kind of always wanted to believe in with all that love and stuff, now seemed to be a real thing. He didn’t think Keith was his soulmate, but he also didn’t not want to kiss him

“We’re friends”

“In the time I knew Keith, he was never one to talk as he is now. He had a tough childhood, not knowing his mother was a hunter until he was under threat. Shiro said he didn’t have the best or safest life before they joined up”

That was the kind of thing he wanted to learn from Keith. It felt like a betrayal in trust to hear it from anyone other than him

“Keith and I have talked. I told him that I want to hear about him, from him. I know you can’t help it, but maybe you can tell me less. When they leave, I probably won’t see him again. I don’t want to be more attached than I already am”

“Nonsense. Shiro and Keith are transferring to Platt. I’m quite sure he’d be keen to remain friends with you. He seems to think a little better about vampires having met you”

“It’s taken us weeks to get this close. I’m not ruining that with some notion of fate and soulmates. He’s an idiot but under that he still has a lot of trauma to work through. Now pick your movies out. We’ll be down the end of the isle when you’re ready”

With how sheltered things had seemed to be for Curtis, Lance shouldn’t have been surprised when came back with an armload of DVDs. Lance didn’t have the heart to break it to him that most of them could be streamed now. Maybe cursed people didn’t get on with technology. The toaster had gone up in flames within seconds of Curtis putting the bread in. Keith seeming broody as Curtis placed the DVDs in the cart, like a child who wasn’t getting as much attention as his “brother”

“Don’t be like that. You can get whatever you want. You probably need more underwear and socks by now. They do have some clothes here. You two go pick out anything you need, while I find us a new another new toaster. I liked the last one... and the one before that... No more roasting for the pair of you”

Keith cast a glare at Curtis

“Now look what you did. You got us both in trouble”

“I honestly don’t know how it happened”

“Well this is your fault. You haven’t even apologised”

“It was kind of hard to when you both disappeared”

“We didn’t disappear. We were talking”

Keith was getting too defensive. Lance didn’t need a repeat of last time the hunter tried to stand up for him. The pair really were like children

“That’s enough. Just go be somewhere else already. And don’t go making a scene, some of us still have to live here after the pair of you fuck off”

Keith crossed his arms, an obvious sign he was internally sulking. Curtis simply sighed

“You’re right. I am sorry about your toaster. We’ll do better”

“Thank you. Now go away”

Having wallowed, Lance restocked his favourite snacks, aware he was going to have to hide them away before everyone showed up. Curtis and Keith both obeyed his order to find underwear, Lance wondering if he should get a permanent marker to start labelling things now that there’d be 5 men in his house, though he wasn’t sure how long Curtis would staying. Hopefully not too long, their 5 minute trip had blown out of proportion, Lance having to find refuge in the back fridges when his body suddenly grew unbearably warm and the back of his underwear grew damp. He would have climbed in there if he could have, dealing with Keith was one thing, now he had two idiots under his roof and two peoples feelings to consider. Coming up behind him, Keith made him jump by poking him in the back, Lance spinning around to glare at his friend who’s face immediately fell

“Sorry. You usually notice”

“It’s not your fault. I was debating whether to climb in there or not. It’s really fucking hot all of a sudden”

“Your face is flushed... and you smell sweet. We should get out of here”

Shit he’d been too busy indulging Curtis that the bat thing slipped from the front of his mind. Turning into a bat would be disastrous

“Crap... Here, take my wallet. The pin’s 1470. I’ll wait in the car. Just pay for everything”

“Lance, you don’t need to panic”

“I do if I suddenly turn into a bat. I should have said no...”

Keith’s face softened, his expression changing to one of caring, which Lance couldn’t handle right now

“No. It’s okay. I’ll handle this. Don’t eat all the pizza without me”

Thank god Keith was coping with him being dramatic. He was so goddamn stupid. What if he’d turned? What if he’d fallen right in there with yoghurt and was forced to live the rest of his life as a bat to escape the shame...

Waiting for Keith and Curtis, the pair of them came out with way too many bags. A normal person would have left them in the trolley until they were closer to the car, then gather them all up in an attempt not to do a second trip. Not these two. Curtis was happily sucking on a lollipop, while Keith looked like he’d sucked on a lemon. Remaining in the driver’s seat, Lance wasn’t getting in the way. The two men had once been friends, Lance had the feeling they needed to reconnect or Keith would continue to be miserable and held back by his past. Keith needed friends, he needed to know he could move past the things that still haunted his dreams, and that was okay to be happy. Being happy didn’t mean he had to forget his time with Adam, it meant accepting that something awful had happened and Adam wouldn’t want him hurting.

When the two “kids” had loaded up the shopping, Keith nearly landed in Lance’s lap with how fast he tried to climb into the front, Curtis climbing up to squash the three of them into place on the bench seat

“That was fun! Thank you, Lance. We noticed you hadn’t chosen a toaster, so Keith selected one for you”

Keith huffed, pulling the pizza boxes down off the dash

“Dobber”

Distracted by how damn hot he’d been, thoughts of a toaster went out with window with the need to cool down

“Children, don’t make me put both of you in a time out”

Curtis laughed, while Keith’s frown deepened

“I’m not a child”

“Of course not. Thank you for remembering”

Lance leaned over and kissed Keith on the cheek, not quite sure why.

His movements drew Curtis’s attentions

“Lance, could it be you feel suddenly aroused?”

Nope. Not having that conversation

“Keith did something nice, I was thanking him”

“Your face is flushed, pupils are wide, and your emitting a scent much like a werewolf in mating season. Flashes of arousal will come with the changes in your body as you prepare for breeding. There’s no need to be embarrassed, it’s quite normal and will be quite unexpected as your body settles”

Oooh... that kind of made sense... too much sense... Just another way to make him feel even shittier about the changes

“Curtis, you know that talk we had? Can we please not discuss my body. Right now, I want to go home, eat some bad pizza and have a glass of wine. My body is off limits until further notice”

“Sorry, it was just an observation that you seem quite flustered around Keith”

“I don’t care if you’re cursed, Lance doesn’t want to talk about it, so we’re not talking about it”

Lance was tempted to thank Keith, but Keith needed to stop standing up for him. He couldn’t take it. It made him all nervous and sent his thoughts about Keith south of his belt. It was bad enough he got these hot flushes, now Keith knew what they meant... Now Keith was going to be weird about it, and Lance was going to have to not be weird about it, and there was going to be a whole of weirdness that he definitely didn’t want between them when it was weird enough they’d had sex dreams about each other. Keith was all about taking responsibility... Lance didn’t want him trying to take responsibility for him being horny and deciding he had to handle Lance’s condition with sex when these weird waves came. His body being so damn weird was probably what was drawing Keith to him, not any kind of actual affections, just smell induced reaction. The thought was depressing. Keith probably didn’t like him at all, and once freed from being around him constantly, the man would most probably make a very conscious effort to avoid him. It wasn’t like being at step one with Keith, it was like nearly reaching the finish line only to find someone had jumped the gun so the whole race was meaningless.

Starting his bronco, Lance didn’t bother scolding Keith and Curtis for not wearing their seatbelts. With a little bit of luck they’d all die horribly and the topic of his body would never be spoken of again.

#once bitten twice stupid #oncebittentwicestupid

[poignantpulchritude]

Silly Pleasures-Chapter 6

*Thanks to everyone reading along so far! I’ll be back to posting more frequently, I got into a bit of a slump once work started up again. But we back BABY!!!!*

I was deep into an article detailing the life of executioners in 17th century France, when I felt eyes staring in my direction. I looked up from my laptop to see a boy, possibly around 18, quickly look towards the window of the library. It was all too quick for it to be a coincidence. 

Once my gaze drifted back down to my computer, I felt the eyes return to me. I tried to ignore the feeling, but eventually it became too much. I felt my neck heat up in a blush, my armpits started to sweat under my white sweatshirt, and I could no longer focus on the words I was reading. The letters blurred into a gray mass on the page. 

My phoned beeped next to my hand, making me jump out of my panicked state. I took a deep breath in to calm my nerves before looking down. Despite the immediate increase in heart rate as I glanced at the name, I felt a small smile creep onto my face. 

Harry had texted me periodically since our night out for drinks a week ago. He was not the best at texting and most of the messages consisted of random dad jokes sent impulsively. I also could not deny that each time I saw his contact, I blushed and tucked my phone away as if I was harboring a deep secret. 

In some ways, though, Harry was my deep secret. While our friendship was still in its early stages, I developed a sort of possessiveness over him. After hearing about our semi-date, I was brutally interrogated by Rosie, Amber, and Keith. They wanted to know whether or not some of his past relationships where publicity stunts, if Larry was real, and if he secretly hated all One Direction songs. Instead of obliging their twisted questioning, I simply told them that he smelled good and remembered my drink order. I did not share that there were whispers and the slight brush of hands. That was for me.

Instead of a knock-knock joke under his name, Harry sent me an invitation to a party that night. 

Technically, today was a day off for me. I gave myself an early weekend because of a steady string of private chats over the past few nights. My research for my dissertation was far ahead of half of the other students, too. I had no excuse to decline his offer. 

What time and where?

*

Hours later, I was sat in the living room of Alexa Chung. It all felt quite absurd.

When I informed Molly of my plans for the night, she gave me a knowing smirk. “Oh, my god, you are going to fuck him, this is incredible.”
 “Stop, you don’t know that at all. He’s giving me very friendly vibes, maybe he just wants another friend that has impulsive tattoos?” I offered up. This was far from a date in my eyes. Not only was Harry not picking me up, he was not meeting me anywhere before, instead choosing to let me show up outside a very swanky flat at 8 that night, alone.  

A man I did not know opened the door when I arrived. I did not really know what to do or say. Harry did not tell me who’s house this was, just the time and location. 

“Um, hi. I’m here for the party,” I said, with an odd grimace on my face that I attempted to make look like a confident smile.

He smiled back, similarly confused, but said, “Uh, certainly. Come in, come in, it’s a bit nippy out there.” I blushed deeply as he stuttered and coughed at the end of his sentence. “Well, it’s a bit cold I mean.” He walked ahead of me, further into the luxurious flat as I tried to discretely rub my boobs so my nipples could warm slightly and not be so obviously erect. That did not help much put instead encouraged them to raise further. I groaned and hugged my open jacket tightly across my body. I’m positive I looked ill.

When we finally arrived at the end of the long hallway to a large living area, I noticed the long table filled with bread, tomatoes, and pasta. My mouth watered at the sheer amount of Italian food and at the copious bottles of wine. In those moments, I decided I would just sit at the table for the entire evening, hiding behind the bruschetta and creating a barrier of wine so no one would see my face. Clearly, Harry had other ideas.

“Jeanne, you made it!” He yelled across the room, surrounded by a gaggle of beautiful women. I gave a shy wave as he left the group to give me a hug. I felt the glares from the other girls immediately. 

“Hi Harry. Nice of you to inform me of the dress code and the fact that it was a dinner party,” I complained through a tight smile. He rolled his eyes playfully at my words.

“There is no dress code, this is their casual attire, trust me. And besides, it’s mostly a drinking party with a bit of bread involved.” If I had known I would have been sitting around men and women decked out in brown leather, stilettos, and silk scarves I definitely would not have decided to go bra-less in a white shirt and jeans. My desire to have every event be casual got the best of me once again. “C’mon, lemme introduce you to some people,” he spoke as he led me around the room, hand on my low back like days before. 

So that was how we arrived at the absurdity of sitting in Alexa Chung’s living room. She was chatting animatedly on the light couch in front of me as I sat facing her on her wood floor, sitting on a pillow and leaning back on the coffee table. Harry was correct that much of the food was left at the way side, which meant that I would happily be able to sneak plates of it home. 

“Have you ever been to Paris, Jeanne?” Alexa asked. I downed the rest of the red wine in my glass before answering. 

“Nope, but I’ve been to Nice. That’s where my dad’s family is from.”

“Wait, you’re French?” A girl, who’s name the wine haze helped me forget, asked quickly.

“Yup, only half though.”

“Hmmm, interesting.” 

I was a bit confused by the way she responded. There was a tone to her words that seemed almost disappointed. 

“What?” I asked, “Is a rivalry between the British and French coming to a head right now?” I attempted to joke. 

“Oh no, sorry I didn’t mean anything by it. It’s just…well…Harry’s last girlfriend was French.” Before I could ask her what she meant by that, I felt a body land heavily next to mine on the floor. 

“So, what’s the hot gos here ladies?” Harry slurred. 

“Just talking about your dating history dear Harry,” Alexa teased. 

If Harry was uncomfortable by the topic, he didn’t show it, especially with how drunk he was. By his behavior, tonight clearly was not meant to be a date. I spent most of it talking to people that happened to sit on the couch I was in front of, while I drank my wine. Harry popped in a bit now and then, but it seemed like he was deep in conversations with everyone except me at the party. It was fine. 

“Wouldn’t everyone fucking like to know all about that,” he responded, picking up the bottle of wine on the coffee table behind us and putting it up to his lips.

“Hey, that’s gross,” I grumbled at him, pulling the bottle away and clutching it to my chest. 

“You’re gross.”


“You have no idea.”

Harry laughed at my words and I saw some light go back into his eyes. He did not look very lively, but distracted or clouded. 

“So anyway Jeanne, you absolutely have to go to Paris and to this one shop…” Alexa continued on and I nodded and smiled when appropriate, but was focused mainly on Harry’s body heat beside me. He was almost oppressively warm, no doubt from his running around the party and his alcohol consumption. Each word Alexa spoke had Harry leaning closer and closer towards my left shoulder. He smelled uniquely floral, a departure from his husky cologne days before. 

Before I knew it, Alexa and her friend were no longer speaking to me. Instead, they were engaged in a heated conversation about politics with the self-proclaimed son of an Earl. I could feel Harry’s eyes burning a whole into the side of my face. I decided to blurt something out to diffuse any one-sided sexual tension I was feeling.

“You don’t seem happy.”

Harry pulled his head back in confusion and shook it back and forth, his hair not as mobile as years past. “What do you mean?” he asked, light and confused. It seemed put on for my benefit.

I shrugged. “I don’t know, you look a bit down. Maybe it’s because I’ve never seen you drunk,” I told him. Though I left out that his sad looks probably had nothing to do with his drinking, remembering stolen images of him on the internet drunk and smiley with friends. I could tell his behavior was odd. 

“Well no. I’ve been talking to everyone here tonight!”

“Talking to lots of people doesn’t mean you are incapable of being sad, Harry.”

“Why do we only interact when we are drunk?” 

“You are the one that has invited me to two events that were based solely on drinking. And don’t try to change the conversation on me, I’m a scholar, you need to do better than that.”

“Well here’s one, why don’t you invite me anywhere?”

I was too flustered at this question to attempt to sway him back to our conversational starting point. “Uh, I’ve invited you somewhere.”
 “Bullshit! I’m not blackout drunk, I still have my memory,” Harry said, humor thickly lacing his voice. 

“I…I uh, well I’ll invite you somewhere now.” Harry waited patiently. Ideas rattled around in my head of places to take Harry that would not absolutely bore him out of his mind. “I’m going to the Victoria and Albert Museum Monday afternoon.” 

He just stared at me. “And…” he responded in an exaggerated manner.

“And…I would like you to come with me. I haven’t been yet and they were your royals previously.”

“Why thank you Jeannie, I would love to.” He made a big show out of his response, bowing his head and picking up my hand to kiss delicately. I whipped my hand back, faux annoyed but secretly giddy. Harry’s laughter traveled across the room at him antics. “I haven’t been to a museum in ages.” 

I began to question him as to why, but realized that he was actually someone incredibly famous. I immediately felt terrible, realizing that Harry would be unable to enjoy the outing because of his recognizable face. “Oh jeez, never mind. I didn’t even think about people recognizing you.”

“No, no, I want to go. I’m not hounded as much as I was with the band. Besides, I’m not sure how many fans will be at a museum named for royals on a Monday unless they are with a school group. It will be fine.” The smile Harry had on his face was genuine and it made me feel happy inside, not because it was directed at me, but because it made him look better. The clouds behind his eyes were not as heavy.

“Are you really okay?” I asked him one last time. 

He looked me in the eye and remained silent for a good twenty seconds. I was not sure he was going to respond at all, but then he nodded slightly. “Yea, I’m feeling okay. We put the finishing touches on the album today and it just brought back some feelings, that’s all.” Suddenly, it made sense. Feelings of his ex-girlfriend. “Some of her friends are here,” he admitted. The heavy drinking finally made sense. 

“How long ago did you break up?”

“Oh, a long while ago to be honest. But, it’s a bit difficult to be reminded of it so frequently. I was pretty isolated for a while so it’s weird being around it all again.” 

I remained silent, letting his words sink in. I never had a long-term relationship. The longest was about four months, that ended in infidelity. I did not know what it was like to be emotionally and physically connected to someone for months or years and then to have that ripped away. “I don’t know what to say. I’m shit at relationships.”


Harry shook his head, “You don’t need to say anything, that’s all well and done. Just need to do a bit of growth again, don’t want this to set me back and put me in a funk.” After he said this, Harry’s eyes traveled to the wall in front of us, inspecting the colorful paintings on the wall. I could tell he was being introspective, thinking too deeply in his intoxicated state. 

The first bars of Just Like Heaven began to play through the speakers. My ears immediately perked up and I shook Harry’s shoulders. He looked over at me lethargically, a bit like a confused puppy dog. I jumped up on my feet, only wobbling slightly as I pulled Harry up too. I dragged him to the center of the room and started flailing around to the words. “I love this song!” I yelled at him, jolting a few of the bodies around us. 

Finally shaken from his reverie, Harry started bobbing his head and moving his limbs in an awkwardly hilarious fashion. Soon, we were dancing erratically to the beat, stomping on the floor and twirling around in circles. I felt like I was in kindergarten again, running around the playground playing tag with the boy I had a crush on. Those around us joined in and soon Alexa Chung’s flat was filled with moderately intoxicated people dancing to 80’s pop-punk. 

“Show me how you do it, and I’ll promise you, I’ll promise that I’ll run away with you,” Harry and I sang in unison, loud and smiling. I was not embarrassed or nervous at the lyrical implications of the song, I was just jamming out with a friend. It was at this point that I genuinely felt that Harry had become a friend. We danced the most aggressively in a crowded room without a care in the world. 

“Hey Jeanne!” Harry yelled over the music, “You’re just like a dream!” I laughed loudly at his repetition of the lyrics. I even gave a little bow. We giggled around the room and I felt the lightest I had in a while. I did not notice until later that night that Harry’s eyes looked the brightest I’ve ever seen right when he sang to me, “You’re just like heaven.”

#harry styles fanfiction #Harry Styles #silly pleasures #one direction fanfiction #one direction #fan fiction #fluff #watermelon sugar #fine line

[noussommeslessquelettes]

Oh fun! Things you said mini fic? 11 or 20?💕💕💕

MM OKAY SO! Ever since I first started writing kl fic I had this idea for a fake relationship AU. I never managed to complete the plot of it so it never got written, but I’ve always wanted to write one particular scene from it, and when I got this I jumped on the chance to write it!!!

Background on the fic: fake dating AU. Lance’s brother is getting married, and they’re out of town for a long weekend for the wedding. Hunk was invited, and with that Lance and him brought Keith and Pidge as their plus-ones.

When they get there, they find out that Keith and Lance’s exes were invited to the wedding too--what’s worse, they’re attending the wedding as a couple. Keith makes the executive decision that the both of them are going to fake date and be obnoxiously in love to make them jealous. Hijinks ensue, along with feelings, the latter of which are under the cut!

Send me a ship with one of these and I’ll write a mini fic

11. Things you said when you were drunk

Preview: Keith liked to think that the phrase had been better formed in his head, but what came out ended up being, “I thought vodka crans were a Sad Lance Drink.”

Lance huffed a humourless laugh. “Well, you’re lookin’ at a Sad Lance Lance, buddy.”

CW: drinking/drunkenness, (American) underage drinking, mentions of vomit

Keith had never imagined being a fake boyfriend to be more effort than being a real one had ever been. Then again, he’d been a bit foolish to assume that anything could be easy when it involved Lance McClain.

But because Lance’s family wasn’t privy to their little secret, it meant that when the wedding party lost the Nuisance of Honour, the immediate suggestion from Lance’s mother was that Keith, as Lance’s Real Boyfriend™, lead the charge on the search efforts. And come one A.M., it meant that Keith made the call to relieve the others of their duty, and to continue the search alone.

And yes, it might’ve been Keith’s decision to start this fake relationship in the first place. But it didn’t give Lance permission to go AWOL past midnight, on the night before the wedding, when the two of them had to wake up at fucking seven o’clock tomorrow. But the world didn’t trade in the currency of ‘should’s, and that’s why Keith was riding the elevator down to the front lobby at half-past one instead of sinking back into the plush sheets of the king-sized bed waiting for him 25, 26, now 27 floors above.

At this point, he was about ready to tell the concierge to phone the police about a missing person, then fuck off and go to bed. He indulged in the fantasy of shucking this mess off onto somebody else, as he stomped up towards the front desk—squinting his eyes to contend with the reflection of the chandelier against the counter’s polished brass. Turning his head askance as he passed the hotel bar—

Wait. He froze in his tracks. The bar.

It was so obvious he could’ve smacked himself—they’d checked the fucking pool in the first ten minutes of the search, and they didn’t think of the bar?!—but he focused what little energy he had left on diverting his path, moving close enough to peer past the glass into the darkened room, and locating the one patron perched alone on a barstool. He raised a glass in cheer towards the bartender, then knocked back a swig of the drink—far from his first, judging by how very nearly he toppled out of his seat.

“Fantastic,” Keith deadpanned under his breath as Lance managed to steady himself with a hand on the bartop, his laughter ringing out clear as a bell when Keith pushed through the glass door, shadows falling over him as he moved toward the counter. “Hey asshole,” he called out, holding his tongue past that to judge just how drunk Lance was, lest he waste a castigation on someone who’d not remember a word of it come morning.

Lance perked up at the appellation, spinning in the stool and hoisting his glass up once more. “Hey, babe! C’mere.” He set down the drink—thank god—and pat a hand on the stool next to him. “Join us—whatever y’order, ‘s on me.”

Keith bit down a groan—he’d been here all of five seconds, and already Lance’s behaviour was drawing looks from the other patrons, inscrutable in the dark, but undeniable all the same. He closed the distance between them, but refused the invitation, grabbing Lance’s elbow instead and giving a tug. “I’m not doing that—let’s go.”

“Wait, wait wait wait—” his other hand pumped a five-finger ‘stop’ that bumped against Keith’s chest. He laughed, then brought the hand up between them, curling his index finger to beckon Keith closer. When Keith didn’t oblige, he added a pull with the arm in Keith’s grip.

Keith sighed, leaning forward until their eyes matched, until the humidity of Lance’s vodka breath washed uncomfortably on his face. “What.”

“They didn’t card me,” he stage-whispered. He then failed to stifle a snort, and elbowed Keith away. “Guess that’s what ‘cha get with these bougie-ass places—don’t give a fuck as long as you’ve got the money to back it up!”

Keith folded his arms over his chest. “Please tell me you opened up a tab.”

Lance shrugged, reaching for his glass again. “Told ‘em to charge it to our room.”

He groaned—Sober Lance was definitely going to try and macgyver a way to pawn the bill off on Keith. But he supposed that was a problem for later, because in the moment Lance was tipping back the last of his current drink, slamming it down on the bartop with needless fervour, and waving the other hand to catch the bartender’s eye.

“Nope.” Keith reached out for his wrist and pulled the hand down. “You’ve had enough.” He looked up to the bartender, who cocked an eyebrow at him silently as Lance whined unintelligibly in his ear. “He’ll have a water.”

“Nooo…” Lance squirmed to get out of his grasp, only to reach back out for him as his ass slid off the stool. Keith caught him reflexively, arms wrapped around Lance’s waist, Lance with two hands fisted in the front of his shirt.

He brought his eyes up, nose brushing against Keith’s cheek with the act. Keith’s heart fluttered, a stammer building in his chest that ultimately turned into the word, “Okay.”

He hoisted Lance back up onto his perch. Once he was firmly seated, Keith crashed back onto the stool behind him—the one Lance had offered him initially—and eyed the bartender as they returned with a tall glass of water.

“And the vodka cran?” They asked.

“We’re good,” Keith dismissed immediately.

They moved on to the next customer with no further ado. It took Keith a split second to register what had been said, but when he did he turned to Lance, who now pointedly stared into the countertop, his smile fallen.

He liked to think that the phrase had been better formed in his head, but what came out ended up being, “I thought vodka crans were a Sad Lance Drink.”

Lance huffed a humourless laugh, reaching for the water. “Well, you’re lookin’ at a Sad Lance Lance, buddy.” His eyes slipped shut as he tipped back the glass, downing a third of it in one go.

Keith turned to rest an elbow on the table, his fingers drumming against the varnished wood. “So you came down here to drown your sorrows?”

Lance massaged his fingertips into his eyes. “What else ‘m I supposed to do?” He dropped the hand, looking straight ahead.

“Talk to someone? You usually love doing that.”

He made a sour face. “Don’t want to. I want to forget about it.”

Keith cocked an eyebrow. “And how’s that working out so far?”

“Honestly? Pretty good ‘til you showed up.”

Keith took it on the chin—it was no secret that their friendship wasn’t always on the best footing (that is, to anyone who wasn’t tricked into thinking they were in a relationship.) And while Lance usually wasn’t a belligerent drunk, he often got a little too truthful. Frankly, Keith had sort of suspected that Lance continued to harbour a little honest animosity towards him, despite the progress their relationship had undergone, and the unfortunate feelings Keith had developed in the process.

And he supposed he should accept responsibility for that, too. What kind of dumbass suggested to his crush that they pretend to date for the weekend of his brother’s wedding, just so they could make their respective exes jealous?

(The desperate kind, probably.)

“Well… then talk to me.” It was the best he could offer—because like hell he was leaving Lance drunk, depressed, and alone in a hotel bar. “I’m your boyfriend now, after all.”

“Fake boyfriend,” Lance amended pointedly.

Keith frowned—the whole weekend, they’d been calling each other their boyfriends tongue-in-cheek, even when they were alone. It was the first time Lance had expended the effort to correct him. “Is that what’s bothering you?”

“It’s—” He groaned, running his hands through his hair. “I’m way too drunk for this right now.”

“We’ve only got one more day,” he offered in consolation, “and we don’t have to do any couple shit if you don’t want to.”

“Mm-mm.” He dismissed it with a wave of his hand. “It’s not that.”

“Then what is it?” He asked. Lance shrugged, taking another long swig of water. Keith huffed. “Lance, let’s go up—”

“Y’know why we started this in the first place? Like—” He gestured between the two of them. “Us—”

“I know—”

“Dating.” His hand hung in the open air, forgotten as his eyes went unfocused, lost in thought. After a moment, Keith reached out for his wrist, lowering it back down to Lance’s lap.

“I got it. We did it ‘cause… well, to get back at our exes.”

Lance snapped his fingers, grinning. “Exactly! Look at you, smarty pants, ‘n here I thought Hunk and Pidge were supposed to be the geniuses.”

Keith rolled his eyes, nudging the water back towards him. “Focus up, Lance; what about it?”

Lance polished it off, pushing it away so he could rest his elbows on the tabletop. “Guess it leaves me as the only dumb one.”

“Not—” He groaned. “Don’t start with that shit. I mean—”

“I know what you mean,” he murmured, the brief smile slipping off his face. “I’m not that dumb, Keith. Look, we were trying to make Nyma ‘n Rolo jealous, but we failed. They’re still happy, and in love, and they think that we’re happy and in love.”

Keith nodded. “Okay..?”

“But I’m not happy.” His voice started to waver as his volume control went to the wayside. He pushed off the bar to face Keith, a desperate kind of sadness shimmering in the corners of his eyes. “We’re not in love.”

Keith took that on the chin too, though it was noticeably harder to bear. Lance is the drunk one right now, not you, he told himself. Don’t say anything that you’ll both regret. He swallowed whatever protest he’d had down, and nodded for Lance to continue.

“I want to be,” he spoke it softly, like a confession. “I want to be so bad.”

“It’s not enough to want it,” Keith admitted. He knew it all too well.

Lance sniffed, wiping at his eyes. “And it’s not enough to pretend. But it’s nice for a while, at least.” Keith offered a wry smile, and Lance’s gaze slipped to the floor again. “I don’t know, it’s hard. The two of them are, like… you can tell. It’s like they were made for each other. No one’s ever felt that way about me.”

Swallow it down. Keith reached out a hand, placing it on Lance’s knee and giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“I knew all along Nyma didn’t love me, even though I did.” He covered the back of Keith’s hand under his palm, holding it there.

“I’m sorry, Lance.” He’d had no idea that Lance had been so serious about Nyma. For his part, he’d never once believed he was in love with Rolo. “If I’d known, I wouldn’t have suggested—”

“It’s okay. It was stupid for me to pretend that it was real.” He sighed, threading their fingers together clumsily. “But it felt real, sometimes.”

“I know,” he lied. It felt like the right thing to say—and besides, what would Lance even care in his state?

“It felt real with you sometimes, too.”

Keith’s breath caught, his fingers twitching in Lance’s grasp. He’s drunk, he reminded himself. He’s drunk; he doesn’t know what he’s saying. He eased the tension in his body with a deep breath. “It’s not stupid, Lance. You… you care so much. You have so much love to give, and there’s nothing wrong with wanting to share it—and you do; you share it with your family, and with your friends. And I guess sometimes, you share it with the people who don’t appreciate it.”

“And it sucks.”

Keith nodded. “I know.” And this time, it was the truth. “But one day, you’re going to find someone who’s stupid in love with you too—someone who’s never going to let you think otherwise.”

Lance scoffed. “Right.”

“I mean it. You’re worth a love worth fighting for, Lance, and you’re going to find it. And when you do, you’ll be the boyfriend of the luckiest person in the world.”

Lance smiled softly. “You’re only saying that ‘cause I’m drunk.”

“Well, I wouldn’t need to convince you to come to bed if you were sober,” he admitted. “But I still mean it.”

“Thanks,” he breathed. “Y’know, whatever guy manages to finally lands you’s going to be one lucky bastard, too.”

Keith sighed. “We’ll see about that.”

“You’re a pretty awesome fake boyfriend, ‘n I bet you’re an even better real one.”

He slid off the stool, wrapping an arm around Lance’s waist. “Well regardless, I’m about to be one hell of a great friend, and drag your sorry ass back to our hotel room.”

Lance hummed contentedly, wrapping his arms around Keith’s shoulders and leaning into him. “I want a piggyback.”

“No chance.” He tugged Lance to his feet, bracing himself when his weight inevitably slouched into him.

“Stop, stop—hanggon,” he slurred, his head slumping. “Guh, dizzy…”

Keith stilled, tapping his foot impatiently. “Have you hurled yet?”

“Mm-mm.” Lance took a step forward, and Keith took the charge onward once more.

Keith rolled his eyes—Lance was so lucky his fake boyfriend happened to be real in love with him. Keith, on the other hand, would have the misfortune of needing to watch his crush hopefully not choke on his own vomit for the next six hours. “How many drinks did you have?”

“No clue, ‘m too gay to count.” He giggled, then whispered, “Don’t tell my mommy, Keith.”

“What, that you’re gay, that you’re drunk, or that you can’t do math?”

“None. Be like… the KGB.”

“Okay, Lance.” He pushed through the glass door with a toe, marching them through before it swung back on them.

“The Keith Gay… Butts.” He dissolved into a fit of giggles.

Keith’s not proud of the laugh he had to stifle, too. “Oh, you’re so lucky I don’t have the hands to dial Pidge right now.”

“What can I say, I’m a lucky guy! Who needs a real boyfriend, anyway? I’ve already got a fake one with a cute butt who takes care of me.”

Keith typed up their floor number on the touchscreen by the elevator door. “God, you’re going to be so hungover tomorrow.”

“D’you got Advil?” Keith shook his head. “We’ll go to Marco’s room—his wife’s usually got some.”

The elevator bell rang, doors opening up for them, and he pulled Lance in. “You think you can act sober enough to face your brother?”

“Pshh, oh yeah, I got this.”

He pushed off of Keith, staggering a bit but ultimately gaining his footing. Then the elevator lurched into motion and he stumbled. Keith was ready to catch him the moment he did, Lance steadying himself with hands on his shoulders. Once stable, they brought their eyes up as one, and dissolved into a short fit of laughter.

When it eased, Lance wrapped his arms around Keith’s neck, squeezing him close. “Sorry for being sloppy.”

Keith shook his head, returning the embrace. “Don’t be; you’ve held my hair back enough times to earn it.”

“Then thanks,” he said. “For being a good boyfriend.”

He twisted his fingers in the hem of Lance’s shirt. “Anytime.”

The elevator dinged, and the doors opened up.

#voltron #klance #squelette writes #I got a headache after uploading the last one so I had to lie down #still have a headache and will probably lie down again lol #mysticalnights2 #demandez la squelette

[shastelly]

Klance Positivity Week - Modern Day/ Historical

So this is for May 27, not sure if I’m going to do the whole week, I’m behind on some other stuff, but wanted to at least get this one out.  

Total self indulgent fluffy silliness :)

Modern College AU

 "Lance, I don't know about this." Keith grumbled picking at the outfit he was being forced to wear.

 "Keith, it's fun, have fun."  Lance huffed. He had personally picked the costumes and he thought they both looked damn fine.

 "I'm sorry, I just, I feel weird."  Keith frowned picking at the red, brown, and black patterned coat think he was wearing.  The weird little wooden toggle button things on the front were just funny looking. The black pants were pretty plain, and he had flat out refused to even consider tights, much to Lance's dismay. The only thing he really liked about the outfit was the black belt with a special sheath for his dagger and a place to hand the scabbard for his sword and, of course, the two blades themselves were the only things he really like about the outfit.  The black boots were relatively okay, they went up his calf and were soft leather pull on types.  

 "Well, you look hot."  Lance huffed annoyed that his boyfriend was not appreciating his effort, and in all his pouting glory was still completely adorable.

 Keith huffed out a breath, he knew he was being a bit of a brat, after all he had agreed to this.  Lance had been begging him to take him to the Renaissance Festival since Pidge and Hunk had decided they were going.  He had agreed when he'd seen how much Lance wanted it.  He really did like to make him happy.

 "Hunk's wearing a kilt, you know.  I was trying to pick something you'd like and would look nice on you."  Lance twirled the fringe on the edge of the cropped jacket he was wearing.  It moved around and tickled him when he danced.  His broad legged pants gathered at the knee and he lost count on the number of scarves and belts he'd strapped around the waist, with whatever bit and bobbles he could find to spice up his gypsy costume.  He had a scarf tied around his head and a fake hoop in his ear and a few bangles and rings to add more flare.  The outfit was completed with brown leather sandals that had laces that wrapped around his legs to his knees.  He looked sexy and he knew it.  He wasn't sure why his boyfriend was failing to notice.

 "Pidge is an archer.  Her outfit isn't so…stiff."  Keith picked at the jacket again.

 "Keith. You know what, you're going.  You promised.  I'm sorry if you don't like the outfit.  Next year, pick your own."  Lance huffed and crossed his arms.  Shiro would be there to pick them up in the van any minute.  Keith had come over to his place to get dressed.  Allura was with Shiro and they would pick Pidge and Hunk up first because they were at Pidge's dorm.  "Besides, you think your outfit is stiff, you should see what Allura convinced Shiro to wear."

 "What?"  Keith suddenly forgetting his pout for teasing his mentor.

 "Well, you know Allura broke up with Lotor last week, anyway, so she begged Shiro to be the matched set for her costume."  Lance smirked.  "Let's just say Shiro is not too chicken to wear the tights and his jacket makes yours look like a comfy hoodie."

 "This I have to see."  Keith smiled and finally let go of his nerves enough to appreciate the costume Lance was wearing.  His skin looked great against the fabric colors and Keith's fingers twitched with a sudden desire to wrap his hands around Lance's bare midriff.

 "Hmph. Well at least you're smiling now." Lance put his arms down and pulled Keith to the door.  "They should be here any minute, come on."

 Keith took a deep breath.  It took a whole lot of love for Lance for him to leave the safety of the room in costume, but he managed it.  Cringing and waiting for laughter he made his way down the hall, down the stairs and through the lobby.

 "Hey, Keith!  Lance!" Ryan Kincaid waved from the lounge area in the lobby.  "Looking good!  You going to the Renn fest?"

 "Yeah."  Lance smiled brightly and waved back.

 "I went last weekend.  It was a blast.  The turkey legs were awesome, and I loved the archery area.  If you do well at some of the games, you can be a squire or get knighted by the queen."

 "Really?" Lance's eyes lit up.  "I am so doing that.  Or we are, right Keith?"

 "Um…sure?" Keith shrugged.

 "Don't worry Keith, it's fun."  Inna called from the other side of Ryan.  "The pirate show was very entertaining, lots of acrobatic action."  

 "I liked the Mud Show.  Seriously, though, do not sit in the front row."  James spoke up with a grave look on his face.  The rest of his group burst into laughter.  

 "I have never seen Griff look quite that upset."  Nadia laughed.  "He was covered in mud."

 "So worth it."  Inna grinned.

 "Traitor."  James huffed. "Keith, I don't care what they tell you.  Don't sit in the front row.  Don't sit in the front six rows, avoid the splash zone."

 Keith looked slightly horrified, but Lance just laughed.  

 "I am not letting him fall for that, not when I put so much work into this costume."  Lance almost giggled, "Though it would have been funny."

 Keith glared at him and Lance and the other four laughed a little more.

 "Anyway, have fun.  We'll have to compare notes after class tomorrow?"  Ryan asked.  He and Lance shared a geometry class and were study buddies.

 "You bet.  We got to get going.  Shiro has the team van to haul us in."  Lance waved and they headed out the door.  Shiro was the assistant swim coach and frequently asked permission to use the van to haul students around.  Lance and Keith were both on the swim team, while Pidge was on the dive team, and Hunk was a student coach and lifeguard.  

 Pidge was a crazy high diver and it amazed Keith how many times she could flip between the platform and the water.  She was also completely fearless.  She was currently a double major in Software Engineering and Physics.  She'd started university two years early and was a certified genius.  

 Lance was the best swimmer on the team and swam breaststroke, butterfly, a couple relays, and long-distance freestyle.  He was majoring in education with an emphasis in literature and art and had told Shiro he wanted to be a swim coach someday.  

 Hunk was a student coach.  Lance joked if they didn't go to school inland, Hunk would be the star of the surfing team.  He told them repeatedly Hunk was a crazy strong swimmer, just not fast.  He'd watched Hunk surf enough and even had his own butt hauled out of the water when he'd taken a bad fall off a surfboard. Hunk was an engineering major, but he was also a lifeguard and was training as a paramedic.

 Keith was also a good swimmer and did a lot of the short distance freestyle, relays, and the only one he could beat Lance in - backstroke.  At first, they'd really clashed, but after Shiro forced them on the same relay team, things had really turned around and they went from enemies, to a great team, to boyfriends.  Keith was majoring in psychology and sociology.  He wasn't sure what he wanted to be when he finished, just that he wanted to help people.  Lance had gushed and said it was sweet when he told them.

 Shiro and Allura were graduate students.  Shiro was a physical therapy major.  Allura was a law student.  Their classes didn't really overlap, but they were both very active on campus and currently the co-leaders for the campus Habitat for Humanity group.

  When the blue and red van pulled up, Pidge slide open the side door and they climbed in.  Lance was practically preening at the compliments the others made to their costumes.  He in turn complimented Shiro and Allura on their noble costumes and how authentic they looked.  He also complimented Pidge on her costume, letting her know he particularly liked the caplet and hoped she might let him borrow it.  Hunk's costume deserved to be raved about due to the leather armor pieces and the pattern in the kilt, though Lance gave the most compliments on Hunk's legs making Hunk sputter in embarrassed pleasure.

 Keith spent the entire time sitting behind Shiro poking at the ruffled collar and laughing.

 **pics of the costumes at the end of the fic :)**

 They arrived at the festival before it opened.  Pidge had gotten their tickets online, so they didn't have to wait in the line or anything.  There were players from the faire moving through the crowd doing gag routines and talking up the crowd.  It was a fun atmosphere and Keith felt himself relaxing.  There were a lot of people in costume, almost half of the crowd. Lance told him several other would be in costume after they went in because there were places to rent costumes.

 Keith even found himself laughing at a couple of swordsmen up on fake castle wall. They were clashing blades and laughing and making jokes.  Keith thought it looked like fun.  Lance had whispered into his ear that he was not allowed to climb the wall.  He'd blushed.

 They had gone to show after show.  There was singing and sword fighting and acrobats.  He'd remembered not to sit in the front rows of the Mud Show and was able to laugh at the mud-splattered attendees that had sat in the splash zone.

 They'd done some shopping.  Lance bought some weird handmade creams and candles.  Hunk got a new mortar and pestle that he was going to use for herbs for his cooking.  Keith bought a new dagger, which surprised no one.  Pidge got a kit to make a mini trebuchet.  She planned to use it to scale up for a large one.  Allura bought a flower crown.  Shiro had picked up a wax seal set.  

 They'd eaten turkey legs.  Pidge had looked particularly ridiculous tearing into hers.  Shiro and Allura drank mead.  Hunk had gotten steak on a stake.  Lance and Keith split a bread bowl stew.  Pidge found some kind of deep-fried cookie dough.

 "What now?"  Keith looked around.  He hated to admit it, but he was having a great time.  He'd been especially enthralled when Lance had joined the belly dancers on the stage and managed to pull off several of the moves they had showed him.

 "Now on to the tests of skill!"  Lance yelled and pointed to the section of the faire with most of the games.  "Remember what Ryan said?  We need to become knights!"

 "What kind of tests?"  Keith frowned, remembering the conversation, "I'm not good at archery."

 "Well, there are knife, axe, and spear throwing," Lance looked back with a grin and a wink, certain Keith would be happy with some of those choices.

 "I can throw an axe?"  Keith's eyes widened.  

 "Yep."  Lance popped the "p".

 "Well, let's go!"  Keith grabbed Lance's hand and pulled him along toward the games.  The rest laughed and followed along.  

 Surprising no one Keith was awesome at the knife throwing.  He was okay with the axe; Pidge beat him at that one and Allura tied her. Lance put so many bullseyes into the archery area that he'd gathered a crowd watching him.  Hunk and Shiro both aced the spear throwing.  

 They all earned high enough marks to be knighted by the queen.  They talked to some people and made arrangements to be knighted after the evenings final jousting event.  They all sat together during the joust cheering on the knight for their section.  Allura was up on the bench yelling for the knight during the sword portion.  Lance jumped up and joined her and Keith felt like crawling under the bench, but he noticed that no one around them seemed to mind and were just looking on with smiles.  He slowly relaxed and allowed himself to enjoy their antics.  

 After the joust they were called out with a few others to approach the Queen and her court. She stepped down onto the bottom step of her raised viewing area.  She held a sword and carefully knighted each person as they approached.

 Allura was first and the Queen gave her a tight nod and a smile for her prowess with the axe.  Pidge was next and earned a round of laughter from the crowd when it was announced that she too had shown prowess with the axe.  She glared and aimed her bow at the audience and the Queen asked that the brave warrior not injure the ignorant crowd of peasants.  Pidge lowered the bow with a smile and strutted off to Allura's side. Hunk and Shiro were also honored for the spear throwing.  Keith received a special award for high marks in two categories.  The Queen declared him one of her guard and gave him a rose and a medallion.  Lance was last and the Queen made a point to say he was the first gypsy she had ever declared a knight, but to welcome him into her service.  Lance smiled and bowed deeply before spinning and twirling in a dance over to the others using some of the moves, he'd learned from the belly dancers. The crowd loved it and there was thunderous applause for the new knights.

 Lance slipped his arm around Keith's and snuggled into his shoulder, his face warm from the sun, but he was shivering a little in the evening breeze.  Keith smiled wrapping his arm around him and pulling him closer.  They all walked out to the van a little sleepy in a dazed happy kind of way. Lance said something from under Keith's arm, but he couldn't quite make it out.

 "What?" He murmured into Lance's hair.

 "Did you have fun?"  Lance looked up at him, so worried and hopeful that Keith's heart felt like it was going to beat right out of his chest.  

 "I did, you were right, Lance."  Keith smiled and was rewarded with the brightest beaming smile Lance had to offer.  He couldn't help but lean forward and press his lips to that smile.

 Lance laughed happily into the kiss.  Pidge made barfing sounds.

 "I think you mean Sir Lance, don't you Sir Keith?" Lance ignored Pidge's sounds and just snuggled in as close as possible.  

 "That must be what I meant."  Keith laughed.  "I think what I meant was no matter if you're a knight or a student or an old man, I'm going to love you no matter when."

 "Aw!" Lance wrapped his arms around Keith's neck.

 "That was very sweet Keith."  Allura patted his back and smiled as she walked by and got into the van.

 "You are so gross."  Pidge stuck her tongue out and climbed in.

 Hunk walked by with tears in his eyes and gave Keith two thumbs up.

 Shiro just smiled quiet like and nodded to him.

 They climbed into the van, Lance barely loosening his hold on him.  He curled into his side and was asleep before they were out of the parking lot.  Keith rested his head on Lance's and found his own eyes drifting closed.  It had been a very good day.

 For a visual idea on Keith's costume:

 From <https://www.bing.com/images/search?view=detailV2&ccid=PHJGFRWx&id=6B806DC18E93F94C684B93FEADD4C1A346A9334D&thid=OIP.PHJGFRWxGEuk9mrwRxP-HQAAAA&mediaurl=http%3a%2f%2fimgs.inkfrog.com%2fpix%2fgdalsf%2fRoyal_Court_Doublet.jpg&exph=600&expw=378&q=Renaissance+Faire+Costumes+Men&simid=608009201531359138&selectedIndex=7&mode=overlay>

  For an idea on Lance's costume:

 From <https://i.pinimg.com/originals/32/7b/27/327b27ea213a54b5226cce02ec4449d7.jpg>

 Visual Aid for Hunk:

 From <https://i.pinimg.com/originals/c6/e9/98/c6e9986404368183e7ca2883cd9fb35c.jpg>

  Visual Aid for Pidge:

 From <https://i.pinimg.com/736x/5d/d1/3f/5dd13f742963d767cac4a7bc31fdf736--viking-warrior-warrior-women.jpg>

  Visual Aid for Shiro and Allura:

 From <https://i.pinimg.com/736x/b8/25/ed/b825edbf9f723ca45349eef860b1a302--renaissance-clothing-renaissance-fashion.jpg>

#monthlyklance #klance #fluff #voltron fanfic

[rosieclark]

Numb (Plangst oneshot)

Lance’s footsteps pounded through the hallways of the Galra cruiser. Although the others had stayed behind to give him cover, he wasn’t sure how much time he had.

“Pidge!” Lance called out. “Pidge where are you?”

“What do you mean she’s gone?” Lance rounded on Shiro. “You were supposed to protect her!”

“You think he didn’t try?” Keith countered. “Don’t you think he feels bad enough?”

Hunk came over, and wrapped an arm around Lance. “Don’t worry buddy. We’ll get her back.”

That had been a week ago. Fear tugged at his gut. What if he was too late? As he rounded the corner, he stopped to see three galra centuries blocking his pathway, blasters in hand. Lance rolled to cover, and pulled out his bayard, the Altean weapon morphing into a shotgun. Shots singed the wall beside him and Lance fires twice. Silence follows. He poked his head out from behind the metal beam.

Two galra fighters lie motionless on the ground, the third just standing there. That's why they call me the sharpshooter, he thinks smugly to himself. Wanting to avoid possible bloodshed, Lance approached, the third soldier wearily. The galra turned to look at him.

“Hi.” Lance raised a hand in greeting. “Can you point me to the prison cells?” The galra looked at him, his head cocked. “You see, I’m looking for the love of my life, Pidge. Maybe you’ve seen her? Nerdy, big coffee eyes, messy hair, short, weird gre-”

“Who are you calling short Tailor?” Lance almost dropped his bayard. The galra took of his, no wait, her mask.

“Katie?” Lance ran to the small girl, wrapping his arms around her tightly. He felt her stiffen at his touch. He drew back, his worried eyes scanning her for injuries.

“Lance.” Pidges eyes lacked their usual sparkle, and her voice was cold. As much as she wanted to hold him, it would be unfair on her part. She took a step back, bracing herself for what she had to do next. “Fight me.”

Lance let out a bark of laughter. “Fight you?” He grabbed her hand. “After I just got you back? No way Jose. We have to get back to the castle.”

“I’m not going back to the castle.” Lance stopped.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Pidge put her hands on her blaster, swallowing her fear. Her regret. “I’m not going back to the castle.” The blue paladin let out an uneasy laugh.

“That’s not funny babe. Lets go before reinforcements come.” He looked at her expectantly, hiding the fear that was creeping in.

“I’m sorry Lance.” Pidge grunted. Her hands shook as she aimed at Lace’s chest, and fired.

Lance thanked the gods for his quick reflexes. As Pidge’s laser shot at him, he jumped to the side, confusion and worry filling his head. “Katie, what the hell?”

Pidge grimaced. She had missed. She aimed again. Lance was staring at her, blue eyes the size of dinner plates, hands extended in a plea for her to stop. “I’m sorry Lance, I have to do this.”

Bullshit. Lance knew it, and she did too. As she fired again, Lance wondered what the galra had over her head. What they were using as leverage. Before she could shoot at him again, he tackled her to the ground, pinning her beneath him.

“What is it?” He asked, concern written all over his face. She struggled beneath him. “Is it new technology? Did they threaten us? You?” Pidge shook her head, her eyes lined with silver. “Your dad?” Her silence has the only answer he needed. He brought up a hand to caress her face. “Don’t worry Pidgeon. He’s going to be fine, I promise.”

A look of shock crossed Pidge’s face. In the blink of an eye, she brought her knee up, hitting him in the groin. Lance let out a grunt of pain. Pidge slipped out from under him and stood, her blaster at the ready.

“No, he’s not.” Her voice sounded hoarse and broken. As if she knew something he didn’t. “They made sure I could hear. Every scream that broke from his mouth as they snapped his fingers one by one. Making sure he’ll never code again.” Lance stared at the girl before him, at the horrors flooding her vision. He had no idea. She continued, her voice getting smaller and smaller. “They burned out his eyes Lance, his eyes. And all the while, they told me, you can stop this Katie. You can end his pain. All you have to do is ki-” Her voice broke on that last word. She looked up at Lance, sorrow in her face. Lance nodded.

“All you have to do is kill your fellow paladins.” Pidge shook with silent sobs, taking a moment to regain her composure. Lance smiled weakly. His blue orbs were filled with understanding.

Slowly, the blue paladin lowered his arms, and relaxed his stance. He knew what he had to do. There was no way in hell he would hurt her. Pidge’s eyes widened.

“Lance, what are you doing?” There was a slight tremble in her voice. Dread crept its way into her stomach as Katie realized what he was thinking. Lance put his bayard down. He knelt on his knees and looked Pidge straight in the eyes.

“I’m not going to fight you Katie.” The words hit her like a brick wall. She couldn't do this. Not if he was defenseless. Not when she knew he could easily overpower her. Pidge swallowed, tears filling her honey eyes. She wiped them away, taking a step forwards.

“Put your hands back up Lance. This isn’t a joke!” She slapped him across the face. Her tears were falling freely. ”God damnit Lance, fight back!” Pidge shouted.

“No.” His chest clenched seeing her like this. He wanted to hold her, and tell her he would be okay, and that everything would be fine, but he couldn’t. He just stared.

Pidge fired a shot just above his shoulder. No reaction.

“Please.” Barely more than a broken whisper. Lance smiled sadly, and shook his head.

“It’s okay Katie. I’ll be okay.” He closed his eyes, and waited, his decision made.

I’m sorry, Katie thought. I wish we could have had more time. I wanted to travel to the edge of the universe with you.

“Katie?” Lance’s voice dragged her out of her thoughts.

“Yeah?”

“Can you count down for me?” Pidge furrowed her brow. A countdown? “I just…” Lance waved his arms around, looking for an explanation. “I hate not knowing.” Pidge swallowed roughly. Her bottom lip trembled.

“Yeah, I can do that.” It was the least she could do. Lance smiled at her, his blue eyes twinkling with unshed tears.

“Thanks.” As Lance leaned back on his heels, Katie crushed her lips to his. So many unspoken words were passed as their tongues twirled, and their teeth clashed. Their tears mixed. Slowly, she drew away, standing up.

Arms trembling, Katie Holt lowered her mask, and raised her blaster.

“Ten”

“Come on Pidge! We’re going to be late!” Lance yelled over his shoulder.

“It’s not my fault I have short legs!” Pidge panted, already out of breath. Lance sighed and turned, facing his fellow paladin. In one fell swoop, he picked her up over his shoulder, and started running again.

“Hey!” Pidge let out a cry of protest, kicking her legs. “Put me down!” Lance was glad she couldn’t see his smirk.

“Nope!” Pidge squealed as Lance spun her around once before continuing to run to the castle.

“Nine”

Pidge had always seen Lance as “just a friend”. When they had first met at the Garrison, she had found him annoying and obnoxious. The very person she would have wanted to steer clear of. But, as time went on, she found herself drawn into an incredibly unique friendship with the blue paladin.

“Oh come on Pidge, you’ll do great!” Pidge was biting her lower lip, and staring at her toes. She really didn’t want to go on stage. Coran had organized yet another “Informational Gathering”, as he called it. Basicly, everyone had to deliver a speech in pairs. She was stuck with Lance.

“I don’t wanna.” Pidge mumbled. “Their going to laugh at me.” Lance chuckled.

“No they won’t. Pidge, you’re the smartest person I know. When you talk about technology, your eyes get this shine to them, and you look so beautiful.” He flashed her a dimpled smile. “Come on. Lets go rattle the stars.”

Pidge had always thought of Lance as a friend. Or at least, she did. Staring at Lance with his blue eyes shining, teeth grinning, and hand extended, she felt her heart take a double take.

Oh quiznak.

“Eight”

Lance was sure Pidge was avoiding him. She skipped on their late night video game sessions, their one on one training, and even stopped feeding Kaltenecker with him. He didn’t think he would miss her, but he did.

“I don’t know what to do Hunk!” Lance exclaimed into his pillow later that night.

“Just give her time.” Hunk replied, happily munching on his latest creation. “I’m sure she’s not mad, and it’s just a big misunderstanding.”

“Sure.” Lance groaned, not convinced. “Time.”

“Seven”

“Pidge, why have you been avoiding me?” Pidge stopped mid-step, and turned slowly.

“I haven’t Lance, I’ve just been super busy.” Lance snorted, and crossed his arms.

“Yeah right. Super busy for the past four months. What did I do?” Pidge felt her chest clench slightly. She sighed, and slumped against the wall.

“Nothing Lance, you did nothing.”

“Then why won’t you speak to me?”

“Because I-” She took a deep breath. “Because I might like you’re stupid face.” Lance looked like he was hit by a car. “And I know you’ll never feel the same way about me, so let's just forget this conversation never happened.” She hurried on. Lance was still gaping when she turned and left, barely containing the tears until she reached her room.

“Six”

“Pidge, we have to get out of here, now!” Shiro yelled over the coms. Pidge swore under her breath,

“I need five more minutes.” There was screaming and shooting all around her. The loading bar was at ninety eight percent.

“Pidge! Behind you!” The green paladin turned at Keith’s warning, just in time to see a galra soldier fire his blaster. She turned away, bracing her body for impact. It never came. Opening her eyes, she saw Lance, armor pierced by the laser meant for her.

Pidge paced by the healing pod. That stupid idiot was going to get himself killed. Why did he take that shot for her? Why would he do that? She was jerked out of her thoughts by the hiss of the pod sliding open.

“Pidge?” Lance murmured. Pidge ran over, and squeezed him tightly, breathing in his scent.

“Lance, you scared the quiznak out of me.” Her voice was muffled by his shirt. Pulling back, she held his face in her hands. “Why would you take that shot for me?”

Lance gave her a lazy smile, leaning into her touch.

“I think I might like your stupid face too.”

“Five”

“Guys, we have an announcement.” Lance looked nervously at Pidge, who nodded. “Pidge, no wait, Katie and I are dating.”

“About quiznacking time” Said Keith, smirking at them.

“I’m so happy for you” Allura said, a huge smile forming on her lips.

“I thought it would never happen” Hunk got up to hug them,

“Dating? Is that like Altean Swamp Dancing?” Coran had asked with a confused look on his face.

Everyone turned to Shiro and Matt, the two that had remained silent. Lance gulped.

“I’m glad you sorted things out-,” Shiro began, flexing his muscles in a not so discreet way.

“But you hurt her, we hurt you” Matt finished, cracking his knuckles.

Pidge snorted.

“Four”

“Pidge?” The green paladin looked up from her coding, an eyebrow arched.

“Yes Lance?”

“I’m cold” Pidge rolled her eyes, and tried her best to look disappointed. Lance smiled.

“You’re such a dork.” “But I’m your dork” Pidge laughed as she put down her laptop. She lay on her side, Lance lying beside her. One of his arms was under her head, the other resting lazily on her waist. Their legs were tangled, and his chin was perched on her head. She inhaled deeply, breathing his sent, drifting off to sleep.

“Three”

Lance looked at Pidge, drowning in his jacket. Her hair was a mess, and her glasses were ascue, but to him, she never looked more beautiful.

“I love you.” Pidge blushed.

“I love you too.”

“Two”

“Katrina Holt, will you marry me?” Pidge gaped at Lance, on one knee, ring in hand. He was smiling at her. She smiled back.

“Of course you dummy.”

“One.”

Lance closed his eyes, and readied himself. Mama, papa, gracias for todo.

Pidge choked out a sob, her finger on the trigger. Imsorrylanceimsorryimsorryimsorr-

Bang, bang, bang ,bang. Four shots echoed through the hallway.

Lance opened his eyes. He felt his body, no sign of any injury. He looked at Katie. Or at where she should be standing. Instead, his eyes met Keith’s, the red paladin standing a few feet away, his steaming bayard in his hand. Dread filled Lance’s gut.

They say when you lose something dear to you, time slows down. For Lance, it stopped completely. An eerie silence filled his head as he looked down. There, on the floor was Pidge. His Pidge. There was blood seeping from under her. Her small body was convulsing with each laboured breath she took. Her mask still covered her face. Lance couldn’t move. He could only watch in horror as Pidge stopped moving. As her chest rose, fell, and didn’t rise again. All at once, time caught up with him. He let out an anguished cry.

“What were you doing?” Keith was yelling at him. “Just kneeling and waiting for some Galra scum to kill you?”

The snarl Lance let out was nothing human. Keith actually took a step back.

“What the fuck did you do?” Lance’s eyes were filled with pure rage. Keith gave him a confused glare.

“I just saved your fucking life. Don’t thank me or anything.” His voice was heavily laced with sarcasm.

“You think you saved my life? Well you just ruined it!” Lance crawled to where Pidge lay, and gently removed her helmet. Her skin was pale, a trickle of blood making it’s way down her chin.  He could hear Keith dry heaving, swearing under his breath.

“Katie,” Lance’s voice was hoarse. “Don’t be dead.” The girl remained unmoving, red staining her galra armour. Lance shook her. “Katie, baby, please. Don’t leave me alone, I can’t do this without you.” The girl in her arms stared into space, unseeing. Lance shook with rage and grief. He buried his head in the crook of her neck, her cold skin pressing against his tear stained cheek.

“Lance?” A hand touched his shoulder, and he flinched. Keith’s voice was grief stricken. “Lance, I didn’t know. I just thought that sh-”

“Get away from me.” Lance growled. He stood up, picking up Pidge’s body with him, and began walking to the lions. How he didn’t run into any galra soldiers was anyone's guess. Lance doubted he would have felt if he was shot. A cold sensation was making its way through his body.

Lance was unfeeling.

Unliving.

Numb.

#pidge #lance #plance #plangst #angst #death

[i-write-shakespeare-not-disney]

How to Raise a Venus Flytrap- a Klance fic

Read on AO3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/13640370

Hope Less Romantics-

For many, love at first sight was real. Though, in turn that meant hate at first sight was real too. Having that pass between the same two people? Well that was just life being a cruel bitch, as usual.

The day Lance and his band came in to perform at the café just a block away from the college he attended, he’d laid eyes on the most beautiful person he’d ever seen. He was slender, with a sharp jawline, a light outline of muscles along the sleeves of his shirt, and a mess of black hair just long enough to make a ponytail at the nape of his neck. His eyes were angular and he had beautifully defined cheekbones. Ever the romantic, Lance could only describe the feeling as love at first sight.

He was standing behind the counter, taking orders and offering insincere smiles. His eyes had flitted over to where he stood with the others, his eyes falling to the instruments around them. Lance had watched as a dark eyebrow arched curiously before he returned his focus to the drink he was making.

Pidge was setting up her drums and twirling her drumsticks with her fingers, not even worried about the performance. Hunk was fixing him amp and tuning his electric guitar. Matt, Pidge’s brother, was chugging a bottle of water and humming under his breath. Lance was the only one who seemed to be nervous about the performance. And it wasn’t just because of the cute barista.

He gripped his bass and took a deep breath, going over the songs in his head. The café was usually full of teens and college students, so he figured the punk rock would go over well. And maybe he could impress that barista enough to get his number.

It was about time he moved on from Nyma. They’d broken up six months ago, but Lance still found himself writing songs revolving around her, part of him wanting her back, part of him hoping she burned in hell like the she-demon she was. He groaned and ran a hand through his hair, clearing his head.

He looked up and saw the barista smirking mockingly at him before rolling his eyes. Lance felt his face turn red, but he brushed it off. So much for coming off as the cool bassist.

“Come on dude, we only get an hour to perform,” Matt said, nudging him toward the platform at the corner of the café. “Did you do your vocal warm-ups?” Lance nodded even though he hadn’t. “Sure you did.”

Pidge repositioned her glasses to rest at the top of her head and sat at the drums with a sigh of relief. “Home sweet home,” she said with a smile. “Hey, Lance maybe you’ll get some numbers today. Everyone’s into band members.”

“Something tells me Matt’s going to be the one getting all the numbers.”

“And here I thought we were doing this to get the band recognized, not for dating,” Hunk said with a snort.

“Okay, hey everyone! We’re going to be performing some original songs for you today. I’m Matt, that’s Hunk, Lance, and Katie.” There were a few whoops from some girls for Pidge who smirked triumphantly. “We hope you like the songs. We’re Worshipping Wednesday and this first song is called Better When.”

Lance took a deep breath and listened to Pidge counting a beat with her sticks before he felt himself narrow in, focusing on the strings of his bass and the rhythm of the song. He sang along with Matt, his fingers moving out of memory rather than thought.

When the song was over, applause filled the café and Lance looked up to see a few impressed expressions. There were a few girls whispering and glancing at them as Matt introduced the next song, which somehow fueled the excitement in Lance. When the next song started, he could help but smirk when he caught one girl biting her lip as she watched him. He winked and watched her blush, turning to her friends. The nervousness was gone, and it was quickly being replaced by a sense of belonging.

He was on stage just like he’d dreamed of being when he was little, jumping around on his bed to Guns N’ Roses songs. And if he was totally honest, he loved the attention. It made him feel… almost powerful. He felt confident and at ease.

Then he saw the barista behind the counter with earphones on. Lance frowned and focused on singing, occasionally looking over at the guy who seemed unfazed by the music, bobbing his head along to whatever was playing in his ears instead. And Lance only knew that because between songs, the guy would still be mouthing words and nodding his head, stopping only when someone went up to order something.

Once their hour was up, Lance soaked up the applause and whistles that filled the café. He watched as people started to leave, having stayed to hear the music and felt even better. One girl went up Matt and he heard Pidge snort when the girl started twirling her hair and blushing. Meanwhile, she and Hunk started packing up their things.

“You guys want a coffee or anything?”

“I could go for a green tea,” Pidge said.

“I’m good,” Hunk answered.

Lance nodded and went to the counter, frowning when he saw someone new taking over while the other guy took off his apron and started to leave the café with a two fingered salute at the new guy taking orders.

The performing became a weekly thing. By the third week, Lance was determined to talk to the cute barista, partially because Pidge kept teasing him for staring, but also because the guy seemed unreachable. He’d watch them setting up, but Lance never got a chance to go up to him, because Matt had them perform immediately, and when it was over, the guy was leaving.

Fueled by the two girls that had previously given him their numbers, he decided that for the fourth time, he’d get there earlier and talk to the guy. There wasn’t a very long line, so he walked over and waited patiently for his turn.

Lance leaned against the counter and smiled brightly at the guy. “Hey. The name’s Lance.”

The guy blinked once and nodded. “I know. I had you for rhet and comp two last semester. Where’s the rest of your crew?”

“Ah, I decided to get here a little earlier. Get a chance to talk to the cutie behind the counter.” He narrowed his eyes and Lance felt his breath stop when he realized this guy had… violet eyes. What kind of Elizabeth Taylor fantasy…? He cleared his throat and tilted his head. “You got a name or a number?”

The guy scowled and Lance stood up straight. There was a slight possibility this guy wasn’t into guys, but Lance had based himself solely on the rainbow colored bracelet around his pale wrist. “Keith. It’s on my name tag,” he answered. “Are you ordering anything or are you just going to keep dishing out shitty one-liners?”

“Alright, easy,” Lance said. “Didn’t mean to piss you off. Sorry if I assumed.”

“That’s not the problem.” Lance sputtered, but Keith huffed and glared at him. “If you’re not ordering, get out of line.”

“A caramel frap,” he answered back, just to have the last word.

“Size?” Lance smirked, and Keith took a sharp breath. “Jesus Christ. Forget it, that’s $5.89.”

Lance handed over six dollars. “Keep the change, Mullet.”

Violet eyes flashed angrily, and Lance would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy that just as much as he would’ve enjoyed getting his number.

Pidge, Matt, and Hunk came into the café while Lance waited on his drink to be called. It wasn’t called, but Lance saw it on the counter and scoffed at the pettiness of the barista. He went to get his drink and saw Keith raise an eyebrow almost daring him to comment. Lance smiled and nodded, taking his frap.

This could be a fun game.

The next week, Lance got there early again and leaned against the counter with a smirk, much to Keith’s annoyance. “Hey, Mullet. You in a better mood today?”

“That depends, are you going to be less annoying?” he snapped.

Lance pouted and winked. “Can I get an iced white mocha? With your number on the side of the cup like those rom com movies?”

“Fuck off,” Keith muttered. He charged Lance and ignored him after that.

When Lance went to get his drink, he noticed Keith searching his pockets with frustration. “Whatcha looking for? Pen for your number?”

“You wish,” he said with a roll of his eyes. “I usually have earphones to block out your shit music, and I don’t have them.”

Lance hummed at the insult, but brushed it off with a smile. “Don’t worry, Mullet, I’ll put on an extra-special performance for you.” He winked in response to the middle finger Keith showed him.

Sure enough, Lance sang with teasing vigor and sang directly to the barista, ignoring the way he seemed to scoff and make fun of the lyrics. He actually snorted and covered his mouth at one line in a song that said, “I’m incapable of love but I’ll give you the next best thing.”

When the song was over, Keith grimaced and shook his head, pointedly mouthing, seriously?

Lance rolled his eyes. He wasn’t sure if this was Keith’s way of bickering flirting, but despite his poking fun at his lyrics, he couldn’t seem to take it to heart.

It wasn’t until the next song that he felt his mood slip. He remembered writing this song for Nyma just before they started playing at the café. He was especially heartbroken when he worked on it, and each time he sung it, he missed her a little more.

“It’s been six months since I heard from you, thought I’d drop a line-” Lance cut off, letting Matt finish the line.

Suddenly, he was remembering those moments with Nyma. The way her flirting was sort of like Keith’s- if that’s what it was. She always teased him and soothed the sting with kisses. God, Lance wanted to hate her. He wanted to stop caring about her, he wanted to stop looking for her. And wh the hell did Matt decide to even play this one? He knew how Lance got with this stupid song. He sang the chorus through clenched teeth, hating how accurate it still was.

She still appeared in his dreams, and he still relished those moments of distant, dream-fuzzy kisses even though when he woke up, he wanted nothing more than to forget her.

It’s been seven months. Why couldn’t he move on?

Because he hadn’t been prepared to lose her. He hadn’t been prepared to let her go. He hadn’t wanted to.

Even when he walked into the apartment they’d shared just off campus and he’d seen her pressed against the wall in some other guy’s arms. Even when the first thing out of her mouth when she realized he was there was, “Lance, you’re supposed to be in class!” Even when he sort of already knew she was messing around with someone else.

He still hadn’t wanted to let her go. Because he loved her and she was supposed to be his one and only. She’d met his mom, for crying out loud.

When the song was over, Lance unstrapped his bass and hopped off the stage, heading to the bathroom without a word. He heard Matt say they were taking a break. He splashed his face with cold water and tried not to think of Nyma.

When he went back out, the band was packed and Pidge was looking at him with a reassuring smile, while Hunk looked at him with more of a worried expression. He looked at Matt and scoffed.

“What the hell, man? You didn’t even warn me!”

“I didn’t think it’d bug you! I’m sorry.”

Lance rolled his eyes and ran his hand through his hair. “Yeah. I’m gonna get out of here.”

“Lance, I’m sorry-”

“Yeah, it’s cool. Whatever.” He grabbed his things and walked out, heading for the apartment he now shared with Hunk. He’d been the one helping him with his broken heart after the break up, and Lance didn’t have the heart to send Nyma packing. Partially because he didn’t want to do that to her, but also because he couldn’t fathom living in the space she’d cheated on him in.

He left his guitar and his amp, then left again, walking around the neighborhood, journal in hand and a pen tucked behind his ear. The sun was still setting. Lance knew he had some homework, but he was ahead enough that he didn’t have to worry about that just yet. Instead he went to the bus stop nearby and started jotting down couplets and quatrains for a new song, scratching out words and phrases and scribbling in new ones, using arrows to relocate and shift them. His first drafts were always messy.

Occasionally, he’d leave a small doodle to base some lyrics off of. A pair of eyes, a disproportioned hand, a flock of flying birds, a silhouette of some unnamed person, sometimes Nyma’s name. He particularly enjoyed scratching her name out. And drawing horns on top of the block of scribbles. Bitch.

Finally, with a song that went nowhere and a page filled with more scratched out lines than usable lyrics, he slammed the journal shut and pulled his phone out to listen to music.

Maybe it was stupid and pathetic. But for the last seven months, stupid and pathetic seemed to be all Lance could do. So he couldn’t bring himself to stop the tears that filled his eyes.

--

The following week, Lance made a detour to the library on campus for a research paper he had to do. While he was searching through bookshelves for the right section, he heard a bubbly laugh, a little too loud for a library even though it was relatively empty anyway.

He looked over and raised an eyebrow when he saw Keith in normal clothes. Well, sort of normal. He was dressed in all black and had a red zip-up sweater open over a black Bon Iver shirt. He was talking to one of the student library helpers, waving as the former walked away.

“Wow, I almost didn’t recognize you with that smile on your face,” Lance said, walking over to him.

Keith turned and scowled when he saw Lance. “Yeah, I almost didn’t recognize you either. Your mouth was shut.”

Lance scoffed and gave him a cocky smile. “That hurts, Mullet.”

“Really? Why don’t you go write a song with cheesy metaphors about it?” Lance frowned and crossed his arms. When he was quiet for too long, Keith looked over at him and smirked. “What?”

Lance stepped closer and smiled when he saw Keith’s smile falter as he pressed closer to the books behind him. “I really get you all riled up, huh?” Keith scowled up at him, violet eyes dark and angry. “You know, if this were a movie, this would be where I kiss you and make you acknowledge the huge crush you have on me.”

“That’s pretty cocky for a guy that looks like a Mexican rag doll.”

Lance stepped back, grimacing. “I’m Cuban.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, did my assumption offend you?” Keith turned away, grabbed a book, and then left Lance to stand alone like an idiot.

Okay, so it wasn’t flirting.

He left the library, feeling slightly off put, but unable to really bring himself to give up on Keith. Maybe the guy did hate Lance, but….

Lance didn’t hate him. Even if all of their interactions had been filled with Keith insulting him…. Maybe Lance was a masochist. Maybe he had a humiliation kink. What else could be the reason behind his pining after people that made fun of him and had the potential to make him feel like shit?

Still, there was something about Keith…. Something in the solemn, wary look in his eyes. And honestly, his laugh was such a nice sound, and Lance wanted the chance to be the reason behind it. It was obvious Keith wasn’t a dick to everyone he met. He was polite to the strangers that ordered at the café, and he seemed to get along with the library helpers. It was just with Lance that he seemed to have no mercy or regard for feelings.

That should’ve put him off, but instead, it made him more eager.

He left the library after getting what he needed, and soon found himself scribbling lyrics into the margins of what were supposed to be his notes. For once, they weren’t heartbroken or lovesick. They were playful and light, and… Lance thought they had some serious potential. He highlighted them to remember to jot them down in his journal, then tried to focus on his homework.

During one of his breaks, he went online checking his newsfeed. His family was watching a soccer game. His friends from high school were posting pictures of their babies or of their nights out drinking. His current friends were sharing articles from Buzzfeed or promoting the Fall play.

Then there, in the margin, was a familiar face. Unable to ignore his curiosity, he clicked on Keith’s profile and hummed when he saw a lot of basic information was available to the public. He had a blurry profile picture where he seemed to be drinking at SXSW. His banner was a landscape picture of some place with several European looking building, mountains, and bright green trees. He’d have thought it was a screensaver default if not for the detail that Keith was standing on something and staring out at the scene in the middle of the picture.

His likes were available, advertising lots of bands Lance hadn’t heard of and nonfiction books. The page listed his birthday, his relationship status (single), his job (Jo’s Café), and his education (graduated from a high school in Houston that Lance recognized and attending the same college of course).

Okay, this was verging on stalker territory. The question in small font at the top teased Lance. Do you know Keith? To see what they share with friends, send them a friend request!

Lance wondered if the them was a generalized them or if Keith was non-binary or something. He also knew that sending a friend request now would be stupid, because there was no way Keith would add him back. Not to mention, he’d probably wonder how Lance had found him. And it’s not like Lance would have the chance to say Hey, we go to the same school, so you came up on my People You May Know list!

Well, he could, but then it’d show he was trying to hard or cared too much. And he was trying not to let Keith know that.

Instead, Lance took to checking out the bands Keith seemed to like.

Granted, with the way Keith carried himself- themselves?- indie music was the last thing Lance expected to connect with Keith. He’d figured Keith would be more into rock- either classic 80s or that alternative stuff like Green Day and Fall Out Boy. Did those count as alternative? Whatever.

The point was… these songs were a lot softer, filled with deeper metaphors and gentle sounds and free-spirited lyrics. They were the kind of music you could have in the background without it bothering you or the kind you could spend hours listening to over and over to decipher. It was interesting to say the least.

Lance saw Keith around campus a few more times during the week, but never close enough to start a conversation. So he waited until the weekend when they were supposed to perform again. This time, Matt had gone over the songs with Lance, who gave him the thumbs up.

Just as he was about to leave for the café, Pidge and Matt came into the apartment.

“Why do you always leave earlier?” Matt asked.

“He’s hitting on the barista, that’s why,” Pidge answered, smirking at Lance. “Have you gotten anywhere with that?”

“It’s complicated,” he answered.

Hunk snorted and shook his head. “Dude, I have the guy for class on Tuesdays and Thursdays. He’s a nice guy. Just go for it.”

“He’s nice to you?” Lance questioned. “All he does is insult me.”

“Could be playing hard to get?” Matt offered.

“Uh, no,” Pidge answered. “No one this day and age acts mean to play hard to get. Especially if a person is inherently nice. I’ve gone into the café to study and he’s completely polite to me.”

“Then what gives?” Lance whined.

She rolled her eyes and looked at him in exasperation. “Maybe consider the obvious? He probably just doesn’t like you.”

“That’s harsh, Pidge,” Hunk said.

She sighed and shrug. “I’m not gonna sugarcoat it! Just forget about him.”

But Lance felt agitated now. “No. I mean, I didn’t do anything to him. Why would he be such an asshole to me and nice to everyone else? I didn’t do anything to make him not like me!” Lance thought of the backhanded insults he’d been given and felt even more defeated. It wasn’t fair. He deserved answers.

“Alright, why don’t we go ahead and head over? I could use a hot chocolate anyway,” Matt said, patting Lance reassuringly on the back.

When they arrived at the café, Lance looked over to the counter and saw Keith making three drinks at once, moving quickly and efficiently. He walked over and stood in line, waiting his turn. He saw as Keith’s polite smile fell the second he saw him.

“You’re like clockwork,” he muttered. “So what’s it going to be today? Save the shitty one-liner.”

“I literally haven’t said anything,” Lance pointed out.

“It’s a precaution.”

Lance huffed and pulled out six dollars. “Raspberry Italian soda with cream.” Keith nodded wordlessly and Lance walked away, feeling put off and confused.

Later, once they were performing, Lance could actually feel the anger washing over him after every soft, polite smile Keith gave the strangers that ordered. Each one was met with a smile. It wasn’t real- not like when Lance found him laughing in the library. But it wasn’t an exhausted scowl. It made Lance antsy.

He was a nice guy. He talked too much sometimes, and his jokes weren’t always the best, and yeah he used really cheesy one-liners, but he didn’t think that warranted such vicious behavior from a guy he barely knew.

Once their hour was up, Lance started packing up. Then he saw Keith leaving the café, and he left his equipment alone, letting Hunk know he’d be back.

He rushed out, tugging on his jacket as he followed after Keith. “Hey!” Keith turned, and Lance heard him groan. He didn’t stop walking, ignoring Lance. Lance jogged to reach him and called his name again. “Dud, what gives?” he snapped.

“What are you talking about?” Keith asked, turning to fix him with an aggravated expression.

“I’m talking about the fact that everyone says you’re this nice guy, but you’ve been nothing but a dick to me.”

Keith’s mouth fell open and he scoffed. “You’re joking right?”

“No! I don’t get it. Why do you hate me so much? I never did anything to you, and all you’ve done is insult me. I thought it was some quirky way of flirting, but then you just….” He shrugged, letting his hands fall to his sides. “I don’t get why you have to be such an ass to me.”

Keith stepped closer to him and looked him in the eyes. “You’re serious,” he noted. Lance rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. “You want to know why I’m such an asshole to you? Because the first thing you do when you talked to me was hit on me. You couldn’t even bother to ask me my name properly. And you just kept up this ridiculous faux confidence player act! You didn’t know when to quit and you were cocky and so fucking full of yourself. You gave a shitty first impression. So yeah, my immediate response to you is to say what it takes to get you to leave me the fuck alone.”

Lance stepped back, feeling hurt and… stupid. “I just wanted to get to know you.”

“Then ask to be my friend! Talk to me without hitting on me or looking at me like I’m something to eat!” Keith scoffed and shook his head. “And that condescending little thing you do, where you make it seem like getting hit on by you is the best thing that could happen to someone? Stop that. You’re feeding into the stupid male bravado-”

“Alright, I get it! Jeez. I didn’t even…. I didn’t realize I was coming off that way.” Keith grit his teeth and stared at him. “I’m sorry. I really am. I didn’t know I was making you uncomfortable or… acting like a stupid frat boy.” He sighed and held up a finger. He turned away from Keith then turned again to face him. “Hi. I’m Lance. What’s your name?”

Keith regarded him. He stayed quiet for a moment then sighed. “I know. I had you for rhet and comp 2 last semester. I’m Keith.”

“Cool.” He stuffed his hands in his jacket pockets and smiled. “So what did you think of the band?”

Keith smiled, relenting and looked away. “A little generic, but pretty good. Catchy songs.”

“Oh, cool. I write the lyrics. You wanna meet the others? They’re my friends, they’re pretty cool.” Keith hesitated and Lance smiled. “If you have somewhere to be, that’s cool. Maybe next time?”

Keith looked at him with a surprised look. “I’ve got time.”

Lance broke into a full smile and Keith scoffed and looked away. Lance led him back to the café and led him over to where the others were sitting, drinking coffee. Pidge looked up and raised her eyebrows, looking shocked. “No fucking way.”

Lance gestured to them each in turn. “That’s Hunk, my roommate. That’s Matt and Katie- we call her Pidge- they’re brother and sister. Guys, this is Keith. We just met.”

“Wait, what are you talking about? He-”

“No, no, we just met. First time talking and everything,” he insisted.

Pidge looked confused and Keith gave her a smile. “He got a do-over,” he whispered. Pidge nodded, as if that made total sense. “Nice to meet you guys.”

“Nice to meet you too,” Hunk answered with a smile. Matt chuckled and nodded in agreement.

Lance turned to Keith and tilted his head questioningly. “Better?” he whispered.

“Much better,” he answered. Lance smiled triumphantly and Keith chuckled. A smile directed at Lance! “I need to catch my bus, so….”

“Do you want some company while you wait?”

Keith looked at Lance and shrugged. “Sure.” Lance followed him out and over to a bench a few feet away from the café. “So you don’t have a car?”

“I do. But the bus saves me money.” Lance nodded. “What are you studying?”

“English Writing. Don’t ask me what jobs I can get with that, I have no idea.”

Keith laughed, tilting his head back and Lance felt warm inside. “I won’t ask,” he assured. “You like writing, then?”

“Yeah. Song writing. Poems a bit. I’ve always wanted to write a book, but… I don’t really have any ideas.” Keith hummed and nodded. “What about you?”

“Psychology. Minor in French. I also have no clue what jobs I can get with that minor, but I had the credits halfway done.”

“French, huh? Fancy.” Keith snorted. “Why psychology?”

“It’s cheaper than paying to see an actual psychologist.” Lance looked at him in confusion and Keith smiled. “I’d explain, but you have to reach a level four friendship to unlock my backstory.”

“You stole that from the internet.”

“I did.” Keith smirked and shrugged. “So what made you start a band?”

Lance hummed and shrugged. “We’ve been friends for a while and I needed a distraction from heartbreak.”

This time, Keith looked at him in confusion. After a beat of silence, he asked, “Level four friendship?”

“Level four friendship,” Lance confirmed, keeping his details to himself. “But, I dunno, I’ve been told I use too many cliché metaphors in my lyrics.”

Keith groaned and it morphed into a pained chuckle. Then he seesawed his hand and shrugged. “Maybe a bit. They’re a little cheesy. What’s that one line…. Give them your bullets, they’ll hurt less when they throw them back? Yeesh.” Lance scoffed and felt himself blush. “It’s just… it’s a good song! There’s just…. Okay, you like poetry a little, right? It’s like using the whole, love is like a rose thing too much. You gotta… make things strange again. Look at them in a new way instead of the way you’re used to seeing them. You’re used to the love-rose connection. So step away from it. Find something else to connect it to. Maybe… hate is like a rose. Or maybe love is like a Venus fly-trap.”

“Huh,” Lance mused thinking those similes over. They did make a little more sense. And they were different. “I like that. Maybe you could help me on a song then. Help me… make it a little deeper. Different.”

“I’m not much of a song writer, but I can try,” he said with a smile. Smiles looked nice on him. The sound of an engine cut through the evening and Keith stood up. “That’s my bus. I guess… I’ll see you around campus, then.”

“Yeah. I’ll be sure to say hi. In a normal way.”

Keith smiled and his eyes sparkled in the setting sun. They left Lance kind of breathless. Then he turned to face the bus as it screeched to a stop. He got on, and Lance stood up, waving goodbye before going back to the café.

He slumped into a chair and sighed in content. His friends looked at him in confusion.

“Are you going to explain what that was all about?” Matt asked.

“Did you get his number?” Pidge asked. He shook his head.

“Did you ask him out on a date?” Hunk asked. He shook his head again. “So… what happened?”

Lance smiled and rested his chin in his hand. “I made a new friend.”

His friends shared uncertain expressions. Hunk patted his shoulder and Pidge shook her head mumbling something about how Lance has finally lost it. Matt just sipped his drink and shrugged it off. Meanwhile, Lance scribbled onto a napkin.

hate = rose

love = venus flytrap

purple = warmth

#klance #multichapter #fic #keith and lance #voltron #au #college au

[a-corndog-named-schibbs]

Prince in Disguise chapter 9

In which a very important truth is revealed.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8

Enjoy!

“I’m going to tell him.  Tonight.”

“Tell who what?” said Shiro, buttoning up his formal uniform.

“Lance.  I’m going to tell him who I am.”

“At the ball?  Won’t that be a bit of a shock for him?”

“No, after the ball,” said Keith.  It had been several days since his and Lance’s conversation and there was still an awful sense of heaviness in the air whenever they were together.  Keith hated it, wanted it gone.  And the only way to do that was to come clean.

Shiro nodded, “I think that’s a good idea.  You owe it to him to be honest.”  he smoothed out his uniform, “Almost ready?”

“Yeah,” said Keith, fastening the last few buttons of his own uniform.

“Then let’s go.  They’re probably waiting for us.”

They made their way to the ballroom, which was lavishly decorated for the party.  The chandeliers overhead glowed pink and blue, casting soft light across the room.  A buffet was set up along the wall, with servants offering hors d’oeuvres to the guests.  Dignitaries from every known planet mingled with each other, all dressed to the nines.  On the stage, a small orchestra played lively music and a space had been cleared so that couples could dance.

Lance and Allura were waiting for their bodyguards near the entrance.  Allura looked lovely as always in a pink sleeveless gown, but Keith’s eyes were drawn to Lance, who was wearing a midnight-blue jacket embroidered with delicate patterns of silver and a flowing white cape draped over his shoulders.  He looked happier than he had in several days.

Shiro spoke first, “Happy birthday, princess.  And may I say, you look breathtaking tonight.”  He took Allura’s hand and gave it a chaste kiss.

Allura, clearly pleased with the attention, gave him a flirtatious smile, “You’re too kind, Shiro.”

“Ahem.”

Keith looked over at Lance, “Yes, my prince?”

“Aren’t you going to tell me that I look nice?”

Keith shrugged, “You’ve looked worse, I guess.”

Lance’s mouth dropped open in pretend offense, “Keith!  I ought to have you charged for treason!”

Keith smiled and took Lance’s hand, brushing his lips lightly against the fingers, “You look beautiful, my prince.  I’m sure you’re the envy of everyone here.”

“Much better.” said Lance.  He glanced at his sister, who was already deep in conversation with Shiro, talking about all the festivities that had taken place earlier in the day, “Come on, let’s find somewhere to talk.  I think my sister is a little…distracted right now.”

They crossed the ballroom, trying to find a relatively quiet corner where they could hear each other.

“You look better than I’ve seen you in days.” said Keith, once Lance picked a spot to his liking, “Did something good happen?”

“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking,” said Lance, “And I’ve just made an important decision.  I feel like a great weight’s been taken off of me.”

“That’s good to hear.” said Keith, “What was the decision?”

Lance grinned, “I’ll tell you later.  But first…” He held out his hand to Keith.

Keith stared at it, “Um…what are you…?”

“Dance with me.”

Keith could feel himself blushing, “Are you…are you sure that’s appropriate?  I mean…I’m your bodyguard and if people see us together…”

“I don’t care if they see.  Please, Keith?”

“I’m…also not that strong of a dancer.”

Lance gave him a soft smile, “Well, maybe you just haven’t found the right partner yet.”

Keith hesitated before giving Lance his hand.  Lance pulled him toward the center of the dance floor, where everyone in the room could see.  As Keith had predicted, people were staring, beginning to whisper…

“Don’t worry about any of them.” said Lance, “You and I are the only ones that matter right now.”  He placed one hand on Keith’s waist and held up his hand with the other one, “Here, I’ll lead.  Just follow my movements.”

True to his word, Lance was an excellent dancer.  He glided across the floor with an uncanny grace.  And, to Keith’s relief, it made following him easier.  Keith had never been skilled at his dance lessons, but stepping in time with the rhythm Lance set, picking up on the small signals he sent him to prompt a turn, a dip, made it feel like dancing came naturally to him.  And best of all, the rest of the ballroom’s occupants all blurred together as Lance twirled him across the floor, allowing Keith to forget they were there.

As the orchestra ended their set, Lance slowed them to a stop, leading Keith into a slight dip before righting him again.

“So, what do you think?” said Lance, “Was I the right partner?”

“Yes…yeah.” said Keith, cheeks still warm and not just from the exertion of dancing.

“I have to go mingle with the guests.” said Lance, giving his hand a squeeze, “But we’ll talk later, all right?”

Keith nodded and watched as Lance turned to introduce himself to the nearest dignitary, fondness filling his chest.

To his surprise, the party was actually enjoyable.  Lance was kept busy, conversing or dancing with the other guests, but every once in a while, he would glance over at Keith and give him a warm smile.  When he wasn’t actively watching Lance, Keith chatted with Shiro on the sidelines of the dance floor or snuck over to the buffet table where Hunk was working, to sample the appetizers laid out.

“You know those are for the guests, right?” said Hunk, raising an eyebrow in amusement.

“Are you gonna stop me?” said Keith, taking a bite of stuffed mushroom.

“Considering the food’s already in your mouth, I’d rather not.  Congratulations, by the way.”

“For what?”

“You know,” said Hunk, giving him a conspiratorial wink, “You and the prince.”

“I…what?  I don’t know what you’re…”

“You know you’re a bad liar, right?  Besides, I have no problem with it.  If it makes Lance happy, it makes me happy.”

“Well, then, I hope I can make the prince very happy.” said Keith.

His ears twitched slightly as they heard a familiar voice, high with mounting panic, rise above the din of the crowd.

“I told you no!”

Lance.

Keith immediately dropped his plate of food and shoved his way through the crowd to get to Lance.  The prince was near the center of the room, looking visibly upset, facing a tall man with white hair whose back was turned to Keith.  The man had a hand on his wrist and was gripping it tightly while Lance tried to wrench it away.

“I said I don’t want to dance.  Let go!”

“Hey!” said Keith, grabbing the man by the shoulder, “Get your hands off him!”  He yanked the man around to face him.

And his heart stopped.

“Well, well,” said Lotor, after a brief moment of confusion, “Isn’t this a pleasant surprise?”

Oh no.  Oh gods.

“Fancy meeting you here, of all places.  And I thought you were off training with the Blade.  Silly me.”

“Keith…” said Lance, quietly, apprehensively, “Do you know this man?”

“Oh, how rude of me.  Please, your highness, let me introduce myself.” Lotor gave Lance a mocking bow, “I am Prince Lotor of Daibazaal.  I’m surprised my…beloved cousin hasn’t mentioned me yet.”

“Cousin…what…?”

“Oh, he didn’t tell you about me?” Lotor turned towards Keith, “I’m disappointed in you, cousin.  Don’t you know it’s terribly wrong to keep secrets from your betrothed, Prince Akira?”

Keith felt like he’d been stabbed in the heart.  The look of disbelief, of absolute betrayal on Lance’s face turned his blood to ice water in his veins.

“Lance…” he said, desperate to salvage this, desperate to say something, anything that would make Lance stop looking at him like that.

“Is…Is it true?” said Lance, in a small shaky voice.

“Yes.” said Keith.

“You’re…you’re him?  Prince Akira?”

“Yes, I am.”

A sob escaped Lance’s throat.  He turned quickly and pushed his way through the crowd.

“Lance!  Lance, wait, I didn’t…” Keith reached out, grabbing Lance’s hand, trying to get him to stay.

“Don’t touch me!” Lance yelled, yanking his hand away and causing Keith to jump.  The crowd was staring now.  “How could you do this?”

“Lance, I can explain…”

But Lance was in no mood for explanations, “I trusted you!  I…” Suddenly his face hardened in anger, “You beast!  You’re even worse than I thought!”

Keith could feel tears gathering in his eyes, “Lance…please…”

“Never speak to me again, Prince Akira!” Lance whirled around and stormed out of the ballroom, the guests around him all whispering up a storm at the scene he had just caused.

Tears were rolling down Keith’s face.

“Well, that’s unfortunate.”

Keith turned sharply to face Lotor, who had the audacity to still look smug.

“Perhaps it’s for the best.” he said, shrugging, “After all, you really didn’t deserve someone as beautiful as Prince Lance…”

The next moment, Keith was tackling his cousin to the ground, pinning him with his weight and pummeling that stupid smug look off his face.  He wasn’t sure how effective his blows actually were, but watching Lotor’s expression change to one of pure, undiluted shock certainly made it worth it.

“Don’t…say…his…name…again!” said Keith, between punches, “Never mention him again, understand?!”

A pair of strong arms wrapped around Keith from behind and lifted him into the air.  Keith squirmed, trying to wriggle his way out of the stranger’s grip.

“Keith, stop!”

Shiro.

Keith stopped fighting long enough for Shiro to place his feet back on the ground.

“We need to get you out of here.  This looks bad.”

Keith allowed Shiro to grip his shoulder and steer him through the crowd, which, for once, helpfully parted for them, all the guests staring at the Galra bodyguard who had snapped and attacked a visiting royal.

Once they were out of the ballroom and in the hallway, Shiro turned to look him in the face.

“Are you okay?”

“I…” the tears were coming back in full force now, “I don’t…no…no, Shiro I’m not- I’m…I lost him…I lost him and he h-hates me and he’ll never…he’ll nev-“

Shiro said nothing, only nodded and pulled him into a hug.  Keith buried his face in his bodyguard’s shoulder and sobbed.

Chapter 10

#alternate chapter title: why this whole plan was abad idea #klance #and a little bit of shallura #keith #lance #altean lance #galra keith #my posts #my fanfictions #prince in disguise au

[thespace-dragon]

For the lovely @seamarmot ~ Thank you so much for commissioning me and special thanks to @girlskylark for the lovely banner :D

Summary: First, we have Lance, a new-minded corporate-worker for Voltron Inc., takes some much needed time off to find himself--on a reality tv show. Let's just say he's had better ideas than that.

Then we have Keith, who was only meant to be a stand-in, to get voted off super early in the show, but there was this one guy he butted heads with all time and the audience liked them? What kind of twisted reality show was this?

Well, turns out that Altea's Juniberries brings people together, no matter if they win an all paid for, expense-free wedding.

WC: 4559

AO3

“You ready?”

“I’ve been working behind the scenes for years—”

“But that doesn’t mean that you’re ready. So...you’re ready?”

“Yeah, I’m ready. Let’s do this.”

“Love you, babe.”

“Haha, love you too.”

. . .

The crowd applauded as Coran walked out onto the stage, smiling brightly and bowing with his typical flare.

“Welcome, ladies and gents! Are we all ready for today? I’ve got a great line-up!”

Cheers and whistles echoed through the showroom. Coran’s smile grew wider as he waved and greeted the few lucky viewers that got great seats up front.

“Today, I really have something special for you. All of you are big fans of the show Altea’s Juniberries, right?” The crowd cheered even louder than when Coran had first stepped out into the spotlight. “Well, then I am certain that all of you were happy that Mr. Garrett and Ms. Leon made it to the final round, am I right?” More cheers, with a few jeers mixed in as well.

Coran made a surprised face as he walked over to his chair and sat down. “Oh-ho? Some of you weren’t too happy about that.”

“No!”

“Bring back Keith and Lance!”

The show host chuckled. “I have a treat for all of you then. The show’s producers were kind enough to give us the details about what happened that fateful week, and—” There were gasps and whispers among the crowd. “—Now hold on, hold on. We know everything that happened, Director Shirogane was very cooperative with us and answered all of our questions. And—and… we have two very special guests that—after celebrating the newlywed Mr. and Mrs. Garrett-Leon's marriage, we have Keith Kogane and Lance Diaz, the runner-ups to Altea’s Juniberries!”

With a flourish of his hand, Coran waved the two of them onto the stage. Keith and Lance walked hand in hand, smiling and waving at the crowd as they cheered. Lance squeezed Keith’s hand as they took to the stage, both of them slightly nervous to be back in front of the camera again. Well, Lance craved this sort of attention, hence the reason why he was on reality tv multiple times. Keith had been a stand-in. Was supposed to be anyway.

They walked over to the love seat that was across from Coran, sitting down after shaking hands and giving the host brief hugs.

“Wow, Coran, I swear you tried to hype us up even more,” Lance laughed, “You’re getting all these good people’s hopes up.”

“Lance, Lance, Lance. Lance.” Coran shook his head and grinned at the two of them. “You can’t convince me or the people who came here to see you that you weren’t the sweetheart of the latest season of Juniberries.”

Lance reclined and smiled back, resting his arm on the back of the loveseat. "Oh? See I remember it being someone else."

“Really now?” Coran raised his eyebrows and laced his fingers together. “The votes say otherwise.”

“That’s only because he likes to pretend he’s modest,” Keith interjected, giving Lance a light jab in the ribs.

His partner scowled and ruffled his hair in retaliation. “What Keith is trying to say is, that I am modest, and he was actually the fan favorite last season.”

Coran nodded, agreeing with the two of them as they bickered back and forth for the opening few moments, making the crowd laugh and cheer. Lance was excellent at making Keith feel comfortable—Coran had overheard a tidbit between the two of them. As he watched them, he came to understand how they had become a top pick for the show, the two of them playfully poking at each other, each trying to get the other to lighten up. He enjoyed their banter; much different from simply jumping into all the questions and getting to the meat of everything.

But as they say, the show must go on.

“Alright, my boys,” Coran jumped in as Lance and Keith began to talk about random hypotheticals. “I think it’s time to get this show on the road, shall we?”

Keith pushed Lance away and turned to face Coran. “Sure, what do you want to know?”

Coran smiled and sat back in his chair, getting comfortable. “Well, for starters, why don’t you tell us how you started to date? What brought the two of you together in the show? Lance, why Keith? And why did you go with it, Keith?”

Keith glanced over at his partner. “Well, I don’t know about him but—”

“Nope, nono, I’ll go first. It would get all confusing if we don’t start from the beginning.” Lance waved his hands cutting him off. “Okay. So, It started like this…”

. . .

For the first week of Altea’s Juniberries, Lance was trying—trying—to get over the fact that Nyma dropped out of the show. It was totally last minute, and he got it, he truly did. But…but there was only so much he could do since he had no one here.

So, for like the first time ever, Lance was way out of his element. Normally he had someone here, but he couldn't rely on Hunk the whole time. And then there was this whole brooding contestant that was there too. To him, it totally didn't make any sense. Why would you join a reality tv show and not be into it? It totally blew his mind. But it was fine, everything was fine, he was totally fine.

He was, in fact, not fine.

But hey, he had some great eye candy to look at for the next month or so. This couldn’t be all bad right?

Wrong!

From the beginning, Lance and this guy, Keith, were literally shoved together at every turn. There was no partnering up with Hunk, no getting to know Allura, no even trying to be in the same room as Ezor or Narti or Lotor or Zethrid. Forget trying to talk to Honerva and “Zarkon” or whatever the fuck his name was, there was just no getting near that. (Thank god, the audience thought so too and voted them off almost instantly. Lance was pretty sure they were just in it for the prize money and not actually about building relationships, but it’s, you know, whatever.)

In the end, Lance decided to chance it and actually try to talk to the guy after some of the challenges.

Lance leaned against the counter where Keith was making his dinner and crossed his arms. “So…”

Keith side-eyed him and continued making his dinner. “What?”

“So, uh, why did you even join this show?”

Lance watched Keith plate his food before he turned and looked at Lance. “Why does it matter to you? All you do is complain about how bad I am at all this couples shit, and now you want to be buddy-buddy with me?”

“Alright, alright!” Lance threw his hands in the air in surrender. “Yeah, yeah, I know I was an ass earlier.”

Keith didn’t say anything in response to that, no reason to deny or agree. He took a bite of his food and waited for Lance to finish.

“I’m sorry for that, but uh…” Lance floundered a bit, screwing up his face and looking away before finally spitting it out. “Look, we can start over if you want. Seems like we are kinda stuck together in this for the time being, so we could, ya know, make the most of it?”

Keith ate his food, letting Lance stew for a bit while he enjoyed his dinner.

After an agonizing five minutes, Keith moved over to the sink and began to clean up. "Sure, why not? Not like we have anything to lose in this thing, do we?"

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Lance fist pump and beam at him. “So, does that mean we can stop hating each other, now? Cuz I really don’t wanna do that anymore. Just saying.”

Keith rolled his eyes. “Look, Lance, I never hated you. You were the one who made up the whole thing.”

“You didn’t really try to convince me otherwise.”

“And you were too wrapped up in that fallacy to even listen to me.”

Lance scrubbed at his face and sighed. “Okay, okay, fine. I was an asshole, and you never hated me. Got it, crystal clear here.”

Keith finished up his dishes and Lance just stood there waiting. By the time he was done, Keith felt like he could cut the tension with a knife. What was it about this guy that made everything like this? It was the same air as the stupid games they played.

“So… what now?” he asked, breaking the silence.

Lance shrugged, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "Dunno, we could go chill and just watch a movie? Play a video game? Doesn’t matter to me.”

“You got Netflix?”

“And Hulu, and a PSN account.”

Keith looked mildly impressed. “Fine by me, let’s go.”

. . .

Coran looked a little skeptical. “So, what you’re saying is, is that you technically didn’t start dating in the first weeks of the show? It took you that long?”

“Well, we were on a dating show, Coran,” Lance chuckled. He waved a hand around freely. “The whole idea of that show was to date. Didn’t matter how long it took.”

“You have me there, Lance. So, what was it about that moment, then?”

Lance shrugged. “Dunno, it was just one of those moments where you just sorta… know, ya know? Like, there’s really no explanation for it, I was looking for a friend first before diving into a relationship.”

“And you two managed to be friends before leaving the show?”

“I’d like to say so, all we did was hang out during those ‘dates’ the show put on.”

The show host nodded and turned to Keith. “And what about you? Any special moment for you?”

Keith shrugged. “As I was saying before Lance went off, it was when it like, I don’t know, the fifth or sixth week in and we still hadn’t been voted off?”

“You mean where we went to sudden death with Florona and Plaxum?”

“Yeah, that week.” Keith sat back and crossed his legs, fiddling with his thumbs. “We were in the middle of an argument…”

. . .

“That is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard! What do you mean by that?”

“Exactly what I meant, Lance! I don’t need you buying everything for me!”

“Keith, that is some utter bullshit, I’m not doing it to flaunt my money at you—”

“It sure does come off that way.”

“Keith, will you please just listen—”

“No, you listen, Lance. I can take care of myself just fine, I don’t need you trying to baby me just so you can feel better.”

“I just said that it wasn’t about that!”

“I’m not listening anymore, Lance! Just go hit on some other girl—guy—whoever the fuck you want why don’t you?”

Lance screwed up his face, eyes bright. He opened his mouth but shut it on a second thought. He flipped Keith off before stomping away. There wasn't any help coming from the others in the house that they were all in at the moment, most of the couples were out on dates. Lance and Keith had elected to stay in for once and sadly, it ended in their first huge argument.

For Lance, this fight hurt. His family was well-off, having enough money to put him and his younger siblings through college without any debt and still have some left over. His job paid well before he decided to take some time off and try to find someone, but it looked like even that was going to fall flat. Just like everything else.

And Keith?

Keith turned and stormed off to his room. For him, it wasn’t about the money—it never truly was—it was his pride. He was an independent person, always had been, always will be. He didn’t need someone to buy him things, he didn’t need someone to constantly be doting on him. He didn’t want that. Any of it. But Lance? He just didn’t seem to get it.

They had gotten along for nearly a month now—maybe two, Keith had a hard time keeping track of time in this godforsaken place—and how they hadn't ended each other was a mystery to him.

They were the two sides of the same coin, destined to never see each other, but always there.

Keith flopped onto his bed, smooshing his face into his pillow and groaning. Why? Why was this so hard? He wasn't even supposed to be here much past the first leg of the game. He wasn't cut out for this sort of thing. Keith knew that these games weren't true; like maybe one percent of them actually ended in a healthy relationship. So, it wasn’t like this was unexpected. He and Lance were just… they were the majority here. Plain and simple.

Rolling over he stared at the ceiling, contemplating how he could completely ruin his reputation with the audience so he could just leave the show. He didn’t want to drag Lance off as well, but at this point, it was sudden death between them and oh, what were their names again? Honestly, the only thing Keith could remember about them was their freaking mermaid aesthetic.

Ugh, whatever.

Technically, it was still pretty early on in the show, only the second or third vote out. Everyone was out having dates while the camera crew followed them around, looking as “in love” as fucking possible. The couples that stayed in were still off doing something gag-worthy, sucking up to the cameras and probably each other as well.

But, Keith and Lance had just had a shouting match in the middle of the kitchen (why was it always the kitchen?) and both of them had stormed off in different directions—not caring about the cameras or any of it really.

It wasn’t for show. It wasn’t to get more votes in.

It had actually been a real and emotional argument for both of them. No posturing. No faking it to ramp up the drama. Just them.

And it had hurt. Hurt both of them.

Keith sighed and rolled over to face the window when he heard a knock at his door.

“Go away.”

There was a thud and Keith could just picture Lance hitting his head against the door, convincing himself to stay. “Keith, can we please talk?”

“There’s nothing to talk about, Lance. Just go away.”

“I’m not going anywhere. I want to fix this. Can I come in? Please?”

Fix this? What was there to fix? It wasn’t like they were—oh. Oh, fucking hell. They were on a fucking dating show, remember Keith? Remember that little fact? Yeah, thought so.

Keith rolled off of his bed and opened the door. Lance looked just as bad as he felt at the moment. He turned and walked back into his room as Lance stepped inside, closing the door behind him. With a huff, Keith laid back down on his bed, facing away from Lance.

“Talk away,” he muttered, waving his hand over his shoulder, “I’m listening.”

Lance sighed, and Keith heard his tentative footsteps till the bed shifted. He looked over his shoulder to see Lance sitting at the end of his bed, looking down at his hands, a mix of emotions warring on his face.

They sat in awkward, tense silence while Lance gathered his thoughts, and all Keith could think about was how much he just wanted to go home to his single apartment. Get back to working and going about his business.

"Okay…so, I don't really get where all the—well, I guess it's anger but that's a crude way of putting it, so we can just go with animosity. Yeah, that works—I don't know where the animosity of letting someone try to take care of you comes from, but…" Lance played with his fingers, fiddling with them as he talked. "But I want to say I'm sorry."

“Wow, that was surprisingly mature for you,” Keith replied, voice emotionless.

Lance let his head fall and ran his hands through his hair. “Keith, I’m trying here, cut me some slack please.”

“I’m not someone you can buy off with cool things and pretty words, Lance.”

“And I know that! I literally came here to apologize and try to make things better by being honest and willing to listen, but dammit Keith, it’s a fucking two-way street here.”

Keith tucked his knees up and scowled out the window. “I don’t know why you’re bothering when this is just a dating show and the likelihood of anyone here actually making it work is slim to none. So why are you trying Lance? What’s the point of all this?”

“Because some of us actually want to create relationships, Keith.”

He sat up and glared at Lance. “And you chose a fucking dating show on reality tv to do that? What kind of world do you come from?”

“The kind of world where it’s all about the salary you make at the end of the year.”

Keith blinked, shocked. Lance’s tone was flat. Flat and cold enough that someone could ice skate over it. He couldn’t—that wasn’t was Keith was expecting to hear. It was one of the last things he wanted to hear.

In his silence, Lance spoke up again. “Where I come from, my salary makes or breaks my status. It’s fucked up and awful, but it is what it is. It’s all about making deals, seeing who you can wring the most work out of with the least  expense on your part.” He laughed—an emotionless bark more than anything else. “Friends don’t exist without a price tag there.”

“Then why tv?” Keith asked quietly.

“Because nothing else worked? If I couldn’t find friends where I actually live and work, might as well take time off and pretend on a dating show that I have something going for me here, right?”

…He actually didn’t know how to respond to that. Keith sat there, mouth slightly agape. He hadn’t expected that honest of a reply from Lance. “I… Lance, I…”

Lance stood up and walked to the door. “Don’t worry about it.” He turned to look over his shoulder. “If you really want out of this thing, I’ll respect that, but till then, let’s just get through this, yeah?”

Before Keith could respond, Lance left the room, the door clicking softly shut behind him.

. . .

“…And I guess that was the first time that Lance showed his true colors on the show—even though there were no cameras around at that point.”

Lance leaned over and kissed Keith on the cheek. “You mean that was the first time you realized that you loved me.”

“Oh yeah, definitely,” Keith scoffed sarcastically and shoved Lance away.

They all chuckled, Keith laced his fingers with Lance and held his hand on his lap. The two of them smiled at each other, again realizing that they were blissfully happy with each other.

“So, during your story there, Keith, you mentioned, not really wanting to be there,” Coran said after giving them their moment. “Was that something that played into the scandal that you two were involved in at the end of the show?”

“Part of it.” Keith resituated himself and leaned closer to Lance. “I was a fill-in for a last-minute drop. Dating shows work best when there’s an even number of people, obviously. But Altea’s Juniberries keeps a few people on-call just as a contingency. And then we are supposed to be voted off early on in the show to give all the other contestants their best shots.”

Coran leaned forward and stroked his mustache. “But you and Lance nearly made it the whole way.”

Keith nodded. "It was awesome but at the same time nerve-wracking for me. I'm just a stagehand most of the time, behind the scenes and stuff. I wasn't used to being in the spotlight that often."

“And Lance was?”

“Well, after I took time off from my company,” Lance piped up, “I wasn’t nearly in the tabloids all that often.”

“Oh, that’s right! You were promoted to the newest CEO of Voltron Incorporated, correct?”

Lance scratched his cheek, honestly modest for the first time on the talk show. "Yeah…It hadn't exactly been my idea, but the Holts were pretty insistent. They liked my ideas, but I wouldn't say the rest of the company did."

Keith nudged him in the side, grinning. “I remember reading about that. You wanted to—what? Start a kids’ show and create a toy line?”

Coran whistled. “That’s a major change from what Voltron was used to doing, wasn’t it?”

“Only a little,” Lance sat back and explained, extracting his hand from Keith’s to gesture about as he did so. “You see, Voltron participated a lot of humanitarian efforts and the goal was to get kids interested in science and engineering and technology. There were even plans for the arts to be included too.”

“If my sources are correct, you had to leave Altea’s Juniberries because that idea was finally taking off.”

Lance nodded. “Yeah, it just happened to be at the same time that Keith was wanting to leave as well.”

. . .

Things were starting to get tense between him and Keith, and Lance had no idea why. For a couple days straight, Keith had actively avoided him, only doing what he had to do by the show's standards. Show up for the dates, make conversation, smile, and wave for the cameras. It looked normal, but it was far from it.

As soon as they would get somewhere that the cameras weren’t on them, Keith would disengage and act as if Lance was no more than an annoyance. It hurt.

So, just like their first argument, Lance knocked on Keith’s door and waited.

There was a muffled reply from the other side and Lance turned the knob to see Keith packing his bags.

“Keith? Wh—what’s going on?”

His friend froze and looked back at him, an apology written all over his face. “Lance, I—”

Lance stepped inside and closed the door behind him, twisting the lock on it. He had no idea what was going on, but Keith was leaving.

“Lance, I-I can explain…”

“Oh, that’s good! Awesome even, I don’t know why I thought that you wouldn’t explain.” Lance couldn’t stop the words that tumbled out of his mouth—they were hurtful, sarcastic and mean. Uncalled for. “It must have something to do with you avoiding me for uh… I don’t know, three days now? Like damn, that’s just nothing.”

“Lance.”

He crossed his arms and frowned at Keith. “Well, go on, I’m here, listening. Might as well tell me, now that I have you cornered, Keith.”

Keith sighed and ran a hand through his hair, making it stick up all over the place. “I’m sorry, Lance, but I… I just can’t do this anymore.” He waved his hand around the room, meaning the show.

“So? You weren’t going to even try to talk to me about it?”

“It’s not real, Lance—”

“Cut the bullshit.”

Keith closed his mouth and thinned his lips. Lance interrupted a lot, but he was never rude about it.

“I don’t know what suddenly changed in the last week or so, but yeah, this is a dating show, but god, Keith, are you trying to tell me that I don’t feel anything for you? Are you trying to tell me that you don’t feel anything either?”

“No, that’s not what I—”

“Then what is it, Keith?”

He waited for Keith to explain, letting a thick silence fill the air between them. In the back of his mind, Lance knew that he shouldn’t really feel this upset about it, but that didn’t stop the feelings from being real.

While Lance waited, Keith turned and zipped shut his suitcase. He was frowning, dark brows furrowed and his eyes sad. He opened his mouth to speak—

Keith beat him to it. “I want to leave the show.”

And his phone rang.

Both of them jumped from the blaring sound Lance had it set to. He fished it out of his pocket and saw Pidge on the screen. This couldn’t be good. Keith was still looking away, avoiding looking at him. Lance sighed and muttered something about being back in a few minutes.

When Lance left the room, Keith let out an explosive breath. God, this was terrible. He knew Lance was going to confront him sooner or later, but he wasn’t expecting it to be so soon. He had already talked to the director of the show and Shiro was fine with letting him go, he just had to find a way to break the news to Lance.

And this wasn’t it.

Keith sat on the edge of his bed and buried his face in his hands. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. He was supposed to sneak away and leave a note for Lance that explained everything, but this fucking happened.

"God, I'm such a screw-up…"

The door opened and shut as Lance said his goodbyes to whoever he was on the phone with. Keith looked up to see Lance grinning—a small one, but it was his grin, nonetheless.

“So, you’re not the only one who needs to get going.”

“What do you mean?” He frowned and stood up from his bed. “Lance, you still have a shot—”

Lance held his hand up, grin growing bigger. “Okay, one: there’s no staying on this show without a partner; two: I got called back to work.”

“Work?”

“Yup, a plan finally pushed through and they need me around to keep it going, make statements and appearances, the whole shebang.”

Keith deflated. Lance was acting like it was normal, acting like he hadn’t been on the receiving end of Keith’s stupid decision to avoid him. “So… this was all just a game to you?”

Lance’s smile disappeared, and a concerned frown took its place. “What? No!”

His anger flared, and he snapped, “You’re acting like nothing just happened!”

“Keith—?”

He lowered his head and clenched his fists. There were shaking. Why was he so upset about this? Wasn’t it just a game? Wasn’t that all it was? “Lance, just tell me if this was a game or not. Please.”

Just as he was lifting his head to look Lance in the eye, he was there, hugging him close, face buried in his shoulder.

“This was never a game to me, Keith,” he said softly, squeezing Keith closer a little more. “It was never a game to me.”

. . .

“A dating show that wasn’t a game?” Coran stroked his mustache after Lance and Keith finished telling their part of the story. “Aren’t dating games meant to help people find their true love?”

Lance looked at Keith and smiled softly. “Yeah, that’s the goal.”

Keith smiled back and took Lance’s hand again. “Sometimes people miss that, and only want to win…neither of us wanted that.”

“Nope.”

Coran shook his head at the sight of Lance and Keith losing themselves to the other. Lovebirds, he thought.

He turned back to the audience. “Well, there you have it, everyone. Lance McClain and Keith Kogane!”

#klance #voltron #dating show au #keith #lance #vld keith #vld lance #vld coran #corazon #bg hallura #show host coran #commission fic #mogis messes

[madgeinvoltronland]

from the pregnancy lines, “Hello little one. We can’t wait to meet you…” for Shkidge? :3c (or just Shidge or Kidge, either of which you'd like :') )

It’s heavy on dialogues but here it is! Sorry it focuses a lot on Keith and Pidge for a good part, I know how much you love Shiro :’) 

I also mentioned AIIurance in it, just letting people know x)

This happens after the war, when they’re back on Earth

« Hello little one. We can’t wait to meet you… »

Katie smiled down at Shiro, who was reverently stroking her still flat belly with a huge grin on his face. She had just told her lovers about her pregnancy -by sending them on a treasure hunt that led to her test, because there was no fun in simply saying it- and they had been so happy about the news Shiro immediately crouched to talk to her belly, even though she was still standing in their living room. Keith was more reserved and grabbed her hand, looking at his lovers with a loving smile. And to Katie, that moment was perfect.

They’d been trying to have a baby for a few months now, and she was keeping track of everything to make sure they could conceive quickly. Periods, ovulating periods, the best timing for the tests… She wanted to make sure everything was perfect, wanted to make sure she wouldn’t give them false hope. Which gave her an ample knowledge of foetuses development and the different stages of pregnancy.

« You know I’m only in my, maybe fifth week, and ears only start to develop between the eight and tenth week. »

Shiro looked up and raised an eyebrow. His teasing smile didn’t make Katie blush, nope, not at all.

« I did my research, I’ll leave nothing to chance. »

« Hmm,» Shiro turned his attention back to her belly, « but maybe they’re part Galra and Galra ears develop sooner? »

« Didn’t think about that… » she frowned and turned toward Keith. « We’ll have to ask Kolivan… Keith? »

He startled at her voice, and looked at her like a deer caught in the headlights. He’d clearly been spacing out.

« Hey, » she whispered, clearly worried. Even Shiro stood up, taking Keith’s other hand in his. « What’s wrong Keith? »

He looked down, and she shared a worried look with Shiro, who gently lifted Keith’s head to look him in the eyes.

« You know you can tell us everything, right? »

Katie squeezed his hand in reassurance, and let him make up his mind. She had been so sure everything was perfect… She was starting to think she had been so blinded by her want, she completely ignored her boyfriend’s wishes. But fearing the worst wouldn’t help, so she waited until he was ready to talk, though his voice was low, barely above a whisper.

« What if I’m not a good father? »

She was baffled, but not really surprised. Keith didn’t have the most exemplary childhood, and it took a while before she managed to convince him she wasn’t going to leave him or disappear without a word.

« Keith, we’ve seen you with Lance and Allura’s daughter, » Shiro reassured him. « You’re always careful around her, making sure she’s never alone and always happy. »

« And it’s not like we have more experience at being parents than you, » Katie continued. « We’ll all learn together, and we’ll have our friends to give us pointers. And let’s not forget that I have a really meddlesome family. Matt will come over at every opportunity to see our kid, my mom will pester me about how to hold a baby, or feed one, or anything to make sure her first grandchild grow up healthy, and my dad will probably spoil them rotten, and- »

« Katie, you’re rambling, » he interrupted her, squeezing her hand. She took a deep, shaky breath and looked down.

« Sorry I just… don’t know what I’ll do if you don’t want this anymore. I don’t want to force you, but I also really want to have a kid with you two. »

Katie closed her eyes, nervous now that her fears were out in the open. Shiro put a hand on her lower back, rubbing circles to soothe her.

« I still want it, » Keith reassured her. « I’m just scared I’m going to fail our kid, or you two. »

« This won’t happen, you never failed us Keith, » Shiro chimed in. He quickly kissed Keith. « You’ll love our kid and do your best and that’s all that matters. »

Katie was about to agree when Shiro pulled her against him. « And you stop worrying and try to have everything under control. Stress is not good for our baby. »

« Our baby… » Keith repeated those words that made Katie’s heart swell with pride and love. She turned to him, her back still flush against Shiro’s chest, and this time, he was smiling. Their eyes locked and he got close enough to rest his forehead against hers. « It’s finally settling in that we’re going to have a baby… »

Katie tilted her head to rub her nose against his. « And you’ll be a great father, I know it. »

Shiro rested his hands on Keith’s hip to keep them both close. « What about me? » he asked. She rolled her eyes.

« You’re going to be perfect, just like with everything else. »

« Excuse me? » Keith snorted. « This is Shiro we’re talking about, he’ll be a mess. He’ll baby proof everything and will never be able to leave the baby alone. »

« You’re right, » Katie smiled, ignoring Shiro’s complain. « But try to picture him as a hot stay-at-home dad… »

« Sorry to burst your bubble but he’ll burn the house down. He still can’t be trusted in a kitchen. »

Shiro groaned and took a step back to fold his arms against his chest. « I hate you both. »

He was almost pouting, and Katie found that really adorable. She looked at Keith and they both moved to kiss Shiro, still as in sync as when they were paladins. They backed him toward the couch and they all settled their, sharing kisses and smiling at each other.

The reveal might not have been as smooth as she had planned, but Katie still found it perfect. They had a lot to work on, but she knew they’d tackle it together. Now, they just had to find a way to let everyone know…

#sometimes I write #madge does prompts #shkidge

[irrevocably-delicious]

*whispering* lance circus auuuuuuuuuuuu *naruto-runs away*

Girl. GUUUURL i am living. I could probably make this a huge fix of it’s own too, but i won’t cuz I’m very sick. haha. Ok!

“Oh no,” Hunk blots off the white paint that has spotted his bright orange clown pants. His trailer smells like an odd combination of makeup and fresh bread. 

“There’s no way in hell you’re using me as your sacrifice.” Hunk cries with more determination.

“Aw c’mon Hunk! You’re always being shot out of a cannon or something! How is this more dangerous?” Keith whines. His throwing knives jangle in his back pocket.

“Um, well for one thing…. it’s not a real cannon. It’s one I designed and built so I know exactly how much firepower it has and the risk that’s involved.” He sets down his pants. “And like, the whole joke is that I DON’T get shot out! There’s no risk.”

“We also go through our equipment before every show for safety checks.” Pidge chimes in from her dark corner of the trailer. He hair is still sprayed in crazy directions from their last performance, but she’s removed her makeup. There are still traces of red around her mouth. 

“And Hunk even reduced the sugar content in his pies because they were stinging his eyes a bit too much.”

Hunk nods to confirm. Keith rolls his eyes and groans.

“I’m desperate here guys. I really need a new partner. Thace just called and said the doctors won’t sign off on him touring.” Keith had gotten the call just hours before. Thace had been his mentor and partner for all of their tours, but in recent years he had taken more of a back seat. He would participate less in the throwing aspect, and now just enjoyed spinning on boards blindfolded while Keith threw knives at him. Only the circus performers could tell that he was secretly napping under that blindfold. 

But Thace was getting older. He would joke that Keith should find some “pretty young thing” to replace him, but Keith enjoyed working on their act together. he liked the close bond and comradery that they shared and thought he could get at least three more tours out of him. Unfortunately Thace’s heart had other plans. 

“Pidge?” Keith asks. She snorts.

“Honestly, it’s not very impressive if you miss me. I’m such a small target. Not very entertaining.”

“That’s true.” Keith sighs. She definitely had a point.

“You could try Lance?” She asks. On the outside it’s an innocent enough question. Lance was their star trapeze and high wire artist. He was athletic, looked good in a leotard, and used to the adrenaline that came from circus work. Logically he’d be a perfect fit.

But Keith sees that knowing smirk on Pidge’s lips. He walks out of their trailer with a huff.

“Forget it.”

“So how about it, Shiro?” Keith bats his eyelashes. He hangs off of the bars of the lion’s cage to get a better look at his friend inside. Shiro pats their ancient large, male lion as he sets down his food for him. The old boy is almost blind now and Shiro is comfortable enough to spend longer periods with him in his cage. Despite being a shadow of the young, powerful lion he used to be, Keith still refuses to enter his cage. He gives the lionesses an even wider birth.

“AH, I don’t think I can.” Shiro sighs. He gives the lion a strong pat and then wanders over to Keith at the bars. 

“Your act is right before mine, and that’s when I’m rallying all the cats up. I can’t really leave that job to someone else.” He gives a sad smile. It’s true that the lions were almost entirely Shiro’s responsibility. Allura would feed them occasionally, but that was it. 

Keith nods.

“Yeah, I understand.”

“I’m sorry man. You try the clown squad?”

“Yeah,” Keith slumps against the bars in defeat. Shiro chuckles at his dramatics. He smirks with an alternative.

“You know…. Lance….”

“Never happening.”

“Hey, Allura….”

“Forget it, Keith.” Allura laughs. She hangs her sequinned jacket on the back of her trailer door. There’s a sheen of sweat to her skin, but otherwise not a hair is out of place. 

“But you’d be perfect! You’d look beautiful in a sparkly leotard, do you like feathers?” Keith spits out quickly. “You’d be my beautiful assistant and…”

“Keith….” Allura sighs. She takes her hair out of her tight bun and it cascades down her body. She loosens the tie around her neck. 

“You know I don’t have time to participate in your act. As the ringmaster it’s my duty to keep up the flow of the entire performance, and help pull the audience’s attention as equipment is brought on stage.” She explains like she’s done so many times.

“But you participate in Hunk and Pidge’s act!” Keith exclaims. 

“They’re clowns. Everyone participates whether they like it or not.” She laughs. Keith sits at her dressing room table and pouts, not noticing that his elbow is now stained with make up. He rests his head on his hand and looks in the mirror. Allura’s smile reflects down on him. She places a gentle hand on his shoulder. 

“Lance is in the big tent.”

“I’m not…”

“I already told him you were coming.”

Keith falls forward and thumps his head on the dressing table with a groan. 

Keith finds Lance dangling on one of the trapeze swings in the big tent. It’s strangely cold when it’s not filled with hundreds of eager audience members, or food vendors spewing buttery smells into the air. Lance is out of his full, blue leotard, the one that sparkles in the light, but is down to just his tights and a pair of navy shorts. He hangs lazily above the ground with his ankles wrapped around the ropes, so his arms stretch downwards. He looks oddly serene when he’s upside down.

“I was waiting.” Lance notices Keith pad in. He rights himself and does a flip as he jumps off. He lands in a gymnasts pose.

“Show off.” Keith teases.

“Just for you.” Lance smirks. He wipes his chalked up hands on his bare chest. Keith averts his eyes.

“So, Allura said you needed to ask me something?”

“She didn’t tell you?” Keith’s eyes narrow. Lance shakes his head.

“Oh uh…” Keith suddenly feels a flutter of nerves. Why was asking Lance such a big deal?

“Thace called me and uh… He says the doctors are advising him not to tour with us anymore.” He explains. He speaks quietly and it’s almost lost in such a large space. Lance creeps closer.

“Oh shit. Is he ok?” His concern is genuine. “Are you ok? You’re not dropping out are…?”

“No, no no no!” Keith answers quickly. He holds his hands up and moves them frantically. “Thace is fine. Just had a bit of a scare with his heart. He’s had surgery and recovering, but needs to rest.”

“So no more late night drunken karaoke sessions with Coran.” Lance shakes his head and chuckles. Keith laughs with him. They had both been woken up by Thace’s rendition of I’ve got you, babe at three am more than once. 

“No, sadly not.” Keith sighs. He starts to wring his hands and shuffles a bit on the spot. Lance eyes the way he tucks his hair behind his ear once, twice, three times.

“But unfortunately that means I need a new partner, and so I was wondering if you…”

“Sure thing.”

“… would you be my…” Keith stops. He looks up and blinks at Lance, his mouth slightly agape. Had he misheard?

“Wait, what?”

“I said ‘sure thing’. You were asking me to be your new victim, right?” Lance laughs and crosses his arms over his chest. Keith still stares. Did Lance just agree? That easily?

“Wha… are you sure?!” He gasps.

“Yeah, it’s fine.” Lance shrugs. Keith’s eyebrows knit together. 

“You’ve seen my act, right?” He smirks. “You�� lying on a board. Me… throwing knives at you. Sometimes you’re spinning. Sometimes I’m blindfolded. Sometimes the knives are also on fire?!”

“Yes! Yes, Keith, jeez.” Lance pushes past the shorter boy and begins to walk towards the knife throwing equipment. “I’ve seen your act a million times, that’s why I’m agreeing to it. You never miss.” He smiles and leans on the spinning board.

“You gonna show me what you got or not?”

Keith sighs. This was really happening. Butterflies begin to pound harder against his ribcage, but he tries to keep up his usual confidence.

“I don’t want you chickening out.” He sings. Lance scoffs. He moves to stand in front of the board.

“Just tell me what to do. I work two stories higher than everyone else and frequently throw myself off of it. Your knives hardly scare me.” His grin is sharp and taunting. Keith rises to it. He places his palm on Lance’s chest and backs him up until he hits the board.

“Arms up.” He orders. Lance dutifully raises and spreads his arms. Keith gets to work strapping him in. Lance’s wrists are smaller than Thace’s and the cuffs need to be significantly tightened. Keith pulls on them harshly. Lance hisses.

“Usually pretty guys have to buy me a drink before I let them tie me up.” He murmurs next to Keith’s ear. 

“Shut it.” Keith pulls back quickly, but Lance doesn’t miss the blush that has spread across his cheeks. He smiles to himself.

Keith finishes strapping Lance’s legs and steps back.

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, … He counts out 10 paces. He wants to wipe that smug grin off of Lance’s face.

“Aw, you’re not even gonna spin me yet?” He teases.

“I need to warm up.” Keith replies.

“I think you’re just enjoying this view a bit too…”

SHING!

A knife flies through the air and buries itself deep in the wood just at the base of Lance’s crotch. He lets out a squawk.

“Jesus, Keith! Watch the goods!”

“Not like you use them.”

That shuts Lance up for a while. His expression is sour as Keith lets a few more knives fly. They all land close to Lance’s body, but none make direct contact. Keith has to admit that he is impressed with how Lance never flinches. He barely even blinks.

“Are you ok if I spin you now?” Keith gently asks.

“Go for it.” 

He jogs forwards and with a grunt, spins the heavy board Lance is strapped to. It moves easily enough once it gets going.

“Oh this is awful.” Lance is used to viewing the world from upside down, but not in such a… circular motion.

“Sorry. You can close your eyes if it’s too much, but I understand if you’d want to watch me.” Keith offers. Lance hums and closes his eyes. 

“I don’t need to watch you. Go ahead.”

Again Keith is taken aback at how blasé Lance is being towards all this. He examines Lance’s face for any signs of fear or hesitation, but finds none. He counts out his paces again and begins to throw. Lance’s eyebrows wrinkle a bit, but Keith suspects that’s more from the uncomfortable feeling of spinning than from the fact that he’s having lethal weapons thrown at his body.

Keith runs out of knives and walks forwards. He stops Lance when he’s upright.

“Alright. That’s it.” He smiles. Lance looks puzzled.

“Don’t you want to practice your blindfold bit?” He asks. Keith scoffs.

“Ah no, I won’t make you go through that. It’s pretty nerve wracking.” His fingers start to move to Lance’s wrist. “We can work up to that.”

“No hey, c’mon.” Lance protests. “Don’t stop for my sake, I’m fine. We should practice.”

Keith’s hands stop. He leans on the board and looks at Lance skeptically. 

“Are you sure?” He squints and leans into Lance’s space. Lance smiles.

“Yeah.” He breathes. “I trust you.”

For the second time, Keith feels himself blush. He licks his lips and averts his gaze.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Lance’s eyes are half lidded and he wears a crooked smile. “I’ve been watching you do this for years. Not a doubt in my mind.”

Keith lets out a breathy laugh.

“Ok.”

He spins Lance again. Counts his paces. Pulls his blindfold out of his pocket. He takes a deep, slow breath.

Millions of times, millions of times, I’ve done this millions of times. He repeats to himself. So why was his pulse thudding so hard.

With a gulp, he holds his breath and lets the first knife fly. He waits.

“You dead?”

“I’m fine!” Lance laughs. “Keep going, you’ll definitely know if you hit me. I trust you, remember?”

“Yeah.” Keith breathes. He smiles and pulls out his next knife.

He hears each one impact the board, and so far Lance has been silent. A good sign.

“Last one!” Keith announces. His nerves have started to calm finally. He rubs his thumb over the cool metal of the blade, feeling it’s weight in his palm. With a calculated flick of his wrist, he sends it spiralling into the air. 

“AH!” Lance cries.

“Lance!”

Lance loudly snorts and begins to laugh loudly. Keith rips off his blindfold.

“Joking! Joking!”

“You fucking asshole!” Keith glares. He marches across the sawdust. His murderous expression does little to stop Lance’s giggling.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” But Lance hardly seems remorseful with happy tears in his eyes. Keith places his hands on either side of his head and leans in.

“Are you happy with yourself?” If looks could kill..

“Immensely” Lance purrs. “Now let me out of this things so I can shower.” He starts to wriggle and pull at his cuffs. Keith steps closer.

“I oughta leave you here as punishment.” He says through gritted teeth.

“Is that what you’re into?” Lance breathes. Keith feels it on his face and it sends a jolt straight to his stomach. His eyes narrow and for once he doesn’t nervously look away. Lance laughs.

“Hey that reminds me, what kind of outfit did you want me to wear?” He asks. Keith chuckles and leans back a bit. He makes it obvious how his gaze trails up and down Lance’s body.

“I kind of like this get up.” He smirks. He starts to bend down to undo the cuffs holding Lance’s legs. 

“The tights and shorts?” Lance laughs.

“It’s a real look.” Keith smiles.

“Mmmm,” Lance hums. “I could always wear just the shorts. Or maybe some little speedo things.” He seductively wiggles his hips. Keith laughs louder. That makes Lance smile wider.

“I can bedazzle them if you like. Put your name across my junk.” He waggles his eyebrows. Keith leans in and undoes one wrist cuff. As he undoes the second he leans in extra close. His lips feather across Lance’s ear. 

“I’d rather have my name across your ass.” He purrs. 

Lance falls to his feet as his last cuff is undone. He wears a blush that reaches all the way down to his collar bones. Keith winks at him over his shoulder as he walks away.

“Ohooooho,” Lance’s knees are weak. His smile is wide and his eyes light up with interest. 

“Keith…. baby… what are you doing to me? You can’t just walk away.” He holds his heart like he’s been wounded, but Keith continues his march back to his trailer.

This should be an interesting tour. It takes every ounce of his will not to skip out of the tent.

#klance #voltron #vld #voltron fanfic #vld fanfiction

[junker-town]

Reliving Keith Jackson’s perfect call at the end of the perfect college football game

Ahead of 2017’s Texas vs. USC reunion, SB Nation spoke to the three people who called the 2006 Rose Bowl masterpiece with the legend: Dan Fouts, Holly Rowe, and Todd Harris.

You remember the play, don’t you? Vince Young, Texas’ superstar quarterback, scampers to the end zone to end USC’s 34-game winning streak and bring a national championship to the Horns for the first time in over three decades. It’s universally considered one of the greatest endings and most beloved games ever.

But do you remember the soundtrack to that famous play? Dan Fouts does.

“I can recite it to you,” Fouts told SB Nation. “‘Fourth down, for the national title. Young, going for the corner ... he’s got it.’”

On that night, Fouts was shoulder-to-shoulder with broadcasting great Keith Jackson. Along with the parade, the San Gabriel mountains, and New Year’s Day, nothing is more synonymous with the Rose Bowl then Jackson is.

His Roopville, Georgia twang turned Lendale White’s last name into “Hoo-wite” right before the USC back was stopped on a critical fourth down. Trojan defenders weren’t tired in the fourth quarter; they were “beleaguered,” per Jackson. The Longhorns didn’t have two timeouts left on that final drive; they had two “times out.” USC was “Southern California.” Such was the dignity of his speech.

Part of the call’s greatness: how understated it was. Play-by-play announcers aren’t supposed to be bigger than the game.

The man who coined the phrase “The Grandaddy of Them All” always spoke with reverence about this particular venue. This was how he opened the telecast:

The royalty of college football is in assembly at the Rose Bowl, 2006. Bush, Leinart, Young, and their legion. By consensus, the teams rank 1 and 2, with nary a whisper of dissent. The site for this ultimate showdown in college football is one of the most famed arenas of sport: the Rose Bowl, where the festival of postseason play was started more than 100 years ago in the city of Pasadena, California.

Jackson’s colleagues spoke of his humility, which showed from beginning to end of that game.

“I can remember it clear as day, ‘cause I was standing in the end zone on the goal line,” Harris said. “And I saw Vince Young scramble, and I thought, ‘They’re not gonna get to him,’ and Keith just: ‘He’s got it,’ and he laid out. And the fans — half the fans in the burnt orange and the USC fans were just dumbfounded — and he just laid out and didn’t yap over it and just let the moment play out.”

Both Fouts and Harris said that’s the way it’s supposed to be done, a model for how young broadcasters should call big moments.

“It’s television,” Fouts said. “People can see. Too many announcers now have got to fill the words when they’re not needed.”

Jackson will tell you that the stage is for the players, not some “fat-butted announcer trying to make a name for himself.”

Since 1966, Jackson had been ABC’s voice to go along with the college football things “people can see.”

He’d done just about everything you could do, as far as broadcasting was concerned, but his love was college football. In 1998, Jackson retired for the first time, near the age of 70.

He was talked back into it by ABC, which allowed him to only call games on the West Coast, making travel easier for him and his wife from their Southern California home. He mostly handled Pac-10 games in his second tour of duty, typically paired with Fouts and Harris.

“That might be the best crew that I’ve ever worked with, as far as director, producer, stats people, everything,” Harris said. “The camera people, the audio people. And then to be mixed into that, I literally felt that I’d been elevated to the skyrise penthouse. Keith is what he is on TV. He’s a class act.”

Fouts recalled broadcast booths with lines outside, as people waited to “come in and kiss the pope’s ring.”

Even the traditional Thursday pregame sitdowns with players and coaches had new meaning.

“I remember when Alabama came to the Rose Bowl [Stadium] to play UCLA [in 2000], and several of the Alabama players came and had their sit-down with Keith Jackson,” Harris said. “And I remember distinctly, one of the tailbacks, I remember he walked out of the interview with Keith, and he said to a bunch of his buddies that were waiting in the hall, ‘I just spoke with the voice of God.’”

Rowe only worked with Jackson twice: that Rose Bowl, plus a bowl in San Diego earlier that postseason, so she could work into the crew’s rhythm. Rowe had been added after Lynn Swann left to run for political office.

“I’ll never forget, I had to do a pregame hit, and I tossed it back up to the booth, and I was so terrified. Do I say, ‘Back to you Mr. Jackson?’” Rowe said. “I didn’t know what to call him. I was so scared. I definitely had grown up listening to him my whole life. He was college football to me.”

“[An Alabama player] walked out of the interview with Keith, and he said to a bunch of his buddies that were waiting in the hall, ‘I just spoke with the voice of God.’”

Rowe calls it, to this day, the most hyped game she’d ever seen.

But the noise was drowned inside the Texas and USC camps. Reggie Bush, Young, and Matt Leinart were mythical on their campuses. Mack Brown and Pete Carroll were patriarchs in their prime, returning swaggering success to blueblood programs.

Texas had won 24 of its last 25 games. USC had won 34 straight. Big stages were nothing new. The Trojans call Los Angeles home anyway, and the Longhorns had played in the 2005 Rose Bowl win over Michigan, an epic game in its own right.

“I would just go to practice by myself and talk with Mack Brown quietly, and you know, we did kinda go about our prep in much of the same fashion, but then the hype around the game was swirling,” Rowe said. “So it was a very unique — it felt like you were in this little, quiet, private bubble, prepping for the game amidst chaos.”

Harris and Fouts had worked with USC multiple times, and the trio had called Texas’ win over Oklahoma in Dallas. Brown told SB Nation that Jackson requested to do that game, with at least a thought that it would be his last Red River Shootout.

“Not one time in my many years of having Keith call our games did he ever say anything that we asked him not to say,” Brown said. “He was very quick to say, ‘I would like to have information. I would like to know backgrounds, but also tell me how far I can go.’”

The crew’s prep week in the L.A. area included watching practices, where Brown recalled seeing Jackson with Texas coaching giant Darrell Royal, whose name is on the Longhorns’ stadium, and country singer Mac Davis.

Rowe had memories of going to the Tournament of Roses Parade with her father and walking to the game. On the eve of Texas-USC, she had her time with the legend.

“It was just me and Keith Jackson up in the press booth looking out over the field,” Rowe said. “And him telling me stories about games that he had called, in that booming voice. And it’s just this private moment between me and Keith Jackson and him telling me football stories. That will go down as one of the greatest moments of my career.”

For all of the pomp he brought to the proceedings, Jackson reverted to a younger man as kickoff approached.

Some of his final words before toe met leather: “My only expression is, we’re gonna play football, yippee. I thought we’d never get here.”

Fouts had spent five seasons with Jackson, sandwiched around a stint at Monday Night Football. Jackson had done play-by-play for that series’ first season, and when the two had talked over breakfast one day about Fouts leaving for the NFL, Jackson said, “Ya gotta go.” They reunited in 2002 and did the BCS Championship between Miami and Ohio State.

Before Texas-USC, Jackson hadn’t announced he was calling it quits, but Fouts had an inkling.

“That was the tough part about the assignment, because here is the greatest college football — the voice of college football,” Fouts said. “This was gonna be his last game. The thing about it was, it may have been his best game ever, too. He was all over it. He was perfect that night.”

Right before Young’s Longhorns lined up on that fourth down, Jackson said with a chuckle and a nod to his Bible Belt roots: “I kinda feel like Job. I’m too old for this.” When it was over, Young’s game wasn’t just good; the QB had “stepped beyond the pale.”

As a USC player knelt in the corner of the end zone and confetti rained, Jackson pointed out the “agony of defeat,” just like former colleague Jim McKay did in the famous opening to ABC’s Wide World of Sports, where Jackson had served as a reporter and announcer. Jackson’s last telecast ended with a bridge to the beginning.

The broadcast crew that Harris referred to as a family then sent its granddaddy out in style.

“We sat in the parking lot with all our crew after the game, and Keith had been kind enough to bring a case of his favorite wine, and we kinda unwound,” Fouts said. “We were well aware of the significance of the game.

“I felt really good about Keith’s performance and the performance of our entire crew. As a broadcaster, that’s really what you cared about most. How your team did, not the two teams on the field. Our presentation of that game was as good as the game itself.”

Part of his call from his final game now graces the elevator to the Rose Bowl’s television booth.

Jason Kirk/SB Nation

Jackson’s call of Young’s TD will remain in posterity for another reason.

That was the last true Rose Bowl to double as a national championship game, for the foreseeable future. The BCS would add a standalone championship to its rotation following 2006. The 2013 season’s title game was at the venue, but wasn’t technically a Rose Bowl. The Rose is now in the College Football Playoff’s semifinal rotation. The Rose Bowl is still special, but it’s no longer for all the marbles, like it was that night.

Harris has had plenty of gigs, but if you gave him the choice of starring in the booth on a smaller game or taking the sideline for a Jackson broadcast, he’d pick Jackson every time.

“I know when I get older, I’ll be one of those guys that people will say, ‘Hey, did you work with Howard Cossell?’ Harris said. “And I’ll say, ‘No, I worked with Keith Jackson. He was the voice of college football, and I’m a better person for it.’”