#i Love coran

[autisticlancemcclain]

“—Lance isn’t even paying attention!”

Lance looks up from his phone, noticing Pidge whining to Coran for the first time.

“I’m paying attention,” he lies.

Pidge ignores him. “It’s not fair! He should forfeit his movie vote! He’s not even gonna watch, anyway.” She turns to Lance, glaring. “He’s gonna be too busy texting Keith and making ga-ga eyes at his phone.”

“I will not!” he says, rapidly trying and failing to delete the ‘wish you were here, Dropout’ text he just sent. “I don’t — I wasn’t even texting Keith! I haven’t talked to him in days!”

Not a single person is fooled. Even Coran, who can regularly be counted upon to be on Lance’s side, is raising an eyebrow.

“Honest!” Lance insists.

“Ugh,” Pidge complains, glaring at him before flopping back on the couch. “I still think your vote shouldn’t count.”

Regardless of her petulance, Lance does get a vote, thank you very much. Unfortunately it comes with an abundance of teasing and wiggling eyebrows from the rest of the team, but whatever. At least his point was made, and he doesn’t have to watch whatever nerd documentary Pidge was gunning for.

To his credit, he does actually try to pay attention to the movie. It seems mildly interesting, at least, some kind of Altean classic, and usually he’d be able to at least appreciate the costumes. He really does try.

Fifteen minutes in, his phone buzzes slightly.

Absolutely not, he tells himself. Do not Pavlov yourself to his ringtone, because that would be humiliating. You can go two hours without talking to him. You’re basically a grown-up, for fuck’s sake. You barely even like him mostly. Plus, if Hunk reads over your shoulder and sees the messages you’re sending to him you will never recover.

Nodding resolutely to himself, he shoves his phone deeper in his pocket and returns his attention to the movie. There’s some kind of conflict happening, maybe between the two romantic leads?

Whatever. Lance is paying attention. The movie is just…unclear.

The second time the phone rings, reasoning with himself is much harder. After all, Shiro isn’t even trying to pretend he’s not falling asleep into his popcorn — he’s not paying attention. And Hunk is intently braiding Allura’s hair, so he’s not paying attention either. The point of family movie night is to spend a few hours in each other’s presence outside of training or missions or meals, so it totally counts even if Lance is on his phone, right?

He has to physically sit on his hands to keep himself from checking his messages. Pidge will needle you about it for eternity, he reminds himself, increasingly desperate.

The third time it buzzes, he gives up. His hands fly to his phone so fast he cringes at himself.

How embarrassing.

Fully aware his ears are bright red, he clicks on the notification, opening his and Keith’s communication line.

mullet-head:

lance? you there?

mullet-head:

did you fall asleep during movie night

mullet-head:

are you pulling an old man shiro

Lance smiles to himself, glancing over at the snoring leader of Voltron, drooling on Coran’s shoulder. Keith never misses a chance to clown on his brother, even if Shiro can’t even see it.

loverboy:

i did not fall asleep u butthead

loverboy:

i’m not shiro

loverboy:

i’m not six i don’t need naps

Keith doesn’t respond for a second, and Lance pictures him with his head thrown back, eyes squinted shut and mouth open wide in the startled way he laughs when he unintentionally finds Lance funny. It makes something warm and simultaneously bitter churn in his belly, thinking of how many lightyears away he is from that brighter-than-the-sun laughter.

mullet-head:

stop making me laugh i’m going to get caught

mullet-head:

i’m on some boring patrol i’m not supposed to be on my phone

Lance narrows his eyes in alarm. If that dumbass is texting him instead of paying attention on a mission, he swears —

loverboy:

patrol where??

loverboy:

please don’t tell me ur dicking around on ur phone on a GALRA BASE

mullet-head:

no no no it’s some supply centre

mullet-head:

look

The texting bubble spins for a moment, loading, then a video comes through. Lance glances around the room surreptitiously, but no one is paying any attention to him. Pidge is chatting quietly with Allura, Coran is totally wrapped up in the film, Shiro’s still sleeping, and Hunk has moved to Allura’s other side to braid the hair on that half of her head. Still, he turns the volume as low as he can, angling the phone away from the others.

The video footage is shaky at first, eventually settling on Keith’s face. He looks good — well fed, healthy.

Handsome.

Embarrassed, Lance pauses the video, taking a moment to observe Keith’s face. It’s stupid and gay and sentimental, but — Lance has been looking for a reason to ask Keith to send him a picture, a video, hell, a voice message. Something to confirm, aside from texts, that he’s alive and well, something for Lance to hold on to, a glimpse of the face he’s missed so dearly (not that he’ll admit it). He’s been too embarrassed to ask, but wanting to feel like he’s in the same room as Keith again.

“I thought the Arizona desert was boring,” video Keith says, exasperated. “But at least it has cool lizards. This place has nothing but rocks, sand, and more rocks. Look.”

The video flips around, showing off Keith’s view. He slowly moves the camera to the side, presumably so Lance can see just how boring the rocks and sand and more rocks is.

Lance squints.

Hang on a second.

Is that flurexonomite?

He rewinds the video slightly, pausing it when he sees it again. He brings the phone close to his face, looking as closely as he can, and lets out a delighted little laugh when he sees it.

It is! It’s flurexonomite!

loverboy:

GET ME THAT ROCK

loverboy:

PLEASE

He screenshots the frame with the rock in it, circling it and sending it back.

loverboy:

THIS ONE

mullet-head:

are you serious

mullet-head:

i send you a video of this boring ass desert that i’m stuck in

mullet-head:

and you focus

mullet-head:

on a rock

mullet-head:

you massive nerd

Lance pouts, even though Keith can’t see it and feel properly guilty. That’s not fair. He’s not a nerd. Rocks are just cool! And he hasn’t been able to find flurexonomite, possibly the coolest of all space rocks that Coran has ever told him about, anywhere!

loverboy:

PLEASE JUST GET ME THE ROCK I WILL LOVE YOU FOREVER

mullet-head:

i cannot believe what i am reading with my own two eyeballs

mullet-head:

you

mullet-head:

who calls hunk and pidge a nerd every single day for any reason

Lance can’t help his defensive scoff.

“Everything okay, buddy?” Hunk asks, beyond amused. Lance shoves his phone in his pocket, or tries to, but he’s flustered, so somehow in his panic the phone goes flying out of his hand and onto the floor, face-up, messages clearly displayed.

Lance has never moved so quickly in his life.

He scrambles to the floor faster than he can even register he’s doing it, rolling right off the couch and throwing himself at the device. Unfortunately, Pidge reaches it first, scooping it up with a cackle and tossing it to Hunk.

“Read it out loud!”

“No!” Lance screeches, lunging after the device. Hunk is quick, though, standing on top of the cushions and holding the phone far out of his reach.

“‘Wish you were here, Dropout —’” he starts, gleeful.

“Stop! Shut up! That was a typo!” He attempts to climb Hunk to no avail; the man simply holding him away with one big arm. He’s not even struggling.

Lance knows how embarrassing some of those messages are. He cannot let them see the light of day. The time has come for drastic measure.

Somehow anticipating Lance’s impending violence, Hunk tosses the phone to Allura, who catches it easily and runs to the other couch.

“‘Saw someone dressed in all black on our last diplomatic mission and thought of your emo ass,’” Allura recites.

Lance screams, collapsing to the floor. He won’t be able to wrestle his phone away from her. She could kill him with a toothpick, probably.

He is doomed.

Allura clicks a few buttons and then laughs particularly evilly, making something ice cold shoots through Lance’s veins.

She hasn’t found his notes app, has she?

He can’t risk it. If anyone finds out what he’s written on there — oh, God, there are angsty song lyrics. About Keith. He is going to die. He is going to melt into a puddle of humiliated goo. This cannot happen.

With an ear-splitting war cry, he jumps to his feet, sprinting at her at tops speeds and tackling her to the ground. Before she can react, he yanks the phone from her hand and scrambles away at the speed of light. He dashes out of the common room before anyone can stop him, speeding to his room and locking the door behind him. He walks over to his bed and flops onto it, screaming into his pillow as loudly as he can, face the colour of a red star going supernova and just as hot.

“Every part of being alive is a prison,” he laments to no one. He vows to wallow in his own self-pity for all of eternity.

His phone buzzes.

He gets up to check it so fast he honestly has to take a moment to consider if being this gay is truly worth it.

mullet-head:

video.attachment

He brightens. Two videos in one day?!

Being this gay is worth it, apparently!

“You are truly the biggest nerd I know,” video Keith tells him solemnly. His indigo eyes are bright in amusement — soft, even. He takes two steps and then bends down — Lance keeps his eyes firmly on his friend’s face, he does, he does — and picks up the brown, dusty rock.

Lance heart skips a beat when he realizes it’s the exact right rock, the first time. Keith must have looked very carefully at the photo to get the right rock, for all his teasing. The rock is as tiny as a pinky nail, and it doesn’t exactly stand out.

God, Lance loves him so fucking much.

Video Keith slips the rock into his pocket. “You’re lucky you have me, you goober.”

The familiar banter makes Lance smile wider. It took he and Keith a long time and a lot of understanding to come to the point where they are now, the familiarity, the comfort he knows Keith must feel around him to let his guard down so blatantly, to be so transparently teasing and playful.

It makes his heart hurt, a little. He wishes there wasn’t a screen and a bajillion miles between them.

———

The worst part about the Blades, Keith thinks, is that there’s absolutely zero in between. He’s either bored out of his mind, polishing his sword while patrolling some random supply station, or he’s running for his life, barely making it out of an exploding Galra warship in time to keep all his limbs. There are no middle moments, no time for him to be anything but praying for death to at least put him out of his mind-numbing misery or praying to make it out of a situation alive. No family meals, no strange space mall supply runs, no training with Altean superhumans.

He misses his family.

But he knows he can’t go back. At least not permanently. He made this decision for a reason, and that reason is more important to him than a little bit of boredom or some measly mortal peril.

(Lance is more important to him than a little bit of boredom or some measly mortal peril.)

He sighs as he stares at the bunk above him, tracing the shadows of the bed for the zillionth time. He’s not tired at all, but there’s fuck else for him to do in between now and his next mission. He’s already trained all day today, and there’s only so much he can do with a sword before he wants to put it through his own head.

He misses training with a partner.

He shifts around, looking for his phone. It’s late, and he can’t text Lance — the dumbass is in a healing pod right now because he pulled a Keith and tried to fight a nine foot tall Galran commander with his own two hands to cover for someone — but maybe he can send him a couple messages, anyway. Just for when he wakes up.

It’s not like he has anything better to do.

He leans over as far as he feasibly can in his bunk, trying to reach his uniform. He manages to hook his finger around the sleeve, pulling it closer until he can reach his pocket. He thinks he left his phone in the right one, if he can just pinch the corner —

His hand runs over something small and rough, and he stills.

He pulls out a rock, and for a minute he’s confused — he just washed this thing and he’s been on base for three days, how the hell did a rock get in there — then it hits him.

He smiles. This is Lance’s dorky rock.

He leans back onto the mattress, holding the rock out in front of him. It sparkles slightly in the low light of the barracks, it’s many minerals catching the glow of the Balmeran crystals. It looks like a tiny little jewel in his hands, like a sparkling piece of amber.

Like Lance’s eyes.

Immediately he’s embarrassed with himself for thinking it. It’s so — it’s such a fucking gooey thing to think, to compare this sparking crystal to the deep brown of his teammate’s eyes. It’s not even the right brown, anyway. This rock is on the lighter side — Lance eyes aren’t as ambery orange. In the right shadowy lighting, they’re more of a black, so endlessly dark that you could lose yourself in them, that you could be swallowed right up in the look.

Not always, though. Keith lifts the rock up a little higher, holding it right in front of one of the crystals, and squints, letting his eyesight go blurry.

Once, when they were on a planet startlingly like Earth, Keith and Lance snuck off from a gala and ran to the beach to watch the sunset. Lance has smiled so wide, then, squishing his whole face, and when the golden rays of the settling sun had hit his eyes, they melted into a honeyed amber the exact same shade of the crystal. Keith remembers his mouth going dry, his mind going completely blank. He’d been so starstruck by the sight that he hadn’t even dared to breathe.

Lance had thrown sand at him for staring, and cackled as Keith cussed him out.

Keith pulls his blanket up to his chin, smiling. He closes his eyes, rhythmically rubbing the roughened crystal.

He falls asleep faster than he ever has before.

———

The castle is buzzing with excitement.

Most of its resident are too excited even for words. Breakfast is a mess, everyone bouncing in their seats, grinning so wide they can barely eat. Pidge inhales her food so fast she chokes. Hunk sporks himself in the nose, not paying attention.

It’s visiting day.

In less than two vargas, Keith is going to land a pod in the hangar, here to stay for two full days. One of those days will be a mission, sure, but after that they’ll have several hours to just hang out with their friend for a while, catch up, remember how much they miss him. It’s exhilarating.

They all gather in the hangar when he messages to say he’s close, practically vibrating in place. None of them speak, too pumped for words. They all watch the doors with wide eyes, reading to sprint the moment they open and Keith lands safely.

Only, one of them is too impatient to wait that long.

“Keith!” Lance cries, sprinting forward when the pod is a foot from the ground. Before the pod even lands, the hatch is thrown open, and Keith comes tumbling out, half falling to the floor.

“Lance!”

They crash into each other so hard it’s a miracle they manage to stay standing, embracing so tightly it has to be painful.

“You know, I was once married,” Coran remarks. “I went on a two-decaphoebe exploratory mission in that time. When I returned, I was not embraced that tightly.”

“That’s because you didn’t have an intensely homoerotic rivalry and then a weird half-friendship half-romantic relationship you refuse to acknowledge as such that racketed up your sexual tension to levels that cannot be recorded,” Shiro explains.

Four pairs of eyes blink at him.

“Nobody is as gay as they are,” he simplifies.

“Well, gay or not, I’ve lost patience. Lance does not get to hog all the Keith time, not on my watch.” Hunk marches towards the couple (couple of besties) and lifts them both off the ground in a hug that looks to have rearranged their spinal cords. “Keith! Buddy! We missed you!”

The rest of the team rushes in soon after, hugging and holding and generally just piling Keith with all the love they’ve pent up in his absence. Keith is bright red by the end of it, but visibly pleased, obviously flattered.

“I missed y’all too,” he says. “Seriously. Blades aren’t the same.”

With a herculean amount of strength, they manage to pull away to give Keith some space, heading towards the briefing room to prepare for their mission. They have a fleet to destroy, after all, and an Empire to cripple.

And, of course, the faster they complete their mission, the more time they can spend together with no obligations looming over their heads.

They debrief quickly, making sure not to miss any important information but determined not to dilly dally. They split up to suit up, then run off to their respective hangars, ready and rearing to go. Keith lingers for a second next to Lance.

“Good luck, Sharpshooter.”

Lance grins. “I don’t need it, Samurai. I’m going to kick your ass.”

“Wrong ass to be kicking, dontcha think?”

“Oh, shut up.”

“Keith, you’re with me,” Shiro reminds him, when neither fool looks to be focusing on the impending mission, gently knocking his brother’s shoulders.

Keith nods. “Yeah, coming.” He jogs away from Lance, flashing him one last smile. As he turns to corner, he pulls out the crystal from his pocket, gently pressing it to his lips before slipping it back where he got it.

“What’s that?” Shiro asks, gesturing to the pocket.

Keith looks shifty, like he was caught doing something he shouldn’t. “Uh, just a good luck charm.”

“Since when do you believe in luck?”

Keith shrugs. “Since I started feeling lucky, I guess.”

Far behind them, stopped to tie his bootlace, Lance stares at where the brothers disappeared into the Black Lion’s hangar, wide-eyed.

He recognises that rock.

———

Several hours later, six paladins dock back on the castle, exhausted but satisfied.

“Man, I missed having a full team. That mission was way less horrible than usual,” Pidge says.

“Indeed,” Allura agrees tiredly.

“Almost like we had a good luck charm,” Lance whispers to himself, too quiet for anyone else to hear.

Shiro smiles at them all. “You did great, team. This was by far the most successful mission we’ve had in months.” He turns his smile to Keith in particular, who grins right back. “We missed you, buddy.”

“Missed you too,” Keith murmurs.

“We’ll have plenty of time to catch up tomorrow,” Coran says. “Right now we are all exhausted. Off to bed, my dears.”

They all comply without protest, stumbling out of the bridge and down the halls to their rooms. Keith and Lance walk together. It makes Lance smile, remembering when they used to walk each other to bed, everyone else long asleep, stupid tired after a late night of planning. He doesn’t miss the stress, but he does miss leading with Keith, more than he’d like to admit.

“Hey, wait,” Keith says as they approach their bedroom doors, hand on Lance bicep to stop him.

“What’s up?”

“I, uh, have something for you.” He digs around in his pockets, looking panicked for a moment when he can’t find whatever it is he’s looking for, then visibly relieved when his fist encloses around it. He holds it out to Lance, who accepts it without question. Onto Lance’s palm he drops a sparking brown crystal.

“The flurexonomite,” Lance says, grinning.

Keith rocks back on his heels. “Yeah. I’ve been keeping it safe, you nerd.”

Lance looks up at him softly, unable to summon any playful exasperation at the tease. “Thank you, Keith.”

Keith smiles softly at him. “‘Course.” He puts his hand on his lockpad, opening the sliding door. “Night, Bluebell.”

“Goodnight, Willie Nelson.”

———

The next day is as crowded and energy-filled as expected. To avoid fights over Keith-time, the paladins had made a schedule: most of the day will be spent all together, but each person gets one designated hour of one-on-one time to do as they please. Keith gets dragged from person to person, blushing every time someone grumbles about not having enough time, from sparring with Shiro, swimming with Lance, and painting his nails with Allura.

He cries four separate times. It’s nice to remember how loved he truly is.

As days tend to do, however, it eventually comes to an end. Supper is a somewhat bittersweet affair, everyone knowing that once it’s over, Keith has to head back to his pod, and they won’t see him again for weeks, even months.

They try to make the most of it.

Hunk and Lance cook up something to honour the occasion, Pidge at the kitchen door with Lance’s gun to prevent Shiro, Coran, and Keith himself from so much as looking at the food so they don’t fuck it up somehow. Allura serves her solemn duty as taste-tester, ensuring all food is fit for a royal feast.

It’s amazingly thoughtful, even though Pidge is way too trigger happy. Keith cries again halfway through supper, and half the table joins him.

By the time the team walks him to his pod, they’re all pretty cried out, and determined to put on a happy face. They all hug Keith for way too long and with way too much force, each making him swear to call and text frequently, and to not do stupid things or get himself killed. Keith promises to do one of those things.

Eventually they all, with very knowing and smug looks, wave goodbye and head out, leaving Lance and Keith alone. Both pointedly pretend that they’re not embarrassed about it.

“I have something for you,” Lance says, when Shiro finally exits.

Keith glances at his gigantic care package of collective gifts from the rest of the team, raising an amused eyebrow. “Will I have space for it? The barracks at the Blade are small as shit, you know.”

Lance huffs a laugh, nervous smile pulling at his lips. “It’s, uh, pretty small. Promise.”

He takes a deep breath, steeling himself, then grabs something out of his pocket, holding his fist out to Keith. In his outstretched palm, a mirror of the night before, he drops a silver chain, attached onto a small —

A small, brown stone.

The flurexonomite.

“Good luck charm,” Lance explains quietly. He hesitates for a moment, then powers on. “And a piece of me to carry with you. If you want it.”

For a moment Keith gapes at the precious thing in his palm, the chain Lance must have made by hand sometime when Keith was hanging out with the rest of the team today. It’s simple, just the chain and the rock, but to Keith it’s more valuable than all the universe’ riches put together. To him it’s everything. To him it’s a message.

It is, without even a sliver of a doubt, a manifestation of Lance’s feelings for him. Of his feelings for Lance, too, having picked up the stone at all.

Keith decides to hell with the waiting. To hell with the war, with the consequences, with the long-distance. He grabs Lance’s face in his hands and kisses him as hard and fast as he has been wanting to for longer than he’s willing to admit.

“I fucking love you so much,” he mutters against soft, ful lips. He feels Lance’s smile.

“Yeah no shit, stupid. I gathered that when you kissed the rick I begged you to pick up for me before a mission, like it was a picture of your sweetheart in World War Two.”

Keith huffs, but can’t resist kissing him again. “Are you physically incapable of saying I love you back like a normal person, you dickhead?”

Lance laughs loudly enough to disrupt the kiss. “Yes.” A beat. “I love you too, mulletbrain. If that wasn’t abundantly clear.”

Keith smiles, kissing him one last time before pulling away. “It was.”

He lets Lance clasp the necklace around his neck, relishing in the touch of Lance’s cold fingers on his skin, committing the feeling to memory.

“I’ll miss you,” he says from the pilot seat. “I’ll call you.”

“If you don’t, I’ll fly Red to the Blades and kick your ass,” Lance informs him.

Keith feels like his heart is going to burst. “I don’t doubt it.”

When he finally takes off, castle shrinking to a dot behind him, the weight of his good luck charm around his neck makes leaving feel like less of a goodbye.

[gaykeithbilance]

Your tags on the fem guys post… you’re so right. Shout it from the rooftops kind of right

thank you! it's very hard for me, being one of the few correct people on this fandom (slash joke)

i've never understood art or fic that makes either of them very fem or masc. i'm still bitter about the fandom on mass deciding to make keith a muscular and masculine man who sweeps lance off his feet after he had the growth spurt in season 6. i'm sorry but that's a twink. keith is perfectly in the middle with gender presentation and will always stay that way. lance in voltron canon dresses more masc-ish than keith, but that's 17 year old lance. he's still coming to terms with his bisexuality and he's still unlearning society's ideals. a theoretical slightly older lance who is more comfortable with himself could be a bit gnc (and look hot doing it). crop tops, well fitting jeans, cool jewelry etc. but he's not a skirts and dresses guy. keith isn't either. you know who is? coran

[bleh1bleh2]

Fashionistas <3

[little-cereal-draws]

Coran: *spits mouthful of blood onto floor* You’ve become far more powerful since we last crossed paths. Dentist: Please stop, there’s literally a sink right next to you.

[batshitcrazee]

planning a rewrite comes with rewatching the show yet again… despite how many times i’ve seen the first episode alone (planning to rewatch it then giving up), i still forgot how cheesy this shit is.

why are there so many corny one liners

the dialogue is so bad. why is it so bad.

please it cannot be this hard to come up with decent dialogue for the first episode

it’s so bad

[rorimoon9597]

Lance has always been obsessed with Keith's hair for some reason. He didn't know why at first, but as time went on, it became so clear that he wanted to run his hands though it and feel it on his fingers.

He made comments about it being an ugly mullet to hide that fact. It didn't work, especially not when he confessed to Keith before he left for the Blade.

What? He was going to lose the chance to say anything anyway! And he was so happy when Keith kissed him to shut him up and told Lance that his feelings were reciprocated, he felt as if he were on cloud nine.

Since coming back from his fight with Shiro's clone (who they're forever going to refer to as Kuro as in 'Operation Kurone'), Keith has experienced some changes.

For starters, his eyes were more purple. Before they'd been a grey colour with purple undertones, but now they were properly purple. Then his canines were sharper, practically fangs, and his eyes would sometimes change. When he was angry, his irises would become slits and the sclera of his eyes would become yellow. It was hot, in Lance's humble opinion (Pidge called him an alien fucker when he said that at first. Lance said that Keith's dad was the true alien fucker. Shiro sprayed the water he was drinking everywhere and choked when he said that).

The most noticeable change happened to Keith's hair though. The ends of it lightened, until they were purple. It looked so cool, and it connected Keith to Krolia more. His hair stayed black, but now when it gets out it was purple.

Keith... Didn't think the same way as everyone else.

"I feel like I'm losing my dad. I've only ever looked like my mom, and the one thing that has ever connected me to my dad was my hair." The team had stopped on a planet for a rest, and Keith and Lance had gone off together to hunt down some meat and gather fruit and vegetables.

Lance stopped and grabbed Keith's wrist, forcing him to stop and turn to face him.

"You're still connected to your dad, Keith. It's just not entirely in your appearance," he said. Keith frowned.

"What do you mean?" He asked. Lance hummed.

"You said that he'd go head first into danger, right?"

"Yeah..?"

"And that he was a hero?"

"Where are you going with this?"

"According to your mom, your dad was kind, and reckless, and a hero and someone she loved enough to leave to keep safe."

"Mom said that?" Keith asked, sounding surprised. Lance nodded. "Where are you going with this anyway?"

"Because those are some things that you have in common with your dad," Lance answered. Keith opened his mouth, then closed it.

"... You're right," he eventually said. Keith reached up to his hair and fiddled with a purple end. "That stuff... Does connect me to my dad..."

"I'm never wrong about people things," Lance said, confidently. Keith smiled down at him (that had happened during the two year time dilation that Keith and Krolia went through, and Lance found that he liked having to look up over looking down).

"You know more about people than I do," he agreed. He pressed a kiss to Lance's forehead. "Thank you."

"Anything for you," Lance said. He pressed a kiss to Keith's lips. "Now, let's go catch something that Hunk can make into a good meal."

"Alright."

They worked quickly, and made their way back to the campsite with food that all of them could eat. Hunk was quick to take care of the food, Krolia helping him while Romelle stayed by Allura's side.

Lance sat on a log, and Keith settled himself between his legs. Kosmo flopped down with them.

Lance ran his hands through Keith's hair, smiling as Keith joked with the others and treated Shiro and Romelle like Lance treated his siblings - by annoying the hell out of them out of love.

Lance leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of Keith's head.

"I love you," he whispered. Keith hummed, tilting his head to look up at him. There was a smile on his face reserved just for Lance.

"I love you too," he replied.

_______________________________________

Based off of this post I made

[nostalgicish]

My favorite tropes in klance fanfics that are never not funny (to me):

"Fighting" over little things

Lance: "I cannot believe you just said that......" Keith: "What?? I stand by what I said. Anchovies are objectively bad and are by far the worst pizza topping." Lance: "What! A pizza without anchovies is like— like a rose without petals! an ocean without waves! a night sky without stars! Keith: "Don't care. They're gross." Lance, theatrically: "You wound me!"

Then bringing the others into it

Lance: "Hunk, are you hearing this nonsense??" Hunk: "Nope, sorry bud, I'm with Keith on this one— anchovies are nasty." Lance: *clutches his chest like he's been fucking shot*

Keith getting confused by Lance's bad flirting but it ends up working on him anyways (i.e. wrong formula right answer)

Lance: "Holy shit, dude. Your hand looks super heavy. Do you want me to hold it for you? Keith, confused: "It's uh... I was— my hand? I— uhh...... yes...?"

Keith pretending he hates pet names/PDA

Lance, planting a wet kiss on Keith's cheek: "Anything for you, baby." Keith, trying really hard not to smile: "Oh my god you're so embarrassing."

Casual sibling-energy banter among the team

Lance: "Pidge is sooooo tiny. She's like. Three feet tall! So cute!" Pidge: "Lance, I swear to God. I will beat your ass." Lance: "Bring it, munchkin. We put out the mousetraps." Hunk: "Oohhh!" *high fives Lance* Pidge: "I am going to bash in your kneecaps." Keith, deadpan: "He'll just stand on the table then." Hunk: "OOHHHH" *high fives Keith* Pidge: *deep inhale* Pidge, eerily calm: "I'm gonna give you guys. a five-second head start... One..." Keith: "Uh... a head start for what?" Pidge: "Two..." Lance: "Wait, like five seconds each or...?" Pidge, gritting: "THREE..." Hunk: "Go go go gogogogogo—"

(unabashedly stole part of that from "Shut Up and Dance With Me" by wittyy_name on ao3)

Everyone knows they're in love EXCEPT them/the team placing bets on them (is it overdone? yes. is it still funny? to me?? also yes.)

Keith: "And uh... guys? There's... one more thing we need to tell you—" Lance, blurting: "WE'RE DATING." Everyone: "..." Pidge: "Fucking finally." Hunk: "Hah! Pay up, guys!" Shiro, pulling a $20 out of his wallet: "Seriously? You guys couldn't wait one more week?" Coran, whispering to Allura: "They weren't courting before??" Allura: "I'm just as confused as you are."

And like. a million other things! i love them!!

[mothmanavenue]

Hear those bells ring deep in the soul

Chiming away for a moment

Feel your breath course frankly below

And see life as a worthy opponent

[meggo-my-eggo]

Is it wrong to still have a voltron oc in the year 2023?

[abigailexx]

so i recently rewatched voltron with my sister, and now that im much older watching it i can actually realize what’s fucked up about it 😐💀

so after we finished it, i wrote an entire PSA on why it’s an ass show 😔😭

please enjoy 😌🙏 (also please ignore the amount of cursing, i was going through something 💀👊)

[autisticlancemcclain]

“You want us to what.”

Lance doesn’t give a flying fuck how angry he sounds. Potential diplomatic crises be damned. Hell, he wants to cause a crisis. Wants to raise some hell.

The dignitary sniffs derisively. “The beast is a dangerous pest, Blue Paladin.”

“Not the blue paladin,” Lance growls, because he isn’t, “and I am not murdering an animal in cold blood just because you can’t deal with it properly.”

“Lance,” Allura hisses, but he has no problem ignoring her.

“Can’t deal with it properly — do you hear your paladin!” the dignitary sputters, waving an angry hand in Lance’s direction.

Shiro closes his eyes, taking a deep breath, before plastering on a tight smile and visibly trying to salvage the situation. Now, usually, Lance would hate to cause Shiro any stress at all, and would do whatever he could to reduce that stress.

This time, Lance is going to dig his heels in. He is not going to let a living being be needlessly exterminated. Lance isn’t anti-animal death, or anything — he has no problem with others eating meat, or using animal products. He thinks using animals as gifts and not letting any part of them go to waste is very wise, and he has a lot of respect for people who manage to do so successfully. Sport hunters, on the other hand, or people who kill without good reason? Therein lies his problem, and he’s beyond happy to make a big stink of it.

“Could you describe the beast?” Shiro asks.

“Happily,” the dignitary grumps. “I’m eager to describe its horror to you, Oh Great Leader of Voltron.”

Shiro visibly tries very hard not to roll his eyes. Lance refuses to take any joy in the reaction, even though he would usually laugh.

“The beast is as large as half our royal castle. Its teeth are larger than our tallest soldier, and sharper than a luxite blade. Its fur is rough and coarse, enough to sand the paint clean off the walls it brushes by. Its roar shakes the very foundations of our city. It walks on four legs but stands on two, right before it rears up to smash our buildings to dust. It is a menace, a pest, and a danger besides!”

“So you have a grizzly bear problem,” Lance snaps. “Close your garbage cans at night and quit complaining.”

“Lance, please,” Hunk mutters, but Lance will not back down. Not when a life is at stake.

“Has it actually…hurt anyone?” Keith asks.

Lance shoots a grateful look at Keith.

At least someone is on his side.

“Yes!” the dignitary cries.

Keith shoots a look back at Lance — a well, I tried if Lance has ever seen one — but that is not good enough. Lance glares at him.

Traitor.

“Explain,” Lance demands.

The dignitary frowns, looking down his nose at Lance and shaking their head. “I’m not talking to you.”

“Would you mind explaining,” Pidge deadpans, barely refraining from rolling her eyes.

Lance knows Pidge well enough to know that she’s not on his side, exactly — she threw a bolt at him when he started insulting the dignitary initially — but there’s nothing that pisses her off more than someone talking down to her family. Even if she doesn’t agree with said family. She’s loyal, like that.

“Fine, since you asked so nicely,” the dignitary says, cutting a look to Lance, who makes a very crude gesture with his hands in response and ignores the four (4) tired sighs from assorted teammates and co around him.

“The beast easily and ruthlessly took down several of our soldiers as soon as they opened fire on it. And it further still injured many of our knights when we sent them to its cave! It is a mindless, killing machine, and must be exterminated immediately.”

Lance throws his hands up in exasperation. “No shit it’s defending itself! What do you expect it to do, stand there while you shoot at it?”

“If it didn’t want to be shot it shouldn’t have ventured into the city in the first place!”

“It’s an animal! How the hell is it supposed to understand city limits and boundaries?”

“That’s not my problem,” the dignitary says coldly. “It has posed a threat to our people, and so it must die. And if Voltron wishes for our signature in the Coalition, you will come to our aid, or else you can count yourself down one planet’s alliance.”

Allura stiffens. “You would really risk your people’s protection over a difference in opinion?”

“Your blue paladin —”

“I am not the blue paladin, you brainless amoeba —”

“Your blue paladin,” the dignitary repeats, pointedly and icily, “has insulted us greatly. The situation is no longer up for debate. If you wish to sign an alliance, the paladin must handle the problem himself. That is our final stipulation.”

With that, the dignitary ends the call, cutting off Shiro’s pleas for him to wait.

All eyes turn to Lance.

“I am not killing an innocent animal,” Lance snaps. “Forget it.”

Keith sighs. “Lance —”

“No.” Lance clenches his fists, glaring at his team, chin raised and shoulders set. Beside him, Mr. Snuggles spreads his fangs and hisses. The mice — currently resting on his head — scramble to their feet, presumably also tensing up. Ivy — a venomous vine he picked up on a planet a few missions back — winds up his arms. “I am not just being ridiculous. You heard that idiot. They’re provoking it. It’s not doing anything wrong.”

“Lance —” Keith tries again, but Lance is not willing to hear it.

“I will not take an innocent life to buy an alliance. And if you do, I swear to God, I will never forgive you.”

With that he stomps out of the bridge, ignoring the dozens of calls of his name and pleas to “wait a goddamn second, Lance, c’mon.”

Lance stomps all the way to his room, muttering about stupid careless dignitaries and team members who won’t listen to him and how everyone is going to make him grey early and he is not Shiro, lord above, so he can’t pull that garbage off. Ugh.

He slams his door behind him and flops on the bed, and is marginally surprised to find his tears stinging his eyes.

“This is a stupid reason to cry,” he announces to no one, voice muffled in his pillow. “Why must I cry about stupid things. Why can’t I cry about regular things. This is dumb.”

There’s a clicking sound accompanying a gentle bump to the leg hanging off his bed. He drags his head off the pillow, sniffling, to see Mr. Snuggles sitting to the side of his bed, fangs clicking. The mice sit on his head, as they are wont to do (which, understandably considering the natural predator of mice, used to scare the shit out of Allura. But Mr. Snuggles has never been anything but gentle with them, even when they roughhouse on his back or play tag under his leg and accidentally trip him. He seems to be quite protective of them, actually. It’s very sweet. Lance thinks it might be a microhylid frog-giant tarantula situation, even though Mr. Snuggles can’t lay eggs, and it amuses him greatly). Ivy uncoils from his bed frame, wrapping a vine around his ankle and tugging carefully. Blue and Red both loudly mother him in the back of his mind.

It’s nice.

Lance sighs, wiping his tears and sitting up against his headboard.

“This sucks,” he says to his assortment of companions, all who seem to agree with him. Mr. Snuggles and the mice crawl up the leg of the bed to sit in front of him, and Ivy makes her way around his shoulders.

None of them can talk to him, obviously — how fucking cool would that be, though — but each one of them is an excellent listener (even the mice, who like to gossip, but Lance preemptively forgives them).

“It’s just —” Lance huffs, frustrated. “I get that the planet is probably tired of being lightly terrorized by a giant beast, sure, but is murder really the answer? Plus, have they even tried talking to it? Maybe it’s very reasonable! I’m sure I —”

Lance shoots up, startling poor Ivy, but holy shit.

Holy shit!

“That’s it!” he shouts, grin nearly splitting his face in two. He leans over, just barely managing to grab his holopad, and starts sketching out the plans.

“Now if I just — and it shouldn’t be too hard — I’ve done more in less time — hell yeah!”

He’s startled out of his fervour by urgent squeaks, and when he looks up, he sees the mice waving to get his attention.

“Yes?”

At his acknowledgement, they scurry into formation, laying together to make a question mark with their little bodies.

Lance snorts. He may not be able to speak their language, but they have no problems making themselves clear.

“I can’t tell you,” he scolds, “you’re going to snitch to Allura.”

They mice squeak sadly, but Lance knows better. Last time he gave in to them, Allura knew within the minute.

“I’ll be back soon, okay? Don’t wait up for me. Platt, Chulatt, Plachu, Chuchule — there’s some of that fancy grain you like in the cupboard. Mr. Snuggles — here.” He opens up space youtube, quickly opening up a horror movie reaction compilation for the fear demon. “That’ll keep you fed for a bit.” He props the holopad up on his pillow, scrambling to his feet and heading to the door. On the way out, he pulls the string on his special blue sun lamp — “That’s for you, Ivy!” — and then he’s out the door, plans in hand, to find Coran.

Luckily for Lance, he runs straight into him.

“Lance, dear, I was just coming to look for you,” Coran says, right outside his door.

Lance grins. “I can see that.”

Coran narrows his eyes. “You’re… remarkably chipper, Number Four.”

“Mhm.”

He holds up a hand for Coran to pause. He strains his ears, and smirks as he just barely picks up on the sound of near-silent footsteps behind a closed door. He makes pointed eye contact with the advisor, then inclines his head at Keith’s door.

Coran gets the point.

“Well, if you’re really feeling so much better,” Coran says loudly — too loudly, but Lance doesn’t have much in the subtlety department either, so he can’t complain — “would you mind helping me recalibrate the fabricator?”

“Absolutely,” Lance says, dragging the advisor by the hand in the opposite direction of the fabricator.

“Will you speak plainly, now?” Coran asks, once they’ve put some distance between them and Keith’s eavesdropping ass. (That is, however, probably an unfair reaction. Keith was likely listening in to try and find a way to help, in his own awkward way. If Lance wasn’t currently feeling just a smidge betrayed, he would feel touched.)

“Okay, so. I have a Plan.” Lance puts emphasis on the word so Coran knows it’s Capitalized, because this isn’t just a regular plan. This is a rescue mission. It’s espionage. A heist, even.

“Oh, no.”

“Oh, yes!”

Coran sighs, dragging a hand down his face.

“Lance,” he says warningly, but Lance won’t hear it.

“C’mon, Coran! You trust me, right?”

“That is a manipulative question —”

“You trust me! You said so yourself!”

“Fine, child. Yes, I trust you.”

Lance claps his hands together. “Excellent! So. I refuse to be a murderer, as you may have heard.”

“That would have been very hard for me to miss,” Coran says drily.

Lance gracefully ignores the comment. “And since I will also go apeshit if anyone else becomes a murderer, I have come up with a plan!”

“Lance. Number Four. My dear. Time is not our current luxury. Please share your plan.”

“Right. Okay.” Lance rocks back on his heels, shooting Coran a guileless smile. “How well do you think you can imitate my mannerisms?”

———

part two

[the-coranic-jinx]

My take on altean Pidge

[nana-nia]

*Coughs* Voltron and Star Trek: Voyager.

I love them so much.

[mismess]

aw YES this bitch

[0xy--m0r0n]

psa. coran is Not australian as you may have come to believe. his accent is from new zealond (rhys darby, his va, is a new zealander) and therefore not australian. thank you and goodnight

(sincerely, an aussie who couldnt tell the difference when i first watched)

[xplr-myrddin]

Silly goofy voltron emojis for you

I didnt want to call keith emo (even tho he is) so i just called him pretty, cause its true