(this is a side-blog. my main's @roublardise but it's a mess)
All my friends have cool art blog and I wanted one too. I write stuff.
fr/en
support me here: http://ko-fi.com/karten
You can check out my writing on ao3 and with my poetry (bullets in our wombs / untitled Bela/Anael). if you'd like a poem rather than a 1k ficlet that can be arranged, just dm me!
i know i'm barely here anymore so idk if anyone will notice this, but:
my last writing project is done! i introduce: BOYS.
it's a collection of 6 poems about my own experiences & relationships to boys. yes, it is specifically about compulsory heterosexuality
you can read it here! it's really short yet very emotional
tbh it's a first exploration of the topic through a very personnal view; it's about questionning and trying and struggling, but realizing you're not alone nor wrong for feeling this way. and starting to breathe easier. it's dedicated to every lesbian out there who had to learn to not love boys
day 8 & 19 of Keithtober: space and stars & return to Earth
Title: In between streetlights and falling stars
Characters/Pairings: Keith centric. minor Keith/Lance
Rating: K
Words: 2 430+
Chapters: 2/2
Language: English
Keith had always spent a lot of time dreaming of other places, so much it was now an afterthought, the usual routine: the hope and want were well nestled inside his heart, until he moved and was met with the same disappointment. So he didn’t know why he had kept expecting the next time to be different when it was so clear he could have seen it coming.
May it be Earth, or space, both places had hurt him and damaged him in ways he didn’t fully grasped yet. And now that he had seen the whole universe, Keith didn’t know what to think nor what to do; because now he had tried it all, and there was no places left to put his hope into.
day 3 & 4 of Keithtober: childhood memories & in the future
Title: Glimpse of memories
Characters/Pairings: Keith centric. Adam/Shiro; Keith/Lance
Rating: K
Words: 2 750+
Chapters: 2/2
Language: English
chap 1 - childhood memories
Shiro seemed embarrassed, and was sending confused looks at his boyfriend who was barely acknowledging them. Adam kept eating, casually, and he only looked at Keith expectantly when the silence lingered.
“How was your childhood?” Adam had asked.
chap 2 - in the future
Few hours later, Lance jumped on the hoverbike with his own bag and wrapped his arm around Keith’s waist. He was grinning since he had caught Keith's eyes from inside, and Keith was pretty excited, too.
I've been off tumblr for a while bc of Stuff, but I'll be back slowly with a few prompts for Keithtober! (as well as posting links for what I wrote during my hiatus) stay tuned đź‘€
in which Keith got his periods so they all declared it's a break day. Emotional conversations & stories ensue because what kind of sleepover would it be if it didn't?
Title: 7am sleepover
Characters: all of Voltron; lowkey Klance; Shiro & Lance
Rating: K
Words:Â 2 570+
Language: English
“What’s happening?”
“Ugh, period day.”
“Oh, sure. What did you guys set up?”
“Mostly blankets and warm plushies. Hunk and Coran are trying to make some kind of tea, Allura’s making a show with the mice, Keith is dying, and Lance and I were thinking of joining this 7am sleepover. You in?”
“Of course.”
in which Keith got his periods so they all declared it's a break day. Emotional conversations & stories ensue because what kind of sleepover would it be if it didn't?
Notes: they’re all trans! cw: mention of periods, mention of transphobia, mention of PTSD
I wrote this for the one and only @the-space-enby 💕
1 110+ words, autistic!Keith, autistic!Pidge, minor Klance, modern setting AU, Friendship/Hurt/Comfort (mostly just Pidge and Keith being autistic bff)
keith: hmm don't text me anymore, i'm back on computer
pidge: ??
keith: can you come? it's uhhhh a kind of emergency
pidge: i'll be in pjs
Pidge put a sweat on for comfort and immediatly left her room to reach Keith's, just a floor above. “A kind of emergency” was a shaky explaination which usually wouldn't make Pidge move. Especially not when she was low on spoons, when it was 10pm, and when her homework for the next day was still waiting for her to write it. Yet, it was Keith, and curiosity was enough to tip the scale in her decision making.
As soon as the door opened, she was welcomed by grunts and a Keith who was sharply chewing on his necklace.
“Okaaay. What's happening?”
Keith stared at the ground, walking in circles in his room for a few more seconds, then sit against his bed and forced himself to breath deeply. Unperturbed, Pidge boiled water and patiently waited for an answer.
“So. Hm” started Keith while Pidge took mugs out. “I don't know if you replied to my last texts, but as I was saying: I was gonna ask Lance to hang out.”
“Yep” replied Pidge softly. “I was telling you it was cool, and I was asking how you wrote it.”
“Well I wanted to go with what you suggested the other day. But I prefered sending something more chill first? To, I don't know, to not get into it right away? Neurotypicals do that apparently?”
Pidge nodded while the water flowed on the teabags. Once it was done, she put the two filled mugs down and sat in front of Keith, waiting for him to continue – there had to be more to this story; he was fidgeting with his jacket's zip again.
“So I did that.”
Or maybe it was all.
“Cool! Now you can wait for him to reply.”
“He replied, I heard the notification.”
“And you replied back..?”
Keith silently took his mug. He allowed himself two sips before coming back to what Pidge just said.
“Well... no.”
“Keith! You can do it! You want me to type the text for you?”
“No, thanks, it's just... I can't.”
“Duuuude. I get the communication difficulties, but you're so close now!”
Keith was still hiding in his tea, and Pidge almost regretted giving him this opportunity. It was a conversation they had plenty of times – too many times – but something seemed off. Usually, when he needed confort, Keith said it right away – or at least he said it differently. It wasn't what he was looking for here. A bit of pressure, maybe?
“It's gonna become weird if you make him wait too long. He could go to sleep and then it's just gonna be worst.”
“I know, but, uuuugh.”
“Seriously, moreover there's no way he would say no!”
Keith got back to his cup of tea, even more directly: he didn't take his eyes off it. And Pidge knew he wouldn't say more anytime soon. Keith struggled with communication, and even more when it came to communicating with Lance. But when Pidge had gotten his first text at the beginning of the evening, she had thought he was determined. She had even told herself it was it, it was for tonight, once and for all. Though, clearly, something else happened.
Keith had slipped away several times already – was it about Lance or not – and Pidge often came over. Sometimes they only talked about something else, sometimes Pidge helped him to formulate his texts, once Pidge even called for him – it had been hell, but they hadn't had the choice. They had their routine: she made tea, he brought blankets, they sat at ground level and took the time to analyse the situation. It was as if time stopped, as if reality granted them the break they needed. Everything was always happening from everywhere. And when they couldn't handle it no more, they bit into their necklaces more strongly, they pushed frenetically on their fidget cubes, they spinned their rings until the pattern was unrecognizable. And when everything was going too vast, sometimes their voices closed. It often happenned to Keith. So Pidge was waiting, warming her hands against her cup, for Keith's voice to open again.
Pidge felt him tensed up before she noticed; he frowned and his fingers tapped the ground – he was fed up. She moved closer and held out her hand, asking in a whisper: “Is that okay?” Keith nodded. Then she laid her arm on his shoulder, her hand falling right on his head, and she softly started to stroke his hair. Her fingers focused on a cycle of simple and repetitive moves which will, she hoped, help to chase down the chaos inside Keith. Pidge didn't know how much time passed by, but there wasn't much tea left when two little words shattered the silence.
“I can't.”
“What's in the way, Keith?” Pidge tried to keep her voice gentle and neutral – they weren't in a hurry. “You don't find the words? His answer is rude? Or.. I don't know, I'm out of ideas.”
Keith leaned against Pidge. He closed his eyes and focused on the fingers in his hair. It was simple, he was safe.
“I panicked and threw my phone out of the window.”
“Dude, you know I love you, but sometimes you wore me out.”
Keith growled against her shoulder.
“It's true! Anyway, more seriously. You're on the second floor. Your window overlooks the parking lot-”
“Whatever it's destroyed.”
“You checked?”
“No! I can't. But it's dead anyway. I had two thousand pictures and Lance's number and it's des-troyed, just because I can't handle feelings.”
Keith zipped his jacket up and hide in his collar. He peeled away from Pidge and – she was sure of it – was going to curled up. She stopped his movement.
“Eh eh eh, come here.”
Keith turned his head. He might had his voice back, but his face still looked sad – too sad. Pidge took him in her arms. Pidge wasn't good either to put words on what she wanted to say. The thoughts were there, but nothing was taking shape. Silence spoke well for us, anyway. It had always been like that. A few words dropped here and there was enough to make the other understand what they meant – it only worked between them, though. But Pidge couldn't picture herself trying on some “it's okay”, “feelings are hard”, “we will get through this”, because those words didn't mean enough right now. Sometimes it was better to not say anything, to let the silence wrap yourselves, and to hold each others tight while the time stopped. And afterwards, when they could deal with the chaos again, they will face the issue.
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I’m working on the next chapter of my long fic (Je ne suis pas amoureux) and I finally got to write THIS scene, which was on my mind since forever is2g.
My fic is only in French (for now lol. I plan to translate it but first I need to finish it) but this Vichris shenanigans is good I wanted to share with yall.Â
Without wondering whether he may be bothering, Victor sit down next to Chris and as a greeting said: ”Your tshirt is ugly.”
Chris looked at his tshirt, having no issue with the basic white, and feeling a bit insulted because he loved the pink, purple and blue letters writing “bi-atch” on the front.
”The pun only works in french, you do know that?” continued Victor.
”You’re the one who gave me this shirt.”
“I didn’t think you would actually wear it.”
There was a smile in the corner of Victor’s eyes and a playful urging in his words which told Chris -if he was doubtful- that Victor was messing with him. Chris took the challenge.
“Excuse me, fashionista, I’m taking it off then.”
His arms were already crossed and his hands around the edge of his tshirt when a sighed “what?” slipped away from Victor’s lips. From the corner of his eyes, Chris recognized the exact moment when Victor understood what he was going to do, and the certainty that Chris will not stop midway. Once his tshirt was laying on the floor, Chris faced a Victor who wasn’t trying to hide his smile anymore.
I guess I could say
'thank you
for the experience
from which I survived
stronger'
but if I'm honest
all you did was
being an asshole
which wasn't hard for you
and if I'm honest
I crawled out of this shit
with cracks all over my heart
and a malfunctioning brain
I guess I would say
'fuck you
for the punches & the stabs & the cuts
from which I almost died
unhappy'
