#and while he's devastated he isn't going to win the cup this year either

[catzy88]

i'm just saying, if this vgk vs. edm playoffs and the second draft pick beating the first draft pick doesn't revive the mceichel fandom (at least momentarily), we're beyond salvation 😭

[autisticlancemcclain]

fic rec friday 20

welcome to the twentieth fic rec friday! where, on friday, i rec five of my favourite fics. 

1. for we are the beautiful thieves by @caimani-ao3

Keith and Lance go undercover (sort of) at General Iverson's gala to steal back an Altean artifact the general stole while treasure-hunting. Keith's job? Sneaking away in the middle of the party to find the artifact. Lance's job? Looking pretty in a dress.

love love LOVE adventure fics this shit ROCKS. voltron?? thief archeologists whose main goal is to steal artefacts from rich asshole collectors and return them to where they came from?? iconique!! klance playing the pretty distrction?? iconique moreso!! 

2. ring my bell by @dumdum692 [EXPLICIT]

And granted, Keith has always been a sore spot for him in this way; Lance has always felt at odds with his domesticated temperament, and Keith holds absolutely none of that. Keith doesn't give two whopping shits about getting pimples, or if Stacy in English class thinks he has bad breath. Keith isn't standing zombie-eyed in the purple lights of a party, plotting woe-is-me narratives of his own melancholia and loneliness, gazing detachedly into a red Solo cup full of jungle juice - he just is, and that's always made Lance, in equal parts, devastatingly embarrassed and devastatingly horny.

Sadly, this scale weights significantly more towards the horny end as of late, because Keith is developing quite a few, very distinctly Galra characteristics, and it's driving Lance absolutely buck fucking nuts.

______________________________________________

Keith goes through puberty. Devastation ensues.

this fic is a proud truther of two important things: a) lance’s type is literally anyone who can kick his ass and look good doing it, and b) lance has a big vocabulary entirely so he can be as melodramatic as possible whenever he so pleases. and i for one am thankful for its service.

3. Cross My Path by @wittyy-name [EXPLICIT]

Lance owns a witch themed cat cafe that rescues black cats. Each one has a unique collar and color coded name to help tell them apart. He's not supposed to play favorites, but he's already adopted his favorite, Red, as his own. Cold and distant to everyone, Red is extremely affectionate to Lance. Needy. Clingy. Protective. But Lance doesn't mind. He makes Lance's home a little less lonely. He's a little weird, but aren't all cats? He loves his baby boy, and he's eternally grateful for the day that little black fluff ball crossed his path.

Lance doesn't think twice about Red's odd quirks. That is, until he wakes up with a naked stranger in his bed.

And hey! Turns out Red is actually a witch named Keith who's been cursed to be a cat for twenty years. A really hot witch who's still very affectionate towards Lance.

any fic that’s tagged with catboy keith is a winner in my book tbh. and this fic is AMAZING the entire concept is unbelievably cool and the storyline is adorable!! also healthy relationship boundaries and expectations for the win!! plus rough sex also!!

4. know by petalloso

Keith couldn’t feel his legs. Upon further realization, he couldn’t feel his arms either, or his hands. He could, however, feel Lance’s hands, and they were all over him, running up and down his chest in inspection, tilting his chin this way and that, pulling him up from the floor where he figured he’d landed probably because his knees had just given out on him.

“Stupid,” he heard Lance say. “You blew out your legs.”

those 2016 fics man!! they never miss they just dont!! insane to me that this author apologises for being ooc as if their portrayal of keith is not the most in character portrayal possibly ever lol. AND this fic has oldest child lance my beloved

5. stud by petalloso

“Ow.”

Keith stops in his tracks, listening. The voice comes again, louder and more elongated this time, muffled behind the door.

“Ouch,” it says, and then, “shit shit shit.”

lance IS the type of impulsive dumbass to pierce is own ears, and i thank this writer greatly for pointing that out. this fic is cute and sweet and silly which are my three for three basically

that’s it for today!! i’ll see y’all back next friday for the next fic rec post!!!  

[imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl]

Not Over You

A/N: This gif isn't mine, so if you're the owner, let me know so I can give you the credits.

Pairing: Keanu Reeves X Reader

Word count: 2.8K

Summary: Months after Keanu puts an end to your relationship and disappears, you bump into him, reawakening intense feelings.

×

You never expected to be the only human being on Earth who would go through life without an episode of a heart break. It would happen sooner or later, and you, like everyone else, would get over it. Eventually.

But you could never guess the one to give you such a painful experience would be Keanu Reeves, the one and only.

You met Keanu by mistake. An accident. In a day where your whole life was coming undone, two years ago. You had just lost your job, your parents were giving you a hell of a hard time about it, and you, seeking comfort in your boyfriend, found him half-naked with another girl. That made you drive insanely fast, through busy streets, only to stop on this bridge outside of the town. You had no intention of jumping, you just needed time to think and the wind was strong and heavenly. Maybe it could wash it all away.

It didn't. But a man decided to stop, assuming the worst, and asked you not to do anything reckless. You assured him you wouldn't, and a small, heart to heart conversation started. It took several minutes for you to finally turn and look at the man, and that almost gave you a heart attack. You couldn't believe your eyes. And you couldn't believe him, of all men, would pause his whole life just because of some random girl by the bridge.

But that was only the first day. He invited you for a coffee, and it took only a few days for you to get to the man behind the worldwide famous actor. And you fell in love with him. For a while, you thought he had fallen for you too.

But the media was restless. People soon found out about the age difference and that made them go crazy. News channel, tabloids, magazines, internet blogs, everything, they were all about Keanu's younger girlfriend. It didn't bother you though. You couldn't care less about what people think or say. But one day, it got to him.

One day, he decided to have an honest conversation with you about it. Keanu told you he felt old, so out of your league. Him. Out of your league. You remember laughing at this statement. But he didn't. He was dead serious as he pointed out all the things you couldn't share. How you belonged to different generations and never seemed to get each other's references. How you were into different things. It soon became a fight when you realized what he was doing. The yelling started and soon the crying. Keanu apologized and ended things. He wished you the best. He wished you to find someone your age, someone better than him.

That happened six months ago. It feels like years though. Since that day, you can only see him on TV. No texts, no calls. Nothing. Like he hasn't been in your life at all.

“(Y/N).” Your friend calls you, dragging you away from your thoughts. That's when you realize what made you remember him. Two men on your left, a few tables away, are talking about motorcycles. “You ok?”

“Yeah.” Nodding, you look down at your cup of coffee, still untouched. Your friend made you come to this new coffee shop early in the morning, and you wish you could enjoy it. But now that Keanu is once again in your mind... You find it difficult to take in the beautiful vintage decoration. The pastel colors and all the happy people around you, chatting and smiling.

“Please tell me your not–”

“I'm not.” You cut her off, taking a deep breath. “I was just... Thinking about this office party next week. I can bring someone. Wanna come?” Lying is not your thing, but if you tell Laura you're thinking about Keanu again, she won't let it go easily.

“Sorry. Next week will be hectic, I don't think I can.” Feeling her eyes on you, you sigh. “But on the weekend we can do something nice like going to the–” She stops talking suddenly, eyes wide, staring at something behind you.

“Laura?” Raising your eyebrows, you wonder which one of her many ex-boyfriends is here. “Do you need me to go so you can talk to him?”

“No, no.” Running a hand through your hair, you notice this person approaching by how she moves in her seat. Still, you don't turn to check who it is. The only boyfriend she had that you liked had to move to someplace in Europe. The others are all idiots, so why bother to look?

“Just tell me what you want to do.” Muttering, you finally take a sip of your coffee before putting the cup down again. Too bitter for your taste. Or is it just you?

“(Y/N).” The mention of your name isn't what startles you. Or what makes your heart, ripped in half, skip a beat. It's the voice. You haven't heard it in a very long time, but you recognize it immediately. You crave for it. “Hi.”

“I'll leave you two.” Laura stands up, taking her bag, and giving you a stare. You don't know what it means though.

She doesn't even give you time to think. Perhaps you should leave as well. But you're frozen, not able to even look at him.

It takes a few seconds until he takes a seat before you, where Laura was. Seeing Keanu now is... What? Torture, certainly. Because you just realized you want to jump in his arms again, hug him, kiss him. Is painful because you know you can't do any of those things. And you shouldn't want to.

But there he is, looking as good as the day you first saw him. Dark hair hiding one of his eyes, the stubble that always looks so rough, but you know how soft it really is. He's right there, and you could just stretch your arm and touch him.

There are a lot of things you want to say, and the words fight for a chance to be spoken.

'What the hell do you want?'

'Where have you been all this time?'

'I still love you.'

'Why did you came to talk to me?'

'Do you still love me?'

“Hi.” It's stupid how this is what wins in the end.

“How are you? It's been a while.” He hesitates a little, those dark eyes never leaving you, burning. How much you missed those eyes looking at you...

“Normal.”

“Just normal?”

“Just normal.” You should lie. Tell him you're absolutely fine. Happy as hell. Maybe you should even tell him you're going out with someone. But you just can't. You love him too much, and the time you had together was good. The very best. The way it ended doesn't change how amazing it was. So you just can't bring yourself to lie to him. But you don't tell the truth either. Keanu doesn't have to know how devastated you still are after he left. “You?”

“Guess I can say I'm normal too.” There are things left unsaid. From both of you. “Is it too bitter?”

“What?” You mumble, and he gestures at your coffee. He knows you. Too well perhaps. “Yeah. Why-why are you here, Ke?” When you notice how you just called him, it's too late. Cursing yourself, you bite your tongue. “Keanu.” Or should you say, Mr. Reeves? You don't know where you stand now. Friends? It can't be since he disappeared.

“I heard of this new coffee shop and decided to come and... When I saw you, I just had to come and talk.” He nods, maybe to himself. “But I can go if that's what you want.”

“No.” How could you want him to leave? “It's... It's good to see you again.” A smile finds its way to your lips. “After what? Three, four months?” You dissimulate, not wanting to just let it show how much you missed him.

“Seven months next week, I believe.” Is he counting? Why would he do that? “Too long.”

“Too long.” You're still speaking when a young couple stops by your table, excitedly talking to Keanu. You smile to see how he excuses himself, with an apologetic look, to give his fans attention. He's always kind to them, never being rude. When he stands up for a picture, you take the chance to leave, your heart sinking a little. After leaving the money on the table, you take your bag and walk away, doing your best to hold back the tears threatening to roll down.

You had imagined this moment a million times. Seeing him again. You thought you'd yell, curse him and bravely walk away. But this? You're walking away out of fear. You're running away from the feelings, too strong for you to handle. How is it possible to love someone so intensely after all this time?

“(Y/N)!” His voice comes with the familiar noise of his motorcycle. So you stop, breathing deeply, hoping the soft shadow of the three above you will hide your teary eyes. “I'm sorry about that, I–”

“You know I don't mind, Ke... Keanu.” Damn it.

“I... I want to talk to you. So maybe somewhere more private where we won't be interrupted?”

No. You don't want to talk to him. You don't want to pour salt on the wound. “Alright.” If only you were stronger.

Keanu gives you his helmet, and you put it on before climbing on the bike behind him. There's no choice but to hug his waist, so that's what you do, trying not to enjoy it so much. It's probably nothing. He probably just wants to apologize.

You can't help but notice he still keeps the same speed as before. Not as fast as he usually goes when he's alone. As much as this gesture warms your heart, you try to keep it distant. Try to keep it cold. Cold people don't get hurt.

You're not impressed when you stop at his place. Well, his house. One of them. He moved after breaking up with you. Keanu waits patiently for you to move to the ground. The bike is too high for you, so it's always a little complicated. Taking off the helmet, you hand it over to him, making your way to the front door. But halfway there you change your mind. Being inside his house is too much. It's too familiar, too... Too much. So you walk around it, straight to the backyard.

Sitting on the wooden table, you take in the view. The morning sun turns everything into a dream. You remember that the best pictures you have with Keanu were taken here after you either decided to crash here or passed out on his couch.

Memories. The damn memories never leave you alone.

“I forgive you.” You burst out when he comes to sit before you. “If you want to apologize for... I don't know, for anything. I forgive you.”

“I wasn't planning on this.” He starts hands together above the table. “But I saw you there and... I just had to.”

You don't know what to say, so you look down, unable to sustain eye contact anymore. What are you doing? What is he doing? “You disappeared.” It just comes out, suddenly, full of... Anger? Desperation? You don't know, but it's overflowing. “After everything we've been through, you broke up with and disappeared. Not a single call. Not even a text. Nothing!”

“I had to.”

“You had to?” A humorless laugh escapes your lips and you stand up, determined to leave. On foot, if that's what it takes.

“I had to because if not I'd come back to you.” He raises his voice a little, just enough to make you stop in your tracks, hands shaking a little. “I did what I did because of you.”

“No, you did it for yourself.” Turning around again, you sustain his stare. “I didn't want to end things. I love you!” It came out wrong. Didn't it? It was supposed to be in the past. “I loved you.” You correct yourself, a hand on your forehead. “I... I'm sorry. You think I'm too young for you and that's ok. You have the right to think that but don't put words in my mouth. I never cared about age.”

“Everything I wanted was you to have the chance of making a better choice. Someone your age who could keep up with all the pop culture things you're into.” He speaks slow, his voice soft and low again. Keanu never raises his voice at you. Well, he only does it get your attention when you're too mad to listen, but he never enjoys it.

“If I wanted someone my freaking age I'd be looking for him.” Stepping forward, you slam both your hands on the table. “When I fell for you, I wasn't paying attention to the numbers. I fell for you. You. Why can't you accept that?”

“The tabloids were saying that I was–”

“Taking advantage?” You finish it for him. “Yeah, they said a lot of mean stuff but I didn't give a damn. Our relationship was between you and me. The rest of the world didn't get a say in it.”

Keanu looks down, breathing deeply. You just stand there, waiting. Begging... Begging this means something. Something good.

“Say something, please.”

“I still love you.” The words hit you like a train, and you stand up straight, not strong enough to look away from him.

“Don't say that if you don't mean it.” You beg, your voice barely a whisper.

“I mean it.”

“Don't say that if you still think we can't be together because of this or that!” You gesture at nothing in particular, tears rolling down now, all the walls you put around yourself falling to the ground. “You broke my heart once, don't do that again.”

“I can't stop thinking about you.” Keanu stands up, walking around the table and stopping before you. “Every single day I had to fight the urge to call you. Visit you. To... Have you back, but I couldn't. That's why I moved away. And I only came back because I thought I got over you but... Clearly, I didn't.” When he takes your hand, you swear you feel the world slowing down. You have been dreaming of his touch for so long now that you just don't have to strength to push him away. You want him. And... If he wants you too...

“Ke, please don't–”

“When I saw you, it came back. Everything since that day on the bridge.” Pulling up your hand, he places a soft kiss on your knuckles. “Every hug, every kiss, every date. It reminded me of how much I missed you.”

It's useless to fight it. It's useless to put any effort into trying to step away now. Your arms move from his chest up to be around his neck as you end the small distance between your bodies. Keanu is quick to hug your waist and it feels like both your bodies move out of instinct. Like you missed each other in levels you can't even understand.

“What do you mean, Ke?” Your voice is weak, barely a whisper. Involuntary, you stand on your toes, needing, wanting to kiss him again.

“I don't care what they say. Tabloids, magazines, to hell with them. All I need, all I want is you and if you really don't mind having such an old man–”

“Everything about you draws me in. Inside and out.” Cutting him short, you caress his cheek, wondering if you should allow yourself to be happy. If this is really happening.

“I know, darling.” He takes a deep breath. “I know what I did hurt you very much but... If you're willing to try again...”

“If you ever break up with me again over this whole age shit or for anything someone who doesn't even know us says... I'll be the one to disappear this time.” You mutter with your eyes closed, using whatever is left of your strength to keep from kissing him. “Promise me.”

“The plans we had... About getting married, having kids... I want it all back. I want to get things where we left them.”

Biting back a smile, you nod, finally allowing your thirsty lips to meet his. And it feels like heaven, like getting a chance to breathe after being underwear for too long. He tastes just the same, like home. Some tears roll down, giving the kiss a salty taste, but you don't mind. They're tears of joy now.

When you pull away to breathe, he lifts you up, and you quickly wrap your legs around his waist. “You didn't get a chance to drink your coffee so let me make you breakfast.”

“Like before?”

“Yes. And if it's up to me, it'll be like that forever. For the rest of our lives or for as long as you want me.”

“Forever, then, Ke.” Smiling, you place a soft kiss on his lips. Yours now, once again. “Forever and always, babe.”