maleprotag
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“Lance.” Keith whispered. “Lance…Who are you?”
“I’m…” Lance laughed nervously once more, his hand still within Keith’s grip. “I’m Lance! Lance Mcclain! I’m in my first year in General Arts and—“
“No, who are you?” Keith tried again, leaning in, watching the blue of Lance’s eyes flicker back and forth from his own. “Why…Why are you here? How are you here?”
“Dude, what?”
“I see colors.” Keith whispered, Lance furrowing his brows. “When I touch you. I see colors.”
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christmas present for tumblr user klancematic ! -
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Keith's been having trouble sleeping lately.
Recent bookmarks
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Gra·da·tion
(Grey-dey-shuh n)
Noun
1. a scale or a series of successive changes, stages, or degrees.
Bookmarked by maleprotag
02 Dec 2017
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Love.
It is your least favorite word. For so long, it has been blood; bitter on your tongue, salt and copper. It fumbles when it falls from your lips, so you keep the word sucked in, keep it folded in the dusted pages of your mind, keep it hidden.
Drabble #1 for Keith's Bday Week: Friends/Family!
Bookmarked by maleprotag
23 Oct 2017
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Your crush asks to watch a movie with you in his dorm, of course you say yes. Keith didn't expect a scary movie, and he's terrified of scary movies. Mutual pining ensues and cuddling.
Series
- Part 10 of Voltron One Shots
Bookmarked by maleprotag
20 Oct 2017
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Keith slumps, and his eyelids flutter as he falls into a cloudy, warm limbo between asleep and awake. Just then, he feels arms wrap around his waist from behind. “Hey there, sleepyhead.” Then there’s a kiss to his temple and Keith smiles, making a contented hum in the back of his throat. He leans back into the gentle embrace, nuzzling soft brown skin, scent of cinnamon peaceful and familiar as it overtakes Keith’s senses.
“Hi.”
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4 different instances of Klance cuddles, each one more tooth-rooting than the last.
Bookmarked by maleprotag
19 Oct 2017
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A terrifying hurricane of emotion swirled in Lance’s chest. He turned over every mistake he’d made in his head, every fragile life in his hands. Each failure was a falling star, bursting, slipping through his fingers.
There were far too many of them. A shot barely a meter off, an uncontrollable swerve from Red, who he was still getting used to piloting, his near inability to ground Keith. If he had done it sooner, if he hadn’t missed that shot, if he hadn’t done this, that, if he hadn’t done anything, if he hadn’t held them all back—
Bookmarked by maleprotag
19 Oct 2017