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autisticlancemcclain · 1 year

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parts 1 2 3

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Lance can barely see through his tears. His chest keeps heaving with great wheezing sobs, desperately trying to force air in his lungs that refuse to cooperate. He gives up on standing when he stumbles for the fourth time, hitting the wall with a crash and slowly sliding down to the floor. He can’t think over the sound of his own pain, the roaring ache in his heart having finally escaped the corner Lance has been shoving it in and spreading down his limbs, pouring down his face. He doesn’t even know if all the wet on his face is from tears, or if his skin has ripped away and he’s bleeding to death. He hurts bad enough that he feels he might be.

The team. The team. They can’t see. You gotta make it out of the hallway. Behind a closed door. You can do it, okay? Closed door.

The potential humiliation of the team watching him fall to pieces on the castle floor triggers the last of his energy, and he forces himself forward, crawling towards the first door he sees. He can barely make himself stand, clawing his way up the doorframe and standing on shaking legs to slap his hand on the lockpad. His body feels like it’s shutting down, like any strength left in him had left the second he walked on that stage. He staggers over to the bed, collapsing into it as the doors slide shut behind him.

When the scent of the bedsheets finally hits him, a pain rips up his spine that’s so sharp it feels like it’s tearing his cells to shreds: pine and sandalwood.

In his blind retreat, he has stumbled his way to Keith’s room.

He clutches the pillow to his chest, squeezing so tightly his fingers shake. He tries desperately to breathe properly, in and out, but it feels as if he’s forgotten how to exhale. The breaths keep coming in, short and static, faster and faster, but his lungs refuse to let go, refuse to exhale the relief. With every blink, his eyes burn so badly he feels as if he’s doused them in acid, so he squeezes them shut, but that only makes the burning last longer. He can’t bring himself to open them.

In the back of his mind, he registers the whoosh of a door sliding open, then hurried footsteps of a heeled boot. Then hands on his shoulders, as gentle as they are frantic. It’s hard to focus on them, hard to notice the presence of a new person in the room, when he is so sure that he is going to explode, or collapse, or die. He feels like his body is tearing itself apart.

“Lance, you need to calm down. I know you are hurting, dear, but you are going to make yourself sick or worse. You’re okay. Deep breath, asteraki. You can do it. In and out.”

“I can’t,” Lance sobs, and the realisation that he’s telling the truth only makes his panic worse. He’s going to die. He is. His lungs are going to collapse, his heart is going to give out. He can feel it. “I can’t do it, I can’t do it, I can’t I can’t I can’t –”

“You can,” Coran says firmly, “and you must. You are hyperventilating. Take a moment to feel the room around you, hm? The pillow in your hands, the blankets under your knees.”

But the reminder of the room he’s in only serves to make him cry harder. All he can think about is every time he and Keith fell asleep in his room after staying up for hours planning their next missions, walking up after nightmares, talking each other through them. He feels Coran’s gloved hands on his shoulders and imagines them hot enough to feel the sear of them through his clothes – because Keith always ran hot, always rolled his eyes and clutched Lance’s freezing fingers between his hands to warm them up with a fond tease, always threatened to throw his nasty sweaty shirt at Lance’s head after training, always burned as hot and passionate as the heart inside him – and the pain of knowing he won’t ever feel those hands again rips through him.

“He’s gone. He’s gone and I’m never going to see him again and he’s dead he’s dead he’s dead –”

The last thing he hears, besides his own voice getting more and more hysterical as he chants the words he knows must be true, is Coran’s gentle “I’m sorry, dear,” before there’s a prick in his neck and everything goes black.

—

It takes him a few tries to open his eyes when he comes to, because it hurts. But eventually the pain is no longer a shock, and he manages.

“‘D’you sedate me?” he mumbles, and yikes, it sounds like his voice has been dragged over hot coals for eight hours.

“Yes,” Coran says, never ceasing his gentle motions through Lance’s hair. “You were hysteric and struggling to breathe. You were out for about two hours.”

Lance sniffles. “Oh.” He leans farther into Coran’s hold, noting that his face doesn’t feel as sticky with tears and snot and his shoes have been taken off. Coran must have done it. “Thank you.”

“Of course, my dear.”

The tears bubble up again, surprising Lance a little. He wasn’t sure he had any left in him, but obviously he does. They scorch his already dry eyes, burning a hot trail down the raw skin of his cheeks. He still feels the ache in his chest, but it’s no longer all-consuming, no longer a panic that clouds his thinking.

“That was harder than I thought,” Lance whispers, barely audible. “I wasn’t – when I wrote the song, it was painful, but it was relieving. It hurt and it took me a lot of tries because my voice kept shaking. But the stage – God, it was so much worse. It felt like I was flaying myself alive for a live audience.”

Coran’s grip tightens. “You were.”

Lance can hear the tightness in his voice, and when he looks up to see his face it confirms it: Coran is not happy about Lance’s performance.

“You think it was a mistake?”

“It does not matter what I think,” Coran says gently, the anger fading from his features when he notices Lance’s eyes on him. He carefully turns Lance’s head back, facing forward, so he can settle again. “You saved us. I am endlessly proud of you, and the strength you hold in your spirit. I only wish that it did not cost you so much. I wish that people did not have such evilness in your hearts, and that you – the whole team – did not have to sacrifice so much on top of the sacrifice you are already making to prove your worth to the people you are trying to help.”

“We had to. For the good of the universe.”

The words are bitter in Lance’s mouth. The good of the universe.

It was for the good of the universe that Keith left for the Blades. And it was for the good of the universe that he went on that mission, all those weeks ago, and his calls suddenly stopped. For the good of the universe, Keith is missing in action. For the good of the universe, he is very likely dead, lost to the emptiness of space.

How much more will Lance be expected to sacrifice for the good of the universe?

Coran pauses for a moment, his hand stilling on Lance’s head. It takes him several minutes to move again, and Lance can hear his heart start to beat faster from his place over his chest.

“I have never felt love the way you do for Keith,” he says quietly. “I am not young. I have seen many decapheobes, met many fascinating and lovely people, but that kind of love has always eluded me. I do not mourn it. I am happy the way I am. This means that I have never felt the grief or pain you are feeling, not exactly.” He sighs, deep and long and heavy. “But long before the fall of Altea…I had a son.”

Lance’s eyes widen. It makes sense, given Coran’s paternal nature, but it’s still a shock.

“Really?”

“Yes. He was my everything. I spoiled him rotten, that child.” His lips quirk up at the memory. “I took him with me everywhere. I was lucky Alfor was so fond of us both, and allowed it. He was the sun in my sky, the hope in my heart.” The light fades from his eyes, and he closes them, leaning back with a sigh. Lance follows.

“What happened?”

“It was no one’s fault, the accident.” Coran swallows roughly. Lance keeps silent, offering only his own hand, which Coran takes gratefully. “But you know as well as I do that the pods do not fix everything.”

The scar on Lance’s back stings slightly, as it always does when Lance is reminded it’s there. He does know.

“They certainly do not fix dead on impact.”

Lance winces. That...God. The pain of that loss.

“I’m sorry, Coran.”

“As am I.”

The silk of Coran’s glove is cool in Lance’s hands, and catches on the callouses on his fingertips and palms every time he fidgets. He wonders if this is the same pair of gloves that once held the hand of a small child as Coran walked this very castle. He wonders how Coran handles the pain of walking the same halls he once walked with his son. Does his ghost not haunt him? Do entire rooms not serve as aching reminders of his laughter?

“It was a choice,” Coran says quietly, “to keep going. To rise from my bed each morning. To eat and drink and smile and breathe. To live. It would have been so much easier to fade away.”

Lance squeezes his eyes shut, tears dripping salty onto his lips. “How did you make it?”

“I could not. I could not make the choice to live. I did not want to. All I wished to do was fade to pieces.”

Fade to pieces. Lance understands the sentiment. Sometimes, when he’s sure Shiro is asleep, he sneaks into Black’s hangar, and she lets him climb into her cockpit and onto the pilot’s chair. It doesn’t smell like Keith, not anymore. But there’s a trace of him, there; lingering. For the first few weeks that Keith was gone, Lance would cry silently, curled up in the chair and aching for the distance between them. Aching from the changes. Those first few weeks were hard, and he struggled to adjust for a gaping hole where Keith used to be a constant, placated only by the tinny sound of his voice over the speakers of their comms. Those first few weeks, he would let the tears he swallowed in the day drip onto the leather of Black chair, and feel the distant tendrils of Black’s affection in his mind.

For the last few weeks, as Lance’s sobs have filled her cockpit to the point of suffocation, she has only cried with him. That is how Lance knows he is mourning. That is why Lance’s heart has shattered beyond repair. Keith has gone somewhere even Black can’t reach – and the gravity of that grief drags Lance to the deepest pits of despair.

How is he supposed to choose to live when he feels like his life has been wrenched from him?

“I could not make the choice to live,” Coran repeats gently. “But I could choose to take my next breath. I could choose to take my next step.” He squeezes Lance’s shoulders. “I could not look too far ahead. The future was bleak, to me. But I could breathe, and every breath got easier. I could walk, and every step was lighter. And above all, child, I had to make the choice to do the next right thing. That was all.”

“I don’t want to do the next right thing,” Lance says, and he chokes around the words. “I don’t know what the next right thing is. I did the right thing when I let Keith go. And it was the worst choice I ever made. What if the next right choice I make takes away the rest of the people I love? How much do I have to sacrifice until the universe is satisfied with me?”

Coran looks pained. He tries to smile anyway, and Lance appreciates the effort.

“I know you have already done so much, my dear. I know. And the universe is so lucky to have someone like you protecting it, someone who is good and kind and sacrificial. I know it is hard to make the right choices when you are angry, and righteously so.”

Lance is angry. He tries to ignore it, tries to choke it down, but sometimes it bubbles out of him, hot and mean and acidic. Sometimes he wants to tell every dignitary where they can stuff it, show every pompous monarch the list of things he has lost trying to keep them safe. He left his family – his mother and sisters and brothers and nieces and nephew and aunts and uncles and friends and cousins – and his home behind. He doesn’t know when he’ll see them again. He left so much of his soul behind, and continues to chip away at it, every time he takes a life. And now he’s lost his Keith. What’s next? Who will be the next person that Lance is not allowed to keep? Why are so many people insistent on making everything harder for him, making him face his pain with a smile? When will he be allowed to suffer, plain and simple, without the crushing weight of responsibility on his back?

“Then what do I do?” His words are desperate, his eyes pleading as they bore into Coran’s. “How do I choose the next right thing when I don’t even know what the right thing is?”

“You know what the wrong thing is,” Coran says simply. “Given the choice, you know what you do to make things worse, yes?”

“...Yes.”

“Then you must keep that in mind. You are shroud in darkness, child. Of course you are. Pain is as dark as grief is heavy.”

“And the best way to fight the dark is to find the light,” Lance whispers.

Coran hums. “Yes. If you choose to do the next right thing, no matter how small that thing is, it will get easier to move forward. The pain will never leave, but you will grow around it. It will become comforting, even. A reminder of what you have lost, so that you do not forget that you loved.”

Lance shudders around his next breath. The next right thing. What’s the next right thing

Well, maybe washing his face, for starters. Drinking some water.

“Okay,” he says hoarsely. Coran smiles at him, squeezing him tightly, for the enth time. Lance smiles back, as weak as it is.

“I’ll make the choice.”

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fayt30l0v3 · 1 year

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Lance McClain as a lead singer for a band, lance McClain as Vic Fuentes, lance McClain in an emo band, lance and Keith are in emo band, lance McClain gets too caught up in the music and makes out with his bassist, Keith kogane is a bassist, Keith kogane is thinking about it too much and lance McClain is trying not to make it awkward, the vld band au has been born.

#klance #lance mcclain #vld keith #keith kogane #I really like band aus sue me #also I think I’d be funny if lance makes fun of Keith for being emo when he is literally the lead singer of an emo band

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allamericansbitch · 2 years

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based on this thread, here is a list of famous people who have supported johnny depp and/or made fun of amber heard. fuck all of them:

Aly & AJ

Alissa Violet (Influencer)

Anitta

Ann Coulter

Ashley Benson

Ashley Park (actress from Emily in Paris)

Auli'i Cravalho (actress from Moana)

Bailey Muñoz

Bella Hadid

Ben Shapiro

Booboo Stewart

Chase Hudson (Lil Huddy)

Chase Stokes (actor from Outer Banks)

China McClaine

Chris Rock

Cierra Ramirez (actress from The Fosters/Good Trouble)

Cody Simpson

Connor Swindells (adam groff on sex education)

Cazzie David

Critical Role

Dakota Fanning

Dakota Johnson

Daniel Ricciardo

Diana Silvers

Dillion Francis (DJ)

Dominic Fike

Dove Cameron

Elle King

Emma Roberts

Florence Pugh

Gabby Douglas

Gemma Chan

Halle Bailey

Henry Golding

Ian Somerhalder

Jaime King

Jamie Campbell Bower

Javier Bardem

Jennifer Aniston

Jennifer Coolidge

Jeremy Renner

Jessie J

JK Rowling

Joe Perry (Aerosmith)

JoJo Siwa

Jordan Fisher

Julian Kostov (actor from Shadow & Bone)

Justin Long

Kali Uchis

Kat Von D

Kelly Osbourne

Kelsea Ballerini

Kyle Rittenhouse

LaKeith Stanfield

Lance Bass

Lennon Stella

Lewis Tan

Lucy Hale

Madelyn Cline (actress from Outer Banks)

Maren Morris

Matthias Schoenaerts

Michael Clifford (of 5 Seconds of Summer)

Molly Shanon

Nicholas Braun

Norman Reedus

Nyane (popular instagram model)

Olivia Jade

Paige (from WWE)

Paris Hilton

Patti Smith

Paul Bettany

Paul McCartney

Penelope Cruz

Perrie Edwards

Phillip Barantini (director of Boiling Point)

Pokimane (Twitch Streamer)

Reeve Carney

Robert Downey Jr

Rian Dawson (Drummer of All Time Low)

Riley Keough

Rita Ora

Ryan Adams

Sam Claflin

Samantha Hanratty (actress from Yellowjackets)

Samuel Larsen

Seth Savoy (Director)

Shannen Doherty

Sharon Stone

Sia

SNL cast and writers

Sofia Boutella

Sophie Turner

Stella Maxwell

Tammin Sursok

Taika Waititi

Tony Lopez

Upsahl

Vanessa Hudgens

Vanessa Morgan

Vanessa Paradis

Vincent Gallo

Yungblud

Zachary Levi

Zedd

Zoe Saldana

Zoey Deutch

People who publicly support Amber:

Aiysha Hart

Alex Winter

Alexa Nikolas (actress from Zoey 101)

Amanda Seyfried

Amy Schumer

Anna Sophia Robb

Bianca Butti (Amber's ex)

Busy Philipps

Chace Crawford

Chloe Morello

Christina Ricci

Constance Wu

Contrapoints/Natalie Wynn

Corey Rae

Dana Schwartz (journalist and writer)

David Krumholtz

Dolph Lundgren

Edward Norton

Elizabeth Lail (actress who played Beck from you)

Elizabeth McGovern

Elizaberh Reaser (Esmé in Twilight)

Ellen Barkin

Emeraude Toubia (actress from Shadowhunters and With Love)

Emily Ratajkowski

Evan Rachel Wood

Finneas

Howard Stern

Ira Madison III

Jamelle Bouie (NYT columnist)

Jessica Taylor, Dr

Jon Lovett (podcaster & former White House speech writer & fiance of Ronan Farrow)

John Legend

Julia Fox

Julia Stiles

Julianne Moore

Kate Nash (singer, actress from Glow)

Kathy Griffin

Kristen Bell

Lauren Jauregui

Lena Headey

Lindsay Ellis (YouTuber)

Lindsay Lohan

Lindsey Gort

Mia Farrow

Michele Dauber (Stanford law professor)

Millie Brady (actress in The Last Kingdom)

Mel B

Melanie Lynskey

Melissa Benoist

Monica Lewinsky

Nathalie Emmanuel (actress on Game of Thrones)

Neil Gaiman (writer of Caroline, American Gods, Good Omens, etc.)

Nikki Glaser (comedian)

Patricia Arquette

Rachel Riley

Raphael Bob-Waksberg (creator of Bojack Horseman)

Robin Lord Taylor

Rian Johnson (director of Knives Out)

Ryn Weaver (singer)

Samantha Bee (comedian)

Sarah Paulson

Sarah Steele

Selma Blair

Sophia Bush

Uzo Aduba

Willa Fitzgerald

Zach Kornfeld (from the Try Guys)

#tp #amber heard #johnny depp #heard v depp

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jalapenobee · 1 year

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What I feel for you

“Gotta go fast.”

That’s what Lance whispered to himself whenever he, well, has to go fast. Like now. The coffee shop down the street from the recording studio was about to close, and running was the only way he could make it there in time. Otherwise, he’d have to walk an extra three blocks for some gritty coffee and arrive late at the studio. Walking wasn’t an option here.

After a minute of running in the cold, Lance finally reached it - Vrepit Sal. Pretty new coffee shop, opened just a tad over three months ago. Regardless, Lance couldn’t imagine going anywhere else for a “hot cup of joe.”

Lance peered inside the foggy window at the counter inside. The sign said open, but the interior said otherwise. Even though the lights were on, no one seemed to be at the counter.

Until someone walked out from the door to the kitchen with a small crate, and Lance decided this was the perfect time to make an entrance.

The door’s tiny bell dinged as Lance pushed it open, mixing the frosty outside air with the warm aura inside. He grinned at the young man behind the counter, still holding the crate and an unamused expression.

“Sir, you do realize we’re closed right now?”

Lance sauntered right up to the counter and leaned half his body on it. “No, you’re not. The sign says open, the lights are on, and you’re still in here.” Lance reached over and flicked the guy’s lopsided name tag. Keith, it said. “That doesn’t seem very closed to me.”

Keith flicked away Lance’s hand and set the crate next to him on the counter. “Nobody asked you. And who gave you the right to touch my name tag?”

“I’m sure you don’t mind. I’m a celebrity, you know. Most people would be dying for me to flick their name tag, Keith.” Lance let the worker’s name slip off his tongue like a water droplet off a leaf.

“Well, I’m not like most people. And who made you a so-called celebrity?”

“What do you mean? I’m like, only the most popular singer around here! I’ve done a bunch of collabs and stuff! Come on, Lance McClain? You can’t tell me you’ve never heard of me.”

Keith looked him dead in the eye. “I have never once heard of you.”

“You seriously don’t know who I am?” Geez, this guy must live under a rock.

“Yeah, you’re the douche that comes in two minutes before we’re about to close.”

Lance sighed. There was no getting around this guy. “Can I just get something to drink? I’m on a tight schedule.”

Rolling his eyes and picking up the crate, Keith proceeded to ask Lance his order and begin making it. Flat white with oat milk. Along with Lance playing one of his songs from his phone. As proof he was a “celebrity.”

Do you think of me? Late at night, when the phones are off,

Do you smile at the thought of me? Like I do for you when we talk,

Do you ever wonder what I mean? Cause letters can’t get across,

Lance’s two voices-recorded and live in the shop-was paired with a monotone, mumbling one. “What I feel for you.”

Lance snapped his head up at Keith, who claimed to not know who he was, but knows the lyrics to his song. “Say what now?”

“Nothing. I didn’t say anything.”

“No, no, no. You were saying the lyrics!” Lance fumbling with his phone, hitting the pause button and focusing his attention on Keith.

“No I didn’t. You’re delusional.”

“Come on! We had a bonding moment! We were singing together!”

“Nope. Don’t remember. Didn’t happen.”

Lance sighed in defeat. “You’re impossible, you know that Keith?”

“Yup.”

626 words

#my fics #voltron #klance #I wrote the lyrics myself #and slipped a reference in there #smooth

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crowning-art · 3 years

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My piece for the @coloraturazine peeps! My genre was kpop, of course, so here’s Keith and Lance performing some cool Kpop choreography

Anyways, the zine is opening up for leftover sales so go check it out!

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biclarity · 4 years

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Surrender to the Beat

I just posted my first chapter of a Klance fanfic I’ve been brainstorming for awhile!

Surrender to the Beat

Chapter(s) (As of this date): 1 Description: Music is rumoured to bring people together. Maybe a few good songs, some dancing, and some singing can bring two oblivious idiots together. Keith has been going to Altea College for three years, majoring in music as a singer, and having a minor in astrology. His life has been pretty consistent since being adopted by Shiro's family. However, that consistency is about to shift with the help of a bisexual disaster, also known as Lance McClain. The dancer who sweeps Keith off his feet. Lance majors in dance, has been for three years but has been dancing for what seems like his whole life, having a minor in astrology as well. When invited to a bar night by his best friend Hunk, everything changes. All because of a black-haired beauty singing his heart out to a song that is all against love. How ironic. Will these two idiots who don't get the first thing about love end up with blissful happiness? There's only one way to find out!

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ezrazzle · 5 years

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Singer / Bodyguard AU I made for the This and Every Other Universe zine Klance edition that was unfortunately dissolved.

#klance #laith #voltron #voltron legendary defender #vld #keith kogane #lance mcclain #bodyguard au #body guard au #singer au #my art

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baovyoi · 5 years

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day 17 - celebrities

(don’t repost)

Twitter

#my art #Klance AU Month #klance #laith #keith kogane #lance mcclain #singer #actor #musician #lance serrano #alternate universe #celebrity #vld #Voltron legendary defender

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musicanddancingthroughlife · 5 years

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Shance -- Singing

So, while I seriously doubt anyone actually like. Knows I post weekly fics and looks forward to them and is then disappointed when I’m later than usual, I still feel a need to apologize. This is much later than I usually aim for, and it’s not for a lack of trying. I got, like, 20 pages of my original work done this week, which is great considering up until now it has just been character work, but that’s been fun and mostly all I’ve been writing. Plus, like, I’m getting married next weekend? And I have finals this week, and I moved out of my apartment last weekend so I’m living at home until next weekend, and I’m dealing with wedding appointments and pictures and the legalities and cleaning house for family to come visit and also just don’t want to do any of it. The good news is writing is quickly becoming stress relief, so hopefully that means I’ll be able to get ahead so I don’t have to stress so much about posting literally the day after my wedding, or even a few days after the honeymoon. And now I’ve been rambling for ages, but I feel slightly better, so there’s that. If you read all of this, thanks for bearing with my stupidity; not even I can do that XD

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The first thing Lance felt when he walked into his apartment was surprise. Sure, it was rare for Shiro to get home before him, but when he did, he was usually treated to warm takeout and an even warmer kiss as a greeting. But when he was actually able to get his shoes off without interruption, Lance was surprised.

And suspicious.

The heater kicked on, helping Lance shake off the lingering chill from outside, and bringing with it a delicious smell. And Lance found Shiro in the kitchen, a small smile stealing across his face at the sight. He leaned against the door jam to more fully appreciate the scene before him.

Shiro was cooking. Not exactly unheard of, but it wasn’t too often Shiro even wanted to work in the kitchen. Lance could smell a cake baking in the oven, and the chicken sizzling on the stovetop. Shiro was busy at the counter, finishing up the sauce for the pasta, and cutting up fruit for the salad he was making. It was a quiet, calm, and domestic moment.

But what Lance really loved was how, in the relative silence of their warming apartment, he could hear Shiro quietly singing.

“I miss the sound of your voice,” Shiro hummed, turning with a saucepan to mix the sauce with the chicken and pasta on the stove. The new addition caused a steady hiss and more popping noises. “And I miss the touch of y our skin.” A smile played on his face as he played with dynamics, experimenting with soft versus loud, eventually settling on a softer volume. Must’ve been a new song he was learning.

“And I miss the still of the silence, as you breathe out and I breathe in.” Shiro inhaled, breath catching and hands briefly pausing in their stirring. Lance was disappointed when Shiro didn’t immediately resume his song, but “patience yields focus” and all that junk. After focusing on the food for a minute or two, he began again.

“If I could walk on water, if I could tell you what’s next, I’d make you believe, I’d make you forget.” Shiro crescendoed, voice raw and intense with emotion. Damn, Lance wishes again that Shiro would sing more often in the apartment.

“So come on, get higher, loosen my lips. Faith and desire, and the swings of your hips,” Shiro chuckled, eyes a little distant even as he moved to take their dinner off the heat. Lance bit his lip.

“Just pull me down hard, and drown me in love.”

“Hey, slugger. You look like you’re enjoying yourself.” Lance tried to speak softly, just a little louder than a whisper, unwilling to break the peace Shiro had created in their home. Thankfully, he didn’t startle Shiro even a little bit. Instead, Shiro grinned broadly at his boyfriend, moving forward to give him a hug after turning off the oven. Lance welcomed the hug, relishing in the feeling of being home, of being there, with the man he loved, in an apartment full of warmth and good smells and a loving atmosphere. He could feel the stress of the day draining out of his aching body.

Shiro’s hand moved to cap the lock of Lance’s head, pulling his face to the crook of his neck, where he was more than happy to nuzzle. His arms were trapped between their chests, but Lance didn’t care. Shiro’s other free hand wrapped around Lance’s waist, coaxing him into rocking and swaying with him.

“So come on, get higher, loosen my lips. Faith and desire, and the swing of your hips.” Lance giggled, squirmed, when Shiro nudged at his hip. “Just pull me down hard, and drown me in love,” Shiro dragged out the last notes ass he let his voice taper off.

Lance knew they couldn’t stay like that forever, that their dinner was getting cold and Lance was exhausted and wanted to go to bed, but it was also very, very tempting to stay there, warm and comforted, so he sighed and relaxed more fully into Shiro’s arms, which tightened in response to his increased weight. Right then, Lance was going to enjoy the moment.

After all, they deserved it.

#shance #takashi shirogane #lance mcclain #shance fic #vld fic #voltron fic #vld #voltron #voltron legendary defender #soft shiro #domesticity #domestic shance #singer!shiro #jessi rambles #mywriting

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hikarinonodera · 5 years

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Singer Au

Allura owns a huge cafe with a huge stage. Many famous people have been there. But one fatefully day Lance came to the big busy city of Altea. Allura immediately took the initiative herself to invite Long eyelashes- I mean Lance to the cafe. But there’s really only two reasons she invited him. One, of course, being she loved his voice and his performances. But two being she loved competition. She knew the rest of her work crew and friends liked(had crushes) on Luscious lips-I mean Lance. And she wanted to rub it in their faces when(if) she got him first. Once he’s on stage he wows everyone there leaving them in awe. He dresses so cute. Oversized royal blue hoodie and some thigh length black tights(biker shorts). He’s like a dream but.. he’s real. Kinkade and Matt are snapping pictures of him and occasionally snapping some of his butt when he turns around. Allura, Coran, pidge, Hunk and nyma are watching in awe from behind the counter. Keith, Lotor, Sendak, and Antok are drooling. Rolo, Acxa, Zarkon, Kuro and Sven can’t stop staring at him. Adam, James, and Keith’s dad can’t stop smirking and staring making Lance nervous. Shiro, kolivan, Curtis and Alfor are having strokes from lance being too cute. And Krolia, Sven, Thace and Ulaz are trying to figure out how someone could be this perfect. Now it’s up to you to determine who Lance ends up with.

#lance eilish #bottom lance #lance mcgay #lance protection squad #lance mcclain #voltron lance #vld lance #au #au idea #singer au

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bragi-reads-this · 5 years

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Lullaby

Shiro was having a hard time. Meeting after meeting with the Tharians quickly became irritating, and Shiro is sure he’s one word away from going insane. He can tell from Allura’s sharp glances in his direction that she’s one more sharp response coming from his mouth away from cutting his head off. He can’t bring himself to care.

He’s relived when the last meeting of the day is over and they can head back to the castle. His head is starting to pound and he really wants to sit somewhere quiet so he can slowly die in peace. They usually go over everything on the way back to the castle, but neither of them want to hear anything ever again after listening to the high-pitched voices of the Tharians for 6 hour, so they settle with walking quietly back to their space-home.

Shiro lies on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. He had crashed on his bed as soon as he stepped foot into his room. He had left his door open in the process. Soft notes started drifting into his room. Someone, probably Lance, was singing a Spanish lullaby. He debated getting up and closing his door, but Lance’s voice was surprisingly beautiful and soothing. He closed his eyes and listened. Images of Lance glimmered on the inside of his eyelids. The words of the song twirled in his head as Lances smiling face, some directed at Shiro and some not, made Shiro’s heart warm and his body started to loose its tension. Shiro allowed himself to imagine Lance sitting in the bed with him, Shiro’s head in his lap, singing a comforting song as he lulled him to sleep. Maybe one day, but for now, he’ll settle with pretending as he’s pulled into sleep thanks to Lance’s beautiful voice.

#shance #singer lance #pining shiro #imagine lance singing a song about true love #lance mcclain #shiro #takashi shirogane #vld shiro #voltron shiro #voltron #voltron lance #vld

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vilestorm · 6 years

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Plance Band/Soulmate AU (One [Pidge])

Thank you for all the kind words! I’Ve decided to write this into a whole fic :3 it’s actually my first full-length fan fiction so wish me luck!

Pidge gasped loudly, shrieked, and hurled her book across the room, sobbing.

“How COULD you?! She loved you, but you chose HER? The ACTRESS?! The SECONDARY CHARACTER ONLY INTRODUCED FOR ROMANTIC DRAMA?! This ruins the whole story! I can’t believe it!” Pidge had recently finished reading the last installment to her favorite series, a romance drama about ghosts, murders, the living, the dead, and the recently dead. She’d enjoyed it very much until the end, having supported her ship through thick and thin, only to have it be denied by canon. Oh, well. There was always fanfiction. A low note resonated inside her head, and her ears perked up. A low hum turned her attention to the inside of her wrist.

Queen - Bohemian Rhapsody

Pidge grinned, forgetting her now ruined book. “That’s appropriate.” She hummed the tune along as the song played in her head, meaning that somewhere, somehow, her soulmate was listening to the exact same song in real time. The words were simply the name of the song, and the name of the artist. Recently whoever it was had been listening to a lot of sad songs, and Pidge wondered what was brining them down. She’d listened to upbeat songs herself, to try to cheer up her soulmate, but every time they would put on a different, sad song loudly to overpower her happy ones. Pidge had since given up.

Queen was quickly interrupted, leaving Pidge confused. Usually, her soulmate would finish their songs before moving on to other ones, but apparently not this time.

Voltron - Clairvoyant

Pidge furrowed her eyebrows, concentrating. The music was very odd, as if it was being sung in real time rather than being played and pre - recorded in a studio. She’d heard this type of thing before, and always just assumed her soulmate was listening to acoustic or exclusive versions of whatever song was playing. And there was a pattern - every song played was always by Voltron, the famous band that was taking the world by storm. Everyone was listening to their music, even Pidge. She’d been quite taken over by the music herself, and especially enjoyed the voice of the lead singer, whatshisface. Lou. Ling. Leon. No, wait, it was Lance. Voltron’s music wasn’t like other popular music, it was powerful and clear, like bells, much like a band her music app had recommended for her - For King And Country, but more ethereal. The guitar played lightly and in a slightly creepy undertone, not like hard rock. But what Pidge really thought the band needed was a keyboard pianist. They had Lance, the lead singer. Keith, the guitarist. Allura and Romelle, the backup vocals.Shiro, the bassist. Hunk, the drummer. Kosmo the husky, the mascot. All they really needed was the crisp electronics of a keyboard.

Pidge hadn’t heard this song before. It wasn’t bad; she liked it, but it wasn’t the band’s best work. The guitar was a little off, and the drums were just the tiniest bit off beat. Almost as if someone was practicing. Come to think of it, why hadn’t Pidge heard this song before? She had all of Voltron’s music downloaded and on a playlist that she kept on repeat, all four albums. She knew the lyrics to every single song by heart, and she would yell them as loud as she could if they came on the radio, which happened quite a bit. It would also annoy the living daylights out of her brother, Matt, but it was worth it. Annoying him was a plus.

As Pidge saw it, she was Voltron’s ultimate fangirl.

So why hadn’t she heard this song yet? And why was it so rough?

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brittysaucefanfic · 5 years

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Acting is Easy, Loving is Harder

Part 5

(First)(Previous)(Next)(AU)(AO3)

I’m late, I’m late, mierda I’m so late!

Lance rushes out the door of his hotel room half dressed, if that. His shirt, a simple blue tank top with Cuba immortalized in swirling font over his chest, is on wrong. He isn’t sure how he managed to get his left arm and his head through his left arm hole in the rush, but he did. And his jeans are unbuttoned and unzipped. He runs with one hand trying to keep them from falling down.

God, the paparazzi would have a field day with that one.

He also has his green jacket, the one all patched up with random pieces of cloth and patches. A Nasa patch, a U.S. Air Force patch, a hello kitty embroidery and a giant rose patch on the back all adorn his hand me down jacket in random spaces. His right arm, the hand keeping his pants up, are through the sleeve but that’s as far as he had gotten with it.

In his mouth hangs a half eaten bagel, and his hair is uncombed. Great, now he’s gonna have a frizzy nest on top of his head. Very classy Lance. In his left hand is a generous handful of things just one minor slip away from scattering behind him as he rushes to his rental. Included among these things are his keys, his keycard to the hotel room, phone, wallet, his right shoe, and for some reason a small jelly container.

Maybe for his bagel?

Who cares, Lance yells in his mind, I slept in! Lance mumbles out an apology through his bagel as he nearly crashes into an old couple, who stare at him in shock. He just barely manages to turn in time to avoid the windows and hit the doors at full speed instead.

That’ll leave a bruise for sure. Oh well, at least it might fit in with the next few scenes.

Lance almost faceplants his rental trying to open the door, not realizing he had locked it. Just great. He fumbles with his left hand to try and get the key in the door without dropping everything and almost succeeds. Alas, it is not his lucky day. He practically slams the car in drive after picking his things off the ground and peels out into traffic.

His bagel still hangs from his mouth.

As he drives he manages to work his pants closed, and slip on his shoe and fix his shirt. His hair is hopeless at this point, and he managed to pin his jacket underneath his butt so that’s out of the question for the moment. He peels into the parking lot the set uses, and is out of the car before he even kills the engine.

“Sorry!” Lance yells, finally unlatching his jaw around the bagel. Weird, where did this bagel come from? He doesn’t even like bagels. He misses the look of shock on the valet that’s sure to be there.

Lance skids around a corner so hard he nearly eats dirt, and he runs full speed towards the main set. People and employees scatter out of his way, and he’s too breathless to apologize anymore.

Got to get to set, got to get to set, got to get to set, Lance chants.

He rounds the final corner, kind of surprised he remembered the way so easily, and barrels straight for the main set. He has mere moments to realize that everyone is ready and already done with hair and makeup.

Shiro now has a wicked scar across his nose, and darker eyes, and his prosthetic has even been trussed up to look far more futuristic looking. Allura’s got sharp elfin ears and loads of jewelry layered on top of her almost medieval looking dress. She’s also taller.

Pidge is dressed just like she was yesterday. With her short locks teased and sprayed to stand up like she’s been electrocuted, but that’s it’s been a minute since it happened and her hair is starting to fall back into place. Her eyes nearly glow red, and she’s wearing tight fitted but boyish clothes, all in green shades.

Hunk looks just like yesterday as well, the yellow of his clothes making him soft in the face, but his giant war hammer, which is what Suyo uses in the first few episodes as a weapon, makes him look deadly. A small, almost unnoticeable scar now splits his left eyebrow.

The effects team surely outdid themselves.

Oh, but his eyes land on Keith last, and his breath is blown away even more than the running had. Shocking white hair, like Allura’s usual, falling into his face. Sharp violet gaze piercing his soul as they lock eyes.

Woah, super hot asshole.

Those violet eyes widen, and Lance tries to put on the breaks. He’s moving too fast, his momentum is too much to stop now. Lance crashes headlong into Keith, and they hit the ground in a tangle of limbs. He feels the breath that’s knocked out of Keith hit his cheek, and Lance collapses in gasping breaths on top of him.

They lay there for a moment, both dazed and out of breath, when Keith, of all of people, says a lame pick up line.

“We’ve gotta stop meeting like this.” Keith says into his ear. It’s so quiet that Lance is positive he’s the only one who heard it. It shocks him so hard, his dazed, oxygen and sleep deprived mind finds it hilarious and he bursts into uncontrollable giggles.

Keith stares at him, then his lips wobble, and suddenly they’re both a mass of tangled limbs just laughing until their stomachs hurt and their eyes are watering. Lance manages to roll off of Keith and onto his back beside him as he heaves in breaths between laughter.

“Good morning to you too Lance?” Shiro says, confused and staring down at him from above. His face pinches and that scar crinkles with his nose. Lance tries to breath but with the laughter and the running and the sheer hotness of the guy laughing beside him, he’s helpless.

“You’re late my boy!” Coran says, and it’s in the most cheerful tone Lance has ever heard. And that includes Veronica’s ‘I didn’t do it’ voice. The entirety of the main cast stare down at him from above, making a circle around the edges of his vision. He struggles to sit up, and gives up when his body refuses to cooperate.

“Good morning to you guys as well.” Lance says with a tiny smile. “And yeah, I was jet lagged so much I slept through all five of my alarm clocks.”

Allura makes a face like she’s choking.

“Five?” She says incredulously. Lance laughs again, and it’s so breathless it’s soundless.

“Used to be seven, but I thought I was getting better at it. Guess not.” Lance replies. Keith stands up beside him and dusts himself off. Lance stays on the ground with a new face staring down at him from above.

“Getting better at what?” Pidge teases. “Waking up?”

Lance scoffs at her.

“I like my beauty rest.” He says with a pout.

“I mean, you kind of need it.” Hunk butts in and Lance gasps in outrage.

“Betrayal! You too Hunkalicious?”

Allura starts giggling, covering her mouth with a hand. Which is a crying shame, because her smile is so pretty. Pidge snorts in the most unladylike of fashions. Shiro and Keith just look amused. Hunk though? Oh that pretty face of his turns bright red, darkening his already pretty dark skin. He pouts and Lance smiles innocently. Hunk always hates it when he uses pet names in public because he says it’s ‘embarrassing’.

Not sure how being called Hunk, as an actual name, is any different.

“Are you going to get up anytime soon?” Keith asks, a small and unsure smile on his face. Okay, maybe Lance judged him too quickly. Maybe. He’ll wait and see about that. Lance tries to scowl, though it comes out in more of a disgruntled pout.

“My body is paralyzed.” Lance says, and he visibly sees Pidge roll her eyes, even though she turned her head away from him in that moment. Hunk laughs and a thick, rough looking hand is shoved in his face.

“Come on then, you need to get hair and makeup done so we can start shooting.” Hunk says. Lance whines at the thought of having to walk all the way to the special effects studio. He widens his eyes like Marco taught him years and years ago, summons tears by sheer force of will, and starts making his bottom lip tremble.

The perfect puppy dog face, gets ‘em every time.

Hunk slowly crumbles before him, starting with his eyes. Twitch by twitch, Hunk’s face eases into an earnest expression usually used for hurt baby animals. Lance nailed Hunk’s soft spot right on the head. Boo yah.

“Okay,” Hunk says, his voice cracking with held back tears. “I’ll give you a piggyback ride, just stop looking at me like that.”

Lance breaks his puppy eyes with a face cracking grin and reaches his arms up in the air like a child. He goes as far as to make grabby hands. He’s still laying down, but that isn’t a problem for a man like Hunk. He scoops Lance up like a sack of feathers, and situates him on his back. Lance looks to a very impressed Keith.

Lance is only slightly ashamed to admit that impressing Keith was a win on Lance’s part.

Guess he isn’t such a burro after all.

Hunk carries him all the way to the hair and makeup trailer and plops him on the floor without warning. Lance makes a very undignified squeak and glares at Hunk as he walks away laughing. The special effects people all stare at him in shock. Yesterday everyone was in a rush to get him ready, so he didn't get to know everybody like he wanted to.

"Hey guys! Sorry about that, I'm Lance!" Lance says and pauses. He looks at the ground in a shyness he usually doesn't experience. One finger itches at his chin. "Though you probably already know that from yesterday."

One of the female artists-because the magic they pulled off yesterday in transforming Lance into Leandro so quickly deserves to be called art- starts giggling. She's an older woman, with waist length brown curls, greying slightly at the roots. Lance can remember his first impression of her being that she looks just like his mom. Even now the sight of the woman sends him into a strong bout of homesickness.

"Well then, Lance, I'm Layla. Now, get up so we can start getting you ready. You're late enough as it is." Layla says, scolding him gently. Lance flushes with embarrassment but complies to her demands.

He stands and stretches out his sore muscles. Sleeping in his suit last night really did a number on him. He was so overheated that he kept slipping in and out of consciousness, which is another reason why he slept in.

Around four this morning he finally got up and stripped down to his boxers.

"Right then miss Layla, what first?" Lance says with a smile. He's ushered into the changing room with his clothes shoved into his arms. He really does not want to wear the suffocating material again, but he has no choice. Stupid Leandro with his cool but suffocating sense of style.

Lance changes quickly, already dreading how much he’ll be sweating after today.

Layla sits him down in front of a mirror and Lance sees himself grimace. His hair looks awful, frizzy and sticking up all over the place. Some of his curls stayed tamed through his fitful sleep, but the rest of them just represent what a combed afro might look like. He’s just glad Layla and the others gave him a nice and breezy undercut.

“My word, what have you done to your hair cher garçon?” Says the hairstylist, a man Lance was introduced to yesterday as Freddy. Freddy is a flamboyant, talkative, fashionably dressed, bald black man who speaks French, usually peppering his English with a swirling lilt of French words. In other words, Lance’s kind of guy. Despite the short amount of time they had yesterday to get ready, he learned a lot about Monsieur Freddy.

Freddy is gay, he likes American pasta over traditional Italian for the simple fact that it’s easier to make, and he hates chocolate unless it’s in its purest, bittersweet flavor. He grew up as a hairstylist’s son, moved to the states when he was five, and has done the hair for every major celebrity Lance has ever heard of.

In no time the rat’s nest on Lance’s head is transformed into perfectly styled curls. His bangs don’t defy gravity like Shiro’s, so they hang delicately over his eyes. When his head is low, his bangs completely block his eyes from view, which is a total plus in Lance’s mind. Now he can perfect his anime quality acting just by hanging his head at a slightly lowered angle.

Freddy and Lance chat until the very last moment when the makeup artists swoop in to take over.

They mark his barely freckled nose with far more freckles than he naturally has, and darken his eyebrows, adding on a thin layer of concealer to hide any blemishes and bam. Leandro is ready to go. They hand him his sniper rifle prop and then Layla practically kicks him out the door.

A blast of heat smacks him in the face and he prays to any god that’s listening that he doesn’t sweat off his makeup. That would suck. Lance trudges his way back to set glumly wishing they were in an air conditioned building.

Hopefully filming will go a lot smoother this time around.

******

Spanish translation:

Mierda- fuck

Burro- jackass

French translation:

Cher garçon- dear boy

Monsieur- Mister

******

(First)(Previous)(Next)(AU)(AO3)

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