#but it's hard to know what we can attribute to her failure to maintain allies vs a matter of fairweather friends

[fideidefenswhore]

Do you think AB alienated her allies, sometimes?

I mean, for sure... I think the extent of that has been exaggerated by Alison W/eir, but you can definitely find examples of that. Like, Thomas Cheney, one of her relatives that she interceded for above Wolsey's protests, seemed pretty firmly in her camp. Then, by 1536 he's part of the faction that's supporting her stepdaughter.

Generally, though, imo, it's underestimated how difficult it is to maintain allies when one has power/influence, and how it's basically impossible to keep everyone happy all the time.

[anguianobrodan90]

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[some-cookie-crumbz]

We Are Stars

Title: We Are Stars Fandom: Voltron: Legendary Defender Pairing: Keidge Summary: Request for Pidge and Keith doing a little bit of dancing. Ended up a little sappier than I intended. Heavily inspired by this song: [link] Standard Disclaimer: If you read and enjoy this, please give it a like/ reblog so I know if I should write more. AN: Second fill for some requests I received. Will post the others soon, due to me still working on them.

She had done it again.

Pidge was normally a workaholic who focused more on her projects than maintaining her sense of personal care. It was something that he could relate and admire about her; within certain parameters, anyway. He had once watched her spend four days straight, running on nothing but these awful alien drinks that could only be described as Red Bull and Monster having some unholy love-child abomination together, to assist with some heavy repairs to an allied ship after a confrontation with a Galra fleet. It was obvious that her passion for technology and ability to learn about the most foreign of alien mechanisms was an asset to not only herself and their team, but the universe as a whole. Her being someone that would dedicate herself so fully to her work was another perk, revealing her under played attribute of reliability.

But there were points when she really did go a little overboard.

He had found her two other times passed out from one too many all-nighters working on new defenses for the castle or upgrades for the Lions and the like. The first time he’d found her like that, she had gotten defensive and confrontational immediately, escalating so that they were bickering with one another pretty aggressively. It had occurred only a short time after they had joined Team Voltron, before either of them had an understanding of the other, and shortly after Pidge had nearly left to go looking for her family. After having a bit of time to cool down and some bartering on Keith’s part, Hunk agreed to play mediator and got an answer as to what was up with her.

She’d been trying to stay distracted because her Dad’s birthday was a few days away.

Keith had sympathized immediately. Years after the fact, there were still days that he ached for his own Dad; the holidays and birthdays being significantly painful. Much like Pidge, he found things to keep himself distracted. He did, however, have someone he could trust and talk to when the feelings were too hard for him to bear alone in Shiro. And for Pidge? Well, if he had to reason a guess, he figured that Matt had probably been that person for her before Kerberos. The way she talked about her brother and father made it clear how much she loved and admired them. And with what little he knew about her time at the Garrison, she’d been more focused on her mission and goals than making any long standing friendships. She got on well enough with Lance and Hunk, but neither of them could offer up much information that she had willingly shared with them, and Pidge herself had been too preoccupied to pay attention whenever either of them had tried to share with her.

So Keith had sought her out and, very bluntly, told her that he had an idea of what she was going through and that he was there if she wanted to talk.

At first she’d seemed ready to reprimand him for his words, judging by how her mouth had curled halfway up in a defiant snarl, but the corner of her lips twitched in hesitation. She instead whipped around, shifting with the blueprints she’d been looking over with more gusto than necessary, and barked at him to leave her alone and stop wasting her time. He had yielded at that point, but two days later when Samuel Holt’s birthday was, he went and checked on her anyway. She was at her desk, body wound so tight he wondered how she hadn’t snapped in two, putting together some kind of small, round electronic device.

“Go. Away,” She had said, her tone flat and final and short.

“What are you working on?” Keith asked abruptly, walking over and leaning his hip against her work station, pointedly ignoring her words. Her hands halted briefly in their frenzied work of twisting the device this way or that, trying to get the two pieces to snap together, and she lifted her head to glare at him. The heavy bags under her eyes killed the effect she was going got a bit, but he opted not to call attention to it. He instead indicated the device with a dip of his head and calmly repeated, “What are you working on?”

Her eyes shifted from him to the device and then the blueprints before her, brows knit together in a mix of bemusement and frustration. He could practically hear the gears in his mind twisting and turning, trying to determine what angle he was coming at her from exactly. Slowly her gaze moved back to him and she held the device up so he could get a better look. “Well, I’m intending for it to be a sort of short-circuiting device,” She said calmly.

He nodded and hummed, pulling a spare chair over and sliding to sit a bit closer to her. “Wouldn’t that have bad repercussions for our team if we were too close when it went off?” He quizzed.

She rolled her eyes and her lips kicked up in a small smirk. “I’m not an amateur, you know. What I’m trying to do is key it up so that it can tell the difference between us and the enemy. It’ll be able to read our electrical signals and determine that we shouldn’t be effected and specifically target any device without a matching wavelength,” She said calmly. He watched as she grabbed a small screwdriver and began take the outer shell off of one, pointing and explaining how the mechanisms inside functioned. He understood a decent amount of what she was saying, but it wasn’t really why he’d asked.

The more she spoke, the more the tension in her body gradually relaxed, the spark in her eye kicking back up.

The next time she got in a funk like that had been the anniversary of when the Kerberos mission failure was announced. Keith himself understood the bitterness and anger bubbling inside her – he himself still struggled with the feelings that deceit left in him, even though he knew Shiro was alive and well – and once again took it upon himself to offer his assistance in the form of a distraction. They had just finished up a battle to free a Galra-controlled planet and the Lions were all pretty rough off. Hunk had sprained an ankle on the mission – an injury he insisted didn’t warrant a trip to the healing pods – and he had volunteered to help Pidge with the repairs in Hunk’s stead. Having someone to work with and help teach seemed to be a good way to get her mind off of things. Keith was well-versed in the basics of repairs and self-taught himself a bit in the way of mechanics, but Pidge was on a whole other level and learning some of her tricks was beneficial for him and seemed to be a stress relief for her.

This time, however, he had no idea what had set her off or how to distract her.

They were taking a small break from battle to focus on recruiting more planets into the Voltron Alliance, coasting in the stars from planet to planet on the outskirts of galaxies where the Galra had yet to take complete control. There was no need for battle – only an occasional air show with the Lions to prove who they were – nor were there any repairs needed, as she, Coran and Hunk had taken care of all that before they started recruiting in the first place. Furthermore, they were running low on spare parts and components for her to tinker around with, so the most she could really do was blueprints and rough drafts.

Keith knew she was going to need a distraction of some sort; so, with a hard swallow of his pride, he asked Lance for a favor.

Despite not being able to do much else, Pidge was still at her desk in the hanger, scratching away at some graphing paper as if her life depended on it. She shifted a bit when the doors opened but seemed unconcerned with someone coming in. “Hey,” He said quietly as he approached, one hand shoved in his jacket pocket and palming the device Lance had agreed to lend him.

She let out a small grunt of acknowledgement, setting her pencil down to grab an eraser. He watched as she erased a line that she had drawn connecting two pillar-like objects and brush away the little bits left behind. “Did you need something?” She asked, her tone a mix of curt and tired that he never thought possible. Whatever was plaguing her mind was really getting to her.

“Nothing I need but there is something I want,” He said calmly, pulling out the small device. He tapped the small center button, put in the unlock code and skimmed through the little iPod for the playlist he’d cobbled together over the last three days of research. While he and Lance had very different tastes in music, there had luckily been a few songs that Keith was fond of or knew well enough to get a one-hour playlist going.

Pidge slowly turned her chair to face him fully as he set the little device down on the corner her desk, the soft acoustic chords of The Only Exception by Paramore starting up from the small speaker. “What are you-?” She was cut off by his taking a step back and offering her one of his hands.

“Dance with me,” He said, holding a breath after the words left his mouth. This was a complete gamble for him; after all, he had no idea if something like this would be to Pidge’s liking or if she might read what this really was. They’d had many conversations about various things but dancing and musical taste were not subjects they had ever touched on. On top of that, dancing was something he’d always considered to be intimate and, well, incredibly romantic. He only hoped that she wouldn’t read this as a confession – as he wasn’t ready or sure how to approach that topic – and laugh him right out of the hanger.

Indigo locked with bronze for a full minute before the weight of her hand settled in his. “I’m warning you now that I’m not very good. Most of my dancing background is being led on my dad’s feet in the kitchen and ballet classes when I was in grade school,” She warned him, her tone just a bit softer than before.

“I’m choosing to read the ballet lessons to mean you can at least match a beat,” He teased lightly as he guided her to the empty space between she and Hunk’s respective work spaces. It was a comfortable enough space that they could move with relative freedom without the risk of bumping or knocking anything over. She laughed slightly at his comment and settled to matching her steps with his, glancing down briefly at their feet.

The first few songs went by easily enough, all being softer and slower songs that are easier to sway to. For the most part, Pidge was still tense and uneasy, but a bit more fluid than she had been perched up on her chair. When they were greeted by the severe mood whiplash of The Macarena pumping out the speaker, though, she let out a few let snorts, clearly struggling to keep back her laughter. He grinned a bit and stepped back to perfectly follow the dance instructs of the song, which only made her laugh even more. “Where did you learn that?” She chortled, reaching up with one hand to wipe at her eye lightly.

“My baby-sitter used to teach me goofy dances when I was really young because my Dad thought it was cute,” He said lightly. He swallowed down the painful sting the little bit of nostalgia left in him and beamed when Pidge started trying to imitate the steps. “It’s really easy if you just listen to the beat and the steps. Here, let me help you.”

He slid behind her and tried to help guide her, the two of them working like an odd, poorly coordinated puppet show, but they were laughing the whole time. The next song was another peppier, upbeat jam that Keith didn’t recognize, but Pidge seems to be as she started humming along. He twirled her around with a bit of a flourish and the two started up a terrible mockery of a tango. The next song was some song from Grease that led to Pidge teaching him how to do the hand-jive dance from the film. That was followed up by a sandwich of Pop by N’Sync in between two Backstreet Boys songs; Larger than Life and The Call, respectively, and they dissolve into less of actually dancing and more tripping over each other’s feet while doing intentionally terrible karaoke. Those three were followed by Angry White Boy Polka by Weird Al Yankovich, which felt like the cherry on top.

Pidge’s mood seemed to dip slightly when I Bet My Life by Imagine Dragons came on, which seemed odd to him. It was another song that was a bit more boisterous and energetic, with a pleasant enough sound to it. She started to pull back from him but he nudged her closer. “Something’s bothering you. Tell me what it is,”

She grimaced and let out a long, drawn out groan in response, her gaze darting to various other points in the hanger.

“Pidge,” He said more sternly, one hand moving to catch her chin and force her to look at him, “I’m not a mind reader. Tell me what’s bothering you.”

She stared at him for a moment before she moved closer to him. She shifted up to her tip-toes, resting her chin on his shoulder and tilting her head a bit, the ends of her hair teasing along his cheek. The hand that had been on his opposite shoulder had slid to wrap around his neck, her fingers fidgeting with the back collar of his shirt a bit, while the other had slithered to wrap around his side and rest that hand on the middle of his. “My mom,” She said softly, voice coming out small and strained, only audible due to the small delay as the iPod shuffled to the next song.

He leaned his own head against hers, his cheek pressing into her temple and a small sliver of her ear, and hummed softly. “You miss her,” He said quietly, slowly beginning to sway them to the gentle tempo of the song.

“I just… It would have been her and Dad’s wedding anniversary today. And he’s not there to be with her to celebrate. Hell, she’s all alone on Earth thinking that we’re all probably dead,” She choked out, her last statement coming out as a borderline hysterical laugh. She tilted her head and pressed her face into the crook of his neck, a faint blush tinting his cheeks. “I know I did the right thing in what I did… Know that it’s better I stay here as a Paladin so I can find Matt and Dad… But it still hurts to know how much she must be suffering.”

He hummed quietly and wrapped his arms more snuggly around her, shifting so that her feet are resting atop his as they swayed to and fro with the song. “Maybe we can talk to Allura about jumping to Earth sometime just so you guys can tell your families you’re alive,” He suggested. She hummed noncommittally in response. He gently stroked one hand along her back in slow, small circles that he hoped she took comfort in. “And, I know it’s probably not worth much, but I’m glad you’re here.” She sniffled quietly and pressed more into, her holds on him tightening ever so slightly, and he felt a small smile turn up his lips as they drifted to the slow beat of the song.

I see nothing worse, than to sail this universe without you.