#my!fic

[graphicabyss]

If anyone wants to check out my Hudcon fics, they're all here. Adding more romance into the horny:

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

[solomonhimself]

hey if anyone wants to beta my boarding school nursey-focused AU let me know!!! (i actually went to a boarding school, though a different one) it’s gonna be long (maybe) and go through his whole high school career and it should be fun!!! i’m about to post an excerpt

[graphicabyss]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

I've gotten so sentimental because of them.

[superdraconic]

i had a dream of finishing this fic before s6 dropped but i never did, so here’s the outline and the first scene of the rough draft. i doubt i’ll get the drive to finish it because s6 happened so much, but it was a good idea worth keeping.

sheith, explicit, wip, post s5, pre s6. matt tells keith what he found in that prison. it doesn’t change how keith feels.

OUTLINE

(keith pov) matt messages keith. scene cut before message is said. “shiro is a sleeper agent”

___

(shiro pov for the rest)

keith arrives back at castle of lions. wary around the rest of the paladins.

seen with matt, discussing what should happen. shiro never catches what they’re talking about. a little jealous but very focused on the mission.

shiro is tired, working through treaties, trying to integrate the galra with the vision of intergalactic peace while quelling rebel galra and infighting between other aliens + galra. keith keeps to the fringes but shiro is aware of him, tries to respect the distance between them, but they haven’t broken up- least not to shiro’s knowledge. keith continues to awkwardly hover

as soon as shiro brings up matt/keith and how he’s just wants to clarify if they’re still together, keith immediately reassures, begins making an effort to be more affectionate. other paladins react. shiro gets the impression keith was trying to puzzle out how to ask the same question.

catches keith with the black lion. bond still strong. shiro wonders if keith has accepted that he IS shiro’s chosen successor. (its for keith/matts continuity plan if shiro goes darkside)

CLIMAX > shiro overhears terse keith and matt quietly whisper warring about something to do with haggar and project kuron. when shiro’s name comes up, shiro- sick with the feeling of being left out of yet another keith/matt conversation- curtly cuts into the conversation. keith looks strained, matt quickly excuses himself.

shiro begins to reassure keith. keith’s underlying tone, altho affectionate and tender, is sad. he derails the conversation, pressing shiro into some corner of the castle.

----

emotional sex, keith quietly reassuring shiro ‘youre a GOOD person shiro’ and reminds him ‘as many times as it takes’

ACTUAL FIC

Keith expects Allura- the team- and yearns to see Shiro’s face without the rest visible just at his shoulder. Even though there is an “ex” firmly affixed to his role as Paladin, the Team liked to send him updates. Typically, the less dire messages were sent through to a Marmora outpost, where Keith accepted them side by side with Kolivan.

There are two- maybe three- people aboard the Castle of Lions with the ability to locate Keith’s specific vessel without a specific frequency. And that’s enough to convince Keith this wouldn’t be one of those “less dire” messages he’d been hoping for.

It’s Matt’s face flickering into focus on his holoscreen. Keith would never assume to make much headway toward a friendship with Matt, back before. They were polite acquaintances, a little bemused by the variety of people caught in the orbit of one Takashi Shirogane. Even if they weren’t friends, they were friendly. Keith picked up on Matt’s cheery extroversion, letting Matt fill the empty air that so often hung around him. It’d been novel. A relief.

The Matt onscreen looks decidedly grim.

Keith shores up his mental armor to brace, mouth pressed in a tight line. Shiro, the Team, the Lions, the Blades, his mind skips down his growing list of priorities, privately fretting. He readjusts his grip on his ship’s controls, letting the feel of the throttle steady him. Familiar.

“Keith,” Matt says. Already, Keith doesn’t like the pity softening Matt’s solemn expression. He watches Matt’s eyebrows tic up, just a fraction. “This is going to be hard to hear. I don’t know how to say it.”

Eventually, Matt did. And his prediction was true. Keith’s shoulders hunched with tension, jaw aching. Wild eyed. A hundred days blurred and refocused in an entire new lens, the cold realization dropping into the pit of his stomach. Matt’s voice drifts off into white fuzz, while Keith’s throat clicks around a block in his throat.

It lasts an age, or a second.

Then clarity reasserts itself with dizzying brutality, and Keith breathlessly hears Matt say, “I’m sorry Keith. We’ll make it right, you and me. Promise.” It’s a generous offer, considering all the other roles Matt has assumed with the Voltron Coalition. Keith can’t quite wrap his head around all the implications of “you and me”, or “make it right”. He’s never felt so wrong. His heart squeezes painfully beneath his ribs, with uncanny timing, sick and weighty.

He doesn’t say anything. Or if he does, Keith doesn’t remember it. But Matt’s cutting the connection, and then Keith sends an encrypted update to Kolivan and readjusts course. It’s him, alone in the cockpit, as Blades were sometimes wont want to be, mindlessly checking readings and gazing into the yawning nothingness between stars.

_________

“Keith.”

Pidge and Hunk shift,

[solomonhimself]

boarding school! AU y’all

Derek’s late for check-in three times his first week.The first time, he at least has the excuse of ignorance--they haven’t gone over any of the rules yet, and he somehow managed to miss the neon yellow signs taped to all the doors in the dorm about the mandatory meeting in the common room at 9:30. He’s kissing his moms goodbye before their long drive to the city when an impressively-moustached white guy throws open the front door and yells into the balmy evening air.

“Derek! Derek Nurse! Do not go gentle into that good night! It’s check-in! You’re late!” Derek throws a hand up to acknowledge the guy and wraps his moms up in a bear hug. He just hit his first (though probably not final) growth spurt a few months ago, and it’s still kind of weird being taller than both of his moms.

“Rage, rage against the dying light,” his mom Juliette giggles. Samirah, his mum, winks as she gently pushes him toward the dorm. As he jogs to the door, Samirah calls, “Don’t forget to skype your dad later, honey. We love you!”

“So, Derek right? We’re late for the meeting, we’d better hustle. Dr. Reamer’s really, really into punctuality,” the bro-ey white guy says.  As they jog down the stairs and into the basement common room, a few of his dormmates clap sarcastically. Thank whoever that I don’t show a blush, Derek thinks. He manages to drop smoothly into a cross-legged seat next to one of the awful-smelling couches and makes eye contact with Dr. Reamer, refuses to drop his chin or his gaze even as Reamer sizes him up. He looks like the kind of old white guy who finds great pleasure in making students feel small, with a piggish nose and a sparse, greying beard that makes him look like his chin is molding.

[stacylk]

Her eyes flit to my hand before returning to my face. “The way you and I have always just been friends?” she asks as I step forward closing the space between us.

My senses are flooded by the earthy scent of the woods and the warmth that escapes from the thin material of her nightgown. “No,” I tell her.

Maisie looks at me intently. “What do you want, James? Really?” she pleads.

I  place both of my hands at each side of her face, framing it. “I know what I don’t want,” I tell her before tangling a few of my fingers in her dark hair. “I don’t want to waste one more second, one more breath without you knowing that everything I am is connected through you. I find my purpose in your eyes, my strength in your touch,” I confess as she studies me closely. I await every excruciating second for her reply.

She searches my face once more before speaking. “Do other girls fall for such corny lines?” she whispers.

Stubborn Love UPDATE Ch8

Glorious Banner by the amazing @akai-echo

[superdraconic]

its the year of our lord 2016 and i’ve decided at 1am on wednesday to write yj fic

Mid July wasn’t ideal for anyone. Mostly for anyone who wasn’t Kaldur, M’gann, or Conner. Those three liked to make their own fun, flitting off to Atlantis, where it was nice and cool and free of embarrassing sunglasses tans. Dick reflects long and hard that life was not fair. His physiology was, regrettably, not meant for the glimmering utopia of Atlantis. But then again, neither was-

“I’m two degrees from a meltdown,” Artemis declared, stalking out of the side passages into the living area. The Cave usually boasted a liveable 74°F no matter what conditions were like outside, since it was, y’know, in a hollowed mountain owned by the Justice League, but recently someone, no naming names, had broken the climate control unit. In completely unrelated news, Wally was hereby shunned from all holo-hockey tournaments forthwith. He got off easy, to be honest. Dick would’ve revoked his snack privileges on movie night.

“The nuclear kind,” Artemis clarified, taking the stool next to his. Out of his peripherals, Dick could tell she was side-eyeing him pretty hard.

He was simply making the best of an uncomfortably humid situation, half sprawled over the granite countertop, his shirt rucked up under his armpits. It felt amazing, and he had no regrets.

“C-O-O-L,” he replied blandly, cheek squashed against the blissfully chilled stone.

“No!” Artemis snapped, clearly out of temper. She folded her arms- a huge mistake since that’d only help store heat, not dissipate it- and scowled. Nine times out of ten, that scowl only meant danger for Wally, but Artemis had been known to catch Dick with a ringing blow to the ears. She’d even deliberately tripped Conner when he was in one of his Moods. Dick privately believed that particular instance had hurt Artemis more than Conner, but she still got so many points for moxy. “No, Robin, not cool. It’s, in fact, the opposite of cool.” He tilted his face to squint up at her through his shades. She continued to glowered at him, her tone getting that sharpened, sinister edge that signaled imminent violence. “And when things get grossly overheated like this, I tend to lash out at the closest available target. I.E. you.”