Can’t Put A Label On Love
Can’t put a Label on Love
“Are you labelling me?”
Lance rued the day that he had brought that stupid labelling device home. Now that they were moving into a house, Keith had made it his God-given duty to label everything. Everything. Lance could hardly put anything in a box before it had something stuck to it.
PUT IN THE KITCHEN was stuck to everything that belonged to the kitchen. It didn’t matter if it was a plate, or a pot, or a salt shaker, or a dishrag. Everything had a label. Keith had been cut off after he’d tried to do it to their clothes. Apparently, he had found the labeller.
“What?” He scoffs, backing away, holding something behind his back. “No. Nope. Not at all. I don’t have the labeller.”
Lance raises an eyebrow. When Keith looks away, his amethyst eyes unable to hold his husband’s gaze - that was a sure sign that Keith was lying; he couldn’t look anyone in the eyes - he twists to see what had been put on his shirt.
“Keith, seriously,” He whines. “I just bought this shirt. It hasn’t even been through the dryer!”
“Sorry, babe.” Keith hums, turning around. He didn’t sound sorry at all. In fact, the only thing Lance could hear was the telltale tapping that had come to haunt his nightmares. He wasn’t afraid of clowns, or of spiders, or anything that might lurk in the shadows. No, it was the damn clicking of that labeller. Apparently his poor subconscious was terrified of one of the most harmless things known to man.
“No, you aren’t.” Lance mumbles, pulling his shirt off. This earns him a wolf whistle. “I get the feeling that you only wanted me to take this off.”
“Maybe.” Keith walks over, leaning down to give him a kiss. “I can’t help it, you have a fantastic body.”
“Yeah, whatever.” He can feel his face growing warm and his ego puffing itself up. My husband thinks I’m hot.
Husband. That was still such a new concept. They had been married for less than a month - the offer they’d made on the tiny house in the middle-of-nowhere-Arizona (exactly where Keith had wanted to be) had gone through on their wedding day. Now, instead of vacationing, they had spent the weeks since in their tiny apartment, packing up everything they owned. It was amazing how much stuff they had managed to pack into this place.
It had been ten years since they’d returned from space. Ten years since Keith had come home with Lance to Cuba, ten years since they had professed their love to one another, ten years since Lance had looked up at the stars and decided that he would give them all to Keith. In a way, he had. They’d saved the universe. Those were a tribute to that.
It had been two since he’d proposed to Keith. Two since he’d taken him aside at a reunion dinner for Voltron, taken him out underneath those same stars, given him a ring and a promise to stay with him for the rest of his life.
Of course, the whole team had been in on it. When they had come back in, both giddy and tearful with the amount of emotion that was flowing through their veins, the simple dinner had turned into so much more. There were sparklers, cake, a giant banner courtesy of Pidge, and enough alcohol to flood the desert they were moving to.
Living in Arizona was going to be a change from the bustling city of New York, but they both despised the cold. Plus Keith had gotten a grudging offer to be an instructor at the Garrison. Not that Lance minded - he loved how excited his husband was to move back to his element.
“Thank you.” Lance mumbles to his husband, looking up and taking in his beauty. He had truly married the best person in the world. Long hair constantly swept into a haphazard bun, scars that traced jagged lines over his body, a firecracker temper, soulful eyes that were often pinched with a frown.
“Yep.” Keith pads into the kitchen, the sound of a label printing off following him. Lance smiles and shakes his head. They were going to have to find some sort of sticker-remover-goo at the store before they left.
He glances down at his shirt, turning it around to read the label. BEST HUSBAND IN THE ENTIRE COSMOS, it read. KEEP CLOSE AT ALL TIMES.
The former Paladin of Voltron smiles, pulling his shirt back on and leaving the sticker. He was the luckiest guy in the world. But now to deal with the labeller situation…
“Babe, come back here with that! You’re on label probation!”
“No!”
There’s a pause, then a shriek of laughter as Lance speeds into the kitchen to wrestle the object from his husband. The snow falls gently outside. Lights were coming on in the City That Never Sleeps. Children were being tucked into bed, people were turning on the nightly news, dishes were being washed, routines were being followed.
But in this tiny, cramped little apartment, the former heroes of the universe were moving on to better things, one label at a time.
More Posts from Renywrites and Others
My friend has made really neat little pride pins! So far I'm the only backer and I don't know a lot of people to share this with. If you have the time/money to snag a pin or share the kickstarter it would mean a lot!
Happy birthday!
I was informed by Tumblr that this blog turns one today! How crazy is that!
Guess what!
Hey all! So I’ve decided to open commissions on one-shots!
So the rules:
1. Try and keep the prompt in the 1000-2000 word range for me to write. A couple sentences for a prompt is great, just give me a general outline of what you want!
2. No weird kinks, please. I do nsfw for sure, but weird kinks... no thank you. Lightly kinky things are okay. I’ll let you know what I’m comfortable with.
How it works:
Send your prompt to my kofi with your $3 commission fee that’s required to buy/donate something on Ko-fi. Try and keep it short please! I work weekends and sporadically in the week, so I really don’t want elaborate plots that take me weeks to do. Also, I will not write anything for you without you paying up front.
However! If you do want an elaborate plot, then I ask that you pay $3 (a kofi) for each chapter you want. Message me on my other blog (@gravitationallychallengedrabbits) or comment here if you have a long plot and want to talk to me about it!
The fandoms I will do:
Hetalia, Voltron, She-Ra: Princesses of Power, Final Fantasy 15
The ships I’ll do:
Adashi, shance, sheith, klance, kidge, shidge, lance/romelle, shallura, shklance, usuk, fruk, spapru, spamano, gerita, catradora, catra/scorpia, mermista/seahawk, promptis, ignis/gladio. There may be more, just message me!
Be warned: I haven’t written for spop or FFXV yet, and it’s been years since I’ve written for Hetalia.
I will also write something for your OCs if you give me a good enough description! I’m always open to experimenting with new characters.
I love you guys and look forward to this <3
For me personally, I really like college aus or witch aus! You can never go wrong with a good ol' college-rivalry-turned-smut-or-fluff or a cute apothecary witch au.
hey beautiful souls, what are ur fave aus concerning klance???
the author's barely disguised open wound splattered livid and filthy across everything they create
me having a new idea for a relatively short fic:
Today is the day that I put my foot down.
Today is the day that I stand up for myself. Today is the day that I see through you. Today is the day that I call you out. Today is the day that you face your homophobia and call yourself what you are.
You are the reason we march. You are the reason we raise our flags. You are the reason we dress up in vivid colors, the reason we scream at the top of our lungs, the reason we wear our pins, the reason we sell our merch, the reason I write these words.
Because without you, we would be free. Without you, we would not have to march and scream. Without you, our existence would be so much easier. I would not be afraid of every man who might want to “correct” my sexuality. My friend would not have to correct everyone who uses the incorrect pronouns. My girlfriend and I would not have to fear holding hands in public.
This month is full of pride and happiness and acceptance and love. There’s a reason we call it Pride Month. You will not — I will not let you — take that away from us.
I stand with my brothers and sisters and all of the people in between. I will protect them and love them and shield them from the hate that you so desperately throw at us. You may spit on us from the sidelines, you may wave those signs, you may take the lives of innocent people — but we will not falter.
I once was a part of a religion that had a song with the verse that said “we won’t be shaken.” Whatever my relationship with religion may be, that verse has always stuck with me. And now, it’s become an anthem.
You look me dead in the eyes and call the people I have come to love and who have accepted me with open arms degenerates. You tell me the parade and celebration we hold every year has a premise that is not allowed in thoughts, in hearts, in minds. By doing this, you degrade my family and you condemn our feelings.
Today is the day I put my foot down.
I am proud of who I am. I have worked hard to pull myself from the closet you filled with shame, guilt, and hatred. I have come to accept myself and I am still exploring every spectrum, nook, and cranny with the woman I love. I am in love. I am happy. I am proud.
You can scream, you can cry, you can take away the things we love and put us in a box. But this is your warning — you will not keep us there. We are here, we are queer, and we are ready to kick some fucking ass.
Today is the day you eat your fucking words.
**
So I’m back, and I’m pissed, and I’m ready for the world to kiss my ass. I think it’s about time I wrote all this down in words that I hope are inspiring.
Leave a comment or send an ask about your thoughts, or maybe just say hi. Gay rights, baby! Happy fucking Pride.
support fic writers!
Sometimes writing is one continuous flow of words weaved together beautifully and other times it’s like frantically stitching together a bunch of mismatched fabric together to make a quilt
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BLACK LIVES MATTER. FREE PALESTINE. reny | 24 | sometimes a writer | they/she | brown eyed sevika supremacy
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