#Baby Keith Au

[autisticlancemcclain]

One Saturday morning, as Keith and Lance descend the stairs on their way to the kitchen — as Keith practically carries a still half-asleep Lance, that is — Marcela whips towards them, points a scolding finger in their direction, and says, “I am tired of checking in on you two at night and seeing my son, sprawling over half the bed, while poor Keith clings to the edge. No more.”

Keith’s heart drops to his toes, pounding all the way down. His ears billow out and then fade slowly, like someone turned the volume down. He feels like a beyblade someone just spun and dropped onto the pavement, dizzy and sharp and sparking, trembling to a stop. For several horrifying moments he’s convinced that this may very well be it, and he’s shocked by his own surprise. He’s usually so prepared for the eventual end of someone’s affection, for the patience to run out, for the boot to kick him on the way out the door. It’s startling to realise how far he’s let his defences drop with the Esposita-McClains.

Dangerous.

But then Keith processes the entirety of her sentence, hears past “I’m tired of” and “Keith” in the same sentence. He sees her narrowed eyes and chiding finger and playful exasperation pointed at Lance’s guilty grin, not at Keith, and he realises she is exasperated by the fact that Lance takes up the whole bed every night Keith sleeps over, not that Keith sleeps over at all.

He unclenches his fist from the hem of Lance’s shirt. He’s not sure if Lance does it on purpose, but he leans farther into Keith, and the pressure helps ground him, helps him breathe again.

“I really don’t mind,” Keith mumbles. He keeps his eyes averted, unwilling to meet her knowing ones. “Lance isn’t that bad.”

Marcela snorts, ruffling his hair as she walks by to set the milk on the table. “Please, Keith. He’s a nightmare to sleep with and he knows it. He had to have those little toddler rails on the sides of his bed until he was seven years old because he kept falling off.”

Lance makes a noise of protest at the embarrassing anecdote. Keith smiles, patting his back slightly.

“He does drool.”

“And kick,” says Lance’s older sister Veronica, ducking into the kitchen to grab an apple. Rachel, his other sister, is right behind her, and she pipes up too.

“He also grinds his teeth!”

“And mutters freaky things. He said he was going to curse me once.”

“Oh, yeah, and there was the deal with the sleeping sitting up!”

“And there was —”

“Alright, girls,” Marcela interrupts, leaning over to hold down the hand Lance has clenched around a fork before he has a chance to launch breakfast at his sisters. She looks to have intervened in the nick of time, which makes Keith smile into his cereal. “Let’s not make your brother homicidal.”

Both girls leave the kitchen snickering. Lance’s face promises revenge. For their sake, Keith hopes they find a way to lock their room door, but somehow he doubts it. A part of him is intrigued about whatever scheme Lance will inevitably rope him into.

“I really am fine, though,” Keith repeats once calm has returned to the morning again. “I once had to sleep in a home that usually had more kids than beds, so Lance’s kicking is a significant improvement from a sleeping bag on the kitchen floor.”

He hadn’t meant for his comment to be upsetting. It wasn’t great, sure, but he’d had a roof over his head and food to eat, and he’d only been there for a couple days. The whole situation was funny in hindsight, hilarity inherent in the absurdity of his neon green sleeping bag next to the magnet-covered fridge, and that’s how he’d meant the comment. A joke.

But Marcela looks horrified, and Lance leans over to rest his head on Keith’s shoulder and wrap their hands together, and Keith realises he’s most definitely made a mistake.

“Kidding,” he tries anyway, but the damage is done. The determination in Marcela’s eyes becomes even more apparent, and she nods twice as if reassuring herself. Keith could kick himself.

“Be ready in twenty minutes,” she says resolutely. “We’re going out.”

———

In twenty minutes they’re in the car. Lance almost has his voice back by then, too, which is great, because Keith feels like he’s going to lose his — he’s expecting a fancy air mattress, really. At most he’s expecting to be delegated to his own space in the pull out couch or something. And even that is more than he ever thought he’d get. It’s not that he doesn’t think he deserves it, or anything like that. He knows that some of his living situations have been less than ideal, in the past few years.

But he…he’s not part of this family. He’s not supposed to be, anyway. He’s someone Lance dragged home someday, someone Lance latched onto and then everyone else seemed to follow his example. Keith knows his current foster family gets a cheque for an amount he’s too afraid to find out every month. He knows the state government pays people to home and house and feed him because no one else will. That’s how it’s been since that’s what it had to be.

He cannot understand what logic has inspired Marcela and Lance and all the Esposita-McClains, really, to home and house and feed him. He doesn’t understand.

He’s not expecting a forty minute drive to Ikea. He doesn’t understand why so much is being extended for him. He’s not expecting the determination in Marcela’s face and the way she holds Keith in one hand and Lance in the other, tightly, as if both are her children, until Lance whines and pulls himself free to come hold Keith’s other hand, as if he’s the commodity.

Keith doesn’t understand.

This is not how things are supposed to go.

This is never how things end up going. Not ever in a million years or even less.

“We should get a bunk bed!” Lance says excitedly, pulling Keith out of his thoughts and in a random direction. Marcela squeezes Keith’s hand once and lets go to allow it, stepping to the side to grab on of the boxy blue shopping carts.

Lance brightens even further when she brings over the cart, hopping onto the end of it and gesturing for Keith to do the same. Keith looks at the cart, then at Lance, then at the wheels, then at the total lack of space beside him, and imagines Marcela hitting the tiniest bump as they cram onto the little ledge and then them going flying.

He wisely chooses to walk over and grab the handlebar next to Marcela. She extends her pinky to rest next to Keith, which makes several emotions that he refuses to identify rise up in his throat.

“Let’s maybe consider our other options,” Marcela suggests as she pushes the cart farther. “You remember when we stayed over at your primo’s house when we first moved? You hit the ceiling every single morning because you could never remember that it was there. I don’t think bunk beds are for you, mijo.”

“And the toddler rail thing,” Keith adds. He’d meant it seriously — Lance has genuinely fallen a few times and Keith has had to drag him back up — but Lance huff-laughs in the way that he does when Keith teases him and he’s annoyed that he finds it funny, and Marcela straight up laughs. Keith meets Lance’s eyes and smiles to soften the unintentional dig.

“Fine,” Lance laments, dramatically leaning backwards on the rail. “We’ll just get boring normal beds I guess. Ooooou, we should get some bookshelves! Then Keith has somewhere to put all his nerd things.”

Marcela turns the shopping cart so quickly it screeches and nearly flings Lance right off, speeding towards the shelving area. Keith hurries to keep up.

“Excellent idea, Lancito. Bribing him to stay for longer. You’re so smart.”

Lance preens. Keith looks rapidly between them both, trying to find the joke, but there isn’t one. They, genuinely and truly, want to redesign Lance’s entire room to entice Keith to stay. However much it will cost, and Keith knows it will be a lot, they are doing more than what is reasonable to ensure they (not just Lance! All of them! The household!) can spend more time with Keith.

It’s baffling.

Try as he might, Keith simply cannot find a motive. He watches, gobsmacked, as Lance and Marcela hem and haw their way through the biggest furniture outlet chain in the world, comparing sturdy wooden shelving and colourful bean bag chairs and dorky spaceship themed beds, redesigning a whole room from scratch.

He startles out of his thoughts at Marcela’s beckoning, walking over to the display table she and Lance are illegally sitting at (there is a giant FOR VISUAL DISPLAY ONLY sign on it that they have ignored), half hunched over her cell and a pad of paper. “Keith, rojo, come here. We need you to sketch out the basics of Lance’s room so we know what fits. Marco is measuring the walls and everything right now. Don’t worry about anything that’s already in there, I think we’re taking it all out to paint it anyway. You like blue, right?”

Keith swallows roughly. He does like blue. He’s never painted his own room before.

“Yeah,” he manages, finally squishing down next to Lance on his chair.

Following Marco’s directions, he sketches out the foundations of the bedroom, marking the big window and weirdly narrow door and closet that Lance never uses because he has it piled full of stuff he doesn’t use but can’t bring himself to give away. The sketch is then used as a sort of map as they wander around the outlet, holding it up to various pieces of furniture and assessing how they would fit. It takes Keith some time, but after several hours of Lance’s energy and Marcela’s excitement, Keith starts to get hyped.

“Gasp!“ Lance says out loud, because he is a dork. He reaches a flapping hand over to Keith’s without looking, slapping him on the shoulder several times before finally managing to grip onto his sleeve. “Keith! Keith! Look!”

Keith squints in the direction Lance is emoting at. “A couch,” he says slowly, trying to figure out what warrants the intense excitement.

Honestly, it might be the couch. Lance got super excited about bar stools, earlier, so anything really goes.

“No no, farther!”

Keith squints harder. “The countertops?”

“Farther!”

“The…vases?”

“No! Farther!” Finally Lance gets frustrated enough to step behind Keith, gently pressing his palms to Keith’s cheeks and guiding his head in the right direction. “Now squint really hard and get excited with me.”

Keith tries. He sees grey blobs and says nothing, allowing the silence to speak for him.

“The stuffies, Keith! They’re sharks and hippos! Mama, Keith needs glasses.”

“I know,” she says at the same time that Keith says “No, I don’t.”

They stare at each other for several moments.

“As soon as you’re on the insurance,” she says levelly.

“I will feed them to a creek,” Keith promises.

He has never been this stubborn to Marcela before. He didn’t even mean to. If he had known he was going to say it he would have kept his mouth shut, but the words kind of bubbled out of him. He waits for her eyes to harden, her shoulders to square, for the annoyance to become evident at his insolence.

But she only snorts, leaning over to flick him on the forehead. “I got Marco to wear them. I got Lisa to wear them. I got my mule of a husband to wear them. If you need them, you will not out-stubborn me, toro.”

Keith shrugs. If she’s that hellbent on getting to know him, she’ll learn, he supposes.

By the time the time they break their intense eye contact, they realize that Lance has already wandered off towards the stuffed animals, and hasten to follow him (he gets lost easy). Lance is already halfway into this big bucket, digging for something specific.

“This is for you,” he says when he finally unearths himself, handing a hippo to Keith. “Smaller than the others, like you, and the fluff is a little matted but it’s softer than the others. The shark is for me because it was stuck on the hippo like I’m stuck on you.” He playfully checks Keith’s hip, giggling at his own joke, but Keith’s eyes are totally glued onto the wonky little hippo plushie in his hands. He holds it loosely, afraid of crushing it, and stares intensely at the matted fluff on the one side, the tangled mess of the little poof at the tail. He tries three times to swallow and fails each time, lump in his throat taking up too much space.

“We’re too old for stuffies,” he finally manages. He gives himself away by how tightly he holds the soft things in his hands.

Lance snorts. “Yeah, well, you’re a massive dweeb, so I think we’re fine.”

“I think they’ll be wonderful additions to your room,” Marcela says with finality, and that is that.

———

By the time they make it out of the maze that is Ikea, pack up the car, and set out on the ride home, it’s well after eight thirty. And Keith isn’t a baby, and neither is Lance, and they have a later bed time than that, but…

They’ve been walking around all day. There has been a lot of expended energy.

They’re tired.

Keith remembers being finagled into playing double-o seven with Lance in the back seat. He remembers losing. He remembers poking Lance in the cheek as he yawned just to hear him squawk.

He remembers nothing but the feeling of Lance’s warmth pressed against his, after that, and the seatbelt digging into his neck, and the numbness of his legs. Then he remembers nothing until he felt the familiar bump of the Esposita-McClain driveway, until he cracked open his eyes to see that they were home and closed them quickly again, hoping he wouldn’t be made to get up, still mostly asleep.

“Should we bother setting up the new beds?” comes a whispered voice, deeper and male.

“No, no,” comes another, higher and softer. “They can sleep together for tonight. You take Lancito. I’ll take Keith.”

He is awake enough to feel soft fingers brushing through his hair, then jostling, then heavy breathing beside his ear and the swaying of being carried. He falls fully asleep again against Marcela’s shoulder, leaning his weight onto her fully, forgetting to keep awake for the walk to their room. He stirs slightly again as he’s set down onto something soft, as he feels the familiar tug of Lance’s finger’s against the fabric of his shirt, the sound of his slow breathing.

“Goodnight, estrellitos,” comes the same whispered voice from earlier, and it’s the last thing Keith remembers before he slips away into sleep.

———

other parts in this universe: 1 2 3

[sibirsk-klance]

Baby Driver Au Pt. 1

[willowtreebee]

Shiro is a great father-!

Adam: “Takashi, please stop- This is like the 15th time you’ve done this and he keeps falling off the couch-”

Keith is just thrilled to be there.

Just to clarify, I see Shiro as an older brother than a father- I just thought it was funny

Ref:

[mothmanavenue]

Take me back when our world was one block wide

I dared you to kiss me and ran when you tried

Just two kids, you and I

[kyoobie]

So this is love 💕

[imestelomel]

I need more Keith and Lance falling in love in a regency setting someone write it for me please I'm begging

[floydsteeth]

Chev!!!!!!Chevalier!!!!!!! My former favorite pretty boy!!!! :D

[discordiansamba]

scale of AU Keiths from tallest to shortest, for my own amusement

who you are in the dark > temporal shift + galra prince keith au >>>> area 51 au + assassin au + the stars shine a different shine > abyss of memory > all other AUs >> pidge keith ageswap au

[chibi-pix]

This may or may not have been a WIP for a few months.... Anyway! Some Mama Pidge AU, featuring Krolia being the happiest grandma around. She won't accept Keith's claims of not courting Pidge. She wants Darrell for her grandson and Pidge as her daughter-in-law. Also, apparently Krolia kidnaps Darrell a lot. Oops.

Anyway! I hope y'all enjoy this one! Remember, commissions are open and available on my ko-fi. Until next time!

[darnellthefirestarter]

Meet Oliver :]

[shadesofnavy]

If I may ask, what happened to Adams and Pico after Keith's death in the animatronic au? Is2g if you tell me that Adams abandoned Pico soon after I will sob

You're in luck, this is one of those rare AUs where Adams actually doesn't abandon Pico!

Signing up for the security gig was one of the best decisions Adams' had done in his life. It was a job he could do, and the best he was ever paid at the time. Thanks to that he wasn't constantly stressed or busy keeping up or looking for other jobs and fretting over how he was going to make enough for the rent and bills next month. Keith and The Boyfriend's Funkstaraunt had unknowingly changed both Adams' and Pico's lives for the better, and helped Adams grow closer to and notice his son more than he did at the start.

Adams secretly thanked Keith for it--his generosity, his consideration for those who worked for him. There was something different about him that made Adams find himself wanting to get closer, although he believed he was far too out of league to ever reach out to his boss for such a matter. He'd end up regretting not doing so in the long run though.

Adams would find himself unable to step in the Funkstaraunt again after getting the news on Cherry's birthday the day after the incident. Along with the girl, both he and Pico were devastated, and even as the Boyfriend animatronic managed to cheer up the children for a while, Adams could only watch from the sides as little Pico, Cherry and their other kiddy friends enjoyed Boyfriend's company. There was a sense of familiarity when the mascot looked at him for a brief moment, almost unsettling, and that look alone made Adams make his decision. He would not come there ever again, not when the only person who brightened their world had been murdered within those walls.

Little Pico was upset, but didn't complain nonetheless when Adams quit and instead chose to move away to another apartment across the city--this one far better than their old crappy one. He'd miss seeing his friends, but most of all, he'd miss seeing the one person who made his father smile and love for the first time since the boy could ever remember.

[autisticlancemcclain]

The first time Keith sees the boy is a brief flash of eye contact through the classroom door before he’d averted his eyes and looked away. Keith glances around the room to see if anyone else had noticed the boy, but he seems to be the only one, so he dismisses it. Probably just someone from another grade going to the washroom or something.

The second time he sees the boy is thirty-two minutes later, when he knocks on the door. Miss Dindial opens the door, ushering him in, and then asks him why he’s come to visit.

“To come to class,” he says simply, hooking his thumbs on his backpack straps. Keith thinks that it’s strange that he still has it on him, since they were a couple hours into the day already. First recess has even passed.

“I have all my students already,” Miss Dindial responds with a furrowed brow. “I think there might have been a mix up.”

“This is the fourth grade class, right?” the boy clarifies, brown eyes wide and a little nervous. “I wasn’t sure. I couldn’t find it earlier. That’s why I’m late.”

Keith thinks back to the way the boy had walked past the classroom earlier. He tries to remember the boy’s expression, but his mind comes up blank.

“It might be best if you just stay here until I get this sorted with the office,” Miss Dindial decided. “Until then, you can grab a seat — oh, I’m sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t get your name!”

“I’m Leandro Agustín Nuñez Carmen Esposita-McClain. But you can call me Lance.”

Ha. L-A-N-C-E. Keith has never met someone who’s name is an acronym before.

Miss Dindal blinks. Then she smiles, eyebrow raising. “Clever. Now go on ahead and sit down, Lance. You can put your bag by your chair. Right now we’re discussing class rules for this year — you haven’t missed much. Now —”

Keith stops listening, going back to staring out the window. Every so often, he glances three rows over to where the boy — Lance —has chosen to sit, watching him diligently writing on a piece of paper. Keith wonders if he’s really taking notes. He doesn’t know any other fourth graders who take notes. He wonders if Lance is one of those brainy, know-it-all teacher’s pets who tattles all the time.

Something tells him he isn’t.

Lance looks up, catching Keith staring. Keith flushes and looks away. He chances another peek, several minutes later, only to find Lance still looking at him. He smiles, wiggling his fingers in a little wave, then goes back to writing. Keith wonders what that means.

When the lunch recess bell finally rings, he scrambles out like everyone else. He looks for Lance on the playground, but doesn’t see him anywhere. He doesn’t see the boy for the rest of the day, actually.

———

The third time he sees the boy is on the bus the next day.

Keith is the first person on the bus, then a group of eighth-graders who pat him on the head before they go sit at the back. After them, usually, is Ethan from sixth grade. He’s a butthead who always starts fights when no one’s looking and then gets Keith in trouble for it later. Keith hates him. But instead of turning left on Ethan’s street, today, the bus turns right, onto an unpaved road leading to the more rural areas. Keith’s never been down there before.

The bus goes down the road for ten minutes before stopping at an old, run-down house, paint peeling around the edges. It’s the new boy — Lance — who waits at the curb, nervously picking at the ratty sleeve of his shirt. He boards the bus with his head down, mumbling a thanks to the driver before glancing up to find a seat.

When he makes eye contact with Keith, his whole face lights up. He waves excitedly, moving forward, put he pauses suddenly before he sits down, suddenly shy and unsure.

“Um. Hello. I’m in your class, my name’s —”

The bus lurches forward, sending Lance tumbling, right on top of Keith, squishing him into the window.

“Oof,” Keith exhales, but doesn’t shove Lance off of him. He’s not sure why. That would be his usual move.

“Sorry! Dios, I’m so sorry!” Lance squeaks, scrambling up. He kneels on the seat next to Keith, but doesn’t go to a different seat. This pleases Keith, for some reason.

“‘S’okay,” he assures. “You’re basically a feather, anyway.”

Lance giggles, some of the nervousness leaving his posture. Keith thinks that he’d like to make it all go away.

“I’m Lance,” he says sticking out his hand.

“I know,” Keith replies, shaking it.

Lance laughs again, and Keith finds himself grinning.

“I know you know, I saw you smile when I introduced myself yesterday. You have a nice smile. I just introduced myself again because I want to know your name.”

Keith’s ears turn red. Oh.

“Keith,” he blurts out. He’s not sure if he’s more embarrassed about the smile comment or the fact that he forgot to introduce himself, but Lance doesn’t seem to mind.

“That’s a cool name. I’ve never heard it before. Keith.” He puts a lot of emphasis on the ‘ee’ sound, cutting the ‘th’ short so it almost sounds like a ‘t’. Keith likes the way he says it.

“I moved from Cuba earlier this year —“ that explains the accent — “so everything here is kind of strange. English is a very weird language. Why are so many of the words the same? I do not understand it.”

“You don’t seem to have much trouble with it,” Keith observes.

“That’s because I’m smart,” Lance says, but it’s more of a statement of fact. The sky is often blue, the ocean is salty, Lance-from-Cuba is smart. Keith thinks his confidence is admirable. He wonders if public school will crush it to death.

He hopes not.

“Plus, Cuban schools start in August and end in May, so we moved here in May and I had more months to learn it. I was lonely, though.” Lance frowns. Keith wonders what he can do to make him smile again.”

“Why were you lonely?” he asks hesitantly.

“I left all my friends in Cuba, and all the other kids were in school all day, so I haven’t had the chance to make any friends yet. Except for you, of course.” Lance’s face gets unsure again, and he looks at Keith shyly. “If that’s okay with you.”

Keith nods frantically. He’s never had a friend before, and he likes Lance. He’d like to be his friend.

“Great!” Lance chirps, smiling his sunny smile again. Keith can’t help but smile back — it’s almost like Lance’s smiles are contagious. “I’ve never had a friend with a mullet before! I like it, though. You look cool.”

The two of them chat for the rest of the ride — well, mostly Lance. He’s a bit of a motormouth, but Keith doesn’t mind. It means he doesn’t have to talk as much. And Ethan doesn’t bother him when he sees Keith’s not alone, so that’s a bonus.

———

The fourth time he sees Lance is the next day. Lance sits with him, again, and they talk until school. They hang out a recess, too. Keith notices that although Lance never runs out of things to say to him, he’s kinda shy around everyone else. Quiet. Gets stressed if too many people are talking to him, and the screaming that’s a constant on the playground makes him wince. They take to playing make-believe on the field a distance away from the playground — they’re currently playing space defenders.

The next two days are the weekend, so Keith doesn’t see Lance at all. He stays at the group home he’s currently staying in, reading quietly in the tree in the backyard until his foster mother calls him in for bedtime

The fifth time he sees Lance is on Monday, and it’s not much different from Friday. Lance sits with him on the bus and talks his ear off until they get to school, and then they play together every recess. Lance even helps Keith during math, which he appreciates. He finds out Lance is very good with numbers. He has the multiplication table memorized up to fifteen, which Keith thinks is crazy, but Lance admits he can only do that because his dad makes him write them out every day after school.

The sixth time he sees Lance is the day after that, again, on the bus. This time, when Ethan boards after Lance, he doesn’t sneer at Keith and go to to the back with the other older kids. He seats in the seat directly behind them. Keith tenses immediately.

“What’s wrong?” Lance whispers.

“Nothing,” Keith replies tersely. He doesn’t know how to explain the situation to Lance, and besides, there’s not much Lance can do anyway.

Ethan, unfortunately, notices Keith’s tension, and laughs meanly. “Aw, Oliver Twist,” he mocks, “you didn’t think I forgot about you, didja? C’mon now, I’m not like your mommy. I won’t ditch ya. We have lots more time together, isn’t that right, Keith?”

Keith grits his teeth, pressing back the tears burning hotly at his eyes. He’s over the stupid Oliver Twist jokes – Ethan uses them so much they’re boring, now – but he’s embarrassed that he made them in front of Lance. In front of his new friend.

Through the blur of his watery eyes, Keith sees a small hand clench, feels Lance shift as he turns around the face the bully.

“Leave Keith alone,” he hisses.

“Ooooh, Keith!” Ethan laughs, “got your boyfriend protecting you now? Guess you really are a KoGAYne! Ha! Do your foster brothers know you’re a f—”

There’s the heavy thud noise of skin hitting skin, and the sickening sound of a bone crunching. Ethan screams, and the bus lurches to a stop. Keith whips around, eyes wide, only to find Lance glaring down at Ethan, knuckles split and red.

“My nose!” Ethan screams. “The little freak broke my nose!”

The bus driver storms down the aisle, demanding an explanation, and Ethan cries a made-up sob story about how he was just minding his business when the weirdo new kid came out of nowhere and decked him in the face ‘to show who’s boss around here’.

Keith snorts quietly. Yeah, right. Lance is no more a bully than fly to the moon — yesterday, he saw a worm dried up on the pavement and cried so hard Keith was worried he’d throw up. He’d insisted they have a funeral for it.

Regardless, the bus driver believes Ethan, and yanks Lance by the arm to the seat behind her. Keith stares after him with wide eyes, worried, but Lance shrugs and shoots him a wink.

Keith doesn’t see him for the rest of the school day, or the day after that.

———

The seventh time he sees Lance he is relieved. Lance strolls down the middle aisle of the bus, plopping down next to Keith. There are four Hello Kitty bandages on his left hand.

“What happened?” Keith whispers.

Lance grins. “I got suspended, and I’m grounded for two weeks, but that’s it.”

Keith stares at him, a little awed. “You got grounded? For me?”

“Of course!” Lance assures. “You’re my friend! I wasn’t gonna let that butthead say those mean things about you. You’re too cool for him, anyway.”

Keith stops counting after that.

[v-tired-queer]

✨️ Sapphics in Space ✨️

Have some headcanons for this very specific AU that absolutely no one asked for:

All of their names are nicknames that they go by, none of these ladies use their actual names

Keith's name is Akira Kogane, but she started to be called Keith as a joke from the other firefighters in her dad's department, but it kinda just stuck and she secretly liked having a special nickname from the firefighters anyway, even if it was a traditionally male name

Shiro's name is Tatsuo Shirogane, but she and her family are originally from Japan and during kindergarten in America her classmates began to call her Shiro since her name was hard for them to pronounce

Lance's name is Alejandra McClain, but got her nickname from her family when she was younger and always wanted to play soldier or guard. Veronica was the first one to use it and then everyone else started using it, too, and Lance absolutely loved it

Hunk's name is Halia Garrett, and her nickname came from, well, almost everyone. She's always been curvy, but the added on muscles she has gave her her nickname in late middle school

Keith and Lance are adoptive sisters in this AU, where Keith joined the McClain family at 16 after being in foster care since she was 8. Originally, she was there temporarily, but the McClain's adopted her a few months after she'd been in their care

Their one-sided rivalry started in middle school but only got worse after Keith moved in, but settled down after she was adopted and the two actually became friends, but in a I'm-not-going-to-acknowledge-that-I-care-about-you-outloud-but-will-always-protect-you kinda way

Lance teeses Keith about her crush on Shiro, and Keith teeses Lance about her crush on Hunk, and this almost always ends with the closest inanimate object being hurled at each other

Pidge is also cis swapped in this and he and Coran are the only two men on the Castleship and Lord help them, they are terrified

Keith and Acxa are twins, with Acxa being older by about seven minutes. Keith never knew she had a sister, let alone a twin, until she was stranded on a space whale with her long lost mother

Thace and Ulaz are mates, and Regris is their kid. Regris is about five years older than Keith and Acxa, and is their only cousin, as Thace is Krolia's little brother

Kolivan and Antok are in a queer platonic relationship, as Antok is aroace and Kolivan is pan and polyamorus. Kolivan and Krolia end up together and very much in love, eventually getting married

Speaking of, Keith is a lesbian, Shiro is a lesbian, Lance is bi, and Hunk is pan

Hunk as always been a phenomenal baker, as baking is a science, but cooking was something she had to grow into as it's more of an art. With time, practice, and a lot of encouragement from her moms, she became a master chef by the time she was fourteen

The shell on Lance's bracelet was the last shell she grabbed from the beach before her family left Cuba when she was fourteen and moved to the United States for her father's work. She wears that bracelet all of the time, feeling a sense of peace whenever she touches the shell when she's anxious or depressed

Shiro has an older sister named Mayumi, and the two are very close. Their whole family is close, actually, and their parents support both girls when Mayumi comes out as trans and Shiro comes out as a lesbian

Hunk and Lance have been best friends since their freshman year of high school. The two get into a lot of mischief together thanks to Lance, but almost always avoid actually getting into trouble thanks to Hunk

Pidge joined their group when they entered the Garrison and his first thought was "These girls are gonna get me into so much trouble." His second thought was "Lance is crushing so hard, how does Hunk not know??"

Allura absolutely loves to have Girls Nights with the Paladins, where they all get together in her room and have a giant sleepover, complete with blanket forts, unhealthy snacks, teasing, and so much nail painting that Keith is pretty sure she's gotten high on more than one occasion

While Allura is fascinated by Keith and Lance's sisterly relationship, Shiro and Hunk are simply Tired Of The Bickering

Keith is 18; Shiro is 21; Lance is 17; Hunk is 17; Pidge is 16

Shiro and Keith have been best friends since Keith stole Shiro's car and the older bailed her out of Juvie. They got very close while at the Garrison, and Shiro gave Keith her dogtags before leaving for Kerberos. She carries them with her at the bottom of the bags on her hip. There was an unspoken understanding between them that they loved each other, that they wanted to always be together and they cared about each other more than anything, but the time was never right

Shiro and Keith finally start dating while in space after realizing that love doesn't wait for the right time and there's no time like the preasent to let yourself be happy, but Hunk and Lance don't start dating until they get home to Earth because they are, somehow, more awkward about their feelings than Shiro and Keith

Eventually Krolia and Kolivan have a son together and name him Yorak and Keith absolutely adores her baby brother and Shiro absolutely adores seeing Keith with a baby

Kosmo is the bestest teleporting space wolf doggo 💙

[cassiopeiagarcia]

‘Can you go pick Hércules up?’

‘Me? Why me?’

‘Because you’re also his older sister?’

Oh. True. Sometimes Cass forgot her and Hércules weren’t the same age, since they behaved pretty much like twins. Tweedledee and Tweedledum. Or, if you wanted something slightly more national, as the siblings were Spanish… Zipi and Zape.

She nodded in Andro’s direction, watching as she disappeared.

It was weird for Cass to feel that she was so close to Hércules, who was two years her junior, and to see Andro so, so far, even if she was merely a year older. So distant. Like something that you see is there but can’t quite grasp, like grains of sand escaping your closed fist at the Beach, doing it so at an alarming rate…

She sighed. It wasn’t like it was Andro’s fault. The black-haired woman just acted that way because her parents had never really stepped up and proven worthy of the title of mum and dad. Just those words made Cass cringe. Mum. Dad. People you could look at, recognize certain features from: the slanted eyes belonged to Fernando, the crooked grin was clearly María’s, as were the red curls that only Cass had inherited… but the moment they opened their mouths and tried their hardest to strike a conversation: nothing. A blank page, waiting to be filled.

They had shared so many moments, spent so many years in the same home. But they were strangers.

That’s why Andro and her hadn’t moved to the student’s residence hall, and were still living at the family house. Because Hérc had to be in high school for a couple of years more and they couldn’t really do that to him, leave him alone with the ghosts that once had been their loving parents.

Substance abuse did that to you.

She didn’t have class until after lunch, so she went to the library, carrying a pink backpack in one shoulder, filled to the brim with painting tools, with notebooks that she used both for drawing and taking notes, and a pencil case. She didn’t really use her laptop, preferring to do things the traditional way. And… also, she was very scatterbrained. Cass was certain that if she had brought a computer, she would end up the class watching the weirdest YouTube videos about urban legends and random fun facts she had no one to tell them to.

But… that wasn’t completely right, was it?

Cass had always been a loner. For the entirety of high school, and starting university hadn’t really changed that fact. It was not like she didn’t have any friends. She did, just very few of them, and ones she had a pretty impersonal relationship with. Her only real connections in this world were Hércules, Andro and their friend Airi, or so it had been up until a few months ago, when she had met Alex.

Curious circumstances, that which had brought them together. A group of students from the Communications major had appeared a random day in Cass’ drawing class, asking if someone could help them with a quick issue. They were doing a video on the university, and needed a person who could do an illustration for the cover. Something that would draw attention, something that would make people immediately click on it, but that was true to the spirit of the institution.

Luck had it, Cass had just had a bad experience with one of her teachers, because he had criticized one of her drawings for being too shocking, too attention grabbing, and had asked her to stay in line because the dean doesn’t approve of this sort of things…

By the end of that day, those Communications students had a digital drawing sent to their emails, greatly inspired by 1984, George Orwell’s book: a picture of the university dean in a huge TV, sporting a mustache not unlike Hitler’s, and dozens of students dressed in prison uniforms, crying and begging and throwing money in the air, all because they wanted a piece of paper in which the word ‘Degree’ could be read.

Of course, they hadn’t chosen it. But Alex and her had become friends ever since.

Cass wouldn’t say it out loud, but she liked him. She liked him very, very much. But he was not into her – that much was painfully obvious. They had even slept together a few times, after parties that had gotten out of control… but just slept. They had both woken up in each other arms, their bodies still covered with the same number of clothes they had the night before. There had been some moments something deep inside of Cass had screamed yes, yes, yes, now is the time, first kiss… but no. Nothing.

It was fine, however. Having him as a friend was better than not having him in her life at all.

And it was not like she was going to confess out loud and ruin the whole thing.

And yet… the idea of it was always lingering, floating around her, especially when she saw him. Like now, in the library, with his headphones on, hunched over a computer, working on some project whose deadline was approaching at vertiginous speed, probably.

Cass approached him from behind. She thought about scaring him, but if she did, she would undoubtedly get scolded by the librarian or any of the many students around. So she contented herself with lightly tapping his shoulder, giving him a kiss in the cheek before plummeting to the chair next to him, leaving her backpack on the table.

‘Guess who has to go pick up her little brother after class?’ Cass pointed to herself, rolling her eyes. ‘Andro can’t. Probably sleeping with some substitute teacher, or something.’ She chuckled, moving her body so that it was closer to his, placing her chin on his shoulder to get a view of his laptop’s screen.

‘What are you doing?’

Her fingers, covered in dry paint, were now playing with his blond curls. Anyone who saw them would have thought they were a couple… better, Cass thought to herself, because she knew the moment Alex found a girlfriend would be a very, very, very sad day for her.

Cass wasn’t stupid. He was incredibly handsome. He was kind, generous, caring, intelligent, had a tragic backstory, a beautiful singing voice and played almost any instrument. He was about to be done with university, too. All of these things made him the perfect boy, and a lot of other girls seemed to think so, too.

She had heard them whisper around the corridors. In parties, they always tried to approach him. Why, exactly, he preferred spending time with her than with them, Cass didn’t quite know, but she was thankful for it.

‘Did you listen to Vessel’s show yesterday?’

Vessel was the host of a radio show in the university radio. He ran the night slot, where he talked about random stuff, played some weird and cryptic music. Cass had kind of started listening to it as a joke, but now, she didn’t miss a day. She hate-listened to it, because she disagreed with most of the young man’s opinions about music. How dared he play Katatonia at three in the morning, when she was studying for exams, instead of something a little bit more cheerful, a little bit more… alive!?

‘I called again. He probably hates me by now.’ Cass showed her shark-like grin, full of teeth, cheeky, and slightly lopsided. ‘I just wish I knew who he was! He does have a nice voice. I would love to share a coffee with him.’

Cass shrugged. She had told this to Airi and Andro earlier that morning, and both had agreed that next time she called she needed to ask him on a date.

‘But Alex…’

‘This has been going on for months! Are you going to confess?’

‘And ruin our friendship? Nuh uh. Plus, I’ve told you this, I don’t think he likes me…’

‘I mean, you have a point. If he did, he would have tried something with you already. All the more reason to ask this Vessel guy out.’

Maybe she actually would. Why not? She didn’t think she would like him as much as she liked Alex, but well… perhaps she could try, see if something came out of it.

@j-ofspades

[jiveyuncle]

Lance and Allura besties makes my heart full 🥹💕 Figure the team probably had a chill day and let loose. This exchange probably happened sometime after Allura sensed Lance’s mark on Keith and before the identity reveal.

This AU is always so much fun for me. Sure and Indelible is my baby and I love it dearly okay 😭💕

[These are just stills from a Reel I made on insta. You can view it with the matching audio HERE.]

[littlexdeaths]

when band practice doesn’t go as planned…

older brother’s best friend eddie x fem reader

warnings: keith is the unnamed freak in this au, alluding to some some spicy activities so 18+!

it’s a recipe for disaster masterlist.

“dude, when did your sister get so hot?”

eddie’s head lifts at the mere mention of you, but his jaw clenches when he notices that gareth is all but oogling you from inside the garage.

you’re at the end of the driveway, dressed in a red and white gingham bikini top and the shortest pair of shorts imaginable— washing your car. why you’d chosen to do this during their scheduled band practice is obvious to him, but it has your brother groaning in annoyance.

“jesus, don’t talk about her like that. that’s my baby sister.”

sid throws a sideways glare his friend’s way, to which gareth just holds up his hands in defense.

“i mean… he’s not wrong,” keith says under his breath which earns him a guitar pick to the forehead.

“it is a tad distracting,” jeff chimes in.

“oh for christ’s sake—- hey! mouse!”

you perk up at the nickname, resting your soapy hands on your hips. “why can’t you go to the damn car wash like a normal person?” sid shouts your way, oblivious to the way your eyes meet eddie’s behind your sunglasses.

or the hint of a smirk that’s tugging at the corner of your glossed lips.

“and why can’t you close the garage door if i’m too distracting?” you fire back, enjoying the way the rest of the guys quickly divert their attention away from you.

your brother is a little stunned by your response, not used to hearing you talk back to him. instead of trying to reason with you, he just flips you the bird. to which you mirror him with a playful grin. when they go back to practicing and you return to washing your car, eddie feels like he can breathe again.

he, by some miracle was able to hold his tongue during that entire interaction, as he knew he’d say something he’d regret later if he opened his big mouth.

because if your brother had any idea of what he planned to do to you when practice was over— he’d be a dead man.

but try as he may, eddie can’t keep his eyes off you the rest of practice.

he’s so distracted that he fumbles through most of the songs in their set list. and he completely fucks up his big solo when glances up to see you leaning across the hood of your car. with your ass perched in the air as you guide the soapy sponge along the metal frame. it’s safe to say the rest of the guys are throughly annoyed once they wrap things up.

eddie is just grateful that his guitar has been able to hide the raging boner he’s been sporting for the last half hour. or he’d really be fucked. but as you glance up at him innocently from under your lashes, eddie knows better.

and when he bends you over his lap later, it’s more than deserved.