“You Good?” Sevika Asks, And Vi Barks Out A Laugh.

Hey guys! I just want to say thank you so, so much for everything you guys have done for me. From the likes, to the reblogs, to the donations. You all contributed $70 in total and I cannot thank you enough. As much as people want to believe tumblr is a terrible place, all of you have shown me that there is such a thing as support and niceness in the world. Especially in people I’ve never even met before.

Seriously, guys. I’m sitting here crying as I write this because I can’t believe how much of a support system I’ve gained just through this crazy thing called the internet. Especially when only my girlfriend has stepped up to be my emotional support. Thank you. I cannot stress this enough.

On a more serious note, I have some news involving my writing. 

The situation at home and the tension between my mom and I has only increased and gotten worse over the past three days. I haven’t been in such a terrible emotional state in a really long time, and I don’t want it to impact my grades or get me kicked out for sure.

That being said, I’m taking a short break from writing fanfiction until I can gather myself enough. Those of you who sent in requests, thank you so much, and I promise that they will get written when I’m feeling better. There may be sporadic updates when I get bored and want to write something. 

Again, thank you all so much. I love all of you.

Trying to find the perfect name for a character, but you only have a vague idea of what you want, like “he feels like a 2-syllable kind of guy” or “It need a hard consonant at the end.”   

in a constant state of ‘how dare you assume i know what i’m doing’ but also ‘don’t you dare question me or what i’m doing’   

there’s no better feeling than getting fucked up by an author over and over as you make your way through their ao3 fic list

hi im bitter about people not commenting on fics. im sad seeing all these authors get so discouraged because no one comments. it takes like 5 seconds! just do it!! dont know what to type? me neither! heres some handy pre-written comments for you! “I dont know what to comment! That was great! thank you for your hard work!” “That was lovely! I really enjoyed this chapter/fic.” “How dare you?” “AAAAAAAAAAAAA” “Extra kudos because one is not enough!” if you read a fic and dont know what to say, leave the tab open, come back later! see if theres a line you really liked! tell them if it reminded you of something dumb! tell them if your roommate saw you crying while reading it and now your roommate is reading it!!! SHARE WHATEVER. BE INCLUSIVE! everyone wants to hear SOMETHING. silence kills passion. show authors you care! show artists you care!!!! 

Unaware touch starved Sevika x (un)surprisingly observant Vi

Slight NSFW! I made it into a 5+1 :) hope that's okay, anon <3

~~~

One

Sevika grunts softly as she disconnects the hydraulics that connect her arm to the harness, setting it down on the kitchen table with a louder clatter than she means. She stares blankly at the limb, mouth pressed into a thin line, before she sits down heavily at the chair in front of it. 

Vi pokes her head out of the kitchen, blinking, then smiles. “Hey, baby.”

“Hi.” Sevika grunts.

“You hungry?” Vi comes over to nudge the discarded limb further on the table so it doesn’t continue its slide down toward the floor. 

Sevika grunts again, watching Vi, tense. 

Vi softens. She brushes a hand through Sevika’s hair, ignoring the initial way she tenses. Her fingers massage her scalp gently, pulling a low groan from her girlfriend. Sevika’s eyes close and she drops her head back, bumping against Vi’s chest and staying there. 

“Yeah?” Vi murmurs. 

She gets another grunt, softer this time, as Sevika relaxes into the feeling. 

~~~

Two

Sevika had little tells. She tended to loom, when she was pissed off. She grit her teeth, ground them a little each time someone pissed her off enough. It left her jaw sore and her teeth pulsing painfully, which usually led to a headache. 

She also has a habit of slamming things around a bit when she’s coming down from the dregs of anger. It’s quiet, but she’s firm and sharp with every inanimate object around her. Vi can usually hear muttering from the bedroom when Sevika argues with a dresser drawer or negotiates space with the bathroom counter.  

It isn’t until they’re settled in on the couch to watch a movie that Vi can urge her to lay down in her lap. Sevika usually goes with another little grumble, but she doesn’t bother to hide the way she shoves her face in Vi’s thigh when she finally settles. 

She grunts softly when Vi reaches down to gently massage her jaw, her thumb pressing gently to the juncture of her temple and jawbone, rubbing the pressure from it. Sevika melts, eyes slipping shut as Vi picks through their option of reruns and shitty romcoms. 

If she dozes off before Vi can pick one, nobody needed to know.

~~~

Three

Vi’s favorite thing to do was watch Sevika melt. She’d found a couple ways to do it, but her favorite way was when they were getting ready for bed. 

It was usually when Sevika was grumbling about work, or recounting a new cool fact she’d learned, or just generally listing off their schedule for the upcoming days. This was Vi’s favorite time to interrupt, turning to look at Sevika and reaching up to cup her face. 

It always made Sevika stutter a little, pause, her long eyelashes flickering. She always pressed her cheek into one of Vi’s palms, eyes slipping halfway shut. 

“Yeah?” Vi murmurs every time, her free thumb brushing over Sevika’s cheek, tilted up in offering for every affection Vi could give. 

“Mmh.” Sevika hums softly, melting, nearly purring like a happy kitten. 

Vi often stayed right there, letting Sevika cup her wrist and hold her there. 

~~~

Four

Kiss attacks were something Sevika had no knowledge of before Vi. 

It came when Vi got tipsy, and went as such; Vi squinted at her from across the bar, or beside her on the adjoining barstool, and pouts. Her cheeks were always a little flushed, her gaze bright with her alcohol of choice. 

Didn’t matter if Sevika had a full cup in hand, if Sevika was in the middle of a conversation, if Sevika was trying to appear put together in front of some visitors for work - nope. Vi got that gleam in her eyes, and Sevika was helpless to do anything but wait to catch her girlfriend in her arms and get smothered in kisses. 

Sevika liked to wrap her arms around Vi’s waist, hold her flush against her body, even if she groaned and complained and pretended to hate it. Vi liked to finish with a kiss to the tip of her nose, noisy and sweet, and lean heavily against her to steal her drink. 

Sevika was always left grinning afterwards. 

~~~

Five

The best kind of touch, in Sevika’s opinion, came when she decided to give in and let Vi do as she pleased in bed. 

Vi was so gentle with her; the cocky tendencies and teasing went right out the window the moment Sevika either gave in to Vi’s request or asked outright for it. She spent so much time pressing kisses to every inch of Sevika’s skin, murmuring soft praise against her skin, pausing to pay special attention to every scar. 

Orgasms were more intense when Sevika let Vi take her time, working her up gently and slowly, somehow following every cue Sevika gave or didn’t give, doing exactly what her body wanted or needed with hardly a breath. Sevika always melted easily, making noises she hadn’t known she was capable of before Vi. 

It always ended with tears; Sevika overwhelmed to the point of crying once she did topple over the edge into pleasure with an intensity she’d never thought was possible. Vi always curled up against her side, kissing her tears away and stroking her hair until she calmed and settled, head tucked beneath Vi’s chin. 

Sevika never returned the favor those nights, but Vi never seemed to mind. She was happy to pull the blankets around them and murmur praise until Sevika fell right to sleep against her.

~~~

Plus One

“Vi,” Sevika says one morning, while she’s sitting at the table, reading an article on her phone. 

The smell of bacon and the sound of grease popping filters from the kitchen, where Vi was making them a lazy weekend brunch. “Yeah, baby?”

“I’m reading this article,” Sevika pulls her reading glasses off. 

“Okaaay..” Vi hums, waiting for her to elaborate. 

Sevika is silent for a moment, before she clears her throat and asks, “Do you know what being touch starved is?”

There’s the sound of… maybe laughter? Before it’s choked off and Vi coughs. “I, uh - yes. Yeah. I do know. Why?”

Sevika squints suspiciously at the noise. “...I think I may be that.”

Vi chuckles this time, unable to help herself. “Yeah. Yeah, baby, I think you are. Figure it out finally?”

“You knew?” Sevika yelps, heat rising to her cheeks. 

Vi comes out of the kitchen, leaning in the doorway, fond. “Yes, love. I knew.” She goes over, smelling of bacon and coffee, pausing to kiss the top of Sevika’s head. Sevika melts, and then <em>realizes</em> she was melting, and scowls. 

“Oh.” She says instead, and Vi sighs fondly and kisses her forehead. 

“I’ll make sure you aren’t starved, Sev. Just lemme do my thing, okay?”

“Okay.” Sevika grumbles, and leans into the playful scratch to the short hairs on the back of her neck.

Hello all! I’m participating in Klancetober, a klance-centric October prompt list. I’ll be posting at least one installment a day, but please have patience If I fall behind.

*

Day One: A Walk in the Park

It was finally cold enough to bundle up in warm clothes and drink warm pumpkin spice lattes and watch the leaves fall from the trees. It was finally, finally time to indulge in all the holiday feelings and the warm atmospheres. Even if that meant suffering through the Christmas section in every single store. Even if it was the first day of October.

Keith enjoyed the cooler weather. It was definitely better than the Arizona heat. He lived for the weather where all he needed was a light sweatshirt and jeans and beat up old sneakers. The heat was something he could permanently live without. But the cold? He would gladly live in the mountains, given the chance.

Lance, on the other hand… he had grown up in sunny, tropical Cuba. He hated the cold and took extra measures to keep himself bundled up and away from any semblance of chill. He bundled himself in scarves and fluffy coats and heavy boots and mittens. He looked like a colorful marshmallow in the winter, and Keith loved him for it.

Today, the first day with an overcast sky and the first day where it was ethically acceptable to put out orange fairy lights and spooky decorations in the front yard. Keith had watched fondly as Lance had wrapped himself in a hand-stitched scarf (courtesy of his mother; Keith had a matching one that Lance had pilfered for his own use) and a fluffy sweater.

“We’re only going to the park, you know.” Keith teases from his spot at the kitchen table, finishing off his cooling coffee.

Lance huffs, tying the scarf off into some sort of fashionable loop. “It’s cold! I don’t know how you’re only in jeans and a t-shirt.”

“I like it.” He chuckles, shaking his head. “Are you ready? You’re the one who wanted to go.”

“I know, I know.” The Cuban grumbles, sliding on his winter boots. “I’m ready. Let’s go see the leaves and stuff. Even if it is twenty below.”

“It’s sixty degrees, love.” Keith grins, getting up and sliding into his own shoes. “You won’t die of hypothermia just yet.”

“I’m gonna die,” Lance groans, reaching over and taking his boyfriend’s hand.

“You won’t.” Keith presses a kiss to his cheek. “Let’s go.”

The two walk out of the house, taking in the crisp, cold air and the sound of dried leaves scraping against the pavement as the breeze whisked them away. Keith swings their hands between them, smiling to himself.

If there was any sort of heaven to be had here on this earth, Keith was sure this was it. With a boyfriend bundled up in more layers than was necessary, holding his hand and listening to him chatter about the new fall related flavors his favorite cafe was introducing this week.

That, added with the serene calm of the autumn air, the clear path of the park by their house, and the leaves rustling in the breeze - this was heaven. Keith was sure of it.

“What’re you thinking about?” Lance asks, snapping him out of his reverie.

The Korean looks over at him with a smile, leaning over and kissing his cheek. “Just about how much I love you.”

His boyfriend flushes, smiling and tipping his head to the side. “Aww, babe. That’s gay.”

“I am so gay,” Keith laughs, tugging on his hand and kissing him.

“I love you.” Lance murmurs against his lips.

With a smile and a hand on his hip, he pulls back and looks up at his lovely boyfriend. “I love you, too.”

Chapter 2 of The Gay Agenda is out!!

Find it here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17771501/chapters/42169739

Also I'm sorry for the random posts, my girlfriend and I share this account and half the time we forget which one we're on 😂

I Like You A Latte

Who doesn’t love a good coffee shop au? Here, have some fluff with my favorite boys.

Keith had never really considered himself to be the type of person to find someone immediately attractive. He didn’t find people attractive in general, just annoying. It was probably why his last few relationships had failed. To be fair, talking about golf tactics while you’re in your early twenties doesn’t exactly scream late night parties and fun dates. Even if the guy was incredibly sweet and a pretty good lay.

Regardless, Keith didn’t exactly believe in that whole love at first sight propaganda. His brother did; it was how he had found his girlfriend of three years. He told the story with doe eyes and a goopy smile that made Keith want to pull his insides out just to have an excuse to save himself from the story again. No, love at first sight was not a thing.

“Hey, buddy, what can I get’cha?”

Until now.

Keith can only stare wide eyed at the glorious Greek God of a man, who was watching him expectantly with a smile that probably was the reason the sun rose every morning. He was taller than Keith by just a bit, his muscular arms peeking out from his black uniform. There was the trace of a tattoo peeking out at his collarbone - not that Keith was looking, God - and another on his wrist.

His blue eyes sparkle with amusement at Keith’s apparent predicament. He leans on the counter, his muscles flexing - somebody in here had to know CPR, Keith hoped, because he was going to need it in a few minutes.

“You know what you want?” He asks, in a voice that lilts with the barest trace of an accent. Keith guesses it’s of Spanish or Latin descent. He doesn’t care, though, because he just wanted this guy to keep talking to him.

“I-I,” Keith splutters, choking on his tongue. “Yes. Yeah, I, uh.” He whips out his phone. Pidge was going to kill him if he got her order wrong for the third time in a row, which was why he’d had her text it to him.

“Um, so, uh… Bear with me here,” He chuckles nervously, scrolling up to the message. “My friend wants a triple venti half-sweet caramel macchiato, but like… not hot.”

The barista blinks, leaning back and running a hand through his hair before looking at the register and starting to punch it in. “Alright… You said venti, right?”

He glances up. Keith swallows his heart and nods.

“And what can I get you?” His fingers are ready for the next ridiculous order, but Keith was unfortunately one to disappoint.

“Um, just a black coffee. One cream, one sugar. Oh, and a coffee cake.” Pidge would kill him if he forgot her coffee cake.

He smiles faintly, tugging Keith’s heartstrings along with it. “Wow. Adventurous, aren’t we?” He takes a break, leaning over the register again. “Okay. Let’s do this. One triple venti half-sweet caramel macchiato, one coffee cake and one black coffee, one cream and one sugar.”

Keith wanted him to talk forever. That voice was doing things to him that should be illegal at this time of day, in this weather. It was freezing outside, he was supposed to be freezing his ass off, not melting from the inside out.

“Yeah. Sounds about right.” He says, pulling his wallet from his back pocket and flipping it open.

“You want your coffee cake hot?” The magnificent angel asks in his glorious voice. Keith was very glad he was a flaming homosexual.

“Um,” He glances over at the door, which had frosted over from the heat that contrasted from the biting cold outside. “No, I think it might freeze if I do that. Pidge would kill me…”

“So I’m guessing you want your hot drink stopped up?” The barista - Keith drops his gaze down to read the Hi, My Name Is Lance! tag - laughs. He could feel his heart fluttering like a bird in his chest. Lance was such a… perfect name. He had never loved a name more in his life.

“Yes, please,” He says helplessly, smiling. “I don’t feel like being castrated today.”

“That would be a shame,” Lance says almost suggestively with a playful wink. “Nineteen fifty-two is your total. Cash or card?”

Keith winces. Pidge owed him one for this. The things he put up with for a good grade in Calculus. He pulls out a twenty, handing it to Lance, and drops his change into the tip jar with an extra dollar.

“Hey, thanks,” The barista lights up. He picks up a couple cups, jotting stuff down on the back and pausing, flicking his electric blue gaze up. “Name?”

“Uh,” Keith was so good at English. “Keith.”

He would swear up and down that Lance smirked at him. It was either that or someone had shocked Keith’s spine to make him shiver. “Great. It should be ready in a few minutes.”

“Thanks, Lance.”

The look of surprised happiness on the barista’s face was enough to make his entire week.

***

“You are obsessed.” Pidge remarks dryly, sipping her coffee and looking up at him with amused hazel eyes.

“No!” Keith defends hotly, sipping a pumpkin spice latte that Lance had mentioned were his favorite one afternoon. Not that he cared. Not that he went there every morning looking for the barista with the stunning smile and lilting voice.

“Keith, you hate pumpkin.”

“It’s not so bad…” He mumbles, glancing down at his Calculus textbook, flipping it open. Never had he wanted to actually do his homework so badly.

“Keith,” His best friend reaches over, pulling the bag that held the recommended-by-Lance treat over to herself. She looks down, then back up at him. “You’re drinking pumpkin shit. You’re eating something that actually resembles food, and you literally go to this particular Starbucks every morning to see if you can catch the guy. What’s his name? Lance?”

He flushes hotly, yanking the bag away from her. “I just like that particular Starbucks!”

“Uh huh,” She pushes her glasses up the brim of her nose. “Whatever you say, Gaylord.”

Keith stews quietly for a moment, reading the pages in front of him without actually comprehending any of the symbols. His gaze catches on her cup. He scans the printed out sticker that read the abbreviated version of her drink.

An idea creeps into his head. Keith looks up at his friend a smile playing around the corners of his lips. Pidge looks up, midway through shoveling half her coffee cake in her face.

“What?” She swallows, scowling at her friend. “You’re looking at me funny.”

“I need a favor.”

***

“Hey, Keith!”

Keith can feel himself grow an inch taller at the sound of his name when he walks through the door. He stomps the snow from his boots, looking around the empty store and unwinding his windblown scarf from his neck.

“Hey, Lance.” He grins, looking over at the barista. Lance was leaning over the counter lazily, resting his chin on his arms. That tattoo on his collarbone was tucked away. Keith feels a twinge of remorse. What he would give to see the full picture.

“What can I get you today, Space Cadet?” He teases, straightening up. Keith had made the mistake of telling him he was going to school to become an Aerospace Engineer, so now every day he had a new nickname that was space related.

Keith grins. “I have a new order for you. You ready for this?”

Lance stands up straight, saluting to him with a dopey grin. “Aye, aye, captain!”

He pulls out his phone as he walks over to the counter, clearing his throat. “So Pidge wants a venti caramel macchiato, with skim milk instead of regular, extra shot, extra hot,” He snorts at the rhyme. Lance grins. “Oh, and extra whip.”

The barista punches this into the register, scoffing as he writes down the name and circles a few things on the cup before sticking the order sticker on the cup. “Oh, c’mon, supernova. That wasn’t even hard. I could write that in my sleep.”

“And a coffee cake,” Keith adds with a laugh, blushing at the nickname. That was his favorite so far. “But I think you already knew that.”

“So predictable,” Lance sighs mournfully, poking out his bottom lip in a pout. “Give me a real challenge!”

Keith pauses, opening up his texting app and scrolling to the specific text. He had been blessed with a best friend who used Google Search as both a tool and a weapon. He never wanted to be on her bad side.

“Are you sure? Last chance to back out.”

Lance grins, getting ready to type in everything. “Hit me.”

Keith takes a breath. “Double ristretto venti, half soy, nonfat, decaf, organic, chocolate brownie, iced, vanilla, double shot, gingerbread frap, extra hot, with foam whipped cream, upside down, double blended, with one sweet n low and one nutrasweet and ice.”

The whole store is silent. Even the music was holding its breath. Keith glances up from his phone, clicking it to sleep mode and looking up at the barista. Lance was staring at him with a stricken expression, as though Keith had reached out and smacked him.

“Damn, starshine!” He laughs, rubbing his neck. “I don’t even… I don’t even think that will taste good, buddy.”

Keith grins, pocketing his phone. “I know.”

“But…” Lance hesitates, his blue gaze flicking up to Keith’s, nervous and worried. “You… sure you want that?”

“Fuck no, I don’t want that!” Keith laughs, shaking his head.

“You ass!” Lance groans, rubbing his face. “You nearly made me die, I’m the only one on the floor right now and I don’t even… half of that sounds made up!”

“Yeah,” Keith agrees smugly. “Definitely.”

“You’re so mean.” Lance whines.

“Yeah.” He agrees with another laugh.

Lance studies him, the anxious relief fading from his eyes, replaced by something softer. Keith had to look away, his cheeks heating up. Why did this guy make him feel like goo?

“So what do you actually want?” The barista asks, his gaze surprisingly soft.

You, Keith thinks, but that wasn’t something you could just… say. He settles for another pumpkin spice latte and a bagel sandwich, paying and watching as Lance moves around to effortlessly craft the drinks.

When Keith is walking out, he glances down to see writing on the paper bag that his breakfast was in. He recognized the familiar scrawl, pausing on his route to look down.

You liar, the pretty scrawl reads. There’s a number, Lance’s name under it, with another message underneath it. Here’s what you really wanted.

Alright y'all omegaverse won 😂 I see all of you. I'll work on that tonight and have a sneak peek, full will be posted this weekend! ❤️ thank you all for participating!