Remembered some art I was working on a while back with @loadingboy for his fic Grin and Bear It 😭
So, here's a rec for those of you that enjoy some established relationship -> brainwashing angst
$LAYYYTER
Three Goblin Art
todays bird
almost home
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titsay

izzy's playlists!
Mike Driver

Andulka

tannertan36
Sade Olutola

Product Placement

Kiana Khansmith

Kaledo Art
Claire Keane

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
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DEAR READER
Cosimo Galluzzi

Discoholic 🪩
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@jiveyuncle
Remembered some art I was working on a while back with @loadingboy for his fic Grin and Bear It 😭
So, here's a rec for those of you that enjoy some established relationship -> brainwashing angst
I had a Max Ride dream over the weekend out of nowhere. What if I drew my middle school blorbos, guys? What then?
Reblogs in a chain now get their own notes
The reblog chain is one of the things that makes Tumblr unlike anywhere else. All the notes on reblogs are attributed to the original post, no matter which branch people actually liked or reblogged. We want to keep encouraging conversations, and give contributors the recognition they deserve.
Soon, you'll be able to like, reblog, or reply to any part of a reblog chain, and that note will go to that reblog's author. Each reblog will have its own counts, instead of one aggregated number from every version of the post. And yes, you’ll be able to like multiple posts in one chain.
If a reblog doesn't add anything, the love flows up to the last person in the chain who did. Your post doesn't lose notes just because people spread it quietly.
Past notes will stay on the original post — we're only changing what happens from here on out. Retroactively re-attributing all of them would be... a lot.
This is just the beginning. More changes are coming as we keep building this out – stay tuned!
It’s very clear that you all have strong feelings about Tumblr and about this change. We hear you. The passion people have for how Tumblr works is one of the things that makes this place special.
As this rolls out over the next few days and you explore it, we’ll keep reading your replies and reblogs, so please keep sharing your questions, concerns, and ideas.
Your creativity has always been the heart of Tumblr, whether you’re the original poster or adding something brilliant in the reblogs, and nothing about this change is meant to limit that.
If you’d like to talk directly beyond the comments, leave a reply and we’ll follow up with as many of you as we can. We want to work with you to make Tumblr better.
Just a heads up that my time between posts may stretch even longer for a while. I'm pregnant (very excited for baby #2! Yayy!!!). The first trimester was hell last time, though, so I'm just preparing to be down for the count for a while. Hopefully, I'll be through the worst of it and have a bit more time for creating over the summer, but idk. In the meantime, I'll be sleeping as much as possible bc insomnia, work, pregnancy exhaustion, and keeping up with a toddler has me running on fumes these days lol! I do plan to continue both Voltron fics, just slowly whenever I have the energy left over to give it proper effort <3
Anyway, thank you guys for all your support over the years. I'll be popping up in the comments of fics, but otherwise, I'll see you around here whenever I happen to see you :)
I’m insane about this clone Keith fic btw. Have some doodles of random moments from it
And go enjoy some fucked up klance and Keith whump if that’s your kinda thing
and loyalty is a nuisance child by laferte
Summary:
Keith returns early from a Blade of Marmora mission after sustaining an injury. He arrives back at the Castle of Lions to find that he's already there.
Two Keiths, no answers, and a team of paladins not sure who to believe.
Whenever someone quotes your own fic back at you!? Ahh!?
You like that line!? That line hit like I wanted it to!? You noticed that thing that I didn't think anyone else would?
Wowie, imma go write more now! I’ll be riding this high for the rest of my life thank you very much
many such cases
"Anyway, I made another drawing. Hope y'all like it."
*holds up the 10,000th picture of Keith*
Guys, they’ve both already been making moves, they’re just weird
Some Rebel Rolo and Blade Keith saving each other’s asses ✨
Top: Keith can’t breathe the atmosphere on that particular planet and his mask broke. Rolo’s trying to get a good enough seal around his nose and mouth to get him enough oxygen until their ship arrives.
Bottom: Rolo’s prosthetic was severely damaged and caught in rubble. Keith refused to leave him behind, and cut him free.
On the break between 5th and 6th grade, Lance’s mother was called only three days into summer camp due to the “worst case of homesickness” his camp counselor had ever seen.
Lance had waited, curled up on a bench by the entrance, worried she’d be disappointed in him. But when his mamá arrived at the gate, she greeted him the same way she always did.
She stepped out of her car and opened her arms.
The emotions broke free of Lance, escaping him in torrents over his cheeks. He tackled her in a hug, and in turn she just pet his hair, rocked him side to side for a bit, and peppered his head with kisses.
When she finally pulled him back to dry his tears, she told him then that he felt things so intensely because he was a lover. He loved so deeply, and she thought he might just miss things more because of it. That it was nothing to be ashamed of, but that there were still more things out in the world to love. She said she’d always be there to take him home if he wasn’t ready.
When Lance left for the Garrison, he was determined to finally be ready. He was ready. He loved the stars, the endless expanse of universe hanging in the sky waiting for him. Even still, every morning he had to fight the urge to call home, knowing that if he did, all it would take was the sound of his mamá’s voice and the shrieks of his niece and nephew playing in the background and he’d be packing his bags and catching the next flight back before PT roll call.
He regrets not calling that last morning in the Arizona desert.
He is ashamed that some days he considers giving up on this whole Voltron thing and asking Allura to turn the ship around just to drop him back off at his little home in Cuba. It’s one thing to want something deep in his bones, it’s another thing to admit it out loud. If Red had warping capabilities and he didn't have to face his friends' disappointment in the decision, he wonders if he’d fly himself back.
Glory isn’t worth the churning longing in his gut that turns all the food left in his belly sour at night - or at least, the ship's simulated version of night.
He misses night - the cycle of a regular rise and fall of heavenly bodies in colorful skies. He misses the feel of Earth's sun on his face, ocean wind whipping the fringe up away from his forehead.
He misses home.
He misses his family and the noise of a full house - the constant clamor of people milling about, waking at different times to complete chores and run errands.
That's what probably hits him the hardest out in space, reminding him of their absence - the oppressive silence that fills the empty walls of the castleship along with all the lightyears of empty, horrible, silent nothing between stars. It takes over all of his senses - tangible in ways he never knew silence could be. It pulls at his limbs and weighs them down. It hangs in the air and chills his bones. It's thick and cold and heavy. When he breathes, it fills his lungs, and he drowns.
Lance would sometimes pick fights just to be rid of it. He'd incite a challenge, get the energy going, and goad someone else into competition just to fill the air with some noise. And in the times where no one felt like talking, he found himself simply existing around his friends as they busied themselves with their preferred activities.
The clacking of Pidge’s keyboard helped him drift off to sleep when the blue glow of his room seemed to seep into his eyelids and project moments of battle he'd rather never see again in crystal clear rerun after rerun.
Hunk's whisking and chopping numbed the hollow ache in his soul, allowing the stiff muscles in his shoulders to relax as the familiar sounds of a kitchen in use blanketed him.
Keith was a blessing in this way, too - always the loudest. It may have been what first drew Lance into his space despite their rocky start. The thuds of boots around the arena floor, clangs and clashes of armor and weapons, grunts and swears of exertion all coalesced to make the training deck one constant stream of glorious noise. Lance bathed in it. Absorbed it. He found himself leaning into it, following the clamor as a flower bloom chases the sun.
So, when Lance, still half-asleep, ambled into the training arena the morning after Keith’s death in search of the comforting din, the resounding silence that echoed back at him was deafening.
He’d missed Keith.
But the difference between missing Keith and missing home, was that he still had hope of seeing home again someday. The dead, on the other hand, could only be remembered.
The silence was too heavy to bear, and Lance's knees buckled under the weight of it.
That was three weeks ago - two weeks before Lance discovered Keith’s transparent ghostly consciousness hanging out with the red lion’s. Now, Keith’s muttering over Lance’s shoulder and backseat piloting is driving him nuts. Silence would be a blessing. He wishes Keith would shut up. He tells him so.
“You’re flying her like you’d fly Blue!” Keith accuses anyway.
These losers still own my soul
OC art dump
This story was a delight ❤️ Thank you for sharing it! Here’s some fanart we made of it!
by @jiveyuncle
by @occasionalklance
moderation by Katranga
(21k words)
Summary:
Keith gets bits by a love bug and falls for Lance. Allura gets bit and falls for Hunk. The only problem is that Keith already has a real, overwhelming crush on Lance, so he decides to only do what Allura does so he doesn't give himself away. A plan that rapidly falls apart.
--
Lance stared at him expectantly.
Keith raised his brows at him. “And this… is why… we wear helmets! You reckless, stupid-stupidly hot, annoyingly charming—”
“Watch out, guys,” Pidge cut in. “I think Keith’s gonna self-combust trying to compliment Lance and drag him at the same time.”
Lance shoved Keith’s helmet into his chest. “Seriously? Acting like you’re dying, making me feel guilty about taking your helmet off, and you just didn’t wanna say anything nice to me? You’re a dick.”
@katranga
Adored this very much! Thank you for writing and sharing this story ❤️ Here’s some fanart of it!
by @jiveyuncle
My Soul Has Your Claim, My Soul Is In Flames by queen-of-voltronian (TellyMauve)
(146k words)
Summary:
Does anyone know Lance is in love with Keith?
Of course not. And Lance would very much like to keep it that way, thank you! Keith already doesn't want anything to do with him ever since coming back from that space whale; the last thing Lance needs on top of his crumbling self-worth and shaky standing in the team is a rejection that shatters his heart in pieces, too.
But now, Lance got himself in a bit of a pickle. Which is fine, because Lance has a plan to get out of it! A wonderful, brilliant, masterful, completely fool-proof plan. His team won't look at him like he's more incompetent than they already do, he won't have to spend the rest of his life trapped on some alien planet, and Keith will never find out just how head over heels he is for him. It's a win-win-win situation.
Of course, with Keith, things are never quite so simple, and Lance's plan soon causes a domino effect that changes the entire course of his life.
Or:
Maybe Lance should have been a little more specific when he said he'd do anything to get home. Because now...
"You must bestow a kiss on the one your soul most desires."
...Fuck.
@queen-of-voltronian
When Lance wanders away from the group after wrapping up their latest supply run at a swap moon, Keith anticipates finding him holed up in a shop with a bag full of tiny trinkets to add to his already overflowing collection back in his room.
“For Nadia,” he'd say, or “Marco will lose his mind over this,” or “When I told Mamá I’d make it to space one day, she told me to bring home proof when I met an alien up here. Think this is alien enough?” And he'd grin and hold up some bizarre bobble that Keith couldn't even begin to discern the purpose of.
Lance has run out of space on top of his dresser and night stand for the things he's collected. There's a box under his bathroom sink that he's started storing them in, now.
They've been in space for a while.
This time, though, when Keith finds Lance, it's at a storefront he normally wouldn't have bothered peeking into. It's only because Keith's body responds to the sound of his voice before his brain can catch up to where he's at that he finds him.
“Will it hurt?” Lance's voice is guarded, nervous.
“That depends,” a gruff voice responds. “I ain't familiar with your species an’ how thick of a pelt ya got on your bones. Here's the tool I use.”
A loud clang.
“Quiznaking Christ…”
Keith pushes past red, flowing drapes into what he can only describe as a tattoo parlor. Artworks with swirling designs adorn the walls - some framed, and some just stuck haphazardly with adhesives, overlapping and collaged together to cover every bit of flat surface.
Lance is leaned over a contraption on a counter that looks closer to a war hammer straight out of a fantasy film than a tattoo gun. A hulking, tatted up blue alien that stands at least two heads taller than Lance with hands the size of cooked turkeys leans back and crosses his arms. “For the size you're askin’, I'm guessin’ ‘bout 5 vargas under this thing.” He nods at the hammer-gun. “Maybe 4 and a half if ya don't squirm.”
Lance's shoulders are slowly raising to his ears, tension winding the muscles tight. “Can I have a dobosh to think on it?” he half wheezes, half squeaks.
The alien shrugs, grabs the contraption, and ducks through a beaded curtain into a back room. “Jus’ holler if you're interested.”
Lance releases a shaky breath and reaches for a binder with foreign script on it. When he flips it open, a rotating holographic projection displays a muscular arm with a tattoo of an unfamiliar, spiky alien animal climbing up it. Lance swipes at it, and a new body part with a more geometric inked pattern flickers to take the previous tattoo's place.
“Didn't take you to be one for tattoos,” Keith says, leaning onto the counter.
Lance jumps, and his head snaps sideways to take Keith in. His temporary shock quickly fades away to be replaced by a wry smile as he returns to swiping through the artist's portfolio. “Yeah, well. Me neither.” He leaves it at that, and the way he says it doesn't settle right in Keith's chest.
Keith squints, trying to discern what is off about the response, then turns away to look over the art on the walls. “What gave you the itch?”
He can see Lance pause his swiping in his periphery. A beat. Two. “I'm tired of seeing my back in the bathroom mirror.”
Keith scrunches his brow in confusion, and faces Lance, again. “Your back?”
Lance huffs a deprecating laugh. “Yeah. I don't know if you've noticed, but it’s not pretty back there. It's definitely gonna be a turn off for future Mrs. Blue Lion.” While he talks, his hand wanders up and over to knead behind his shoulder. “I know they say scars are sexy and all, but this one really, really isn't. Gonna get it covered.”
Keith presses his lips together, unsure what to say. He feels wholly unprepared to tackle this conversation. Really, before this moment, he hadn't even considered that Lance would be bothered by the scar beyond the physical discomfort. Despite how powerful the healing pods were, they still left scars if there was any kind of delay getting into one. The whole team is scarred up at this point. Blades, burns, shrapnel - scars are just a part of their appearance, now. He doesn't think any less of his friends because of them, and he's pretty sure they don't think any less of Keith, either. But if Lance was worried about what people outside of their team would think, then he has no idea how to fix that. Even picturing a post-war universe to worry about feels like a fantasy.
Lance must take his hesitation to be disapproval, because his posture starts to take on a defensive stance. “Hunk's already given me the whole speech on how it's a symbol that I'm selfless and a hero or whatever. But if I'm being blunt? I hate the way it looks. It's gross. And I know you're probably going to tell me not to-”
“I'm not going to tell you what to do with your body, Lance,” Keith dismisses.
“I know you probably have an opinion!”
“Not really. And even if I did, it doesn't matter. Isn't that what you're trying to tell me, anyway?”
Lance clenches his jaw and glares at the surface of the countertop. His fingers tighten around the edges of the portfolio. “I just- I feel- I don't know! Everything is bigger than me! This war! Being a paladin! Entire planets of people suffering! But I still worry about missing Rachel's birthday next week, or if my abuela's still hanging on, or what I look like, and it just feels like I'm not allowed to feel those things because what are all my worries in the face of literal genocide and fuck-” He sucks in a few quick breaths that have Keith stepping closer. “I'm losing myself. I don't have a choice in anything happening to me, and here I am worried about whether a girlfriend I don't even have yet will find me attractive when it's all over.” He finally releases the portfolio to press the heels of his palms into his eyes. “I don't even know why I'm explaining myself to you. You're all about pursuing the greater good over personal shit.”
Keith feels the words like a kick to the gut. Maybe he had acted that way near the start of their journey, but it's only because he hadn't had any personal shit left to lose.
Keith is selfish when it comes to the things he cares about. He regrets having ever said the things he did to Pidge back on Arus. He looks back and winces at the time he suggested they leave Allura when she'd been captured - largely because he cares so much for them, now. He'd sooner let the Galra hold an entire planet hostage than hand over any one of his friends.
He's not noble. He never has been. He just hadn't had anything besides Shiro that he was scared of losing.
He does, now.
Keith reaches out to gently tug one of Lance's hands away from his face, and the other naturally follows. He doesn't know how to put words to any of what's rushing through his head, and what comes out is, “I turned my back on Shiro to find out who I was at the Blade base.”
Lance frowns deeper, not following.
Keith releases Lance and shakes his head, trying to explain. “I had to choose between learning about my heritage and what I thought Shiro wanted.” His hand grazes his mother's blade at the small of his back for reassurance. “I put myself first. I think, sometimes, we have to.”
It seems to quell some part of Lance that had been kicked into fight or flight, and he visibly releases a breath. He nods. “Yeah. Okay. Alright.” He glances to the beaded curtain where the artist disappeared into and swallows. Hard.
“You can come back to the castle.” Keith suggests, and when Lance starts to take on a betrayed look, he rushes to add, “You can still cover the scar, but you obviously don't like your option here.”
“I never said-”
“I can draw on it.” Keith pulls a marker from one of his belt pouches and holds it up between them.
“Is that a fucking Sharpie!? Have you had that on you this entire time!?”
The sound of Lance's surprised laughter fills the space around them, and it's music to Keith's ears.
II of Swords
Upright: difficult choices, indecision, stalemate
Reversed: lesser of two evils, no right choice, confusion
The Hanged Man
Upright: sacrifice, release, martyrdom
Reversed: stalling, needless sacrifice, fear of sacrifice
VIII of Wands
Upright: rapid action, movement, quick decisions
Reversed: panic, waiting, slowdown
IX of Swords
Upright: anxiety, hopelessness, trauma
Reversed: hope, reaching out, despair
*card meaning reference*
I think it'd be really cool if you picked a card that inspires you, used it as a prompt to draw your own design, and added it on to whatever card has most recently been shared in a reblog. You don’t have to take any of the card’s names literal when drawing, just go with what you think represents the card’s message! Maybe we can get a chain going of kickass tarot themed fanart 💕
He is the sun,
and I an endless night.
We cannot occupy the same space
for, at the time one exists,
the other cannot.
No, that heavenly body is beyond my touch,
but at dawn and dusk
there is a brief mixing of color
at the fringes where we nearly brush -
and then the other is leaving.
Or perhaps they are chasing.
Maybe,
there is no difference between those things at all.
Ah, what is the sun but a star, my love?
Let us leave this atmosphere
and reside in space,
where the black can wrap the sun in its embrace,
and the sun can warm all that the dark carries.
And let their closeness
make the sky all the more lovely for it.
Thank you for the wonderful read. Here's some fanart that we made of your story <3
by @caspergrasper / itsnickyricky
by @bluebunnygalart
by @occasionalklance
by @jiveyuncle
smokey the bear can't stop us now by k8__a
(59k words)
Summary:
After working too long in a soul-crushing corporate job, Keith finally caves to Pidge's insistence on working with them out in the middle of the Great Smoky Mountains. Keith, desperate to regain his artistic inspiration, packs up all his stuff and moves out to a desolate, phone connection-less summer in the mountains with his best friend. Along the way, he stumbles across a mystery that has him hiking all over the forest. The only catch? Pidge didn't mention that he'd be living a twenty mile hike away from them, in a cabin with another ranger - Lance, with the Earth-shattering smile, with the dozens of individually named plants in his garden, with the mediocre cooking abilities, and the magical skills on his guitar. So maybe Keith will rediscover his ability to paint, or maybe Lance will fry all of his nerve-endings before he's able to. Who knows?
Alternate description: A brief obsession with Firewatch and a few too many google searches got me really invested in the Smoky Mountains, and here we are.