#insecure lance

[autisticlancemcclain]

Lance never shuts the fuck up.

Keith can’t get enough of it.

It’s been like that for as long as Keith can remember. Lance was the motormouth in, like, 6 of his classes; always had his hand up with a question or answer, and comments in between. Keith had been annoyed with it, that first year.

But then he’d shared classes with Lance again.

And again.

And again.

By then, they’d had their fair share of group projects together. Keith came to know that for all he was a rambling mess, Lance was really fucking smart, and funny besides. He was also endlessly kind and supportive, at least when he wasn’t egging on their rivalry that he’d invented (and that Keith hadn’t known they’d had — not that he wasn’t an active participant, once he knew. Riling Lance up was the most fun he’d had in ages).

Keith doesn’t remember exactly when he’d started smiling whenever Lance looked at him, feeling proud whenever Lance got a question right in class. Doesn’t remember when the mild annoyance turned to genuine appreciation. He does remember looking down at his notes one day, in Algebra II, only to discover a blank page, and realising that he’d spent the whole class just watching Lance talk. (He also remembers feeling pleased instead of the disappointment he should have felt, because he figured he’d have an excuse to hear Lance talk more if he asked him to help Keith catch up. He knew he was in quite the mess, then.)

Keith knew he had a crush on Lance, after that. And Keith was never one to sit idly — he’d asked Lance on a date right then and there. Lance had, for the first time in Keith’s working memory, gone speechless. (And quite the pretty shade of red.)

The speechlessness didn’t last long, that’s for damn certain. Keith took Lance to the Applebee’s at the plaza near his house that very night, because Shiro worked there and would give him a discount. Also, Lance had once mentioned he liked the lemonade there.

Keith met Lance there because neither of them had their full license yet. He doesn’t remember what exact table they sat at, only that they must have been near a window, because Keith remembers swooning over the sunlight warming Lance’s beautiful brown eyes no less than six times. They’d ordered, Keith some sort of fried dish and Lance — Lance had ordered a four-cheese fettuccine with a garden salad and, of course, a lemonade. Keith remembers so specifically because Lance spent the next thirty minutes excitedly telling him every piece of history surrounding the dish, down to the prehistoric origins of wheat-made pasta and the disturbing account of the first pink lemonade. He’d looked sheepish after looking at his watch and realising how long he’d been talking, and Keith hadn’t known how to assure him that Lance could narrate every detail of paint drying in a wall and Keith would swallow up every word.

(Later that night, Shiro sent him a picture he took while the both of them were distracted — Lance, animatedly waving a fork in the air as he lectured, and Keith, chin in his hands, meal forgotten, looking at Lance with a face more besotted than he knew he was even capable of making.

Keith sent the photo to Lance, asking him if he’d like to go out again, confessing that he enjoyed every second of Lance’s rambling.

Lance said yes. Very quickly.)

The rest, to a degree, had been history. They’d dated for the rest of high school, staying together even as they attended university and trade school on either side of the country. It was easy, really. Lance made sure they always had something to talk about. (Lance loved university. He was enamoured with every second of it, every niche interest of his getting its fill. He switched his major fourteen separate times, chasing every one of his ambitions, and Keith loved every story he heard. He also liked becoming an expert by proxy, because that was inevitable — you could only hear about the important of spiders in the ecosystem so many dozen times before the information was reflective whenever someone brought up the subject.)

As soon as Keith got his mechanic’s certificate — and he passed his exam in the highest percentile, meaning he could practice anywhere in the country, much to his pleasure and Lance’s overwhelming pride — he took off to California, his one and only thought being that he had to get to Lance. (Not that it had been impulsive — this was planned, something they’d been waiting for. Did Keith run over as soon as he could? Yeah, kinda. So maybe it was a little impulsive. But mostly it was planned.)

Not to sound like a Disney princess, but Keith really felt like their life began once they moved in together. Keith was able to find a job at a pretty decent garage, bring in money for them immediately. Lance had his library job until he graduated, and of course then he was snatched up by the nearest ecological restoration effort — he got to spend his days crawling through the forest, fawning over every tiny bug and critter. He is so fucking cute. Keith loves him more than anything in the world.

Lance’s constant lectures never stopped, either — any interest he picked up, he told Keith about it. From his knitting club to the new beetle species he’d found at work, Keith got the pleasure of hearing about it. And it truly was a pleasure. Keith had his fair share of time being a motormouth, too — he’d bought a project bike as soon as they’d saved enough, and spent a fair chunk of free time building it back up. (Lance helped, or at least as much as he could. Mostly he sat in their garage, handing Keith tools, and talking about anything he could think of. If Keith could go back and tell his ten year old self what his future would look like… God. Sometimes he can’t even believe how lucky he got.)

Keith has it made. He comes home from work every day to Lance’s beaming smile and gentle teasing about the grease on his clothes. He’s got everything he’s ever wanted. He’s happy. So fucking happy.

Except that things have been a little different, recently. For the past few weeks, he’s been coming home to his usual smile and kiss, but the idle chattering or excited rambles — Keith feels as if they’ve become a rarity. Their home used to be filled with the sound of Lance’s voice, silent only when he’s reading or focused intently on something, eyes narrowed and tongue peeking out of his mouth.

Lance still looks happy. He still curls up with Keith on the couch after dinner, socked feet in Keith’s lap and three million blankets over his shoulders. He still sends Keith a myriad of heart emojis on his lunch break. Their sex life has not suffered.

But the lectures. The constant infodumps of whatever passing thing has grabbed Lance’s attention. They’re gone. And Keith’s devastated about it.

He misses Lance’s voice.

———

Shiro is not getting it.

“It doesn’t sound like a big deal,” he says, voice staticky because signal at the shop is ass. “I mean, maybe you two are just growing up and settling down. How long have you guys been together, now? Seven years? Eight?”

“Almost ten,” Keith says quietly.

Ten years of the same thing. This change is new. It’s strange, and Shiro isn’t getting it at all.

“Exactly! Ten years! You guys were so young when you started dating, kiddo. Hell, Lance was still wearing braces, wasn’t he? I’m not shocked that he’s mellowed out a little.” He chuckles to himself. “Hell, maybe he’s finally just learnt every bit of knowledge he finally can.”

Keith frowns. “I dunno, Shiro. Sometimes I feel like he wants to say something, but he’s holding himself back. Why would he ever hold himself back from me? I don’t — I don’t want him to hold back from me. I like it when he talks.”

“Tell him that, then. The only way you’re going to get answers is if you ask him, you dork.”

“Some brother you are,” Keith mutters, pouting. “You’re supposed to solve things for me.”

“Hm. Pretty sure you’re a grown-ass man who’s capable of solving his own problems, bud.”

“Ugh. You’re horrible. I’m changing the Netflix password to kick you off.”

Shiro laughs. “Sure! No more Costco membership for you. Password sharing goes both ways, you little snot. Now hang up and call your man. I have to leave for work soon.”

Despite his ongoing frustration, Keith can’t help a smile at the familiar banter. “Yeah, yeah. Enjoy your upcoming fourteen hour shift of hell.”

“Go fuck yourself! Love you!”

“Love you too. Bye.”

It shouldn’t really surprise him that Shiro’s no help. As much as he pesters his brother as often as possible and generally finds joy in making himself into a nuisance, they haven’t seen each other face-to-face since Christmas. They’ve lived in different states for years.

But, still. There’s some part of Keith that will always think of his big brother first when he has a problem. And that part of him had the right ideas, because Shiro is unfortunately right — he really does just need to talk to Lance. There’s not much else he can do.

He spends the rest of his shift wondering how he’s going to bring it up. He has his own motormouth moments, sure, but realistically? Keith doesn’t talk all the much. He’s more of an action person. How the hell is he supposed to breach the subject? ‘Hey, Lance. I’ve noticed that you are talking less. This change has consumed my every thought. I miss the sound of your voice. How come you don’t talk to me about your life anymore?’

Yeah, no. It sounds ridiculous even in his own head. He’ll have to — plan it out, maybe. He’s not sure. He’s never had to worry about making Lance talk more before.

He’s so distracted that he nearly burns off his eyeballs, forgetting to put on his welding mask before trying to make a part he couldn’t source for an older car. His boss sends him home early, worried he might accidentally leave a blowtorch by an air compressor or something and send the whole place up in smoke. Keith tries to take it as a blessing — maybe he’ll ride around on his bike for a while and clear his head. A way to bring it up might come to him naturally.

It doesn’t. He spends the whole ride just stressing himself out. He does drive by a flower stand, and turns around to pick up some poppies and peonies — Lance’s favourite. It won’t breach the subject, or anything, but it’ll make Lance smile. Hell, maybe he’ll start talking to Keith about all the different pollinators that made this bouquet possible. That would be a dream come true.

He hasn’t come up with any new ideas by the time he makes his way home, but he’s less stressed. He sets the flowers on the counter and takes a quick shower. Maybe he’ll start some dinner? Surprise Lance, for a change. Yeah. That won’t solve the problem, but it’ll be nice anyway.

He starts making four-cheese fettuccine and pink lemonade, because he is a sappy loser.

By the time he hears Lance’s key in the lock, he’s got the table set and the food is done. He keeps it heated on the stove, ducking into the bathroom to check his reflection as Lance steps into the apartment.

No grease smudges on his face. His hair is braided, the way that always makes Lance all blushy. He’s wearing the v-neck, too-tight black sweater that Lance likes, too. He’s got this. He doesn’t have a solid plan, or anything, but he thinks maybe if he turns up the romance then Lance will just spill whatever’s wrong. That works in the movies.

“Keith, baby? You home?”

“You have leaves in your hair,” Keith says, stepping out to meet Lance by the door. Lance smiles immediately, laughing to himself as he cards his fingers through his hair in an attempt to find them. Keith takes pity on him after a few seconds of fruitless searching, reaching forward and running gentle hands through the curly mess of his boyfriend’s hair, half to get out the leaves and half just to touch.

“Yeah — climbed a tree to check out a new weaver ant colony. Watched ‘em for hours — pretty boring, I’m sure you don’t want to hear it.”

I want to hear about it, Keith thinks mournfully. Please, please tell me about it.

“I made pasta,” Keith says quietly, when it’s clear that no more details are forthcoming. “And, uh, got you some flowers.” He tugs Lance gently towards the kitchen, placing the flowers in his hands.

“Oh, Keith, they’re gorgeous! Man, I love peonies. They looks like pink cabbages, it’s the best. And poppies —”

Yes, Keith thinks. Tell me about how California poppies were traditionally used as stress-relief medicine, but not like opioid red poppies. Tell me —

“I should put these in a vase,” Lance says instead of any of that. Keith feels like he could cry, honestly. Lance leans up and presses a kiss to his cheek, patting him on the chest. “You want to set the table while I do that? Or do you want to eat on the couch and watch a movie?”

“Table sounds good,” Keith says, because if they watch a movie then there’s no chance of Keith finding out what’s wrong.

“Okay! I’m going to get changed, too, I’ll meet you in ten.” Lance kisses him again and then rushes off. Keith waits until he’s disappeared into their bedroom to cover his face in his hands and scream silently.

Fuck! He just wants his Lance back. So badly. He wants to be woken up at strange hours of the night to hear about how trees communicate. He wants to get spam-texted as he’s trying to work, phone practically buzzing out of his pocket. He wants to hear about marketing strategies when they’re grocery shopping. He wants Lance to get distracted mid-sex by reading the back of the condom box, and then remarking with vague interest that they use the same dye in some cereals.

At the very least, he wants to know why Lance is acting so strange.

“So,” Lance says, once they’ve both settled down at the table and started to eat. “How come you’re home early?”

“Boss sent me home, I was distracted. I’m not mad, honestly. It’s been a while since I’ve done something special for you, which is a travesty.”

Lance smiles. “Dork. I appreciate it, though. Very sweet of you.” He shifts in his seat, tucking his legs up under him and leaning his head on his chin to look at Keith properly. “How come you were distracted?” He wiggles his eyebrows. “Thinkin’ about this hot bod all day?”

Keith huffs a laugh. “Somethin’ like that.”

“Tell me! I’m curious now. I have to know or I’ll die.”

“You’re so dramatic.”

“Mhm. That’s not even the half of it, and you know it. If you don’t tell me right now I’ll just start listing the names of royals throughout European history and how freaky it is that most of them are directly related.”

Lance is teasing. His tone is light and playful; he’s obviously trying to goad Keith into playing along and groaning theatrically. A few weeks ago, Keith might have given in easily, and started ribbing him about why on Earth he has the names memorized in the first place.

But all Keith can think about is just how badly he would love to hear that.

“Promise?”

Keith’s voice comes out embarrassingly sincere. Soft and hopeful and dead-serious.

Lance’s hand stills, mid pasta-swirl.

“You…want me to? List names of inbred royals?”

Keith swallows. It’s as good of a segue as any, he supposes.

“Yeah.”

“…Why?”

“Because I — I miss your voice, I guess.”

“Keith, I talk all the time,” Lance says, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He snorts to himself. “One might even say it’s my defining quality.”

“You haven’t been. Not recently. You used to talk all the time, but now — I dunno. The house is quiet. I miss you talking about random things. I miss hearing about your day and the million creatures you met and the people you saw on the bus home and the weirdly-shaped stone you tripped over on the sidewalk. I miss you bazillion lunch-break texts. I miss your running commentary when we watch a movie, even though you miss important dialogue and have to rewind to hear it again. I dunno. I just miss you.”

Keith keeps his eyes downcast on his plate as he speaks, and keeps it there after he finishes. He’s finished his food, already, but he can’t bring himself to look at Lance’s face.

“Keith?”

There’s a strange quality to Lance’s voice, a sort of — bewildered breathlessness. Keith risks a glance, finding his boyfriend staring at him with a dropped jaw and wide brown eyes.

“You really — you miss my motormouth?”

Keith shrugs. “I fell in love with your motormouth. Of course I miss it.”

That makes Lance’s cheeks heat, and he glances down at his plate like they’re teenagers again and Keith told him he was cute for the first time.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Keith’s not sure what else to say. He doesn’t know how to express that there’s nothing that Lance does that he dislikes, not truly. Sure, it’s annoying when Lance leaves a million half-full cups of water around the apartment, and Keith is regularly tripping over the shoes that he never puts away for some reason, but there’s nothing — every part of him is precious to Keith. Everything he does and everything he is, Keith knows he can’t live without.

“I know you love me,” Lance whispers. He looks pointedly away from Keith, pushing a couple wayward noodles around on his plate. “I’ve never — I’ve never needed to doubt that.”

Keith swallows. “Good.”

“I — yeah. You show me all the time. And, I mean, look at today! You brought me flowers home just because. You do things like that for me regularly; I never forget that you care about me. But —”

One word. Three measly letters. But it’s enough to feel like a stone is dropping on Keith’s chest.

“— sometimes I feel like I’m too much? Like, I’m kind of intense. I know that. And I can’t always tell when I’m being weird or annoying. And you’d never — you’d never string me along, I know that. If you stopped loving me you’d tell me.”

“I would never stop loving you.” Keith can’t say the words fast enough. He wants to print them out and — tattoo them on his forehead. Melt them into gold and press them into Lance’s hands. Smash them to dust and sprinkle them in the air. Whatever — whatever it takes to prove to Lance that they’re true.

Lance bites his lip. His eyes are wet. “I — I don’t want us to —”

Keith doesn’t wait for the tears to fall. He stands and hurries the two feet over to Lance’s chair, carefully pulling him up and wrapping tight arms around his waist. Lance falls into him willingly, resting his forehead on Keith’s shoulder and leaning into him.

“Three of my coworkers think I’m annoying,” he whispers, long after the food’s gone cold and the light from the window has begun to dim. After Keith’s arms have gone a little numb and a wet spot has grown where Lance’s face is pressed into his shirt. “I just thought — I thought we were friends, but I heard them talking about how exhausting I am to be around. I don’t want — I don’t want you to get tired of me, too.”

Keith closes his eyes as he exhales in a shudder, firmly reminding himself that unfortunately, being a two-faced asshole is not illegal, and Keith has no defense for hunting those shitheads down and murdering them a little.

“They are not worth the ground you walk on,” Keith whispers, pressing a firm kiss to Lance’s hair. “You have more value in your toenail clippings than they do in their entire bodies.”

Lance giggles wetly. “Gross.”

”I mean it,” Keith says, smiling. “I love you, Lance. All of you. I never get tired of listening to you talk. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Good.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

———

It takes a while. Those asshole coworkers did a number on Lance’s self-esteem, because they’re horrible, and they deserve every horrible thing that happens to them. Honestly, Keith kind of hopes their cars break down and they have to spend ridiculous amounts of money getting them fixed by idiots, because Keith has quietly blacklisted them to every good mechanic in town. (Not that Lance knows. Lance is too nice to ask for something like that. Keith, however, is a bitch, and has no problem doing shady things to appease his own sense of justice.)

Eventually, though, the apartment stops being so silent. It starts with a shark documentary that takes them three hours to watch because Lance keeps pausing it to point out specific behaviours to Keith. And then they get kicked out of a casino they go to for shits and giggles, because Lance can’t contain himself and points out how the house is strategically winning all the card games they’re calling ‘luck-based’. And then grocery store trips start taking too long again, and Lance gets distracted mid-shower comparing the ingredients of shampoo and conditioner, and then they start a small fire in the apartment because he was explaining how broccoli evolved from mustard seed and burnt a whole pan of stir-fry to a crisp.

One day, seemingly out of the blue, Shiro sends him a picture of him and Lance, fifteen years old, at the shitty town Applebee’s.

I was looking at old pictures, the text reads. And you were right. It is strange that Lance was so quiet. I can’t imagine how that would feel. I’m glad you two worked things out.

Keith looks over at Lance, who’s singing a the periodic table song to himself as he washes the dishes for Keith to dry, and smiles.

He’s glad they worked it out, too.

#this is a three month old draft i just finished even tho i promised i would stop writing things at ass o’clock in the morning #vld #voltron #keith #keith kogane #lance #lance mcclain #klance #established klance #autistic lance #autistic lance mcclain #soft keith #smitten keith #smart lance #observant keith #tall keith #brown eyed lance #brown-eyed lance #insecure lance #langst #klangst #hurt/comfort #my writing #fic #fluff and angst #broganes #shiro & keith #mechanic keith #longpost #the applebees universe

[klanceficatalogue]

If I’m allowed to be self promotional lol-I’d really love it if you guys rec’d my most popular fic bc I want people to check out my other fics too! Lol. Anyways it’s called Ripped Open, Unsightly (let yourself be loved when you’re ugly) by artimess_chimes on ao3. :) it’s a LANGST klance fic lol tw for injury, gore, suicidal ideation. Thank you guys! Love your blog ❤️ always the go to when I need a klance pick me up, I’m so glad you guys are back!!!

of course!! thanks for the ask <33 - k

Ripped Open, Unsightly (let yourself be loved when you're ugly) by artimess_chimes (6/6 | 17,994 | Mature)

"What even happened?" Lance asked, disoriented and still cold, still aching. "You hid an injury." Keith was at the end of the cot, gripping the bed frame with knuckles turned white. He looked so angry his face had gone pale in places, and he trembled. His black eyes danced like hot coals in the base of a fire. "And then you took on a druid all by yourself and got yourself cursed." or Lance has self esteem issues. It takes a druids curse to help bring them to light so that he can be loved.

//violence //gore //depression //blood and injury //suicide ideation

#asks #anon #recs #klance #voltron #vld #klance fic #voltron fic #vld fic #completed #10to20k #langst #hurt comfort #insecure lance #depressed keith #violence #angst

[icypantherwrites]

New Fanfic: The Real One

Summary: Keith knows he and Lance are both lucky to be alive after their ship crashes. Not so lucky is the fact Lance has a pretty nasty concussion and he’s being incredibly stubborn about letting Keith help him. But as his symptoms only grow worse Keith discovers that there’s a different side to Lance beneath the cockiness and stubbornness and this person… he seems far more real.

Story snippet:

“Keith,” Lance’s voice was barely a whisper and his voice was so small despite the fact the word was far clearer than anything else he’d said in the last few minutes and the shiver returned full force as Lance’s eyes fluttered closed again. “Don’t feel good,” Lance whispered.

And beneath the tan of his skin Keith could see that Lance was starting to not just look a little pale but…

But a little green and his lips were pressing together tightly as his face screwed up and—

“Oh fuck—”

Keith barely made it to Lance’s side and practically gave him whiplash as he grabbed the boy’s shoulders and turned him sideways before he vomited all over his lap.

Lance let out a sort of disgusting hrking sound but more than that there was the sound of a sob followed by a moan and Lance slumped completely against Keith’s hold, entire body shaking.

Keith fought to remain as still as possible to both not jar Lance any further and to not make this nearly impromptu hug any more awkward than he felt as Keith didn’t do hugs — only with Shiro and even then not like this — and if Lance made some comment about the cradling arms thing that he swore he didn’t recall at all…

But Lance said nothing, only whimpered and somehow dropped more of his weight down and Keith was forced to tighten his grip lest Lance try to put his face into his vomit puddle.

Read it here

#voltron #vld #lance #keith #lance whump #hurt lance #concussion #protective keith #fanfiction #fanfic #The Real One #icypanther #icypantherwrites #platonic klance #platonic #klance #angst #insecure Lance #comfort #hurt/comfort

[the-kittens-of-vol-tron]

"The first step to fixing a problem is admitting you have a problem"

"No, I'm not fixing my problem. I'm just self aware"

Could be Langst or Klance or both

I give you klangst 

-----

Lance politely excused himself from the conversation he found himself in, borderline storming out of the ballroom. He mumbled curses under his breath as he headed to the observatory deck. 

He always came here when he was upset or missing home more than usual, usually the former than the latter. 

He plopped down on the steps, hugging his waist. Stupid mullet, stupid mister perfect. He could oversleep every single day and yell at everyone and still be the #1 best teammate. He looked up at the stars, begging for some peacefulness. I hate him. 

Okay, hate is a strong word, Lance felt the opposite regarding his fellow team member. He had a ridiculously unrequited crush on him. He knew it wasn’t Keith’s fault he was prone to jealousy and didn’t know how to manage it. It wasn’t Keith's fault that he compared nearly every aspect of himself to him. It wasn’t Keith's fault he was just Lance. 

Lance was always an insecure guy, being the youngest meant he had to fight for attention. His parents loved him and he knew he was loved but he never felt good enough; it was a weird feeling.

He just wanted to feel worthy for once. He wanted to be applauded for something he did, for a plan he created, for saving a species, for something.

Tonight just tipped him over the edge a bit. He and Keith had infiltrated a ship together, stopping a new Galran weapon from destroying an entire planet.

It was Lance's idea to go on the ship, it was Lance's idea to have the team distract the fighters from the sky as Keith and Lance made their way through. Keith had tagged along due to his Galra biology and he opened the doors for him. It was all Lance's idea.

So why did Keith get all the praise at the celebration?

The team clapped with everyone else and Lance gave a couple of weak claps before leaving. Lance didn't feel part of the team, he didn't feel valued as a team member, and he just wanted to leave.

He wanted to take Blue and just fly anywhere that wasn't the castle or the Galran empire. He knew he was being selfish. The team wasn't even aware of his issue so he couldn't really blame them.

He really hated his mind most of the time. He rationally knew he was valued and wanted but most of the time he couldn't convince himself that he was.

"Thought you'd be in here." Keith's voice rang in the darkness of the room and Lance rolled his eyes.

"What? Already tired of people chanting your name? Go, Keith! Our savior." He wrapped his arms around his knees, pressing his forehead against them.

He heard Keith sigh and take a couple of steps into the room. "If you didn't run away so fast you would have heard Allura correct them. Tell everyone you came up with the plan."

Lance scoffed, "sure whatever."

"I'm serious." He heard Keith sit down next to him, keeping distance between them.

"Wow one point for Lance, like twenty for Keith."

He heard Keith groan in frustration. "I'm sorry you hate me. But if I can make you hate me any less could you please tell me?" Keith said in a slight huff.

"I don't hate you."

"You don't like me."

"It's not," Lance lifted his head up slightly, not being able to face the other boy. "I'm just, angry with myself."

"Why do you take it out on me?" Keith's voice was laced with slight anger.

"I don't know."

"Bullshit. Ever since we save Shiro on Earth you've been trying to start something with me."

"Maybe I don't like your mullet." Lance turned to face him, Keith staring back at him with fire in his eyes.

"It's not a mullet!"

"Yes, it is!" Lance stood up, staring down at the other boy. "If you took like a minute to look at yourself in a mirror you would see that it's a mullet."

Keith stood up, "why are you obsessed with my hair?"

"It's not just your hair."

Keith crossed his arms, "what else do you hate about me then?"

"Just-Just you're perfect at everything! You're Keith Kogane! Shiro borderline adopted brother. You've never been scolded or belittled or told to do better. I'm just a fucking boy from Cuba stuck in space with mister can-do-no-wrong constantly reminded that I'll never be up to your standards. Or anyone's standards. The only thing I have on you is I didn't flunk out from the Garrison. Even when you were still top of the class." Lance looked at the ground, "I only go fighter because you left."

"Lance-"

"And maybe I'm just upset because I want to have that." He looked back up at the other boy, who was staring back at him with a somber expression. "I want for once to be the center of praise or approval. Not begging for someone to just acknowledge what I'm capable of."

Lance shifted his gaze up, looking out into the stars. "I'm the youngest, and they say the youngest gets spoiled but by the time I was born all my siblings were in high school. They were going into college, getting scholarships, and I was just...left behind." He wrapped his arms around his waist, "my family loves me. I know they do, but I always felt left out."

"I always wanted to find my place somewhere, somewhere I felt important or needed. Then you," he brought his gaze back down towards the other boy, "had to come into space with us and once again," his voice became barely a whisper. "I'm in someone's shadow."

Neither spoke for what felt like forever, the silence looming over them like a fog.

"I didn't know you felt like that."

Lance rolled his eyes, plopping back down on the step with a huff.

Keith looked down at him, "I'm serious."

"Okay."

Keith returned to his spot next to Lance, the air tenser between them. "You're not just a boy from Cuba, I hope you know that."

"I'm not much here. Just the 7th wheel if you ask me."

Keith shook his head, "I'm sorry you feel like that but Lance, you're more than that. You're vital to the team."

Lance scoffed, "sure."

Keith released a small sigh, "I'm serious. Without you, we wouldn't be Voltron."

"Allura can fly blue."

"So what?!"

Lance turned his head at the boy's outburst, his shoulders rising and falling as he tried to compose himself. "So I'm not needed."

"So that's it?! Someone else could fly your lion so you have no worth all of a sudden? You have worth, you are a part of this team you're-"

"I'm leaving the team." Lance surprised himself. He had always entertained the thought but he never spoke the words out loud.

Keith sucked in a quick breath, clearly not expecting those words to be said. "What?"

Lance took a shaky breath, keeping his eyes trained forward on nothing in particular. "I'm leaving the team. No matter what I do I'm not needed here."

"Jesus Lance, listen to what you're saying. If you didn't come up with your plan on that ship we would have been captured or killed. You did that, if you weren't here no one would have thought of that."

"You don't know that Keith."

"Well, you seem to act like you know what our lives would be like if you left." Keith's voice sounded a bit sharp in the quiet of the room and Lance couldn't blame him. If the roles were reversed he would be just as upset as Keith.

"I just want to belong."

Keith's face fell slightly and his body relaxed ever so slightly. "I'm sorry you feel like you don't. I wasn't aware you felt like that. I don't think any of us were."

Lance opened his mouth to respond but no words tumbled out. He suddenly realized how exposed he felt, how he basically spilled every insecurity he ever felt in his life to his crush. "I need to go."

He stood up, making a beeline towards the door, a gloved hand grabbing his arm and twisting him around. He was face to face with Keith, a bit closer than they usually stood. "You have a problem."

"Excuse me?"

Keith shook his head, "that came out wrong. I just...look I'm not good with words but you need help? Support I don't know."

Lance looked down at Keith's finger wrapped around his arm.

"The team will want to help you, I want to help you. Please just, don't leave before we get the chance." Keith looked down at his own hand, then back up at Lance's face. "Shiro used to say that the first step to fixing a problem is admitting you have a problem."

Lance met his eyes, quickly shifting his gaze to the scenery beside his head. "No, I'm not fixing my problem. I'm just self-aware. Me leaving will at least be a step towards something." He tried to turn again but he couldn't shake his arm from Keith's grasp. "Let me go."

"I can't. Not until you listen to me."

Lance stopped fighting against his teammate, this might be the last time he was able to touch Keith in any capacity so he might as well savor it. "I'm listening then."

Keith gave him a slow nod. "You're part of this team. Without you, we wouldn't have been able to access the Blue lion. She was waiting for you, Lance. You fought Sendek, you've come up with plans on the fly, you make the team laugh, you just...without you we wouldn't be the team we are today."

Lance didn't say anything, just simply staring at the spot beside Keith.

"You're our sharpshooter, you've saved all of our asses more times than we can count. We can explain how you feel to the team. We can all advocate for you, get you the credit you deserve." Keith tightened his hold on his arm ever so slightly, "please I don't want to lose you."

Lance was leaning forward before he could stop himself, softly pressing his lips against Keith's. He tried to pull back, but Keith held him close, holding on to him like he was a life raft.

When they eventually separated Lance slid his arm out of Keith's grasp. "I'm sorry," and he quickly left the room, trying to decide if he should go lay down or go get an escape pod.

-----

Ambiguous ending? I just,,,love writing angst sorry not sorry.

I hope I did this idea justice <3

Thank you <333

#langst #kangst #klangst #answer #answer prompt #vld prompt #lance angst #keith angst #klance angst #lance #lance vld #lance voltron legendary defender #lance voltron #lance mcclain #keith #keith vld #keith voltron #keith voltron legendary defender #keith kogane #insecure lance #lance needs a hug please #vent fic #in a sense #my writing #no beta #thank you <3 #posted on a03

[greyfix]

Children

Title: Children

Ship: Keith Kogane/Lance McClain

Summary: Keith and Lance are children with the weight of the world on their shoulders. At only 16 and 17 years old these children were made Paladins of Voltron, Blades of Marmora, Saviors of the Universe. Those weren’t titles meant for children.

Word Count:6.1k

Requested By: n/a

Warnings/Tags: Angst, Fluff, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Pining Lance, Lance is a mess, Insecure lance, Galra Keith, Keith is bad at feelings, Keith is a mess, Blade of Marmora Keith, Blade of Marmora, Naxzela, pining keith.

Author’s Note: listen, i know i never write anymore. But, shit happens you know? 

I’m taking requests and commissions again though so hopefully that will change, i have menus posted on my linktree. You can Instagram message me ( @greyfixx ) or email me ([email protected]) and i’d be happy to write your stories. Thanks guys!

Ao3, Tumblr

Lance wanders the castleship often now. He spends much more time walking around aimlessly than doing anything productive that’s for sure. Hunk and Pidge seemed as though they were always making some revolutionary advances. Always inventing something or tweaking something. Lance could never keep up. 

Allura seems as though she always has some diplomatic stuff to tend to with Shiro. If you asked Lance, he’d tell you that’s just an excuse so they can do whatever they do when they're alone. Plus, hanging out with Shiro is like, well it is, hanging out with your commanding officer. It’s hard for me to be comfortable.  He would hang out with Coran sometimes, helping with some of the castle maintenance. It almost reminded him of being back home doing the chores. He never thought chores would be something he missed. 

Still, when the lonely day was done,  he had to return to the cold sterile room. It was so lifeless. Despite the trinkets he’d collected from his travels strewn around the room, the lived in clutter, it still didn’t feel like his room, no matter how hard he tried. Pictures weren’t as prominent  in space, he’d noticed, at least not hard copies or for decoration in general. I guess they went completely digital a long time ago. So it wasn’t common for one to have photos of their family hung up around their homes. He wonders if people keep photos of their families outside of earth, or if it isn’t something people generally care about? For Lance, who’d spent his whole life surrounded by his siblings, it was so terribly lonely. Almost like living in a hospital room that never had a visitor.

So he slept in his cold white bed with his thin sheets and flat pillows. He wore his thin pajamas and the unreasonably comfy castle bathrobe. This was his new normal. His new home. He’s always been so grateful for his family, the original one, and the new ones he had created along the way. That’s what made him so sad, that he had a whole family here and he still felt alone. 

It wasn’t always like this. Lance suspected that they didn’t really have enough time to worry about it as things changed. Now, between battles, there is silence. What does the silence hold for the soldiers in the war? These are the thoughts that plagued Lance as he fell asleep.. There weren’t many sweet dreams on the other side of the unconscious curtain waiting for him. 

This is how he had felt since Keith had left. On the outside they seemed to be all bitter arguments, competitive bravado, and rivalry. They both knew though, that on the inside, they were closer than anyone else on the team. And that was their business. Their banter was just that, banter. It only takes a little bit of care to see the flirting smiles and friendly wrestling through the veil. When the fighting is done and it’s time for the brains behind the scenes, Keith and Lance learned to stay out of the way. They weren’t geniuses, or commanders, or Royalty. This wasn’t their job.

Each evening he spends longing for the company he wishes he had. He wishes for just one night things could be back the way they were. He wishes that if he does have to be lonely, he shouldn’t have to be the only one. . He considers it. He also considers the embarrassment of it. Calling the Blade of Marmora Headquarters to talk to his friend because he misses him? They’ll laugh and hang up. Probably give Keith shit for it, and i don’t want to mess things up for him. We’re soldiers. We’re supposed to be doing more with our time than talking to our friends on secure military lines.

He accepts his fate. 

Though it may be silent between battles, for those who are much more than soldiers it was time to make a lot of noise.. Building a good public image. Recruiting to the cause. Diplomacy, gaining allies. Creating a Coalition.. Coran had them traveling to a new planet each and every day putting on shows and meeting people. Selling Voltron. 

It wasn’t a big deal in the beginning. Just a script reading here and there, and Lance always loved Drama as a kid, so he was more than happy to comply. It felt like filming a cheesy TV commercial, and it was fun. Over time, as the audience got larger and larger, Coran got more intense. Their characters became perverted versions of themselves. Lance was now “Loverboy Lance.” He was nothing but a good looking airhead. There wasn’t anything more to him than his ability to get laid everywhere he goes. Because that’s all it takes to be a Paladin of Voltron, apparently. 

Coran had become increasingly erratic. He’s talking differently, and twitches everywhere he goes. He’s taking dangerous risks, not only with diplomacy but with their safety.

Lance was starting to believe that that’s who he was. Maybe he is the only one who hasn’t noticed yet. He isn’t anything but who they believe he is. Loverboy. What is a loverboy without love? Just a boy. Just a boy in a play. Just a boy with the weight of the world in his universe. Just a boy. Alone. In a hospital room. 

When Lance realized that the pressure of being a part of this war drove Coran to believe he needed a brain worm to do the right thing or to be good enough. Coran, the purest being on this ship, resorted to drugs to be as good as everyone else. Lance knew he was lonely too. He wanted it to stop, because though he didn’t care too much about himself, he certainly cared about his family. 

So Lance grew angry. He was so angry all the time that his family was diminished into nothing but comic book characters. His best friend is depicted as nothing other than comedic flatulence. Pidge rendered a fraud who uses fake words. They aren’t recognized as the amazing scientists they truly are. They should be. Keith. He made Keith all angry and lonely. Can’t he see, that’s not who Keith is. 

Keith has raw power and talent. He’s the potential to do something amazing for the world. He’s an anomaly and he is so important. There is no one more important than him. 

Lance is the one filled with anger and sadness and loneliness. 

Keith is hopeful. 

And things keep piling on. He is lonely. He is sad. He is angry. And Hope is gone. 

Laying on his gurney in his cold hospital room, in his magical alien castle, Lance picked up his space tablet and dialed the space number for the secret space soldiers. 

DIAL

Lance called the Blade of Marmora’s direct communications line. 

“State your Business.” Spoke a dark gravelly voice. 

“I’m Lance, Blue Paladin of Voltron. I’m calling to speak to Keith Kogane? The red Paladin of Voltron?” He was shaking. This is pathetic. How could he be doing this right now, there’s no way Keith would want to talk to him. He’s probably got a bunch of new muscle-y galra friends.  

“Should I provide you with his direct communications line?”

Lance froze for a moment. Why wouldn’t he be able to call Keith? Why would the Blade stop him from communicating with his Paladins? That would be ridiculous. “Um yeah, yes please, that would be great, um, yeah.” He stammered out in rapid succession. 

He rattles off a bunch of numbers and symbols that Lance makes sure to write down before speaking again. “Will that be all?” 

“Um yes, thank you so–” 

Beep. 

He hung up on me!!

Once he got over the scandal that was the rudeness of what could only be referred to as the ‘galra receptionist,’ he sat in silence for a while. He stared at the string of numbers and symbols. “Keith’s Direct Communications line.” He doesn’t really know what stopped him from getting it before. 

It wasn’t long before he typed the number into his tablet.

!0070/01812/12-12! → DIAL

!0070/01812/12-12! → DIAL

!0070/01812/12-12! → DIAL

He hit the flashing dial button before he could talk himself out of it.. Inter-Galaxy phone calls didn’t have a dial tone like on earth. There’s a loading screen. If the person you’re calling hasn’t answered by the time the circle is filled, the signal will be canceled and the call will drop. Messages can be sent as well but it wasn’t customary to have your tablet on you at all times, as it would be with a phone on earth. It’s more like having an I-Pad instead of a phone. If you really wanted a response it was best to call.

The circle is barely filled in when the screen explodes in color. It was Keith. His brows furrowed and lips pursed for a moment, until his eyes widened and his teeth showed. He smiled. That wasn’t at all what Lance was expecting.

“Hey, Keith. It’s been a minute.” His voice wavers as he speaks.

“No shit! Is everything okay? You’ve never called before-” he started to look concerned again. 

“No! No not at all…” He trailed off. He knew if he said this he would never hear the end of it, but he didn’t want to start the call on such a negative note. He went with what can be interpreted positively.. “I missed you man. It’s lonely around here when you’re gone.” 

Keith laughed. When he caught Lance’s eyes and realized that he wasn’t smiling with him, his face dropped. “You don’t mean that?” 

“Of course I do. Everyone here is so much smarter and more important than me. I hang around on my own most of the time.” 

“I thought I was supposed to be the lone wolf. You’re usually a social butterfly.” 

“Everyone’s so busy I don't want to bother them.” 

“Well I haven't changed from my lonely ways, so you must annoy me like the butterfly you are.” 

“...What?” Lance held back his laughter. 

“Shut up.” 

“The butterfly I am.” The smile seeped through and before he knew it the both of them had dissolved into hysterics. 

“Shut up. I missed you too. I don’t exactly fit in here.” 

Before Keith could get another ‘shut up’ out Lance teased,“Are you sure it isn’t just because you aren’t purple?” 

“I’m pretty sure that was a little bit space racist.”

Lance gasped. 

They talked for hours upon hours. They smiled and laughed until they felt their cheeks go raw and their abs get sore. They talked until their faces turned stoick and they had run out of good things to talk about. They talk until things get serious, and then they keep talking. 

Keith tells Lance how he feels worthless because he has always been a prodigy at the things the BoM excel at. The things that Earth doesn’t hold as honor the way the Galra do. Now, he’s nothing special. 

Lance tells Keith how he feels like he’s been deluding himself into thinking he belongs. He tells him how he doesn’t believe he’s a true Paladin, and that he’s probably just a placeholder for him or Allura. That the persona that the public has for him as ‘Loverboy’ is so entirely impossible because the only person he loves is so far away that he can’t even tell him that every day. 

They talk about how lonely they are. And they promise each other that though things can never be perfect, they will always keep each other company. 

However, as many hours as they wish they could spend together, everything comes to an end. Keith has private training early in the mornings and the Castleship will be landing in a different timezone. So for Lance, first thing in the morning is about 4 in the afternoon (If you think about earth time, measurements are fine and dandy in altean, but dates are hell.)  and he has to go straight to a diplomatic dinner party. 

They say their goodbyes, and part with smiles on their faces. 

When Lance turns over on his bed, his pillow is wet until the morning. Or 4 O’Clock in the alien planet’s evening He wakes up sore from his hiccupping breaths and dry from the salt on his skin. 

Keith on the other hand forces himself to fall asleep immediately. When he wakes up he throws himself into training. He doesn’t apologize to himself or anyone else for the extra bruises he cost that morning. Anyone who spoke to him was met with a scathing comment about their mother. Most stood clear of him that day. 

That night was too good to be true. 

They spend months in this circle of suffering. Each day they would spend in anticipation of the joy they would feel when they saw each other. By the time they are able to get on the phone, they can’t stop smiling. 

The joy lasts for a while. For a few hours. But every night the call has to end. Every night they have to say goodbye again. Every night they come crashing down from their high. They are hit with the weight of the various crises and the pressure only increases with the added emotions. At the end of the call, they have to say goodbye. Every night. 

And I can't even say I Love You.

For Lance, the worst part is that no one noticed. He spent his days finally in a better mood, and his friends weren’t phased. It was such a dramatic change, how could a friend not notice the smiles that had grown so scarce. How could they not notice the bags under his eyes were gone, and he was no longer covered in bruises from his early morning training bot sessions. He felt so much better yet to his friends it was as though nothing had changed. Or they didn’t care to notice. 

The Blade of Marmora was absolutely baffled by Keith’s change. Though Keith was much better at hiding it, he had learned in his months spent with the Blade that Galra rely on their sense of smell for this kind of thing much more than they would rely on their interpretation of body language. Pheromones change and there is nothing you can do about it. The Galra use it to communicate, though generally in passing the smell is like hearing the hum of conversation in a large crowd. 

He didn't notice it at first. He thought he was imagining the stares he could feel grazing the back of his neck. It took one of the other people in his training group giving him shit to realize it. 

“You need to learn how to keep your scent under control..” 

“... What?”

“You’re scent. We can all tell you’re excited or anticipating, or whatever, you don’t need to broadcast it, have a little control.” 

“What do you mean by my scent? You’re sniffing me??”

“Dude what?” 

“I have no clue what you’re talking about.”

“Ha ha very funny. Just keep it to yourself man.”” 

“Seriously, I have no clue what you’re talking about. I’m a little bit concerned because on earth we don’t exactly make a habit of smelling each other.”” 

“Earth?” 

“Yeah? Haven’t you noticed I'm not exactly purple?”

“I mean, yeah, but I didn't realize you were from the middle of nowhere. I’ve never even heard of that country.” 

“It’s a planet.”

Keith could tell that he is holding back his laughter now. 

“The Empire hasn’t gotten as far as my planet yet, so I didn't know I was part galra until very recently.  

“I don’t know if i’m the person to explain it to you, i don’t have the greatest understanding of it myself either.”

“Just tell me before someone else does.”

“I think it’s like pheromones? We can smell the hormones and the smell changes with your emotions.”

Keith sighed,  before stalking back off to his room. This was the first time he contacted Lance during the day. 

Keith: I just found out galra can sense pheromones. 

Lance: You wut?

Keith: Apparently depending on our emotions we smell different.

Lance: Can you? Smell emotions?

Keith: I never thought about it. I definitely smell a lot more than humans can. One of the Blades told me that most galra learn to control it. Maybe humans don’t emit strong enough pheromones for me to smell. 

Lance: Is it like, rude to have emotions? 

Keith: I wouldn’t be surprised. Galra never seemed like a race of emotionally sensitive people. 

There were invisible boundaries. To keep them from having too much hope, too much happiness. At first the boundary was just speaking to each other in general, because of course they couldn’t be happy together if they weren’t together. 

Lance, evidently, broke that one. Keith wished it were never there in the first place. 

Keith was the one to break the next boundary and Lance was overjoyed. He kept his tablet on him at all times, though he was careful not to let anyone see. He wanted to keep this to himself. Just for now. 

Each time he got a message from Keith, he had to force himself to not smile. It was becoming a problem. At least for a while. 

Soon, not only were the nights terrible, but the days became just as painful. The light drains out of the both of them as they no longer spend their days in excitement to speak to each other but in increasing agony over their distance. Their feelings for eachother grow larger and stronger. So strong that every moment they aren’t allowed to feel it hurts more. 

They lose the time to talk. The war is becoming back to back battles once again. Manpower is needed more than ever so not only is Voltron busy, but so is the Blade. The Coalition is a lot, but there is only so much. It’s difficult to organize universe wide diplomatic meetings, even for Allura.

The lows that follow leaving each other bleed into the days when no time can be found to speak. They bleed into the days where all that can be spoken of us ugly. The days of war. Of death. Of sacrifice. The days where the fight for freedom goes on and the soldiers grow weary. 

Still the same problems prevailed. Lance’s turmoil continued to go unnoticed. He continued to be invisible in his own home amongst his own family. 

Keith longed for his family. For Lance. He wished he could be with them. He wished so hard that it was very apparent to anyone who had a sense of smell worth their salt knew. He was now considered a flight risk. This he scoffed at. As if I’d leave all of you to die just to go home. That’s the catch. His love for his family and his refusal to allow lives to be lost to an empire as vial as Zarkons. He won’t abandon the war, not even for his own happiness. 

Then the day comes. There is a planet called Naxzela. It’s primarily a military outpost for the empire. If the Coalition is able to take and free Naxzela from Empire control, they will have gained control of a third of the Galran Empire. 

The entire Coalition is gathered, doing their best to stop the Empire, around a planet called Naxzela. They fight with everything they have. Every second, someone dies. Every second a ship falls from the sky, not only on their side, but on the Coalition's side as well. 

Voltron is on that planet. Keith’s family is on that planet. Lance is on that planet. Keith fights harder. Another ship drops from the sky. Another. Another. Another. Another. 

Voltron returns. Alive. That’s the good news though, an when it comes to war, it never outweighs the bad. They come back with information. They say the planet had been habitable only because of Altean terraforming technology. Haggar had tapped into this technology and turned the planet into a bomb. The battleship is the detonator. Both the planet and the ship are protected by shields. 

The whole Coalition opens fire. 

Not a scratch. 

“Maybe not with our weapons.” 

Keith takes off, dodging the lasers he soars directly towards the battleship. If our weapons can’t take down the shields, we need something more. The full force of a Blade of Marmora fighter ship just might work. 

If i don’t succeed we will all die. At least this way only one of us is gone. At least this way the pain will go away. 

He didn’t close his eyes as he approached his death. He wasn’t afraid. He knew this was the right thing to do. He chose this, he would not shy away from it. So he looked right at the thin purple glow that would be the end of him. He stared and confronted his death. The veil blinked out of existence.

He jerked the ship away and went sailing just by the edge of the ship. He had stopped listening to the commotion on his audio comm. It was time to tune back in. 

Lotor. 

Lotor had saved his life. 

After the battle, Keith finally was able to return to the Castleship. To return home. Immediately when he steps off his ship a force knocks into him and he nearly topples him over. It’s so warm. He can smell him. He really is home. 

“You fucking idiot!” Anyone could tell that Lance is screaming, despite the fact that he’s muffled by Keith’s shoulder. “How dare you.” 

Keith doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t know which words to choose. He is so happy and so sad. So he is quiet. 

He is quiet and so is Lance as they walk to the infirmary. They ignore the aftermath of the battle. They ignore the Paladins, the rebels, the Blades. They ignore anyone trying to get their attention. Hand in hand, they are the silence between the battles. Lance's eyes are soft when the pod closes. Keith is glad that is the last thing he sees before falling into a deep sleep. 

It is three days before he leaves the pod. Lance waits there in the infirmary the whole time. Coran says that most of his injuries weren’t from the battle. There were minor bruises, sprains, even some fractures from weeks past littered across his body. 

Lance waits for three days and he doesn’t say a word to anyone besides Coran when he’s questioning after Keith’s progress.  Even then his speech is limited. This is when his family finally notices they’ve missed something. 

Over these three days Lance practically moves in. One of the gurneys is claimed as his. The white floors are littered with the tissues he hasn’t bothered to pick up. The bowls and spoons he used for the occasional food goo have created a pile in the corner. There are five blankets. Two on Lance’s gurney (he’d always thought they were too thin) and three laying on the floor just by Keith’s pod. One to lay on, two to keep him warm when he sleeps on the cold white metal. 

He spent a lot of time thinking, while he waited. He thought about a lot of things. Mainly how he almost lost Keith. He almost lost Keith before he was even able to tell him how he truly feels. He spent a lot of this time regretting. He regretted not telling him the most. They both knew. They knew their lives were on the line and they made that their reason to live in fear. They chose that as their reason to not take responsibility for themselves, their reason to run from their own feelings, their reason to punish themselves.

This is war. Lance realized. This is war, and I am brave enough to be fighting it. I should be allowed to love before I die.. Especially if I'm risking my life for theirs. To make sure they don’t have to. If I die out here I don't want to die in regret, never having lived my truth. 

The fourth morning he laid awake on his blankets staring up at Keith. He didn’t look ill at all anymore. He must be almost completely healed by now, he looked just like the Keith that had left. Almost. He had grown taller, his hair had gotten longer. He joked about it being a mullet before, but now it was more than long enough to be braided. He wished he could, it was something he did for his sisters back home. 

His thoughts are interrupted when he hears the electronic schwooop of the pod-shield lowering. He doesn’t have time to get up on his feet before Keith is toppling down. 

“It’s okay. I’ve got you. You’re safe.” Lance says immediately, when Keith falls into his arms. He holds him tightly. It isn’t long before Keith does the same. They both know that Coran and Allura would have been alerted to Keith’s discharge from the pod and would be heading down to check on him. They took the time they had alone to hold onto each other. 

“Is this real?” Keith asks, his voice is so meek. So thin and quiet. 

“Yes, my love. This is real. I’m here. You’re safe.” 

Keith melts into Lance's arms. “I’m home?” 

“You’re home.” 

They hear footsteps outside the infirmary door before they see anyone. They aren’t surprised to see the whole team walk in. They would all want to see Keith when he was better. Lance wasn’t the only one who had missed him. He was family.It would be wrong if they didn’t want to see him after the stunt he’d pulled either.  

Shiro is the first to stalk into the room, with his big muscular body and his big powerful steps. “What the hell is going on here Lance? You’ve been uncollaborative and disrespectful for long enough. It ends now.” He shouts in his best commanding officer voice. 

Keith flinches. Lance squeezes him for a moment, before standing up. “You lost your right to give me orders. If i’ve been ‘uncollaborative and disrespectful’ then it’s obviously been a long time since you’ve looked in a mirror. Especially when your reaction to seeing your brother for the first time in months fall out of a pod because he nearly killed himself.” 

Shiro opens his mouth to speak only to be cut off. This time it is Coran. 

“I think he’s right, Shiro.” His voice is tense and serious. This never happens. “Let the boy speak.” 

Lance almost smiled. It seemed, recently, that Coran was the only one who truly cared. At the very least, he understood. 

“Keith almost dies, and your reaction when he comes out of a pod, three days later probably still coming down from an adrenaline high not only from his near death experience but from the drugs that pod pumped him full of. Your brother comes home from zero contact and your reaction is to storm in and make demands?” Lance speaks to his family. He speaks to his family in a situation other than battle for the first time in weeks. Months. “You really think you’re the one who deserves answers?” 

Lance kneels next to Keith once again. “You need food, water, and to relax.” His voice was soft now. “Do you want to go back to the bedrooms and wait for me there?”

Keith stands up. “I’m going to stay here. With you.” Same old Keith he sounds like. Only Lance could hear the slight quiver in his voice. 

“Lance?” Hunk spoke, concerned, “Buddy, what’s going on? What are we missing?” 

Lance almost laughed. It was a surprise to him. He hadn’t smiled without Keith in a long time. This wasn’t the context he wanted that to happen under. “What have I been doing?” He said decidedly.

Hunk looked confused. 

“What do you mean by that?” Pidge. 

“These last few months. What. Have. I Been. Doing>”

“The same as the rest of us.” Pidge spoke in that matter of fact way of hers.

“Yeah, you helped with the performances. You're loverboy Lance!”

“Exactly. I was Loverboy Lance. That explains so much.” Lance decides that they won’t ever realize on their own. He must open their eyes himself. He must be the one to hurt them. “When have you ever seen me do more than flirt with someone? When was the last time I went home with one, or brought one here? Hell, when was the last time I went on a date?” 

Silence. 

“I flirt. I sign autographs, I joke, and I tease. I have never been a player. I’ve never been Loverboy Lance, not in the way we showed the public. That’s not who I am. Just the same as any of you. Hunk, you are so much more than comedic flatulence, Pidge you aren’t a fraud you’re a genius and you know enough words to fill the script with that the audience will go home knowing how to turn their garbage disposal into a roomba. Allura, you’re your own Paladin, not Keith and there are so many amazing things about you that would make you just as interesting as Keith. 

“Keith isn’t the Lone Wolf. He’s just lonely, he always has been. None of us ever pur in the effort to change that, so why would he in return?” Lance turned to Hunk. “You were my best friend, Hunk, and this hurts so much. It hurts so much to know that you can’t see me for who I really am. I look at all of you and see my family and then I wonder, where did you go?” 

“I spent these last few months in Silence. I knew I wasn't good enough to keep up with you Pidge, Hunk. So I stayed away. I knew I would never live up to your expectations, Shiro, so I didn't bother with you either. I knew you didn’t want me around Allura, so I didn't stick around. I knew i would be left behind. 

“Eventually I stopped speaking.”

Lance stopped then. He took a deep breath. “None of you noticed. My own family had made me feel as though I didn't belong, and so I stopped belonging. Of course you guys were so caught up in being amazing that you didn’t notice. That much I don't care about. This is what is important. 

“How old are you, Pidge?” 

“I’m fifteen, you know that.” 

“Hunk?”

“17.” 

“Back on earth, none of us would be considered an adult. We wouldn’t be allowed to go through the airport alone. We wouldn’t be allowed to buy alcohol. We wouldn’t be allowed to have an input in our government. We would be children. 

“Here, on this ship, far away from our planet. We are war heros. We live in a castle that doubles as a spaceship, or a spaceship that doubles as a castle, and we are Paladins. We fight in battles on a larger scale than any one of our ancestors have ever fought in. We are soldiers.” 

Lance could feel the tears streaming down his face. “More importantly though, we are children.” 

Lance stalked out of the room. 

Keith followed. Even when he’d caught up, Lance didn’t slow down. He was sobbing now. Just like he had each night when they ended their calls. This time, however, Keith was there. This time he could intertwine their fingers. “Lance.” 

When they finally arrived at Lance's bedroom, hospital room, whichever you prefer it’s all the same to him,they both sat up on the bed. Keith held Lance as he cried. He cried and cried and cried and cried. They didn’t know how long they’d been there, but it didn’t truly matter. What did matter was that they were together. Between the sobs Keith could hear Lance mumble something just clearly enough to respond. 

“I love you too.” 

Lance looked up, those deep blue eyes so sad and so afraid, yet so full of hope. He looked intensely at Keith. “We are just children, I did mean what I said back there. We could die at any moment. I don’t want to let that stop us anymore.” 

“What do you mean by that?” 

“I love you Keith, and I don't want to live my life in fear of losing you. I want to use the time we have. This war would last the rest of our lives, whether they end early or decades from now. Why should we waste it?” 

Keith had never thought of it that way. He had let the thought of losing Lance consume him so deeply that he’d never thought of how it might feel to have him fully. “You’re right.” 

“I want to be with you. At this point I think it’s hurting us more to stay apart than it would to be together. Well I guess it’s hurting me, I can't really speak for you – Wait what did you say?” 

“I said you’re right. We should take advantage of the time we have.” 

Lance was speechless. 

“If you leave your mouth open any longer you might catch flies. I told you you were right, don’t get used to it.” 

Lance had been a man of words all night. He was sick of it. He grabbed onto Keith’s jawline and pulled his lips toward his own. He was so warm, like fire against his skin as they kissed. They’d been playing this game for so long. The kiss was the greatest thing Lance had ever experienced, or at least it felt like it in that moment. They kissed for a long time. Longer than they should. 

It was Keith that finally broke the kiss. He only broke away for a moment, before burying his face in Lance’s shoulder. 

“We have to talk about it, you know.” 

“Not now. You make me so happy. I just want to be happy right now. It’s been so long since I've been happy.”

“That’s okay. You’re allowed to be happy. That’s our mission from now on. Happiness.” 

They spent the night in Lance's room. They took their last opportunity to relax. After everything that has happened, not only over the course of the last few hours, but over the course of the last few days, weeks, months. They deserve peace, even if only for a moment. 

The next morning they walked out to breakfast hand in hand. They had a calm conversation with their team. With their family. They spoke about how they felt so alone. They spoke about how they’ve spent so long being too afraid of  death to love each other. They spoke about how they are so scared all the time, but never scared for themselves. They would all die for the cause at a moment’s notice, but they still feared the death of their friends and family. 

Everyone shared how they felt, not only Lance and Keith. Pidge shared how scared she was. She was so young. Hunk shared how he felt so guilty for being the cowardly one, and wishes he could be brave like the rest of the Paladins. Allura tells them how she believes that she is only a Paladin because of her father, as though it was some sort of obligation. Shiro expressed that he was so afraid he wasn’t qualified to be the leather of a universal revolution. Coran worries he isn’t useful. 

They all feel so alone. So isolated that they couldn’t find comfort in their own family. 

They came to an understanding. Allura and Shiro, and Coran realized they were wrong for putting so much pressure on a bunch of teenagers that didn’t know what they were getting into. Keith, Lance, Hunk, and Pidge all realized that they didn’t have to pretend to be braver than they were. 

Especially because they were the bravest in the universe. 

Even war heroes are allowed to have a weakness. 

Especially if they’re children.

#fanfiction #fanfic #angst #fluff #voltron #unresolved emotional tension #pining lance #lance is a mess #insecure lance #galra keith #keith is bad at feelings #keith is a mess #blade of marmora keith #blade of marmora #naxzela #pining keith #keith x lance #voltron: legendary defender

[somethingsomethingwords]

Hello everybody. Long time no see, but it's been one of those months, you know. This was something I've been thinking about for a while, but I only finished it because of @nico-di-genova. So this is for you honey.

As always thanks to everyone for reading. Enjoy 💜

Everything was going great. Fernando was at a party, where people were drinking and having fun. All around him, the younger drivers were finally decompressing, enjoying the alcohol, the food and the company.

At the center of the sea of people, there was the brightest star of the night.

Lance had finally won a race, and he was celebrating as loudly as he could, sandwiched between Esteban and Mick.

He envied the joy written all over their faces, and how close they were.

He loved the sport, even after his fake retirement, even after all those years, but there was something about maiden wins that still no other win could recreate.

Jóder, soy tan viejo was thinking Nando, when someone tapped his shoulder.

"I think it's late enough, no?" asked Pierre, and it really was getting late, and the trio seemed to be losing energy.

"Yeah, sounds about right. How about we split them? I'm taking Mick, and you take your teammates?" said Lewis, already stepping towards the boys.

Pierre started following him, muttering some curses that would have made blush a sailor. Nando snorted at the scene, and looked as the Brit took the German, while the French men started bickering.

The Canadian was looking around, confused after losing his partners in crime, but then he turned towards Fernando and smiled, slowly making his way towards the Spanish.

"Hola Lancito. Want to go?" asked Nando, seeing the younger man swinging slightly on his feet.

"I lost Estie and Mickie. Où sont-ils?"

Half drunk out of his mind, and he was still worried about his friends. Lance's loyalty really knew no bounds.

"They're ok, with Lewis and Pierre. I will take you home." and with that, he placed his hand on the younger's lower back.

The reaction was immediate. Lance's whole body shivered and pressed against his side, lowering his head on the shorter man's shoulder.

"Too loud. Je veux du silence"

"Oui mon amour. Let's go somewhere quiet" his French was heavily accented, but Lance seemed satisfied enough.

Nando guided the other man to his car, and drove them to their shared hotel, while Lance napped with his face against the window and his neck in a weird position.

When they arrived, Fernando struggled a little to wake the other enough to put him vertically in the elevator and walk to his room. At the door, Lance refused to lean against the doorframe, and settled only when he was hugging Fernando. "Warm" was the only word he said.

"Lance, I need the key"  Fernando spoke softly.

"Poche" just answered the taller man, with no visible intention to loosen the embrace.

Fernando tried to be respectful, and to not feel the solid curve pressed against his hand. He soon found the key in his back pocket, and opened the door.

Once they were both in, he quickly realised that Lance would not move further, so he just put him on the bed, and went to take a glass and fill it with water.

Returning to the bedroom, he found Lance half naked.

"Where are your pants?" he asked, voice an octave too high, almost dropping the glass, before setting it on a nightstand.

"Lost them. Too hot" he shrugged.

Then, even more bafflingly, he started giggling.

"What is now?" he asked, fondly looking as Lance tried to take off his shirt without opening a single button. He succeeded, but his hair was now a fluffy mess.

"You remind me of Nano"

The use of his nickname surprised Fernando. The younger man refused using it, always sticking with his full name. Then the absurdity of it all hit him, and he started giggling as well.

"Ah, sì? How so?"

He was getting curious, sue him.

"It's your voice. It's soft and warm. Would listen for hours"

Fernando wasn't expecting this answer, but it melted his heart anyway.

"Mhhh. Then want a bedtime story?"

Any more time spent with Lance was a gift and a surprise wrapped in wonder. He was not going to deny himself this experience, even only for blackmail reasons. Jokingly, he was done with mind games and tricks. He would never do them again, especially not against Lance.

"Nah. A secret"

"A secret, mh? Let's trade. You tell me, I tell you" if Fernando was going to indulge him, at least it was going to be funny.

"Ça va...Ah, oui, daccord, j'en ai un. I like him so much" and then started giggling again.

Fernando felt like all of his body had gone stone cold, and couldn't move a muscle. He couldn't believe what the other told him. But before he could say anything, Lance nestled in the sheets, and softly said while closing his eyes:

"I like him soooooo much, even if he doesn't feel the same. It's ok, don't think I'd deserve him. What we have, it's special. It is enough"

And with this, he was done for the day.

And he wasn't the only one. Fernando felt like he was going to explode, too many thoughts in his head and words on his tongue, with no one to talk to. He could feel his hair turning gray.

But a single look to that peaceful face, and his heart stopped beating erratically. Everything was going to be alright. They could face this together.

This and more, hopefully.

They were going to solve this tangled mess, but first they both needed to rest.

So he left a note for Lance, simply writing "Call me in the morning. -FA" on a piece of paper and leaving it on top of Lance's phone, where he was sure the other man would see it, and then he left the room, dreaming of his own bed and a restful night of sleep.

---

He was never going to win another GP ever again, if the results were the pounding headache and the rancid taste in his mouth.

He slowly opened his eyes, careful of the half opened blinds, and looked around.

Thanks to some sort of divine intervention, he had made it to the hotel safe and sound.

He got up and went to the bathroom, peeing, washing his face and brushing his teeth.

When he came back to the bedroom, he started looking for his phone. He almost missed it, but then noticed it was just half covered by a yellow post-it. It simply said "Call me in the morning. -FA".

Ok, so he probably would have to thank Fernando for making it to his bed unscathed. He tried to think about the night before, especially trying to remember his interaction with the Spanish driver.

At first, he couldn't remember anything out of the ordinary, then it hit him.

An echo of his own giggle, soft brown eyes, the whisper of a "like him so much".

Oh, no.

Oh no.

He had done it. He confessed, and now Fernando was going to be overly amused about it. Or overly nice, and Lance didn't know what was worse.

Rejection was always a bitch, but basically having to live with your unrequited crush for 24 week-ends? That was going to be a nightmare to go through for all parts involved.

Or maybe just for Lance, with his stupid feelings and his too-hopeful heart.

Ugh, Lance just didn't know what to do.

On one hand, he wanted to call Fernando and be done with all of this. On the other, he wanted to pretend nothing happened, and everything was fine and normal and good.

He sighed, because deep down he knew he was going to have to talk with Fernando, if he liked it or not.

Ok, let's analyze. He knows I like him, and still wants to talk to me. So, he is going to reject me kindly, at least. Ok, we can totally take it like champs. Basic rule still applied: no tears in front of him. It should be quick and painless. Ok, we can do this.

So he took his time in the shower, and ordered a healthy if slightly generous breakfast.

When he was done, he brushed his teeth, wore his comfort hoodie and left his room in a controlled chaos.

One mess at a time: first his love life, then his room.

He knew that Fernando's room was the one across from his, so he didn't even bother calling. He simply knocked.

When the door opened, Lance was sure he had hit his head badly the night before. Maybe the possible concussion and heavy hepatic failure led him to an early grave.

But if death meant he could get to see a still semi-wet Nando, covered just by a tiny towel low on his hips, well, he lived a rich and full life, if a little short.

He could feel himself staring, but also couldn't take his eyes off the view.

He just waited for the self-combustion to take him.

Then he heard a light chuckle, and a hand gently gripped his sleeve, pulling him inside.

When the subject of his awe turned his back on him, walking to the adjacent kitchenette, his brain seemed to be back online.

He shook his head and closed the door behind himself like a particularly stupid rabbit that voluntarily enters the den of a particularly fascinating fox.

Fernando must have known how nervous he was feeling, because he gave him a glass of water and led him to the couch.

"Wait here, I'll be right back" said the Spanish man, leaving Lance alone, stunned and with the glass still in his hand.

You're being ridiculous, grow a pair and just talk like the adult you supposedly are, a voice in his head that sounded like his sister's gently scolded him.

He drank the water while waiting, and felt slightly better.

When Fernando re-entered the room, calm and collected and clothed, Lance waited until he was seated before looking him in the eyes and starting speaking.

"Thank you for last night. For bringing me here safely, I mean"

Not the smoother transition ever, but Fernando had to be used to how stilted he sounded, and would appreciate it anyway.

"No need to. We are friends, no?" he asked with something in his eyes that Lance couldn't describe, but that made him want to talk more.

"About that... I also wanted to say sorry if I said something weird yesterday"

See Chloe? He was actually talking about things that embarrassed him instead of forever avoiding them. Well, not really being super specific, but small progress was still progress.

"Hmm... And what are you referring to?"

The bastard was actually going to make him say the words. Well, in for a penny...

"That I like you"

Lance could feel his cheeks heating up and could no longer stand Fernando's gaze, so he moved his eyes until he was watching a particularly boring patch of carpet.

"Lance, look at me"

It only took those four words, spoken in a tone so gentle and warm to bring Lance's eyes back to Fernando's.

"Why are you apologizing? Did you lie?" he asked softly.

"No" he half shouted, and then flinched because of the reaction. "No, I do like you" he said, exhaling.

"Then what are you apologizing for?"

Fernando could be soft when he wanted, but that didn't stop him from being stubborn.

"I didn't want to offend you" and also didn't want you to really know, because it's embarrassing and you deserve better and I can't be normal about this nor you.

He didn't say the words, but Fernando must have been able to hear them anyway, because he responded firmly.

"You didn't"

That lifted a huge weight from Lance's shoulders. Maybe this partnership could still be saved.

"Ok. Good, I'm glad" he was being awkward and subtly twisting his fingers. But nothing escaped Fernando's attention.

Seeing how the younger man was spiralling in his own thoughts, he didn't hesitate, reaching out to him and taking a hold of his hands.

"There is no need to be nervous. Just tell me again, tell me properly"

Lance could see in his eyes the want and the patience and something else.

They were in this together, he suddenly realised.

You are not alone anymore, said his mental Chloe.

He inhaled as much air as he could, held it and then exhaled. He found the strength he needed in a pair of brown eyes that were already looking in his own.

"I've been wanting to tell you for so long. I like you. I like how you drive, how you give feedback on the car and how you are always, no matter what, the best. But that's just racing stuff. I like how you compliment me, how you never made me feel less than, or just a spoiled kid, how you make me feel. But those are selfish reasons. I like how kind you are with kids, how ready you are to help any of the other drivers. But most importantly, I like you, Fernando Alonso, two times world champion, menace on and off track, mentor and teammate and friend and so much more. I like you, Nando"

He barely finished talking that there was a pair of lips on his own, soft and warm and gentle.

He realised he closed his eyes only when he opened them, and in front was Fernando, bright and shining and perfect in every way that mattered. To Lance, at least.

"You made me wait a long time, no? Let's not waste anymore" he said before diving in a second kiss that was hot and passionate and demanding.

Fernando broke the kiss and stood up, starting to walk, and Lance could only follow the man leading him towards his bed, and towards a life together.

#strollonso #fernando alonso #lance stroll #grumpy cat boy x besotted old man #some love for lance #because he deserves it #insecure lance is insecure but nando gets him so...

[discordiansamba]

anyways I don't know if it's due to falling asleep to the backdrop of people setting off way too many fireworks or not, but I had a weird dream last night and now I am here to tell you guys all about it because I've been idly rotating it all day. you've heard of body swap not get ready for... personality swap, I guess? But not completely?

anyways it seemed to take place at the tail end of season one, where instead of getting shot out into random locations by the corrupted wormhole, all the lions stayed on the Castle, but something about the combination of the corrupted wormhole and the paladin bond resulted in something... weird happening. Some kind of quintessence rearrangement that resulted in Lance, Hunk, Pidge, and Keith all swapping aspects of their personalities around that Shiro was apparently spared from because of some kind of defense mechanism that Pidge installed in the control chip for his arm that's in his brain that protected him but the backlash forced him to require some time in the cyropod.

(I guess my brain said. you know what would be funny. Shiro just waking up to this nonsense. and honestly? valid.)

(also allura and coran are fine and somehow escaped the wormhole don't worry about it. apparently the mice did also have their personalities swapped around but like. they're mice. they don't care.)

Pidge was probably the least effected bc she got traits from Hunk, who she already has a decent amount in common with, except now she's prone to nervous tirades, is now a morning person, and is calmed by the act of cooking. except she can't cook. Hunk at least kept very clear notes on all of his cooking experiments so she has something to work with. She suddenly finds herself more drawn to tinkering with things as opposed to coding, but she can still do the latter super easily. Also she has a solid sleep schedule now? She also stops wearing her brother's glasses bc she winds up fixated on the idea that she'll break them so she just keeps them safe in her room instead. Which she has now cleaned. She still kind of feels like she dodged a bullet. Sorry guys.

Lance is... having an experience, because he picked up traits from Pidge. He likes studying now? Except apparently he still has ADHD, but also Coran gave him this clicker thing that seems to be working wonders. He's suddenly a lot less interested in flirting and his detailed skin care routine kind of doesn't seem so important anymore. He has to actively set alarms on his phone otherwise he'll pull all nighters. He's starting to learn how to code? Which is weird but it's oddly calming. He's also pretty sure he picked up Pidge's sense of humor, because Pidge definitely picked up Hunk's sense of humor.

Hunk, to his great misfortune, has picked up traits from Keith. Which also includes his temper and his general introversion, the former of which he is working very hard on managing. He's also spending way more time on the training deck than ever before, but it suddenly doesn't feel like exercise so much as it feels... relaxing? Also he is like. always tense. What the hell, Keith, how did you live like this. How is HE going to live like this. Although it is kind of nice to not feel the urge to puke from nerves, which he... doesn't really seem to have anymore? That's kind of nice.

Keith is probably the oddest case of the bunch. He picked up personality traits from Lance, which he can't even get angry about because he doesn't have a temper anymore? apparently? He's suddenly a lot more extroverted, and also he feels the weird compulsion to... flirt? He's also become way more interested in self care and is suddenly not a morning person anymore. But for all that in some ways he has the most traits leftover from his core personality, because those traits turned out not to be parts of his personality so much as they were due to him being Galra- so he still likes training and fighting as much as he did before. Which is great, because if he let Lance's personality take him by the nose, he'd definitely just start to coast on his talent.

But they also each still have core aspects of themselves that apparently their lions preserved so it's not a full personality swap. Pidge will still wax poetic about the tech around them. Lance might not be huge into self care anymore, but he's still interested in trying to keep himself looking good. Hunk is still very kind, which makes having Keith's temper hard on him. Keith still is a nature boy and a jock, and somehow still doesn't understand how the cheer goes.

POV: You're Shiro. You wake up to this mess. It's been like this for a week apparently, and Coran and Allura don't know how to fix it.

...can you just go back to the cryopod maybe?

#apparently lance bought himself a pair of fake glasses that looked like Veronica's #he needed it to sell his new brainy personality. which is a very Lance thing to think #apparently my subconscious decided keith was better at flirting than lance. which is funny so I'm saying it's right #also apparently part of taking better care of himself involved no longer shaving down his nails so they just ended up sharp and pointy #keith reached his maximum hotness potential through self care incident. 340457 dead 4858582 injured #lance voice: what do you MEAN I kept my *insecurity*. that's the one personality trait I didn't want! #honestly. could be a vehicle for both incredible shenanigans AND character study #what makes a person who they are etc #identity crisis au

[klanced]

this isn’t even about my evil agenda anymore I actually just need to hear your dissertation on voltron/klance x first love late spring

you do evil things to my dick and balls. i hope you know that.

first love / late spring is a very keith-core song, but i think it also applies to both keith and lance... but more specifically, FL/LS is keith pre-relationship, and then FL/LS is lance once they have already started dating.

i'm obsessed with that one interview of mitski where she explained that she wrote this song while she was experiencing her vulnerable first love... and first love is vulnerable. you simultaneously reap the rewards of being known but at the same time, you've now let someone else know you, and now you have to trust them to take care of you. and it's so vulnerable. it's more naked than being naked. and it's so difficult as well because now you're learning a brand new way you can be hurt.

so keith, pre-relationship... he's pining for lance and he is MISERABLE. he's lost control! he feels like he's being consumed by the enormity of his feelings. he's eight years old and small and never asked for this, he never wanted to know he could feel this way. he just wants lance to fucking go already. keith wants to spit vitriol and blame and shame and drive lance away so that when lance leaves him (and he will leave him, like everyone else has), then at least it will be on keith's own terms for once. and keith doesn't, he refuses, to say how he feels. he'll spitefully choke on his confession until it suffocates him. he doesn't want to know what lance might say.

but he also is afraid of lance's reaction because... if lance gives him even a sliver of ground, if there's even a promise of a chance -- keith will fold instantly. he will jump into this love headfirst. he'll do anything if it will make lance stay with him.

and then lance, mid-established relationship... things with keith are perfect, everything is going great, so why does lance feel so anxious all the time? why does he feel so scared when keith looks at him like he's his whole world? maybe the problem is lance. because what they have is real. because he's pretty sure keith is it for him. and that terrifies lance. because lance, deep down, knows he's going to screw this up. and it's not just his heart on the line; he's also going to hurt keith.

keith smiles at him and lance feels sick to his stomach. he wants to tell keith that they might be happy right now, but eventually, lance is going to ruin this. he wants to warn keith that lance is going to break his heart one day.

lance isn't always so negative about himself. during the day, it's easy to let himself be buoyed and enveloped by his feelings for keith. he loves being in love with keith. because the love is real. it's real, and it's there, and that matters. but at night, all those poisonous insecurities and anxieties rear their ugly head, and lance finds himself standing on a ledge over a drop. lance daydreams about spending the rest of his life with keith; lance has never felt so young and small.

#mintcaboodle #klance #voltron #ask #the old child/young adult metaphor is also like. so lance-core. AND THE 'I DON'T WANT TO GO HOME' LINE!!!!!!!! #im in my feels tonight i'm sorry the lance analysis is not fully cooked #also like obviously lance doesn't always feel this way. it's more pertinent closer to the beginning when he #starts to fully realize the depths of his feelings and he's freaking out because he's beginning to understand what it means to spend #the rest of your life with someone and that is a TERRIFYING thing to want and imagine when you're only 17/18 #lance does get better though and his insecurities die out the longer and more stable his relationship with keith is #though sometimes those same insecurities crop up now and again #i talk a lot about pining keith and how like tumultuous his experience is. but once he starts dating lance things even out for him #whereas lance is relatively chill in his pining and then begins to flounder after they get together and after he's realized the Love word #otp: we are a good team #katiecanons #idk i guess #keith #lance

[empty-blog-for-lurking]

My ideal vld fix-it is Lance and Hunk having "two birds on a wire" style blind faith vs unhealthy mistrust parallel arcs, where Lance trusts the wrong person and not himself to the point of actively ignoring the warning signs he sees vs Hunk who trusts himself but doesnt trust others to the point of going full Nancy Drew and going behind his teams back, and this causes a chasm in their friendship which would have been more focused upon in earlier seasons (and then they kiss <3)

#lance mcclain #lance voltron #hunk garrett #hunk vld #hunk voltron #lance vld #hance #hanceome #voltron #voltron legendary defender #empty thoughts #Listen to me #In both the episodes where Lance and Hunk were focused this was the central theme #Lance trusts and Hunk doesnt #We can make arcs out of this #Shipping is mostly there for the Bit but yeah #Edit: also it goes without saying but Kuron and Allura stay alive #And also i am not suggesting 'poor insecure baby Lance who got tricked into this' no! No! #Lance needs to be flawed and in the right and the wrong in this one as much as Hunk would be #Have him put people on pedestal! Hold him responsible for mistakes! Dont you dare defang him!

[lucyllawless]

#legends of tomorrow #avalance #lotedit #ava sharpe #sara lance #wlw #wlwedit #dctvgifs #dvtvladies #ok but what other show gave their wlw couple an entire episode to work through their feelings and insecurities in a metaphorical ikea #i love this ep so much #no one did it like legends #i'm spiraling a lil bit

[evilhorse]

I feel like that was a jab at me.

(WildC.A.T.s #10)

#wildc.a.t.s #Batman #Bruce Wayne #black canary #dinah lance #red arrow #Arsenal #roy harper #insecure #poor Roy #team up #weak link #matthew rosenberg #tom derenick #dc comics #comics #2020s comics

[autisticlancemcclain]

The first bout of whispering, Shiro can ignore. He’s a teacher by trade, after all. Astronaut, sure. Paladin, even. But he always expected to be a teacher, trained for it, and he knows when you put a group of teenagers in a room and expect them to start learning by lecture, there’s going to be some whispering. He’d be concerned if there wasn’t, frankly.

But as it keeps happening, again and again, to the point where it’s almost constant, Shiro begins to lose his patience.

“Lance, Hunk,” he says, catching himself long before then. He tries to smile, gentle but firm. “Everything okay?”

The two boys clam up immediately. Lance even begins to lean slightly away from Hunk, although Shiro’s not sure he notices.

Shiro frowns, puzzled at the reaction. That’s — uncommon. He’s seen embarrassed, seen sheepish, seen unbothered, even seen downright rude, but Lance looks almost… afraid. And Hunk looks at him with a lot more anxiety than the situation calls for, but Shiro is beginning to notice that that’s just Hunk.

The both mutter some semblance of apology, and Shiro moves on quickly, unwilling to dwell on the incident too long.

For the rest of the briefing, he keeps an eye on them. He’s still focused, of course, as their break-in and recon on a nearby Empire warship is not only hugely dangerous, but will also be hugely beneficial, but he lets his notes do a lot of the talking for him. He flits his eyes to the pair every so often, and while Hunk meets his eyes on occasion, smiling slightly, Lance keeps his head down, hunched over his tablet.

Shiro notices that the tablet is powered off. He doesn’t write a single note.

His shoulders are hunched up to his ears.

———

“Alright, kiddo, good job.”

Keith grins, stepping backwards and bowing to finish the fight. Shiro bows back, matching his smile.

“You did great.”

“I know,” Keith says cheekily. “You’re getting easier and easier to beat. Probably because you’re elderly.”

Shiro raises an eyebrow. “Am I.”

His annoying little brother hums, completely unconcerned. He steps off to the side and starts swinging around his training stick, very clearly showing off. “Mhm. It was super easy to fight you. I just went whoosh, smack, bam! —” he punctuates every sound with a swing and slash of the stick — “and every hit just landed. Honestly, I think a punching bag would have been more of a challenge. Adam is a way better spar partner than you. I wish I was shot into space with him.”

Shiro’s eye twitches. It’s a clear goad, he knows it is. Keith isn’t even trying to hide it. He’s a twerp with too much energy and too much experience pressing all of Shiro’s buttons — a favourite button of his, of course, being the bit of…healthy competition Shiro has always had with his boyfriend.

(He’s well aware of the irony. He hears Adam pointing and laughing in his head every time he endures Keith’s complaining about Lance pulling his mullet, so to speak. In fact keeping his mouth shut about the parallels is the only thing keeping him from throwing Keith down the laundry chute. He’s waiting for a moment when the reveal can be well and truly devastating.)

Shiro manages, with herculean strength, to step away from his turd of a brother, putting his training stick away.

“I am leaving,” he says loudly, pointedly turning away. “I said I’d train one hour with you and not a second more.”

He feels Keith’s pout more than sees it. “Coward.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Shiro snorts, waving his hand dismissively. He hears swishing sounds, and the clicks of buttons — Keith is starting up his own training. Again. “Don’t be late for dinner or I’ll send Lance after you.”

“Can’t promise I won’t maim him,” Keith mutters. “Sometimes I just want to wring his neck.”

Shiro is very familiar with that feeling. Or at least the raving about it. He used to feel great pleasure in driving Adam to that point, just because he was hot when he was mad. But Shiro values his limbs — or at least what’s left of them — where they are, so he keeps the comments to himself as he makes his way out of the training room, meandering back to his own quarters.

He takes his time showering and redressing, knowing he’s got some time before dinner. He thinks Hunk even managed to wrestle Coran out of the kitchen, which means no food goo. It also means that he’s banned from even breathing near the kitchen until the food is fully cooked and completed — which is a bullshit ban and one based in false accusations — but he’s sure he can help set the table, or something. Stir a pot. He’s good at that.

He towels off his hair, not bothering to style it, and takes his time walking over to the kitchens. The castle floors are cold under his bare feet, he finds himself wishing he had the lion slippers Lance made him. They’re very warm. He never wears them because he’s terrified of ruining them, but it’s so icy in here that he might start having to, or else he’ll freeze.

As he approaches the kitchen, he hears voices. He freezes, quieting his steps and pausing behind the wall to listen. Hopefully no one else walks by, or that will be humiliating.

“— all you have to do is ask, Lance, just casually, it’s not even —”

“— it is even, Hunk, it’s the worst and I’m not doing it, why would I inconvenience —”

“— it isn’t! Not even a little! It’s the smallest tiniest thing!”

“Hunk —”

Hunk throws his hands up in exasperation, spoon going flying and splattering some kind of blue sauce all over the cabinets. Neither of them even blinks at it.

“I am tired of watching you struggle, Leandro! Heaven forbid you ask for help!”

Shiro frowns. That’s not good. That sounds serious.

“I asked for help,” Lance huffs, arms crossed over his chest. “I asked you, didn’t I?”

“I don’t count and you know it,” Hunk says sharply, mirroring him. “I already knew.”

Lance looks away, clenching his jaw. His fingers are tangled in his jacket’s sleeve, tense.

“You don’t have to help anymore if it’s too hard,” he mumbles. “I can handle it myself.”

Hunk softens. “It’s not that, Lance.” He wipes his hands in his apron and pulls Lance to his chest. Lance goes, although he doesn’t move his arms, burying his face in Hunk’s shoulder. “You know it’s not that. If that’s all we have then I’ll keep doing it, damn the consequences.” He pulls back slightly, nudging Lance back so he can look him in the face. “You can just do better, dude. All you gotta do is tell Shiro about your —”

A hand claps over Hunk’s mouth, cutting him off, and Lance squeaks, “Hey, Shiro, hello, hi!”

Shiro startles. He scrambles upright before Hunk turns all the way, so at least he’s only seen crouching by the door like a weirdo by one person.

He clears his throat. “Uh, hi.”

“You’re banned from the kitchen,” Hunk says, muffled. How he looks so mighty and dignified with Lance’s hands still very much pressed to his face is well and truly beyond him. Shiro is frankly awed.

“I just came to help set the table,” he assures, hands held up in surrender. “Promise I’ll stay away from the actual food.”

Hunk narrows his eyes, but must decide he could use the help, because he nods, stepping backwards so Lance’s hands fall back down.

“Alright,” he sighs. “I’m making stew. You can set out utensils if you must but know I’ll judge you heavily for it. Lance, come help me finish up.”

Lance scrambles after him, avoiding Shiro’s gaze like he’s sure he’s going to get yelled at. Shiro watches him go, perplexed.

———

The next few days are, for the most part, manageable. Their mission goes well, Keith is surprisingly mellow — Shiro suspects the little nerd has discovered a library of some kind — and distress calls are minimal. All in all, Shiro should be taking the time as the blessing it is and catching up on some much needed R&R.

Instead, he’s worrying about the Blue Paladin.

Shiro can’t say he knows him well. They’ve hardly been in space a couple of months, after all, and while Shiro must have taught him a couple times — he was in the piloting program so it’s almost impossible that they didn’t cross paths — the Garrison is huge, and Shiro largely teachers younger students. Shiro can’t recall teaching a Lance, anyway.

But he can tell something’s off.

Besides the fact that Hunk keeps looking at Lance with concern, the Cuban seems…withdrawn, almost. He still works hard in training and smokes them in any kind of long distance, but there doesn’t seem to be any joy in it. Even his arguments with Keith seem halfhearted, which Keith will never admit leave him agitated as much as it has Shiro’s eyebrows raising. Shiro is sure, basically, that something is the matter, and surer still that he has to be the one to fix it.

How exactly he should go about it…well, that’s the part he’s struggling with. He knows Lance is kind of star-eyed around him, even though they’re on the same playing field, so Shiro’s not sure just regular talking to him about it is going to do something. And he seemed pretty resistant when Hunk pressed, in the conversation Shiro overheard. He’s just not sure what to do.

Luckily, the situation starts to resolve itself.

“Hey, Shiro, can I talk to you?” Lance mumbles into his breakfast, as everyone else is distracted by Pidge and Keith’s loud argument about cryptids (Shiro has heard it too many times at this point. He’s tuned it out).

Shiro blinks. “Sure,” he says, trying to keep the shock out of his voice. “Now?”

“Uh, after we eat, maybe.”

Shiro tries very hard not to seem over enthusiastic. He sucks at that, so it doesn’t work, and it seems to make Lance more stressed, which only stresses Shiro out more. By the time everyone has finished up and people are starting to file out to various tasks, the tension between them is so thick Shiro feels as if he might suffocate.

Suddenly, as if he propelled himself, Lance springs to his feet, snatching his bowl and Shiro’s and powerwalking towards the kitchen sink. Shiro, startled, follows him.

“You okay?” Shiro asks softly, noticing the whiteness of Lance’s knuckles, clenched around a sponge, and the robotic way he scrubs it across a dirty spoon.

Lance says nothing. He keeps his eyes trained resolutely on the soapy water, spine ramrod straight, nerves bleeding from him in waves.

Hesitantly, Shiro rolls up his sleeves, standing beside him and beginning to dry what he rinses. As Shiro gets close he gets tenser, shoulders hiked up to his ears, but as the minutes drag on, empty kitchen echoing the sound of swishing water and clanking cutlery, he begins to calm down. Shiro watches his face relax, easing its worries twist, and terror fade from his brown eyes.

He hands Shiro the last clean dish to dry, then pulls the plug on the sink, darting over to grab a hand towel and starting to dry.

“Can you write mission plans in pink?”

The words rush out of him, like he’d been holding them between his teeth for God knows how long and they’d finally spilled out. He looks almost nauseous after he says them.

Shiro blinks. That was…not what he’d expected.

“…Why?”

“It’s perfectly okay if you can’t,” Lance continues, as if Shiro had not spoken. “I mean, whatever. I’ll figure it out. I’ve gone without this long, after all, and it’s totally doable. Of course there’s the migraines and the agony but that’s all light work. It’s war, after all. Ha.” He chuckles nervously.

He’s shrunk in on himself, looking almost small. Shiro stares at him with a dropped jaw and wide eyes. Lance doesn’t even notice, eyes focused intensely on the hand towel, breathing worryingly erratic.

“I just swore to Hunk that I’d ask, you know. He said it wouldn’t hurt. And of course it wouldn’t but I don’t need it. It’s just. You know.”

Shiro cannot stress enough how much he doesn’t know. He hasn’t felt this lost in a while.

“Pink makes the letters stick to the page. And I know that sounds stupid as shit and that’s because it is stupid as shit, unfortunately. Dyslexia is the dumbest thing in the world, actually. And who named it that? You know how hard that word is to spell? It’s hard. They should have called it — I dunno, I just mean, it’s whatever. It’s fine. I’ve handled it this long. Uh.” He looks up, finally, and maybe he doesn’t know how to make sense of Shiro’s expression, because he winces, shame overtaking his face. He sets down the towel and gestures vaguely behind him, stepping towards the door. “I’m just gonna — go. Sorry. See you later. Sorry.”

He all but flees out of the room. Shiro barely manages to snag the back of his hoodie, holding him in place.

“Lance. Chill a second. Give me time to respond.”

Lance looks deploringly at the door, then back at Shiro. He looks like he’s accepting his death. Shiro can’t help but feel the teensiest bit offended.

“I’m not going to bite you,” he says, aghast. “Jesus, kid. You’re going to give me a complex.”

To Shiro’s great relief, the remark makes Lance grin. Some of the tension eases from his face.

“You sound like my mother.”

“From what I’ve heard, that’s a compliment,” Shiro says lightly. He pulls out two chairs, orienting them so they’re facing each other. He deliberately takes the one farthest from the door, so Lance doesn’t feel trapped. He gestures to the other one. “Sit.”

Lance does.

“Now. From the beginning and with a little less fear, hopefully. Tell me what’s up, kiddo.”

Lance looks down at his hands, where he’s picking at a scar on his wrist.

“Um. So. I have dyslexia. I can’t read too well.”

Lance cringes as he says it. Shiro wonders who he has to kill for putting the idea that this is something to be ashamed about in his head.

“Cool,” Shiro says, as encouragingly as he can manage. “The main character of my favourite book series as a kid had dyslexia. I was jealous of everyone who had it. I used to pray for it.”

The revelation startles a laugh out of Lance, like Shiro hoped it would. The tension melts right off of him.

“You prayed?”

“Every night,” Shiro affirms, grinning. “I even crossed my eyes and pretended when it didn’t work. My mother didn’t believe me for a second.”

“You’re a dweeb,” Lance says, sounding kind of awed. Like he’s shocked that Shiro, too, is a nerd loser on this castle full of other nerd losers. “Dyslexia sucks.”

Letting his face settle into something more serious, Shiro nods. “I imagine it does.” He reaches over and squeezes Lance’s hand, subtly stopping him from picking at the skin. Keith has the same bad habit. “Writing in pink helps?”

Lance shrugs. “Sorta. Dunno why. But things are less squiggly when they’re written in pink or red. Not perfect, but it’s something. I can hardly read at all when they’re in black; it’s like my eyes are spinning out of my head trying to focus on ‘em. Gives me migraines like you would not imagine.”

“And thus Hunk whispering the plans to you so you don’t have to read them,” Shiro surmises, the whispering during briefings suddenly making sense. Guilt twinges in his belly.

“Yeah. Sorry about that, by the way. Didn’t mean to be rude.”

“Of course not,” Shiro says gently. “I get it now. Sorry for not understanding.” He frowns, remembering something. “I should’ve asked beforehand. Or suspected something, or known better, really. I had a kid a few years back in one of my astronomy courses. Li-something. I marked all his stuff in red for the same reasons.”

Lance makes a very particular face. Warning bells go off in Shiro’s head.

“I appreciated that very much,” Lance says politely.

It takes a moment for it to click.

Shiro considers banging his head against the table.

“Please tell me no,” he begs, ears reddening.

“It was a great honour to be renamed by the Takashi Shirogane,” Lance insists.

“I had you in my class for three years!” Shiro says, aghast. “I — I called you Li all the time! In front of people!”

“I didn’t want to correct you! That’s — embarrassing!”

Shiro cradles his head in his hands. Dear God. He knows he’s not great with names, but — Jesus. To rename a kid. Blatantly. Other teachers must have thought he was some cruel jackass.

“I think there was a Li McKinney ahead of me in roll call,” Lance offers, patting Shiro’s back delicately. “So. Pretty easy to mess up.”

“Did you write your name as Li on tests? And assignments?”

“After the first couple times, yeah. Hunk laughed at me. At a certain point I’d just dug myself too deep, I think.”

Shiro sighs, dragging his hand down his face. It’s still quite hot. He looks up at Lance, who’s mouth is twitching.

“You were short as shit back then,” he observes, trying to picture the kid in his class. “Like, shorter than Pidge.”

Lance scowls. “I was — saving up on growth spurts. Yeah. So. Purge that from your memory.” He smirks. “Like my name.”

Shiro groans. “I’m never hearing the end of that, am I.”

Lance smiles. “Probably not. I didn’t know you were uncool. It’s interesting. I’m seeing you in a whole new light.”

Shiro rolls his eyes, but reaches over to mess with Lance’s hair, like he would Keith. Unlike Keith, Lance freaks out way harder, screeching something about hard work and artistic expression.

He smiles. “Glad you came to talk to me, kid.”

Lance sticks out his tongue, but he looks pleased, too. “Yeah, yeah.”

#fun fact when my sister was diagnosed w adhd & dyslexia as a child my pjo loving ass was so jealous i actually wanted to kill her #and she knew it too she used to rub it in lmfao. well now who has to ask her older sister to read her engineering textbooks out loud 2 her 😌 #vld #voltron #lance #lance mcclain #shiro #takashi shirogane #shiro & lance #lance & shiro #dork shiro #big brother shiro #understanding shiro #observant shiro #autistic lance #dyslexic lance #insecure lance #brown eyed lance #lance & hunk #broganes #klance #adashi #i’m fibbing a bit but idc #fluff #early s1 #my writing #longpost #fic

[ananaslices]

guys--

i think i have a type??

#the blue goofball who masks his insecurities with a jokester personality #and he struggles to be part of the team #and he is so skilled and talented #and he has conflicts with the leader in red #we love them #they need more love #oh and hes queercoded too #maybe gay #maybe bi #and so many more options #vld #voltron #lance mcclain #vld lance #rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #rise leo #rottmnt leo #rise leonardo

[aro-paladin-pidge]

I feel like most of my problems with the characters of Lance and Hunk is that Lance got a lot of a little, and Hunk got a little of a lot.

#like Lance is a really important character in the early seasons but we learn nothing about h #*him #like he has a fun flirty personality and a dumb rivalry with Keith and then like nothing #he’s homesick in that one season 1 episode and then it’s never mentioned again #he feels like a seventh wheel without a ‘thing’ in Escape From Beta Traz and then it’s solved with 1 shitty compliment #he’s so insecure about his place in Voltron he feels like he should just leave to make it easier for everyone else (will never mention this #big character moment again) #and he feels so expendable he literally DIES and it’s glossed over like wth #and Hunk is just ignored except for like the Season 1/2 Balmera episodes and Omega Shield but we learn so much about him #and he’s just perfect in whatever scene he is #super nice and snarky and snide all at the same time but like tormented by impostor syndrome and anxiety #like there’s SO MUCH there and he just gets nothing #idk if this makes sense but I’m just really upset about it #voltron #lance #Hunk #voltron salt #voltron critical #lance voltron #Hunk Voltron

[somethingsomethingwords]

Hello y'all. Here's another little thing I wrote. This time it's just dialogue, because why not ig. Lance is not kind to himself in this one, but that's what Fernando is there to do. Enjoy 💜.

"You know I like you, right?"

"... What?"

"You know I like you, right?"

"I mean, I surely hope so after what we have done tonight"

"No, what we do is great, but I like you"

"I'm... really not following"

"Lance, you're not just a pretty face or a bed warmer, you are more to me, yes?"

"Oh, I didn't think..."

"Why, because am the bad guy? Just using the innocent boy?"

"Ok, first of all calm down, I'm anything but innocent. Second, I know how I am. I didn't think anyone would like me"

"Lance, what are you saying?"

"I mean, I have Esteban and Mick, and I have friends, but I never thought you would like me"

"Why wouldn't I?"

"Mhhhh, because I'm the spoiler kid who you are literally paid to endure?"

"LANCE, is that how you see me?"

"No, of course no. You are Fernando Alonso, 2 times world champion, hungry and focused and magnificent"

"So, is that how you see yourself?"

"I mean, that's who I am, no?"

"No Lance, not even close. You're wonderful, and full of talent, and kind and brave"

"I don't understand, we are already fucking, so why are you trying to butter me up?

"Cariño, this is not about the bed. This is about who you are"

"Am I not the son of my father? Or the kid who gets what he wants easily? They are right about me, you know it"

"No Lance, they don't know the real you. They don't know that every father would do what Lawrence does, if they could. They don't know how hard you work and how hard you are on yourself. They don't know shit. And if you think they do, you also don't know shit"

"Oh and tell me, oh mighty one, what is it that I don't know?"

"You don't realise how lovely you are, and how easy is to love you"

"If I was, there would be proof. But there is none, so..."

"Just because other people are shitty, doesn't mean it's on you"

"Ever considered I am the shitty one?"

"Never, not for one second"

"Why?"

"Because I see you, even when you hide yourself, when you lose yourself, when you don't know anymore. I'm always there"

"You really are, aren't you? But why?"

"Because I love you"

"Don't play with me, Nando. It's one thing to think I have some redeeming qualities, it's another to lie"

"There is nothing to be redeemed. And am not lying"

"I don't believe you"

"You really mean you can't believe me. But that's ok. I am patient. I can wait for you, and in the meantime show my love for you"

"I don't know if I can..."

"Is ok. We have all the time in the world to figure it out, no?"

"Yeah, I guess so"

-

"You know I like you too, right?"

"Mhhh?"

"The other day? We moved past it, but I wanted you to know that I really really like you"

"Ah, is it so?"

"You don't have to be a dick about it. But yeah, I like spending time with you, I like talking with you, I like sleeping with you. Yeah, both ways, not just sex you asshole"

"Wasn't going to say anything"

"Sure you weren't. Anyway, I just wanted to say it explicitly. I like you"

"You are the sweetest, Lancito. Come here, and show me how much"

"Right now it's close to zero"

"Of course it is. What about now?"

"Co... compelling argument. Tell me more?"

"Claro que si"

-

"So, that was intense"

"Yep"

"...Is it too soon to say I love you"

"Probably, but who cares. Tell me"

"I love you. For a million reasons, but mostly because you are you, and I am who I am"

"M... Would you believe it?"

"What?"

"I love you for the exact same reasons"

#strollonso #fernando alonso #lance stroll #grumpy cat boy x besotted old man #i love insecure but sassy Lance so much #so does nano by the way #they love each other your Honour

[discordiansamba]

I do think the VLD fandom as a whole has a problem with wanting things in the series to stay stagnant. This is why it got so up in arms because characters (checks hand) went through character development. Like they're supposed to do. Which is a good thing. Could that development be clunky at times? Sure. We all know VLD's writing wasn't the best. But a character going through development and reasonably changing as a result of that isn't the character being OOC. They've just grown and changed.

#this was most notable with Keith and Lance #it's actually wild that the fandom was so against Lance growing as a character. I guess bc they were projecting hard on him #bc of his insecurity so when he started to grow past that he was suddenly 'OOC' #no hon. that's called growth. #consequences of letting fanon run rampant in fandom really