#soulsasks

✩ soulreapin / soul / reagan

✩ writer + thinker + talker + hater

✩ voltron: legendary defender / arcane / stardew valley / all for the game (nora sakavic)

✩ you can find my ao3 here and my carrd here

✩ the ask box is open! i cannot guarantee a timely or coherent response but you’re welcome to try; anon is welcome.

tags:

i’m soul! my main blog is @soulreapin for mostly voltron stuff

ao3

neil is my favorite character because i love me a good pain in the ass, but jean and dan are close seconds

i write and talk about aftg 😁

my tags will be #soulshcs for headcanons, #soulsasks for asks, #soulsfics for fics, and #soulsthoughts for other miscellaneous garbage!

keith is gods bravest everything because i think this poor wet cat got afflicted with EVERYTHING

tummy aches migraines nausea joint aches the whole shebang

hes also lactose intolerant and thus he is miserable All. The. Time.

Please

i reblogged that literally four seconds before you sent this ask

Lying face-down on couches brings Keith a lot of joy. He couldn’t tell you why, but something about his nose being tucked between couch cushions is soothing.

Keith has had a long couple of days. Mission after mission of dealing with anyone and anything that could possibly get in his way. Red was pissier than ever, jostling the cabin in response to his own aggression.

So he tucks his face into the couch cushions late into the night, so late it was considered morning, and heaves out a breath to try and catch some modicum of sleep.

“Hey there, Ace.” Lance says above him.

Keith murmurs something hateful into the couch, something about Lance fucking off and dying. Unfortunately, Lance does not catch this and if he did, he does not take the hint, because he can feel the slight warmth radiating off of the blue paladin’s thigh into the top of his head.

Lance goes quiet, the only sound coming out of him is the slight whistle and heave of his breathing.

Resettling back into the cushions, Keith tries to go back to sleep.

Key word: tries.

Amidst all that trying, ignoring Lance’s thigh nestled against the top of his head, Keith feels crafty fingers built for a blaster start to thread into his hair.

His breath hitches and Keith feels something in his spine yank tight, looping around the gaps in his vertebrae and squeezing until he can’t breathe.

The fingers don’t pull away from his hair. Mussed and sweat-ridden from hours beneath a space helmet as it was, Lance’s careful fingers don’t stop moving through the dark strands with a careful, practiced ease.

It’s not…world-ending. Keith finds himself inching a little further into it, his nose leaving the safety of the crack in the couch cushions just a bit so Lance can rest his palm on the top of Keith’s head.

Touch is seldom-known to Keith who grew up bounced between houses, never homes, who would rather tuck his knife up his sleeve than take off the jacket. Shiro did his best to initiate physical contact, but after The Incidient, touch fell off the table.

The two of them go on like this for hours, Lance playing with the strands of Keith’s hair and Keith relishing in it like a cat lying on a rock in the sun. Keith shifted his cheek onto Lance’s thigh, moving his arms so he can hold onto his pillow’s other leg. He falls asleep like this. And its the best damn sleep his ass has ever had in his life.

Everyone on the castle takes a scrapbook’s worth of pictures. Lance’s are the most coveted, taken one-handed as Keith sleeps contentedly in Lance’s lap.

it's me again and i would like to suggest to you

keith being weirdly good at card games bc in the foster home he used to play them with the younger kids when they couldn't sleep

stop i love good with kids keith. im gonna cook hold on just you wait.

“That is the fucking fourth time you’ve won in Go Fish, Keith!”

Keith shrugs and gathers up the deck of cards to shuffle them between his two thumbs and forefingers.

Zarkon has decided to give the Paladins a night off from the war raging its path around the universe, so on their off day they sit in a loose circle on the main deck of the ship.

Originally, they had tried charades, but one too many altean animals from Allura had killed the mood.

They were at a loss for a while, bickering quietly, when Keith produced a worn pack of playing cards from the inside jacket of his pocket and put together a quiet game of Solitare for himself.

Lance glanced over and saw him shuffling those cards like a pro, and his brief moment of silence was crushed to bits when Pidge suggested they play card games.

“I’m sorry you’re bad at Go Fish,” Keith offers blandly as he shuffles, sounding not at all like he’s even remotely sorry, “But I’m not and you just have to live with it.”

Hunk glowers at him.

“Are we sure his cards aren’t rigged?” Lance comments, leaning towards Pidge for support.

Keith’s nose wrinkles as he shuffles, “How would you rig a fuckin’ deck o’ cards, huh?”

“I—I don’t know, maybe you carved shit into them!”

One single raised eyebrow and Lance’s defense crumbles with a huff.

“How are you so good at these human cards, Keith?” Allura asks, leaning forwards with interest.

Her hair is down and shifts like the steam curling off of a waterfall down over her shoulders.

Keith shrugs. “Go Fish again?”

All of them nod in ascent. He begins to deal out the cards evenly and methodically, and while he does, Keith gradually dredges up the memories associated with his bent and worn red playing cards. “I grew up in an orphanage, yaknow? And nobody really looked at a little ol kid like me, so I had to find ways to entertain myself.”

They begin to play while he talks. Keith stringing together more than six words in a sentence in a normal speaking tone outside of a mission was basically unheard of. “I found a deck of cards one day. One of the older kids taught me how to play Go Fish, and whenever we had time thats what we did. And cards was my only social skill.”

Quietly, Shiro asks Hunk, “Any sevens?”

“Go Fish.”

“I eventually picked up Solitare from the old folks home we visited as community service. All the younguns seemed to really like playing cards with me, so when one of them couldn’t sleep they’d come get me and we’d play a game. Somethin’ easy, even just Solitaire while I sat with them. Shiro, you’ve got a nine, give it to me I know it.”

Begrudgingly, Shiro hands over not one but two nines.

“That’s quite sweet. But I assumed you weren’t fond of other members of your kind?” Allura shakes her head when Lance asks for a six.

Lance gives Keith the finger when Keith mouthes skill issue at him. “Mostly, I ain’t. But little kids are different. They haven’t done anythin’ to deserve being disliked yet. And I know that when I was their age, I needed someone to stay up and play cards with. So I figured I would be that person for them.”

Small tears are beading in Shiro’s eyes.

how much are you willing to bet that keith has said darn tootin at some point and the other paladins just looked at him like: 😧

hello!!

i would at least be willing to bet a single corn chip because he HAS (it was directed at the microwave or something)

but i will also raise you:

keith used a triple contraction once and the WHOLE team including allura and coran started *dead* at him

“y’ain’t’ve seen my bayard round wouldya”

SOME PEOPLE TWINKIFY HIM

he is a buff strong rootin tootin cowboy if ive ever seen one

OMG ok hc one time post space whale lance was being a little shit and keith just Picks Him Up. no sweat no effort just upsie daisies

DOWN WITH THE TWINK AGENDA!!!! especially after the space whale and working for the blade like my man is Built