#she got wordy sorrynotsorry

[myhiraeth]

@allegxry​ sent:  [ back ] - to hug your muse from behind - Seth doing the hugging to Circe lol meme tag || send a dozen i dare you 

She hadn't meant it to be a request, the meeting of their eyes beyond the conversation she found herself in. It wasn't Seth's fault she liked his presence so much. She liked the other students well enough, even if her home life wasn't exactly conducive to making or keeping friends. Seth though... Seth seemed determined in that smiling, soft way of his to befriend her and despite herself, she'd let him. He didn't pry, didn't force himself into her space, and laughed when she'd brushed him off of touching her early on by claiming he ran too hot for her cool blood to handle.

Somewhere along the line she'd stopped minding the heat. Somewhere along the way she'd started finding a comfort in it because it meant Seth. Safe, comforting, Seth.

She'd lost sight of him when she returned to the conversation, but it wasn't a few seconds after excusing herself from the others that arms were wrapping around her and the instinctive shock of fear gave way immediately to the way she relaxed back into the warmth of his hug, let her hands come up to rest on his arms to keep them in place. "Well hello, my favorite space heater." She teased. "I hope you didn't leave anyone interesting to come say hi to me."

#allegxry #she got wordy sorrynotsorry #fun fact if anyone but seth had done this she'd have highkey flinched at them #so just have that fun fact ;)) #circe london. / int. / seth clearwater. / allegxry

[stardust-and-blades]

Lost future au pt. 7

okay I lied there are a few more scenes I’d like to do before the letter revealTM

#SorryNotSorry

------------

It was 3 in the morning, and Keith couldn’t sleep.

He tossed and turned, shocked to see Lance did not so much as stir or curse at his boyfriend for all the movement. He was known to be a deep sleeper; so deep his alarm has to be set a whole hour before he is meant to wake up simply because he wouldn’t budge. There would be times Keith would have to smack him with a pillow to make sure he did not get a third ass chewing from his boss. No matter how much Lance pushed for an afternoon shift or night shift, they love scheduling him in the mornings. 

It’s no wonder he crashed at Keith’s plenty of times. His apartment was closer. And with them being official for eight months, Keith’s home suddenly became Lance’s.

He didn’t mind. It was nice not to come home to an empty bedroom, wondering if he should adopt a cat just to ease the loneliness. 

But as he and Lance grew closer, Keith became incredibly anxious. Not because he was thinking of breaking up with him, god forbid. He may not be able to fully say ‘I love you’ yet, but it doesn’t mean he cared for Lance any less.

No, what made him anxious was the future. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but something gnawed at him; whispered to him daily that he is running out of time. That he needs to take precautions, for if he doesn’t he would be setting Lance up for the same pain he endured from the loss of his parents. He didn’t want that. He wouldn’t wish it on his worst enemy.

Keith turned to his sleeping Lance, the boy’s limbs sprawled out and an arm reaching for Keith. When he felt the sheets instead of a warm body, Lance opened one sleepy eye and mumbled a groggy “Keith? Come back to bed...”

Keith smiled gently at his significant other, taking his hand and combing his hair out of his face.

“Go back to bed. I’ll be a minute.”

“Mmmkay...” Like that, he was out like a light. Keith carefully removed his hand from Lance’s, waiting for him to snatch him back up and prevent him from going anywhere. For a moment he was sure Lance would iron grip him, but he simply squeezed Keith’s hand and rubbed his thumb on the inside of Keith’s palm. He did nothing after that, Keith free to move about.

He did not want to let go. He wanted to curl up next to Lance and forget his thoughts; cast them to the wind and live each day by slow day. But if he didn’t do what is on his mind now, he may never do it. Who knows what fate has in store for him.

Better safe than sorry.

Keith shuffled to the desk not far off. He messily searched for the small lamp, fumbling for the erected switch on the back. He flicked it on and opened a drawer, extracting a pen and paper. He sat on the creaky chair and wracked his brain for what exactly he would like to say, the subject grave yet needing...needing...what?

He clicked the top of the pen several times, chewing on his lip. He wasn’t a wordy person. Never had been. That’s Lance’s job. Keith was all about action, yet this was the only thing he could do. Was capable of doing.

He looked towards the shelf with his hippos, thinking back to that terrible day. His tiny arms around two very big stuffed animals. A smiling lady dropping him off at a foster family. The kids running to their parents after school, engulfed in long awaited kisses and hugs.

Then, he got it.

He began to write, and did not stop until dawn, when his eyes were the heaviest and when he knew he could nap the rest of the day as Lance headed to his job for the morning. 

Lance no doubt would wonder what kept him up.

It’s a good thing insomnia is something he can use as a cover.

As the sun broke through the surface of the window and Lance’s alarm went off for the second time (the first Lance chucked the clock on the floor), Keith finished the letter and hid it in a notebook of his. 

He did not hesitate to crawl back into bed and hide himself in the embrace of his best friend; his partner; his life. He pushed away what he wrote and allowed himself to truly live in the moment. To take in Lance’s sweet scent, the steady rise and fall of his chest, and the smooth, undisturbed brow. 

Keith closed his eyes. For once--just once--he prayed to be wrong.

--------------------

“Here,” Hunk says, breathy and nervous. He holds an envelope towards Lance, the front inscribed with his name in Keith’s handwriting. Lance stares down at it, confusion taking hold of him.

“What...what’s this?” He doesn’t dare touch it, as if it would burn him in an instant. His mother, sitting by his side on the couch and also in the dark, grew weary. Her son hasn’t been recovering well, but just today he ate a full meal without trouble. She fears he will go back to his poor diet and continue to call into work, the mourning period they granted him growing strain. 

Hunk avoids his eyes. Rather, he flips and cracks the cookie Lance’s mother gave him, not really hungry.

“It’s a letter. From Keith.”

Lance’s tired gaze sharpens, dashing to Hunk’s soft, conflicted orbs. 

“What?”

“Keith. He...he gave me this years ago.” Hunk explains, Lance’s mother going still and her mouth hanging open. “When you two were getting serious, he began to take precautions. For this. He asked me to hold onto this in case a day comes where he wasn’t here anymore. I was going to give it to you before the funeral, but...you were in enough pain.”

“Yeah, and I’m totally doing swell now.” Lance says, sarcastic and bitter. He stands up a dark look shadowing his face. “Keep it. I’m going back to bed.”

“It’s five in the afternoon.”

“And I’m done with this conversation.” He slowly walks to his room. “I’ll see you later.”

“Lance, sweetie,” His mother calls out, hushed and dripping in worry. Lance stops, tilting his head in the direction of her voice. He has never heard that tone from her. Not since his father passed, his mother deep in grief but holding on for the sake of the family. She begs him with her gaze to come back, to hear what Hunk has to say. Out of all people she should understand how he is feeling, so why is she looking at him as if he were heading to his own demise?

“Please. Look at the letter. For weeks now I have been looking after you, and the grief is eating you alive. It has invaded your heart and is turning it to ash. While I do not know what is said in the letter, I know Keith wouldn’t want to leave you like this. He wouldn’t want to leave you dying on the inside; blaming yourself for what happened. Please, my sweet boy. Look at what he left for you.”

“You don’t understand--”

“But honey, I do.” She whispers. She stands up, walking over to him and taking his hands in hers. Rivers of sorrow swim in her eyes, yet they never leak out from their prison.

“Lance, do you remember the day your father died?”

Lance is quiet for a moment. “Yes...”

“And do you remember the week after the funeral? The day of my birthday?”

“Yes.”

“I want you to tell me--to tell Hunk--what happened that day. What I received and what you said to me.”

Lance, bristles, awkwardly looking at Hunk. He never told the story. Never bothered to, since it happened when they were just about ready to enter college. Lance did not want to bother Hunk at the time, he was really busy traveling across the state checking out which college was the best for him to spend his four years. He heard about his father’s passing, yes, and he sent his condolences. Offered to cease his college hunt to spend a couple days with the mourning family. But Lance, the youngest of the family and the one closest to his mama, told him he would be fine. Technically Lance wasn’t fine, but he had to be strong for his mother. Had to be there for her, and he wanted to do it without outside help. His mother always portrayed a large amount of strength, but at the time he had to switch places with her and be the son she needed.

Now in exchange, Lance’s mother is being strong for him.

“You received flowers that day,” Lance whispers, Hunk having to inch closer to fully understand what Lance was saying. “It was your birthday, and you were delivered roses. It was what dad did every year--that and a loving note and a trip out to your favorite restaurant. Except he couldn’t take you out that time. Or anymore afterwards. And...and...” 

Lance tries his hardest to continue the story; to do what his mother asks. But a flood of tears overwhelms him, Lance shoving the edge of his hands against his eyelids, turning away from his mother. He hasn’t thought of his dad in a long time. With him and Keith, Lance wonders how he made it this far. 

His mother cups his face in her hands, turning him to face her and cease hiding. she bends his head to meet hers, their foreheads touching as she wipes away his tears. It reminds her of when he was a toddler, crying as soon as he tripped and made contact with the ground. His exorcised his lungs, the high shrills of a baby Lance coursing through the hallways and bleeding into his siblings peaceful spaces. His mother did the same thing as she is doing now, holding her son and whispering gentle declarations of praise and love for his efforts to walk. Her son does not need to learn how to walk like then, but he does need help in standing back up when life has pushed him down. 

“He said in a letter surrounded by two dozen roses ‘My love, if you are receiving this, I unfortunately left the earth before you. While I may not physically be able to show my adoration, I will do it in spirit and send you two dozen roses until you meet me again in God’s embrace. Do not dwell on what could have been, my dear. But remain in the now, and take our children in my stead out on the town. Smile like the old days in Cuba when we bumped into each other on the beach. Laugh like the time I dropped ice cream on a cyclist as we talked for long hours on the balcony of a hotel. Dance like we did on our wedding day, full of merriment and your belly consumed by butterflies and our first born. Go out among the stars and know I am walking beside you, bathing in the light of your soul. Do not stay sad, my love, for we will reunite again.’ “

“Me and Veronica took turns consoling you.”

His mother lets out a shaky laugh. “Yes, but you two also did what seemed impossible: you made me smile during a horrible time in our lives. Afterwards, you and your father helped me pick myself up when I felt lost among a sea of grief.” She combs her hands through his hair. “I don’t want you to remain in the dark. Neither does Keith. So please, my dear son, look at what he left you, because just like your father he has left you the words you need to read. To breathe again. It may hurt, but in the end it may leave you with less of a hole in your heart.”

Lance slumps, giving in to her wishes and allows her to pull him back to the couch. He silently held his hand out to Hunk, his friend placing it in his palm.

He takes a breath, holds it, and opens it.

Dear Lance,

#shania writes #lost future au #klance #klangst #keith kogane #lance mcclain #hunk garrett #lance's mother #VLD #voltron #I want to name his mother Celia but maybe that is just my 'dreaming in cuban' brain #hold onto your butts this ride aint slowin down #take my shitty writing rip

[jcmorgenstern]

Same anon that asked for the headcanons that btw is the same anon asking for Jon’s virginity: My god I love your headcanons and yes I would fully enjoy more if you have the time. 💕

omg I still haven’t finished all the virginity asks ghakfjghg I hope those weren’t yours. also fair warning these will probably veer dangerously into Woobifying Territory because im that person and im gross.

Jonathan sleeps with approximately 4,792 blankets and finds the heat and weight comforting. He will absolutely turn up the AC to do so. Does that apartment have AC? It does now.

Has no concept of what amount of food is gross to eat, so will often sit on the couch and demolish an entire jar of peanut butter in one sitting without feeling sick.

Val probably had a lot of physiology textbooks lying around the cabin due to his extremely unscientific “experiments” so uhh that’s where he got his sex ed. it’s just as bad as it sounds. From personal experience i can say physiology books are pretty terrifying.

He really hated Siberia because of how cold it was (as Sebastian you’ll notice he wears three or more layers even inside. dat bitch COLD). Edom probably has snow in some areas but Asmodeus and Lilith seem to live in an arid region.

God I actually have a really weird headcanon about how the courts of Edom work. So all the kids of the greater demons are considered princes of hell, but it’s a complex and fiercely competitive hierarchy for which child is most favored by their parent at the time and most in favor in the court overall. By virtue of being Lilith’s Only Miracle Half Angel Boy, Jonathan was not super popular with the other princes (I guess prince is a gender neutral term here??). Asmodeus’ kids are probably the best overall but like…..super Horny, Azazel’s kids fucking SUCK, Abbadon’s kids are all super depressed and torture people for fun, etc.

Enter: blonde kid with a bowl cut. It’s like fucking high school. it’s like percy jackson but in hell. it is literally and actually hell.

The courts of edom also occasionally get obsessed with human fads so sometimes it’s just like. 1800s Versailles! Ancient Greece! Lilith is constantly complaining Asmodeus won’t do Sumerian priestess and priest with her.

Most of the time in Edom after he learned to shapeshift Jonathan used the last self-image he remembered, which was him at ten. Lilith definitely thought he was cutest that way, though she was always kind of wistful he hadn’t turned out as an enormous dragon. Too chubby. Not enough claws. Definitely no fangs. Bit of a late bloomer with the wings.

Jonathan, as evidenced by the outfits he’s put together for 3b so far, has no ability to color coordinate at all. He may be slightly color blind. It’s tragic and still does not explain that scarf.

He killed a McDonald’s employee once for shortchanging him on fries. Not really the high point of self-control. Makes Rick and Morty fans look good and sane. He got a free drink refill out of it, though.

OH GOD how can I forget?? Ok so if vampires drinking angel blood confers resistance to sunlight, I’ve always wondered what drinking Jonathan’s blood would do. in the books Simon describes it as tasting like battery acid, but the vampires in COLS seem to drink it just fine. My personal onion is that it confers resistance to fire. Oh, the irony.

He did a shot of holy water on a dare. It didn’t do anything.

I also feel like he’d be pretty resistant to vampire venom/the werewolf demon virus or whatever it is. Like, he’s probably got more ichor or whatever than they do. fuckin up ur game

Seelies think he’s just a really weird fucked up seelie (but have to admit the ears are kind of cute in a sad sort of way) and GOD isn’t the lying hot and scandalous??

mmmmmmm the eyes black out during sexytimes

Maybe this is a weird one but I feel like even the image of Jonathan we see now (ie, Luke Baines) could be in part a projected or assumed image. We never saw him after he was reborn, and it doesn’t seem like it takes a lot of energy to hold a particular shape. Especially since after he was reborn he wouldn’t have any of the scars he had before like…losing his skin. So i imagine those could come and go depending on the Mood. Is this an excuse to keep in that goddamn cryptic “perils of obedience” line?? maybe. you can prove nothing.

Ohhh how could I forget a personal favorite? I really liked the idea that Valentine tried to rune Jace and Jonathan wayyyyy to early, and esp for Jonathan it . Did not go well. Like getting an angelic rune at like four (and ofc Valentine would go for Angelic Power first……..you know he would) when you have Pure Ass Demon Blood sounds…intense. If you’ve read the books you know how intense and angsty rune rejection can be. I fucking love it sorrynotsorry. Like I imagine how upset Valentine would be that his Brilliant Experiment didn’t go to plan and is rejecting the angelic blah blah blah you get the picture anyway angst and im here for it poor bby

Jonathan hates the taste of Earl Grey but transparently pretends to like it to impress Clary and she thinks he’s a fucking idiot.

Even though alcohol doesn’t have much of an effect he likes fruity drinks and straight vodka. Mostly the fruity drinks because they taste good hello?? but for some reason Clary keeps laughing and taking pictures of him?? rude.

I still maintain he had the ear pierced at Claire’s even thought i KNOW this fucking edgelord would do it himself i just need the image of this 20 something edgy fucking demon prince standing in line with a bunch of 8 year olds in princess dresses trying to figure out what “earring gun” could possibly mean. am i immature? yes but shut up

The whole “memorizing Paradise Lost” thing sounds all well and good until you know how fucking WORDY john milton is as a writer. He never shuts up. Also–and Miltonists are welcome to correct me–the Michael/Lucifer bond is bullshit, by the way. and honestly if either jace or jonathan had that book memorized lbr they’d never fucking shut up.

This is also the show that had Aldertree look up from casually reading Art of War at his desk so maybe I ask too much.

The COLS vampire kink is very real dont @ me

Has never received a birthday card (except one three months late from Sebastian’s aunt Elodie strongly implying Sebastian should stop fostering cats and start getting a girlfriend).

okay imma stop there while im still ahead because it is Late and that is a Lot. i hope you enjoy though, friend!!!

#i love a crispy boy #friend anon #i went WILD