Noelinora
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“I’m not cut out for this shit,” Lance admits, hardly able to face Keith as he says it. He passes the bottle back.
Keith stares at the glass, at where Lance’s lips just were, and is unable to bring it to his own. It feels too intimate. He frowns, sorting through things in his mind. “…For parties?”
Lance looks at him like he’s being purposefully dense. “For Voltron.” He rolls a hand out toward the sky. “For— for being out here in space.”
Or, sometimes a few drinks go a long way.
Bookmarked by Noelinora
13 Jul 2026
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Lance leaned casually with one arm against the frame, the other loosely picking at the hem of his open button-up. Familiar. And not. The same unconscious habit he'd had since the Garrison. Sleeves rolled up over forearms built from nearly two years of farm work rather than the feathered muscles of a trigger finger.
Keith let his eyes trail the drape of worn cotton over square shoulders. The shoulders he had traced with light fingertips in the threads of morning, the shoulders that had supported him upright as he bled out in an alien field. The shoulders he'd watched shake and heave over a toilet the first time Lance had shot someone point blank, the shoulders he'd held in a castleship bed while the roiling mess of the universe narrowed to the sliver of air between their mouths.
"Your fly's down," Keith told him.
Or: Keith visits Lance after the war's end. What they won't talk about complicates things.
Bookmarked by Noelinora
12 Jul 2026
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you'll be mine (and I'll be yours) by theprinceandagcd
Fandoms: Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid, Heated Rivalry (TV)
10 Jan 2026
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Ilya hums, playing the card he's been considering for this entire conversation. “We could make more interesting, yes? A bet.”
“A bet,” Shane repeats, eyes flashing. “Like what?”
The reporter cuts in. “What about wearing the other player’s jersey?”
They both turn to her, and Shane says, “Like, the loser wears the winner’s jersey?”
“Maybe at the next game in a couple of months?”
“Is a good idea,” Ilya muses, nudging Shane’s elbow. “You will look better in my jersey than in Montreal jersey.”
Shane makes a low noise, his eyes holding a bit of a spark when he looks back to Ilya. It’s what Ilya was hoping for—the tiniest crack in the mask. He can see a hint of exasperated affection around the corners of Shane’s eyes, a little bit of fire burning just beneath the surface. It sends a thrill down Ilya’s spine, and he wonders if Shane will be snarky when Ilya gets him naked tonight.
“That’s not happening,” Shane replies, shaking his head. “Because you’re not winning.”
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Ilya should have known better.- Language:
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Bookmarked by Noelinora
14 May 2026
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“I’m his punishment then?” Keith asks, unable to tamp down whatever bitterness had clawed its way into his voice. “The only reason I’m deemed useful enough to finally come back is to be the prince’s punishment?”
or: Prince Lance is to be wed within four months. All Keith can do is stand guard and watch.
Bookmarked by Noelinora
09 May 2026
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Lance turns to face the window and starts to work on removing his chest plate. "I don't know about you, dude, but I'm tired. Can we do this later?"
Lance hears what he can only call a growl behind him, and the hair rises on the back of his neck. His skin tingles and he has to bite down on the inside of his cheek to bring the sudden frenzy of thoughts to a stop. Wow, okay. That's… something. "Your 'later' is never."
"That works, too!" Lance chirps. The chest plate comes off, and he tosses it to the side with the others. He starts to fiddle with his belt, but Keith's next words have him freezing.
"Why did you kiss me?"
Bookmarked by Noelinora
06 Mar 2026