#beelsebutt

[luddlestons]

@beelsebutt‘s dnd character Ryul, being adorable and having gay feelings. 

Below is what he’s looking at, ft. Magnus from taz who could inspire that response in most people, I’m sure! 

[sewerpigeonart]

Prompt (For ShattSunday August Challenge: 'Crisp'): There it was, a pair of crisp officer uniforms, waiting in their shared closet. (Post-S7, Matt getting promoted, pls edit the sentence as needed)

this was a quickie for @shattsunday bc we all need some soft moments to help us heal so here (i didn’t stick to the prompt exactly but that’s how it be sometimes):

Matt had woken up early–much earlier than usual.  It had taken him time to readjust to Earth’s day cycle, and even then the chaos around the Garrison was still warping everyone’s sense of time.  Every day entailed a new mission, a new objective, a new collection of planning.  The Galra were still out there.  The war wasn’t over yet.

Careful not to wake Shiro, Matt poured a cup of coffee from the generic carafe in the converted dorm room they’d been sharing.  The promise of another desert sunrise stained the horizon in gentle shades of violet, and Matt sat by the window to watch it, sipping at the coffee he remembered used to suck, but now the bitterness seemed to come from a place of nostalgia rather than burnt beans.

The sound of rustling sheets drew Matt’s gaze over his shoulder to find Shiro stirring awake.  Shiro’s eyes opened against the dim light of dawn, and Matt smiled at him as he sat up in bed.

“Is that the house blend I smell?” Shiro mumbled, voice still thick from sleep.  “Call me crazy, but that actually sounds great right now.”

Matt walked back over to the coffee pot, grabbing a styrofoam cup.  “One cup of Quality Garrison Piss, coming right up.”

The exhaustion of the non-stop week prior still weighed Shiro’s frame, but he took the beverage from Matt with a low chuckle.  “Thanks, Officer.”

Matt scoffed, sitting next to Shiro on the bed, the rising sun warm on their backs.  “Just seems so trivial now, titles and ranks.  We’re all pulling an equal weight here, y’know?”

“I know what you mean,” Shiro said, leaning into Matt.  “I think it was mostly your dad’s way of saying he’s proud of you.”  He tucked his head to kiss Matt’s shoulder, adding in a hush, “I’m proud of you.”

“You’re just saying that because now we have matching outfits,” Matt teased, kissing Shiro’s forehead in turn.

They shared a soft laugh, leaning back in to each other, falling silent because it was hard to articulate the density of all that had been shared between them.  They’d made it through a lot, both together and apart.  The knowledge of that swelled in Matt’s chest every time he looked at Shiro’s face, though the thought of it all no longer overwhelmed him–at least, not in the way it used to.

Matt felt more empowered than anything, free and safe even amidst the entropy because their awareness of the chaos outside their door was the very thing that made it easier for them to make these rationed intimacies count.

With every slow breath, Matt felt Shiro’s frame rise and fall against him, and Matt allowed himself to believe this counted as happiness, even if it was just for now.  The war might not have been over, but in this moment, it could definitely wait.

[enkarg]

So... yeah, in the end I drew another one based on the fic by beelsebutt ‘cause.... I don’t know, I needed... more.

So I guess it’s another @shattsunday contribution ^^U

Thanks, @beelsebutt! I hope this amuses you =)

[legendaryroar]

Prompt: (Shatt) "Yeah, that has to go."

“Yeah, that has to go,” Shiro said, pushing Matt back out of the common area and away towards his room before anyone saw.

Matt laughed. “Spoilsport!”

Shiro grit his teeth, hating how his face was flushing with heat. A t-shirt saying ‘The Black Paladin rides the Black Lion, but I ride the Black Paladin’ was inappropriate on so many levels.

Even if it was true.

“Where did you even get that?” he asked, quickly steering Matt into his room and tugging at the hem of the shirt in question.

Matt let him pull it off, surprisingly docile. Underneath, he was wearing another shirt saying, ‘The Black Paladin can ride me anytime’.

“Matt!”

(AO3 Link)

[sp4c3-0ddity]

i think it's S4E3 "Black Site" where lance is shown playing video games all alone, implying that's what he's been doing a lot. keith is gone (in my hc they've really become bros before keith took of with bom), matt is "replacing" lance in garrison trio and lance feels he's been cast out since matt is older, better looking? and definitely smarter. so, lance misses the meal, and pidge notices. she (please, she and not they but your call!) goes to have a chat with lance. hopefully cuddling ensues.

confession:  i have yet to rewatch season 4 so uh there may be some inaccuracies??

i like to call this headcanon “maybe Lance knows when he’s jealous but he’d never admit it out loud and/or examine its source”

anyway, i tried?? ~2000 words. hope you like it <3

Lance was happy for Pidge.

He was.

But despite his insistence, something didn’t sit quite right with him, an unpleasant heat twisting in his belly; it was a familiar feeling, but it wasn’t one he usually associated with Pidge.

Lance sulked in the dark in his bedroom, the only illumination that of Killbot Phantasm’s title screen, the ‘START’ blinking while it waited for him to play. Usually, Pidge would join him, but usually, Pidge wasn’t preoccupied with her brother, showing him around the Castle and introducing him to the mice and teaching him how to use the training deck and whatever else nerdy rebels caught in space liked doing in their rare downtime.

He toyed with the controller’s joystick, the on-screen cursor switching from option to option; even though Pidge was late - later than usual, really, since she tended to lose track of time - he still hoped that she would sprint into his room, chatting about her latest project while she sat beside him, eager to play the game they bought together.

After another few minutes - or doboshes - Lance entered ‘START’.

Lance liked to think he could read a room better than he could read a book, and in the last few days, every room he stepped into brimmed with excitement as the team planned their next attack per Shiro’s suggestions. And despite the odd atmosphere that had settled in when Keith left - he did not miss Keith, oh no - something of their old energy returned when Pidge brought Matt Holt to the Castle.

Pidge’s cheer was easily explained, that she’d finally finally found the brother for whom she’d searched for over a year, and Shiro reunited with his old crewmate and classmate. Allura and Coran, of course, were eager to exploit his connection to the rebels - though Matt’s obvious attraction to Allura made Lance gnash his teeth in frustration and jealousy - but Hunk?

Hunk seemed to like having someone other than Pidge to tinker and brainstorm the sorts of ideas Lance couldn’t even begin to wrap his head around.

So yes, Lance was jealous; he didn’t even have to deny it, or search his feelings, because jealousy wasn’t so much an emotion to him as an old friend that visited at the worst times. Because Matt Holt was funny, smart, had his friends’ attention, and was actually good-looking.

(Of course he was attractive; he was related to Pidge!)

Hunk, bless his heart, tried to soothe his concerns. “Of course we’re not replacing you, Lance,” he said, rolling his eyes. He patted Lance’s back, reassuring by touch. “We’re just working on something that you’re not interested in.”

“I know, I know,” Lance admitted. He smiled - though it felt more like a grimace - and waved a dismissive hand. “I mean, I could help…?” He trailed off, hopeful as he peered at Hunk.

He raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Really? You want to help with Voltron’s cloaking?”

“Uh, sure?”

“Well, last time you offered to help me and Pidge, you complained of boredom and that we weren’t speaking English and left before we finished.” Hunk crossed his arms. “So forgive me for not taking you up on your offer.”

“All right, fine,” Lance said. “Just know that you’re depriving yourself of my…dexterity.” He held his hands up, stretching his fingers.

“Your jazz hands won’t convince me,” Hunk said, but he smiled and waved on his way out of the lounge to the Green Lion’s hangar, where Pidge - and Matt - would be waiting for him.

Lance groaned and buried his face in his hands, but he looked up when he felt eyes on him. “Well, at least you’ll still keep me company,” he said to Chulatt, who stood upright on the floor a meter away from his feet. “Though I guess…you can’t keep a secret from the princess, can you?” When the mouse nodded a confirmation, Lance sighed and leaned against the back of the sofa. “Is it bad that I miss the way things were before Pidge found her brother?”

Chulatt climbed up his leg, tiny but sharp claws digging into his jeans and scraping his skin, and perched on his knee. It scratched at an ear, silently bidding Lance to continue if he wished.

“I mean, I am happy for her,” Lance insisted, “but I also feel…jealous. Which is weird, right? She’s not my sister, but Matt’s better-looking than–” He squinted at the mouse. “Wait, why would Pidge even care how good-looking her brother is?” He rubbed his face, wondering if he imagined the sudden heat in the room - was someone messing with the thermostat again? He tapped his foot, agitated and confused. “This doesn’t even make sense.”

Chulatt chattered incomprehensibly - unlike Allura, Lance did not speak ‘mouse’, least of all the Altean dialect of it - before jumping off his leg and skittering to the lounge door.

“Really?” Lance said with a raised eyebrow. “Listen to my problems without even offering me some sympathy?” He laughed. “Quiznak, I vent to mice now. Space is weird.” He then stood up, stretching his arms over his head, and walked towards the door.

Pidge herself intercepted him before he made it out. And Pidge…alone, for once.

“Look who showed her face today,” Lance quipped.

Pidge, her attention mostly on the tablet balanced on her arm, glanced up at him, eyes wide and startled. “Uh, hi, Lance,” she said.

“Where’s Matt?” He crossed his arms and appraised her.

Pidge adjusted her glasses, pushing them further up her nose. “In Green’s hangar,” she said. “He and Hunk are still working, but I forgot something in my room.”

“This isn’t your room though,” Lance said, gesturing around the lounge.

Pidge blinked, her eyes slipping past him into the room. “Oh,” she said a little lamely. “Guess I just…wasn’t watching where I was going.”

Lance narrowed his eyes at her, concern for her superseding his irritation at her. “You okay, Pidge?”

“Yeah, fine,” she said, frowning. “I was just deep in thought, that’s all. Not like this hasn’t happened to me before.”

“Oh.”

Before he could say anything else, Pidge turned and left, but she glanced back over her shoulder as the door closed, offering him a smile and a wave.

Lance smiled back, though by then the door separated them, so he knew she wouldn’t see.

He couldn’t really explain why he didn’t go to dinner, instead lying on his bed in the dark and trying to ignore the hungry sounds his stomach made. And if they talked shop during the meal, well, he would be brought up to speed in the morning; it wasn’t like they needed him while everyone else refined their plans.

Lance knew he was sulking again, and all because Matt arrived at the Castle, stealing Pidge’s - and everyone else’s, but mostly Pidge’s - attention off him. He hadn’t been replaced, exactly - he was still a Paladin after all - but it felt pretty close, and the more he thought about it, the worse he felt.

He tapped his fingers against his belly, humming a slow tune - an old lullaby - and closing his eyes. Maybe if he slept early, he could wake up early and hit the training deck before everyone else woke up–

The door slid open without his prompting, the lights flickering on at the motion. Lance shot upright, head spinning with the abruptness, and Pidge faced him from her place in the doorway, a small frown on her face.

“Where were you during dinner?” she demanded. “You’ve never missed a meal before.”

“Pretty sure you have me confused with Hunk,” Lance said, flashing her a smirk that he wasn’t sure he felt.

But Pidge did come looking for him…

“And I’m pretty sure that for you it’s an opportunity to socialize.” Pidge rolled her eyes but approached him without waiting for his permission. “Why’d you miss anyway?”

“Not hungry,” Lance said, shrugging.

When his stomach growled, calling him out on his lie, Pidge raised an eyebrow at him. “Really,” she deadpanned. “I guess that’s the sound of your stomach digesting itself, then.”

“Something like that,” Lance said, patting his abdomen.

“Fine, I don’t know why you were sitting in the dark and sulking, but I’ll let you have this.”

“What?” Lance said, peering at her in surprise, but his suspicions were aroused.

But then she said, “Yeah, I mean, if you want privacy, who am I to deny it to you?” She pressed a hand to her chest and smirked. “It would make me a hypocrite if I pried, wouldn’t it?”

Lance set his feet on the floor and leaned towards her. “You mean you’re not curious?”

“Not at all!” Pidge said. “You’re probably sad that Allura isn’t paying attention to you–”

“No–”

“–or maybe you’re worried about Keith–”

“As if!”

“–or even you’re annoyed that Hunk doesn’t have time for you right now!”

Lance winced, as that hit a little too close to home. But quiznak, he’d never thought Pidge paid him that much attention… “Maybe…a little,” he admitted carefully, rubbing the back of his neck.

Pidge’s amusement dissolved, a frown replacing her smirk as she sat beside him, leaving a good few centimeters between them. “So what’s wrong, sharpshooter?”

“Sharpshooter?” Lance asked, narrowing his eyes at her. “Since when do you call me that?”

Pidge shrugged. “Stop changing the subject,” she said, elbowing him in the side, but Lance thought he caught a hint of a blush on her cheeks.

He smiled at that. “So you do care about me?”

Her eyes widened, and she said, “Of course I do? Why the quiznak wouldn’t I?”

Lance pinched his lips together to keep himself from frowning and confessed, “I just feel like I haven’t been seeing you much lately.”

“Oh.” Pidge stared ahead, at the wall opposite his bed, her hands resting on her knees and knuckles white. “That’s…you know I didn’t do it on purpose, right?”

“I know, I know,” Lance said. He picked at a loose thread on the hem of his shirt. “You just got your brother back, and he, you, and Hunk are setting things up for Voltron’s next plan of attack, but I can’t really help it.”

“I get that,” Pidge said, shooting him a sideways glance. “I…sometimes feel like that too, about…others.”

Lance raised a curious eyebrow at her. “Anyone in particular?”

Pidge rapidly shook her head, and though there was something distinctly dishonest about the gesture, he didn’t question it. Instead, she did something else that shocked him, distracting him from trying to analyze what a simple shake of the head meant other than no.

Pidge hugged him, arms slipping under his and wrapping around him, her grip remarkably strong for her size. He returned her affection without hesitation, kind of enjoying the feeling of her warmth pressed into him, her heart pounding a beat against his side. “I am sorry I made you feel like that, Lance,” she told him, voice quiet. “I know we weren’t good friends at the Garrison, but I promise you mean a lot to me now, and–” She cut herself off with a sarcastic laugh. “Am I making any sense?”

Lance wished he could explain what caused the flutter in his stomach - quite unlike a pang of hunger - and the warmth blooming in his chest. “You’re making perfect sense,” he reassured her, running fingers through her soft hair.

Pidge showed no sign of letting go of him anytime soon, so Lance leaned back until his back hit the wall, with her joining him, one of her arms still slung across his chest with her head on his shoulder. “If you want,” she said, “we can play Killbot tonight? Just the two of us?”

“That sounds great,” Lance said with a smile. He turned his head a bit, bumping his nose to the crown of her head. “But I…kind of want to just sit like this for a little longer, if that’s all right with you.”

“I think that can be arranged,” Pidge said, a teasing quality to her voice.

Lance then wondered why he’d ever had any doubts.

[amegafuru]

Your comic, the one where Shiro sneaks up on Keith, poorly (the AU where Shiro never went to Kerberos) -- Is it okay to print it out and put it on my wall? It makes me smile. Always. And I thought it'd be great to see it every single day and not just when it appears on my dash (which is quite often, actually, and I rb it every. Single. Time.) Also, your art is so wonderful I don't even know how to praise it :3

oh my god you are so sweet ;___; 💕💕 yeah go ahead! 

[fleetofshippyships-archive]

beelsebutt replied to your post “Dammit I liked this fic right up until I ended it. What a shitty...”

trust your instincts, have they failed u yet?

@beelsebutt oh hun, my instincts have failed me time and time again, hence the constant harassment about the endings of my stories. I don’t trust my instincts at all anymore.

that being said, this fic is for your prompt, do you have time to read it? If you like it, I’ll go with it and post it after editing

Your opinion is the only one that matters here =)

[i-write-shakespeare-not-disney]

beelsebutt replied to your post “That episode where Rachel tries writing erotica is such a callout omfg”

heaving beasts ftw

I love you for knowing this omfg