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britcision · 2 years ago

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I’m spoiling you all, really, the last chapter was just last night

Buuuuut it’s WIP Wednesday, so enjoy!

Chapters in the tag

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Pay Attention To Me Dammit

“Okay,” Danny sucked in a deep breath, surfacing from Jason’s suit to two deeply concerned pairs of blue eyes, “let’s get somewhere private real fast.”

Tucker snickered, helpfully extracting both him and Sam from Jason’s arms.

“I can’t fucking believe you forgot Vlad was coming,” he sighed, voice still shaking as he gave Jason a once over.

Sam, sucking in huge gasps of air, pinched his arm as she straightened.

“Oh shut up, not like you brought him up either,” she wheezed, still grinning.

“Vladdie’s gonna be fucking heartbroken,” Tucker sighed happily, shoving Danny towards a corner.

People were definitely looking. And not just the other four bats; regular guests were watching behind fans, hands, or just deadass staring.

Tim took over, catching Danny’s wrist and pulling the other boy after him. They weren’t that far off the same height.

“So, should I take it that “Vlad” being here is a good thing or a bad thing?” He asked, pulling on his best socialite smile, heading for one of the hall exits instead.

“Side room?” Jason wondered, guiding Sam and Tucker quickly after him. Tim nodded without looking back.

“They shouldn’t be busy yet. We can talk without being overheard,” he added to the other three, who obligingly sped up.

“As for your question, Vlad being here is… probably gonna end up being nothing?” Danny offered, doing his best smiles for the rich assholes they passed.

Sam kicked him in the ankle.

“Wait til we’re alone,” she said quietly, hustling Tucker along.

Unsurprisingly to Jason and Tim, the first side room already had four other people sitting in it, on two extremely plush couches, angled at right angles and facing a fireplace. Before Danny could turn to find another, Steph caught his hand and pulled him in.

“Hi, Stephanie Brown, friend of the Waynes, we’re gonna talk all about Jason’s adorable little crush on you but first, what did you need privacy for?” She asked, eyes bright with innuendo.

Danny grinned right back, already liking this one, and relaxed when Tim and Jason guided the others in and shut the door.

“Well, I guess you all being here means no one has to be found later… and the more eyes the better in this case,” he mused, looking over the other teens and young adult.

Dick waved at Tucker, grinning sarcastically.

“Danny. And Danny,” he added, nodding to Danny himself.

Sam hid a snicker behind her hand.

“That’s what you went with?” She asked Tucker, and he grinned entirely unrepentantly back.

“What, Jason said he told them who I was,” he said in his very best innocent voice.

Before they could get going, Jason raised a hand.

“I’m gonna guess there was a reason you snuck Danny in other than getting back at Sam’s parents? Vlad Masters,” he prodded, dropping to sit on one of the plush royal blue couches next to Cass.

All three Amity Parkers sobered immediately.

“Right… yeah, we should sit for this,” Tucker agreed, glancing around the room. Seating for nine was going to be tight, but… well, he may no longer be a teenager, but he was still seating-flexible.

Introductions were made as people juggled themselves around, finally ending with Cass, Jason, and Danny on one sofa, Sam, Steph, and Damian on the other, and Dick and Tim perching on windowsill or sofa arm respectively. Tucker took the floor.

Once movement stilled, Danny exchanged glances with Sam and Tucker. Maybe hoping that for once, he wouldn’t be doing the explaining?

He shoulda known better.

Sighing, he ran a hand through his hair and didn’t lean intentionally into Jason’s side. It was good to have another halfa around, that was all.

“Sooooo… cliff’s notes? Vlad Masters is a shady millionaire who uses some seriously unethical shit to make predatory deals with other millionaires to steal their fortune. We think he’s here to make his way to that final “b”, byyyy stealing your dad’s fortune,” he explained quickly, glancing around at the Waynes and adjacents he could see.

They did not look convinced.

Tim frowned, leaning forward on his knee and steepling his fingers.

“If you have proof of that, shouldn’t someone already be looking into him?” He asked contemplatively, eyes fixed on Danny’s face.

It was. Weirdly intense.

Fighting down discomfort, Danny shrugged.

“So remember when I said deeply unethical? Think like, mind control. He’s hard to investigate.”

“You make him sound like a supervillain,” Dick noted from the windowsill.

Sam raised a pointed eyebrow at him.

“Duh, we said “millionaire”.”

“Hey,” Tim protested, leaning around Steph to frown at her, “I’m a millionaire.”

She stared him dead in the eye while Steph snickered.

“I said what I said.”

“And so are you,” he shot back sharply, eyes narrowing.

Sam didn’t blink.

“I work at a plant nursery my parents don’t approve of and pay my own tuition. My family are millionaires; I’m not,” she said plainly.

Tim puffed up his cheeks, but let them deflate silently. Jason definitely wasn’t smirking.

Cass leaned forwards suddenly, eyes darting around the room searchingly before settling on Sam.

“Masters. Your connection?” She asked softly, the others stilling to hear her.

Both of Sam’s brows rose, but she didn’t comment at hearing the other girl’s voice for the first time. She looked to Danny instead, raising an eyebrow.

Danny blew out a huff of air, ruffling his bangs.

“So… we… well…”

“He wants to fuck Danny’s mom and adopt Danny,” Tucker said bluntly, tipping his head back to hit Danny’s knees and grinning up at him.

Danny poked him in the forehead, but didn’t refute it.

“Yeah. So he’s kinda been my problem for a while. And he’s the mayor of Amity Park now? Is he still?” He asked, looking from one to the other.

Sam shrugged.

“Think so. I haven’t heard about anyone new.”

The Waynes and co were all kind of just… staring at them. Danny gave them jazz hands.

“And now he’s heeeeeere. He probably won’t make any moves if he knows I’m around, but we should keep an eye on him around Mr Wayne anyway.”

“And we can add him to the fuckery list, along with Sam’s parents,” Tucker added with a very satisfied smile.

It drew all eyes his way, ranging from intrigued to sceptical.

“How?” Steph asked, eyes bright.

Tucker waved a hand over the room.

“Black hair. Blue eyes. For one thing, Mr Drake-Wayne is even the same height, so if he sees you from behind, he could be confused. Dick’s not far off either. And best of all,” he added while the others did quick visual comparisons, decidedly smug, “we hint that Bruce is thinking of accepting Danny as an intern. Step one of Wayne Adoption.”

Sam’s eyes lit up with evil glee.

“Oh he’d do his fucking nut if you cozied up to someone richer than him, Danny,” she gasped, hands bouncing on her lap.

Danny hesitated for a moment, glancing over at Jason. Who was looking back, gears clearly turning. Seeing that he had Danny’s eye, he leaned in quickly.

“Vlad Masters would be Vlad Plasmius, yes?” He asked in a low voice. He’d scanned the database more than read in detail, but he knew the basics.

One very important basic.

Vlad was the other halfa.

And Vlad could sense other halfas. For a hot second Danny very nearly took off out of the room, ready to go find and kick Vlad’s ass and keep him far, far away from Jason.

He didn’t realise he’d clenched his fists until one of them was held in a large, hot hand. Slowly, shakily he uncurled them, checking for blood in the deep half moon crevices now dug in his palms.

Nothing. He was fine.

“Danny?” Jason asked softly, and Danny looked up to his face. There was something in his eyes, something familiar in the way they flashed a deep, sudden green when their eyes met.

Yeah, Jason’s Obsession was fucking definitely Protection, at least in part. Danny clasped his hand quickly, half worried Jason was gonna do just what he’d had to try so hard not to.

Would it have been that bad if Jason was just his friend, not his knight?

There was no way to know anymore.

Covering Jason’s hands in both of his, he gave Jason the best smile he could.

“I’m fine. But yeah, that’s him. And we… should probably also have a private word.” Because there was this sudden, very nasty little temptation curling through him.

“Would this private word have anything to do with Jason almost going full feral?” Dick asked with a studied innocence that had at least a master’s degree.

Which was when Danny noticed that the rest were all staring at them. At their clasped hands. At Jason’s still a little too green eyes.

Jason grimaced, fully aware of what they must have seen. He tamped the green down firmly, pushing against the wave of protect-protect-PROTECT the pit was damn near screaming inside him.

Wasn’t entirely sure it was only the pit.

Watching Danny tense up like that, clearly in the throes of fight or flight, pulled at something primal inside him.

Jason didn’t know who Vlad Masters was, what he looked like, what he was doing, but he was fully willing to throw him out of the building by the neck if Danny would relax even a little.

He threatens my king, something growled in the back of his mind and Jason’s hands jerked.

That was fucking new. And not fucking welcome.

He looked to Dick instead, giving him a strained smile. It was the best he could do right now.

“Yeah,” he admitted, not fully comfortable with how strained his voice sounded. How tight his throat felt.

Had the pit tried to use his mouth? Make him speak?

Just the thought made him want to puke, but he pushed that down too. He had shit to do today, and the pit wasn’t gonna ruin it.

“I told you he was helping me with the pit,” he added when Dick still looked calculatedly calm. Definitely not about to tackle him to the ground if he moved too suddenly.

Fuck Jason hoped Dick never tried. When they fought for fun, for training, sure Dick could hand him his ass six ways from Sunday. But when the green took over…

He didn’t want to hurt his brother. None of his brothers, ever again.

Except maybe a little bit psychologically.

“Fenton’s eyes changed too,” Damian said sharply, and oooh absolutely nothing in Jason liked that accusatory tone.

Not about Danny. Not about his king.

His head snapped around to glare at the youngest and knew his eyes had gone green again from the way the others recoiled. All but Sam and Danny. And Damian himself, suicidal little gremlin.

All but Cass, who slipped herself carefully but immovably back into his lap, hooking her feet into the backs of his knees and hands on his cheeks. Pinning him in place.

Making him look at her, not Damian.

She studied his expression intensely, her eyes saying more than even Dick could manage.

And there was a hand in his again, gently soothing across his fingers until his knuckles opened, and Cass let him look away to Danny. Doing just what Jason had done less than a minute ago.

Danny didn’t have to tell his secrets to anyone he didn’t want to. Not now, not the first time they met, not before he trusted them.

Anger-protect-not their business

And Danny smiled back, all gentle and soft, and Jason settled back, relaxing muscles he hadn’t noticed tensing.

Reassurance-calm-safe safe safe-trust

If Jason trusted them, Danny would too. And if that didn’t sting something right in his chest.

Danny cleared his throat, turning back to the rest of the room and giving them a slightly tighter smile.

“Yeah. I. Uh… I was exposed to the Lazarus pits? About a year before Jason was. So I know what it’s like when it gets too strong.”

Half truths at best, but close enough to be believed. To make sense.

Close enough that no one except Damian, tactless boy wonder, would ever ask.

“Only the dying can survive exposure to the pits,” the boy snapped, eyes sharp as he studied Danny in a new light.

Jason’s hands nearly clenched again, but this time Danny’s was in the way. Protecting Danny meant not crushing Danny’s hand.

Good loophole.

“The dying and the dead,” Danny agreed placidly, calm just barely tinted by amusement.

Jason closed his eyes, let himself focus on breathing in Danny’s aura.

Was that a hint of trouble-fun-plans plans mayhem?

Damian squinted at Danny for another long moment, then nodded sharply and sat back. Steph punched him.

“Damian, you can’t just go asking people if they’ve died,” she hissed in a comically loud whisper.

“It was relevant to the conversation!” Damian insisted, immediately sitting back up to defend his honour. Steph tweaked his nose and he properly growled, gearing up to tackle her.

“It was rude, Baby Bat,” Dick coaxed gently, coming from the windowsill to the couch to scoop Damian into his arms.

The only one of them who could have done it and survived. Damian glowered up at him too, then folded his arms and scowled at the floor.

Dire retributions would surely be incoming.

“Hey, it’s cool,” Danny caused, grinning along with the others now that the tension had broken. “He just wanted to know I’m not gonna hurt Jason, right?”

All eyes turned back to Damian, who squinted suspiciously at Danny again. Jason was ready for the flare of protectiveness this time.

Danny was fine. He could handle the demon brat, even if Dick didn’t have him in hand already.

Jason didn’t want to hurt his brother.

Which caused a different, confusing flare of protectiveness because what he needed to protect Damian from was himself, and the self same flares.

He stifled a chuckle that would probably only make things worse.

Finally Damian huffed, turning away into Dick’s arms.

“Tt. Ridiculous. I only wished to be sure you spoke the truth,” he snapped, and the room resettled.

Danny raised both hands, grinning, and Cass shuffled to rest her ear over Jason’s heart.

“Okay?” She asked softly, moving her feet from his pressure points. Jason brought his other arm up and around her, squeezing gently.

“Yeah, I’m good. Thanks,” he replied just as quietly, resting his cheek in her hair.

“Well, this does also kinda simplify things,” Danny added with a chuckle, leaning back against the couch. “I can just tell all of you; Vlad’s also been ecto…. Pit contaminated. And we can sense each other, so he’s going to know Jason is too.”

That geared the bats back up, all turning back to stare at Danny. Who grinned utterly wickedly.

“So Vladdie gets to be on the rare and extremely valued double fuckery list.”

“Is he gonna try and do anything to Jason?” Steph asked sharply, posture tensing towards the door like it might open at any second.

Tucker shrugged, moving back to lean against the couch next to Danny’s legs. He’d wisely made himself scarce when there was a chance either halfa would make a break for it.

“Like Danny said, Vlad probably won’t try anything if he knows we’re around? He can’t do his mind control on Danny so he’s gotta keep it in his pants, even if he’d rather not.”

Sam brightened, catching on to where the boys were going.

“But because Vlad is like… Obsessed with Danny for being like him, there’s a chance he’ll wanna try and adopt Jason too,” she said slowly, her smile becoming full and wicked.

“And since we’re already planning to have me and Jason caught in some indelicate way to upset the Mansons,” Danny added, utterly self satisfied, “we can fry his brain thinking he can only adopt one of us.”

“And that’s after we make him play Find The Real Danny,” Tucker jumped in, grinning broadly, “because it’s not specific enough to track a single person in a busy room. Do you guys do accents?”

Tim and Dick exchanged glances and shrugged.

“Yours wouldn’t be hard,” Tim pointed out, a smirk pulling across his own face as he nodded to Danny.

“I’d like to know why we’re also fucking with the Mansons though?” Dick asked, raising an eyebrow at Sam. Who shrugged.

“They refused to let me bring my girlfriend as a plus one. So we’re gonna ruin me for men and make them think twice next time.”

“Wait, so you’re not dating Danny?” Steph asked, proving she had been hovering during their little meet and greet.

None of the Amity Parkers seemed surprised. Not by her listening in, anyway.

Danny flushed cherry red, Tucker burst out laughing, and Sam smirked.

“Not since high school,” she said casually. Danny groped around for a throwable pillow but came up short.

For some reason, Jason felt absolutely no need to protect his king from some righteous bullying. Another fun loophole.

Must be the lack of potential stabbing.

Dick grinned suddenly, now leaning on the other arm of the couch from Tim.

“Okay, but we definitely don’t tell this part to Bruce,” he said eagerly, beckoning all the others closer. “If Jason’s job is to flirt with Sam and defile Danny, we were also here to meet Danny as Jason’s friend.”

“Let Bruce think Danny’s leading you both on!” Steph finished, clapping her hands and cackling. “Oh it’s perfect!”

Sam cackled along with her, turning a much warmer smile on the other girl.

“Oh, my parents would love to trash talk Danny to him too, they’ve probably already hurried off to let him know I’m “eligible”,” she agreed with the most sarcastic air quotes Jason had ever seen.

Steph lurched immediately to her feet.

“We’re gonna miss it! Okay, so our first task is to make sure Vlad knows Danny is here, right? So he knows not to try anything on Bruce,” she added to confirm, looking between the Amity Parkers.

Danny frowned thoughtfully, touching his lower lip. Jason tried not to focus on it.

“He should know as soon as we get within proximity of each other… so probably once we’re both in the big room?”

Tim nodded, rising along with Steph, the fire of planning in his eyes.

“Sam and Jason need to be seen to be flirting, but Danny doesn’t have to be with them. Dick and I can wander through the crowd, keeping an eye out for Masters but keeping our faces turned away. Cass, can you help with that?”

Cass nodded, sitting straighter and resting her head on Jason’s shoulder instead.

“Yes. Can be Dick’s eyes, signal you both.”

Tim nodded, turning to point to Damian.

“And if you can get as close to Masters as you can, you can signal us too if he gets too close to Bruce or us.”

Damian nodded, all ruffled feathers smoothing as he straightened his suit.

“I shall watch him for any suspicious moves. I can also run interference if he approaches Father.”

Steph nodded happily and clapped her hands, pointing both at Tucker.

“And you can join me in spying on the Mansons and recording them if they talk to Bruce, for the rest of us to enjoy later!” She declared triumphantly.

Tucker shot to his feet, grinning broadly.

“Yeah! And if they catch us we can tell them Jason and Sam are doing something, or ask if they’ve seen Danny,” he agreed, bouncing on his toes. He stuck a hand out in front of him. “Ready?”

Steph slapped her palm down on the back of his hand.

“Ready!”

The room now filled with purpose, everyone came to join Tucker, sticking their hands in in a circle, even as Damian complained about “ridiculous social rituals”.

No one else seemed to mind, tossing their hands into the air as they all whispered “BREAK!”, not wanting to be heard from the hallway.

As the room emptied, Danny hung back, catching Jason’s eye.

“So I know you’re probably not ready to talk about this,” he said softly as Sam lingered in the doorway, her back conspicuously to them, “but I just need to ask you if there was electricity involved when you died.”

Jason felt his whole body tense, less than pleasant memories rushing to the fore. Broken bones. A blade in his leg. Explosion.

No electricity.

He could see the strain on Danny’s face as his mind cleared, and shook his head.

“No. Why?” He asked warily, suddenly very concerned.

Danny made a face that did precisely nothing to lessen it, looking away.

“Because there was when I died, and Vlad knows it. And he… he can control electricity. But you’ll be fine, well, other than the usual “oh no a bad guy is shooting me with electricity”, right?”

Danny was babbling now, clearly trying to distract himself, but all Jason could see was pure, pulsing green. Before he knew he’d moved he had an arm wrapped firmly around slender shoulders, crushing Danny to his chest.

He didn’t need to be told that reminders of a ghost’s death wounds could be debilitating. He’d have known without the data. Without the catch in Danny’s voice.

“If he ever lays a fucking finger on you again I’ll fucking kill him,” he growled, his voice coming out almost as low as his helmet modulator.

Danny stiffened for just a moment in his grasp, then relaxed against him.

“I mean, I can handle myself,” he protested weakly, voice somewhat muffled in Jason’s jacket, “but I’m not gonna fight you on that one, Jay.”

It soothed something inside him, something hot in the center of his chest that burned at just the thought of anyone hurting the man in his arms.

Attacking him. Using the pain and trauma of his death against him. Attacking his king.

A gentle hand soothed up and down his spine.

Safe-protected-I’m okay-safe

It took a minute before Jason could bring himself to let go, smiling sheepishly down at Danny.

“Sorry. Guess I’m… uh, not used to dealing with anything other than rage from the pit,” he explained weakly.

It felt stupid, comparing something as soft as the urge to protect to those bloodthirsty rampages. That didn’t make it any less true.

Danny shrugged, rolling out his shoulders and grinning up at him.

“Hey, like I said. Shoulda seen me when I first changed. Anyway, shall we go make Vlad’s night a living hell?” He asked wickedly, a cheeky smile on his face.

Jason nodded and made for the door, giving Sam a small smile of appreciation. She looked between the two of them and snickered.

“Yeah, rumpling you both up in a closet’s gonna be easy breezy,” she said lazily, pushing the door open again. “You should trade ties.”

Danny’s hand flew to his throat and he chuckled softly, then shook both of his hands out.

“Okay… time to go make sure Vladdie knows I’m around,” he sighed, cracking his neck. Like he was limbering up for a fight?

Jason cocked a brow, taking Sam’s arm.

“What are you gonna do?” He asked as they moved out into the hall, back towards the ballroom.

Danny shot him a quick grin.

“Expand my aura to cover the whole room. He’ll know I’m flexing, and he won’t be able to miss it. Should help confuse him about Tim and Dick too, since the whole place is gonna feel like me,” he added, and Jason grinned.

Alright, that was gonna be a useful trick. Time to see that famous Ghost King aura put to the test.

He wasn’t really expecting to feel a change really. He was close enough that Danny’s aura was still brushing gently over his, soothing the pit that he was right there.

Ready and close if Jason needed to protect him.

And then Danny’s brows furrowed for a moment, he flexed his shoulders back, and Jason was surrounded in pulsing waves of DANNY-DANNY-DANNY.

He didn’t know he’d stumbled until Sam caught him, her hand small on his chest right over the thudding pulse of his heart.

He barely felt it. All he could see, all he could hear, all he could feel was the raw power surging out of the man beside him.

Feeling Frostbite in the Far Frozen had been overwhelming. This… this rewrote the beat of his heart, crawled with his breath into his lungs, curled around every deep and intimate part of himself.

Everything was right in the world. His King was here. The pit fucking sang in his veins.

Aaaand Jason hadn’t been this hard in dress pants since he’d been an excitable teenager who couldn’t help it. Eyes closing, he swayed back against the hallway wall.

He could just barely feel Sam’s hand still on his chest, a grounding point as he sucked in deep breaths. Heard her snicker as the ringing in his ears began to die down.

“You’re getting better at that, Danny,” she noted, and Jason hissed.

This could have been worse? More? How?

And then Danny’s hand was at his shoulder too and he didn’t need to open his eyes to know it. Knew the touch, the feel, the way the pit surged warmth to the spot.

Heard Danny’s soft voice as though it were being broadcast straight into his head.

“Hey, you okay?” He asked quietly, and Jason honestly wasn’t sure.

Think about Bruce’s old underwear commercials. Jane Austen novels. Alfred’s expression if Jason ruined his good pants this fucking early into a party.

Later, maybe, it’d give a flare of authenticity but Danny almost certainly wouldn’t be down.

Danny. There was someone here who wanted to hurt Danny.

Jason’s eyes snapped open and he sucked in another deep breath. It was still redolent of Danny’s aura, still cupping him on every side, but he had a purpose now. A job to do.

He managed a slightly strained smile.

“‘M fine. It’s just a shock.” He cleared his throat, reaching down to tug at the front of his trousers as subtly as he could. “Is, uh… is it always like that?”

Danny looked confused for a moment, still concerned, but it was easier to miss the pulsing beat of his emotions now. Easier to focus.

He’d protect Danny’s feelings too, but he couldn’t do that if he was overwhelmed.

Finally Danny shrugged, glancing out towards the ballroom.

“I wouldn’t know… it doesn’t feel all that different to me. Just like everyone in the room is now inside my personal space,” he added, pulling a face.

Jason stared at him for a long moment, wondering how the hell he was going to ask. If he even wanted to mention the effects it had had - was still having, cleaning guns, Alfred in lace, Vlad was still here.

Nope.

Just. Nope. Not opening that can of worms today.

If Danny didn’t know that just feeling him all around him like that was gonna send Jason to horny jail, Jason was just never gonna tell him. And if Vlad had an even similar reaction, Jason would double kick his ass.

Hauling himself away from the wall, Jason cleared his throat again and fixed his jacket.

“Alright… I’m good. Shall we?” He asked Sam, offering her his arm this time. She gave him a quick up and down, raised a brow, but didn’t comment.

“Sure you are,” she chuckled softly, taking his arm with a reluctant half smile, turning back to Danny. “Are you gonna stick close, or do you wanna recon Vlad?”

Danny considered it for a moment, moving with them as they returned to the hall. Then he shrugged.

“I might go take a peek, but if I see your parents I’ll third wheel back on over. You guys should go mosey,” he added, waving a hand quickly.

Jason nodded, tucking Sam closer, turned back to the room, and… froze. Sam, utterly unaffected, made it a couple steps forward before she noticed and turned back, frowning.

“Hey, what’s up?” She asked in a low whisper, eyes flicking around them.

Good fucking question.

Jason closed his eyes, sucking in a slow breath and trying to work out what had shot down his spine like cold water. Brows furrowed, he tried to will his feet to move.

Took a step backwards and opened his eyes again, frowning back at Sam.

“Alright, I didn’t mean to do that,” he hissed, head turning automatically… to where Danny had taken a couple of steps away.

Green surged below his skin, asking what the fuck he thought he was doing. Abandoning his post. Leaving his king.

There was someone here who’d hurt him, who’d used his fucking death against him, and Jason was gonna what? Not be close enough to break his fingers for thinking it?

Eyes closed for a moment, Jason weighed the odds he could just push this down and keep going. Felt Sam tuck closer. They did have a whole ass plan…

Felt a sudden wash of concern-what’s wrong-protect from the surrounding warmth of Danny.

And sighed, shaking his head, pulling Sam with him after Danny. With each step the green sung, a deep satisfaction not his own rising inside.

He gave Danny a sheepish smile and a shrug.

“I don’t think I can leave you alone. Not if he’s here,” he added a little more quietly, well aware they were being watched once again.

Confusion flashed across Danny’s face for a moment, then he groaned and slapped himself in the forehead.

“Fucking Clockwork… alright, we stick together. Tim and Dick will have plenty of fun with Vlad anyway,” he said, grin slowly spreading again as he tucked himself in to Sam’s other side.

“And we can have more fun with my parents,” Sam pointed out innocently, scanning the crowd around them. Shot them both a sidelong glance each, half smirking. “And I get two lots of cute arm candy.”

Danny and Jason turned automatically to look each other over, Jason’s grin broadening as Danny’s cheeks flushed.

Dick had said he looked a treat in this suit. Must have been right about something.

Suddenly Danny’s aura was all very studious and concentrated nothing to see here.

Jason bit the inside of his lip to keep from laughing, letting his eyes trail a little slower over his king’s frame.

Wherever Danny had gotten his suit from, they knew a thing or two about tailoring. It fit him well, emphasising the lean lines of his legs and torso. Didn’t quite square off his shoulders.

Jason still hadn’t had much practice with projecting his own emotions back, but he had the feeling his… appreciation got through when Danny’s blush darkened.

Grinning down at Sam, Jason patted her hand.

“Only if my code name’s Gummy Bear.”

A startled laugh from Danny was the reaction he’d been going for. Sam’s sudden, utterly wicked smile was a lot more concerning.

“Alright. Danny’s is gonna be Jawbreaker,” she decided, her gaze darting briefly down to Jason’s lips as she smirked.

Jason looked away quickly, his own cheeks uncomfortably warm as Danny choked.

———————

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#dp x dc #dpxdc #danny fenton dead and loving it #dead on main #wip wednesday

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neurodiversitysci · 2 years ago

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Question for Readers: How do real Neurodivergent people exercise?

Hi, neurodivergent friends, especially those of you with ADHD/executive dysfunction, or dyspraxia. Do you regularly exercise or move your body? If so, what do you do? How often? How do you stay consistent, or deal with being inconsistent?

Knowing how real neurodivergent people exercise (not just neurotypical influencers/self help types) would help me immensely. Just like with cleaning and organizing, we often have to do things in a different way, and it doesn’t necessarily look like what you see in magazines and the like. I want to broaden my mind to the full possibilities of what exercising can look like.

Why I’m Asking:

I’m no longer young enough for my body to stay basically functional without regular physical exercise. I need to do regular physical activity that involves bearing my own body weight and raising my heart rate.

I need to build up my endurance and develop some arm muscles so basic life tasks like grocery shopping don’t wear me out.

I also need physical activity to reconnect me to my body. Pretty much everything I do (like reading, writing, and interacting with friends online) keeps me still so long I forget I have a body, and then it’s hard to start moving again.

I also need physical activity that involves going outside, and people watching or even interacting with people, to connect me to the world and remind me that I’m real. You know, all those mental health benefits of moving and being in nature.

I also need a way to burn off those intense emotions that can stick around for hours, instead of distracting myself from them. And perhaps, burn off some anxiety/restlessness/hyperactivity, while I’m at it.

The Assets

I like walking at a moderate pace and could do for hours.

I love yoga, especially of the slow paced type where you focus on how you feel in a pose and intensify it to the maximum point you can stand.

I love dancing to music, including fast paced songs with a strong beat.

The Challenges:

Low endurance, physical weakness: I need something low impact and appropriate for someone with low endurance and something like exercise induced asthma.

ADHD Inconsistency and Discouragement: I need goals specific enough to actually do the exercise, yet flexible enough that I won’t get discouraged and stop. I need to either not trigger my perfectionism, or work around it.

Executive Dysfunction: I suck at building habits, especially keeping them consistently. These days, I’m so discouraged from years of frustration with trying to build habits that I rarely try at all. Also, I have difficulty setting SMART goals around exercise especially because I’m not very knowledgeable about what’s healthy and realistic (and am exhausted by the prospect of wading through “bro science” to find useful info).

History of dyspraxia; lack of confidence in my physical body and embarrassed about being physically unfit in front of other people.

Heat sensitivity -- it was almost painfully exhausting going outside last summer, which limited the opportunities I had to exercise.

How would you deal with challenges like these?

If you have similar challenges, how do you deal with them?

Any ideas for what sort of exercises to do, how often, etc.?

Why Reply?

I will try any suggestions that seem promising. So, you might be able to help me.

I plan to write about what works for me, what doesn’t, and why. Maybe that information will help someone else in a similar situation. If so, you might help other people, too.

Thank you!

85 notes · View notes

pechebeche · 1 year ago

Note

Peach!! As a creative writing expert and dear friend of mine, do you have any tips for writing original fiction??? I’ve been entertaining the idea of starting my own story but I can’t be assed to finish anything longer than 5,000 words on a good day. Also, it’s been a hot minute since I’ve taken a creative writing class so… help a fella out? If you can! Love ya and hope you’re doing well

jude this is So sweet thank you for your accolades, they are well appreciated <33

so there's a couple of pieces of advice i have to give about motivation. disclaimer, writing is ultimately a very individualized process and if you find something else that works better than you - absolutely go for it!

the unfortunate reality that everyone loves to avoid about how to make yourself write is that it is the exact same process as how to do absolutely anything at all: task management. trying to do consistent writing requires determining what motivates you, what timeframe you want to complete a project in (barring special circumstances), and how to set realistic short-term and long-term goals. and that sucks, and nobody wants to do it.

the real key to figuring out how to work with these things is what you want from this project, because that'll affect how strictly you'll need to hold yourself to account. people have an idea that you Need to fulfill a certain writing quota per day for your writing to make Adequate Progress TM, but that's not...really the case. there are circumstances where you want to hold yourself to a schedule, in which case deadlines are a very important part of the process! But if you're just writing for fun? There is literally no reason to try to push yourself. imposing unnecessary deadlines makes it difficult to meet them, since there's no real enforcement; and that makes it harder to write, because of the guilt hanging overhead.

in general, i put any project i make on a scale from 1-5:

I am literally just imagining/writing this to pass time/have fun and will never show it to anyone

this is an idea i want to show people, but i dont want it to be a consistent thing

i want to create for this on a regular schedule so that i can make consistent progress so that others can read it

this is a gift, part of a collaboration, or is something i want to eventually publish, and i need to finish it before the deadline

i am literally being paid to write this in a timeframe/am required to submit this for a class.

(you'll note that 3 has no "i want to create on a consistent schedule just for fun." that's because that's still ultimately a 1, not a 3! this isn't about how fast you WANT to complete a project - its about how strictly you NEED to complete a project.

you'll also notice that the escalation, instead of "for fun" to "for job," is "for fun" to "for others to read" to "for job." for a lot of people, cooperative art is simply more enjoyable than art for the self! receiving validation and feedback is an important motivator and influence to being an artist. i tend to bake whether i want people to view my work directly into the process, and you should never feel like wanting that feedback is something to be ashamed of! just make sure you have at least one person around who will be happy for your work with you, so you don't get burnt out on the no-views blues.)

once ive ranked a project, i'll translate it to a numerical format. this is going to sound silly, but you can really, truly use the numbers in any way you like; the important thing is that the number is in there. if you have a 1, it could be that you want to write for at least one hour a day, or one hour a week, or one minute a week, or just work at all one day a week. or one day a month! you have to integrate it somehow, but you can go as far apart as you like, and you can change it on the fly however you feel like. it's a 1! no one is going to get mad at you for doing whatever you want with a 1. as long as you've got literally anything in there, that's good enough!

the higher a project goes, the more strict outside sources get about it, which means that the more rigidly the bounds you have to work within are. if you have a 5 that's due in a week, you can either spend five hours on it or five days - but you won't be able to do five minutes! generally, for me, i need external motivation to write anyway, so a lot of my projects fall at 2 or 3; as a result, i usually try to get a chapter/update in once every 2-3 weeks.

this is sort of a silly system, because by nature it's wildly inconsistent. but i've found that looseness works for me! within that system, you can use whatever motivators you generally get - giving yourself ice cream, taking a break day, whatever you need. the rewards, for me, usually also vary depending on the intensity, and also tends to be more external; for a 1, i'll give myself 1 hour to chill out and daydream about where the story might go, where for a 5, i usually do writing commissions in $5 increments so that there's monetary motivation.

there's a lot of other things to talk about with how to motivate yourself to write, but this is how i do it! if nothing else, i'd advise stepping back to think about how strict your deadlines need to be with whatever work you're trying to do - it's important to be honest with yourself about what your expectations are, and whether they're more/less intense than they need to be for a given work.

#ask #filmamir #i hope this helps!!#i have genuinely no idea if this would be useful to others this is just What I Do

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instantpansies · 6 months ago

Text

OKAY here's my edits added!! op i hope you don't mind. thank you so much for transcribing everything in the first place that's a gigantic project omg. here's my big list of reblogs where i filled in some blanks (i used the insta reel, youtube short, and pictures from this post to patch together extra shots and when possible higher-quality versions to find more words!)

picture 1:

???? chicken head funnier (okay genuinely op i am amazed that you could make out anything on this picture. incredible i am bowing to you)

picture 2:

first page

REACTIONATOR

Ke?ps (my guess is maybe this is the name of the ep???? i have no idea.) Speakers all over town People's phones

Therapist Doof & Candace

Therapist thinks she is crazy but is tactful

the shrink is delusional ex???g?s (evenings???) or exercise That is the catalyst for Cand being delusional

Candace "It's a Wonderful life" - After actual bust C sees everyone doing much worse she feels bad -

FAMILY - I think you should discuss it OLIV: CRUISE SHIP - P&F START W/ SMALL CAND VAN/DOOF LAST CHANCE TO BOND CANDACE A / PERRY BACK ->

second page

Doof's DEI W/^ C's Therapist office. (this is below "Doof's DEI", i'm thinking this is meant as one line: "Doof's DEI office. w/C's therapist")

Doof sees therapist

Ferb is next a Speech Therapist

Doof trauma-dumping on therapist

Therapist "The real self-destruct button is in your head"

Therapist does ExNemesis-therapist (guessing he meant "therapy", idk)

Therapist sees - "WAIT, ^ I GET IT, what Candace is doing gets taken away by what HE'S DOING --"

Doof/Boys regular take-away That she sees - but she can't tell them can't tell them this because of CLIENT CONFidentiality ALL DANVILLE CRUISE OLIVIA: DOOF AND VANESSA ON CRUISE SHIP (on side: ALL CHARACTERS) THERAPIST ?? THRU LINDANA LAUGHING: IT'S A REACTIONINATOR STACY (...?...) PER(RY?) ? BLACKMAIL SECRET LINDANA ? I EVER TELL YOU ABOUT (........?.....) W/ LINDANA WHOSE SOLVED MYSTERIES

picture 3:

(script on table) PHINEAS AND FERB

"VANESSAY"

Written by Martin Olson & Olivia Olson

Dt 1.0 - Tues 4-9-24

picture 4:

VANESSAY Change tennis to play ground.

Roger & Slushy guy not Zapped

ROG - REFLECTS RAY W/ his teeth - set up teeth FIST. (fast? first?) Doof: Strong jaw -

AGENT T THUMB NOTes

"UP THE CHIMNEY IS A WEIRD VISUAL PUN" Stacy: "ya know we have a front door."

C & Stacy w/ animal sounds joke sequence - CUT DOWN?

MONO - "Four seasons of this show" Why did I think he's evil?

TO LIV for Vanessay Playground - See how Doof throws (thinks??) trap suits scene - A HANDLED WINOW BOX

Stace: "Heyyy I also made ANIMAL NOISES!" CUT TO BLACK

⭐Stace pushes J?y(?) (Jeremy?) out of doorway

DIMIN: after "SHORTY" - No prize is worth this! ->

picture 5:

T For Teen

For LIV - SC 916 leaps into air & does triple flip & lands ready to fight

⭐Pitch as buttons for each SC ^ T for Teen

EXEC Notes - THURS - T FOR TEEN: 1:45 end of C/Stacy annual ? SC suden cut to end wide SHOT w "NAPKINS"

MEAP - PT2 S&P CONCERNS

"you know we have a front door!" Is up the chimney a visual pun? (There is an arrow leading to these lines from the starred note above)

picture 6:

MEAP PT 2 - THUMBNOTES

22 C to Meap "Uh-uh! An exploding ship gives us away!" (CLUMSY)

Fix pronunciation "ST. LOIS" (<- ACT READ?) joke C is shushed by Meap

TIDY UP - don't have everyone say "Don't forget to flush"

C pressing red button to explode sound! (looks like "sand" but i think it's "sound") ship sucks!

Brenda joke sexist "None one tracks U thru the universe more than your wife"

picture 7:

501 PT1 EXEC NOTES - Bigger intro of Doof instead of him on Yearbook 10:27 BUF throws away Constitution but not in X IRVING Beat ^ #2 too quick to read

DECONSTRUCTING THUMBATIC -

Instead of "PSYCHOSIS" "PHANTASMA"

607 - ISA HAIR - 704 - OWCA Shredding SC.

C feels good - "I go thru that every day"

12 min: Viewers see the Murder Board

BIBLIO BLAST ANIM NOTES

Perry incompetent - Smashes into Doof's Roof CUT DOWN) PLANTS SURROUNDING ATTACKING CUT DOWN Doof /Per table start w/Doof: We have to HIT SELF- DESTRUCT! 904 - CUT DOWN 946 - START W/ 963 PAN

picture 8:

page one

SKELETONS WALKING (YALL IM SCREAMING. I CAUGHT A SHOT OF DAN TURNING THE PAGE AND THE WHOLE SONG TITLE IS VISIBLE. HERE'S THE IMAGE)

We're SW - along by the River We sit on a rock & the wind makes us shiver We're SW - in love w each other again

V2: The life all around us - it all seems so REAL The meaning confounds us - cuz nothing's revealed We're SW in love w/ each other again

MIDDLE 1: From nothing, we hurtle Towards each other again Our love seems to circle Without any end

V3: The cloud of Unknowing has such beautiful colors But where's it all going Except(?) towards one another? We're SW - in love w/ each othe

MIDDLE 2: We seek out each other Everytime we appear Sometimes we find another Before we disappear

INSTRUMENTAL W DANCING SKELETON

page two

S. W.

MIDDLE 3: The breeze says to hug her And show how we feel Slowly healing each other Every turn of the wheel

REPEAT V1: So basically - We're SW Along by the river We sit on a porch and The wind makes us shiver We're SW - in love w/ each other We're SW in love w/ each other again

JOSH - The Power of (ik it looks like "paver" - but my guess is, this song is called "The Power of Love" OR a fakeout word instead of love)

picture 9: (ok it's very hard to get a clear screenshot of these pages. i managed to grab one with just barely more info on it so there'll be like. three extra words here)

TIS MENTA WHILE (SKEL)ETONS DANCE

(MIDD)LE 3: (The br)eeze says to hug her (And s)how how we feel (Sl)owly healing each other (Ev)ery turn of the wheel

REPEAT V1: (So basically)

We're SW Along by the river We sit on the rocks and The wind makes us shiver We're SW In love w/ each other again

picture 10:

(C)RUISIN' NOTES (...?...) SWAMPY

(p)erhaps since they're trapped Let's get do Mom: C, there ? a np(??) back for the birds to build so..?

Bermuda 🔺 element

Tri-State Triangle

"It's like the Bermu(da triangle) totally different

(Teen lounge) pop & P&F build a j

Too much like (it's blank after this, not covered)

Dan wants ct to PLANE to cruise

IF Doof is not an dog fight w/ Doof

Jon said we turn it story where Doof's in in the clouds - There's another

(here's the img i used to find a couple more words)

picture 11:

It's a whole new summer Perry

Earthquake

Mom is laughing so hard she can't look

STARING CONTEST - TRY NOT TO LAUGH --

Candace has to be serious at Jeremy's LARPING TOURNAMENT but she laughs

picture 12:

STORY IDEA: Perry has a di Shall he give save his GINGER ST ^ STACY'S MOM - MS. HI(RANO)

Perry sick,

"Can you take

CANDACE

P&F CANOE RACE

LAUGHTRACK-INATOR

START sat????m - REveal Doof hits them w/ a (arrow to "laughtrack-inator") Doof keep cranking it up

Doof raises wall of audience behind at himself(?)

LAUGH-INATOR

CUT TO SURGEON HEART

Norm: Good mg sir! Doof: But (Bust??) I programmed you to

picture 13: (as op says, this doesn't add much to picture 2, though i did use it to fill in some blanks up there.) (along side) LINDANA 80'S COP MOVIE - GUEST ON DOOFENPUS

and that's it!!!

once again, MASSIVE props to op for transcribing this oh my word. I had so much fun going through everything!! so excited for the new episodes this is so cool. SKELETONS WALKING AAAAAH anyways, if anyone else has additions, insight, or stuff we missed, let me know i'll add it in!!

ive been looking at this for hours today im actually unwell how did you do this op

Dan posted this video that gave us a HUGE peek into Martin's notes about episodes they're working on...

Screenshots (with about 90% ID of what's visible, bless his handwriting) under the cut! Fair warning, it's long, but there's a lot going on here, and it's so much to think about!

picture 1: ????? chicken head funnier

picture 2: (first page) Reactionator

? Speakers all over town People's phones Therapist Doof & Candace

Therapist thinks she is crazy but is tactful

The shrink is delusional ? ? exercise that is the catalyst for Cand. being delusional

Candace "It's A Wonderful Life" -- After actual bust C sees everyone doing much worse she feels sad

Family - I think you discuss it Cruise Ship - P&F Van/Doof Last chance to Candace A / Perry back

(second page) Doof's DEI W/A C's Therapist

Doof same therapist

Ferb is next a speech therapist

Doof trauma-dumping on therapist

Therapist "The real self-destruct button is in your head"

Therapist does ex(?)nemesis - therapist

Therapist sees - "WAIT, I GET IT, what Candace is doing gets taken away by what HE'S DOING--"

(note going down side of page) GUEST ON DOOFENPUSS

Doof ? regular ? ? - but she can't ? this because of C ? Confidential ALL DANVILLE Doof and Vanessa on cruise ALL CHARACTERS ? Reactionator blackmail secret I ever tell you w/Lindana whose solved mysteries

picture 3: (script on the table) (our first potential season 6 title?) PHINEAS AND FERB

"VANESSAY"

Written by Martin Olson & Olivia Olson

picture 4: Vanessay

Change tennis to playground

Roger & slushy guy not zapped

Rog. - reflects ray w/ his teeth - set up teeth first Doof: strong jaw -

Agent T thumbnotes "Up the chimney is a weird visual pun" Stacy: "You know we have a front door."

C & Stacy w/ambient sounds joke sequence - cut down?

Mono - "Four seasons of this show" Why did I ? ? ?

To Liv for Vanessay Playground - see how ? ? trap sets scene - a handled window box

Stacy: "Hey ? I ? ANIMAL NOISES!" CUT TO BLACK

Stacy pushes ? out of doorway

Dimin: after "Shorty" - No prize is worth this!

picture 5: T For Teen For Liv - SC 916 Perry leaps into air & does triple flip & lands ready to fight

Pitch n buttons for each

Exec note - Thurs - T For Teens 1:48 end of C/Stacy annual ? sudden cut to end ? w "napkins"

MEAP - PT2 S&P CONCERNS

(I cannot make this bit out to save my life. Martin what in the world my dude)

picture 6: Meap pt 2 - thumbnotes

22 to Meap - "Uh-uh! An ship ? us away!" (clumsy)

Fix pronunciation "St. Lois" joke C is shushed by Meap

Tidy up - don't have everyone say "Don't forget to flush"

C pressing red button to explode ? ship sucks

Brenda joke sexist "No one tracks you through the universe more than your wife"

picture 7: 501 PT1 Exec notes - bigger intro of Doof instead of him on yearbook 10:27 Buf. throw away Constitution Irving beat #2 too quick to nerd

Deconstructing thumbatic

Instead of "psychosis" "phantasma"

607 - Isa hair - 704 OWCA shredding SC

C feels good - "? ? that every day"

12 min: Viewers see The Murder Board

Biblio Blast anim. notes Perry incompetent - smashes into Doof's roof Cut down - plants surrounding/attacking Cut down Doof/Per table start w/Doof "We have to HIT SELF DESTRUCT"

picture 8: (page 1) song by the paver the wind makes love w/each other again

around us - it all seems so real meaning confounds us - cuz nothing's revealed we're SW in love w/each other again

Middle 1: From nothing we hustle Towards each other again Our love seems to circle Without any end

V3: The cloud of unknowing has such beautiful colors But where is it all going ? towards one another? we're SW - in love w/each other again

Middle 2: We seek out each other Every time we appear Sometimes we find another Before we disappear

INSTRUMENTAL W/DANCING SKELETON

(page 2) Middle 3: The breeze says to hug her And show how we feel Slowly healing each other Every turn of the wheel

Repeat V1: So basically - We're SW Along by the river We sit on a porch and The wind makes us shiver We're SW in love w/ each other again We're SW in love w/ each other again

JOSH - The paver of

picture 9: While Dance

says to hug her how we feel healing each other turn of the wheel

Repeat V1: (So basically)

We're SW Alone by the river We sit on the ? and The wind makes us shiver We're SW In love w/each other again

picture 10: Swampy

is trapped

back build something

element

State Triangle

"It's like the Berm[uda Triangle] totally different

(Teen lounge) & P&F build

too much like

Dan wants PLANE to

Doof is the ship

Jon said we turn strong where Doof is in the clouds - there's

picture 11: It's a whole new summer Perry (reblog if u cried)

Earthquake

Mom is laughing so hard she can't look

Staring contest - Try not to laugh

Candace has to be ? at Jeremy's larping tournament but she laughs

picture 12: Perry sick, "Can you take

Candace P&F canoe race

Laughtrack-inator Start ? - reveal Doof hits them w/a Doof keeps cranking it up

Doof rises wall of ? behind at ?

Laugh-inator Cut to surgeon heart

Norm: Good mg. sir Doof: But I programmed you to

picture 13: (this is another view of the page in picture 2, but this one reveals slightly more at the bottom, nothing too noteworthy added except for this)

LINDANA 80'S COP MOVIE - GUEST ON DOOFENPUS

#dwampyverse #analysis #phineas and ferb #toasty talks #and you know what? fuck it i'll tag it:#toast watches dwampyverse #toast watches

525 notes · View notes

bumblebeerror · 2 months ago

Note

so, bumble, i need some advice. i have pretty bad anger issues. all it takes is seeing something that irritates me, and i start gritting my teeth and the explosive anger comes out. i hate it.

do you have any advice on how to manage or handle my anger issues myself (can't afford a therapist)?

- 🍄

Oh, yea actually :D

I like to use anger as Fuel when I have to deal with it. So if I’m mad I use it to clean something, or do a physically rigorous chore. I can’t do that as much as I used to, but anger is REALLY GOOD for getting shit done, and typically I feel better after because now I’m not angry and also I did something productive.

Other options I recommend are:

Exercising in general, even if that just means you do some sit ups or pace around the room.

Adjacent to that, going outside for a walk is legitimately a really good way to get your head back on straight. You don’t have to go fast or even far - I sometimes just get a drink and sit on my stoop for a while.

Throwing a little tantrum (importantly, one that doesn’t involve other people around and doesn’t damage property). Punch pillows, pout, flop facedown onto your bed and scream, all excellent options. The goal is to feel much like a 3 year old who needs a nap as possible because once you calm down it makes the thing you were mad about feel a lot smaller. And then possibly take a nap.

As for feeling less irritated in general, that’s a little harder.

In general that kinda thing just… takes work. Sometimes things should make you mad, but shouldn’t make you as mad as you feel, and that takes practice reminding yourself that they’re not the end of the world.

Sometimes shit should make you mad because it it world level, but if you spend too much time on it you’ll just spend your time angry and doing nothing. Which sucks!

It takes practice to identify them but in general, if you can’t do anything about it, you have to parent yourself into taking some real deep breaths and go do something with your hands.

[ Oh, also - There are a few vitamins that could be contributing to your mood, so a multivitamin might improve things. Vitamin D is particularly important, and you need sunlight to turn the regular kind into the kind your body uses, so you’ve gotta either get the kind that’s formulated to be used without sunlight or you gotta go outside for a few minutes in the sun per day. But in general, making sure your body as is well nourished as possible will improve your mental health. And eggs/fish. Those are typically good for the brain since they’re high in the fats and proteins your brain’s made of. Disclaimer: I am not a doctor, if you take other meds or vitamins/herb supplements, check them against any health issues you have because they can and do have serious interactions with certain medical conditions/medications. Also vitamins and supplements aren’t regulated by the FDA so be aware. ]

#the bell tolls for you #🍄

0 notes

diino8081 · 2 months ago

Text

random song i found

i would like to share it with you

youtube

it's the slowed version but the original one was too fast so this one is better for me (but it could be different for you so check it out)

this song has a feeling of despair but also hope to accomplish your goals and get past what's been bringing you down and i really like that about it

small vent below because sometimes a guy needs to get the words out (feel free to skip it though, i know venting can be real tough for observers) - it does turn into good things after the 3rd paragraph though, read after the sun emoji ☀️ if you want to get to the happier part

i've just been kinda listening to it, having a mental breakdown over deadlines. y'know. all that jazz. it is what it is

it's like 5am too and my sleep schedule is all over the place. it's my mum's birthday tomorrow (today?) and i was going to make her something. i haven't gone round to doing that yet. i was going to make her a bracelet because she's been asking me to make one for her for a long time and i finally had a reason to. my dad said it wouldn't be enough so i lost the motivation. my brother gave the idea of a necklace so my dad bought one for her and said it's from both of us. it feels kinda iffy. it was my brother's idea.

there's food in the fridge that was bought for me. fish. fish is good. but the use by date is today. it's a few mackerel fillet things. but not really fillets. it's like they air sealed it in plastic. there are about 6 of them, 3 per packet. god i don't want to eat them all but i really hate food waste. i might just leave them. i ended up wasting something really good yesterday too. either i need to start eating more or my parents need to start buying less or more tactically. i don't know. this doesn't really seem like something you put in a vent so it seems a bit stupid but i mean, food waste, right?

☀️

on the plus side though, my dad bought me two ninjago magazines the other day. pretty sure it was issue 116 of the regular one and also 31 of the legacy one. the legacy one seems very ice chapter themed so i'm happy about that. with it i got an arin minifigure as well as ras and a random wolf mask warrior. i haven't read it yet but i'm getting to it

i've also been working on the pressurejago crossover. just character sheets but it's good. i've done 4 already and i've been doing the next 3. i still need to do the new post-merge ninja though. it'll be fine. also this au is fully open for anyone to go in and add to it.

my frozen liberation au has been on a bit of a standstill. i mean i wrote a few words yesterday sure but it's been slow. it's not stopping but i'm just on a bit of a break. i've been doing things with friends more which is good

i've been playing a lot of pressure, which is what prompted the pressurejago idea. been doing a lot of lockerless and even streamed a few runs. the furthest i got to was the ridge but i died to a wall dweller. not even pandamonium or pinkie or anything. a wall dweller. it's fine though. i'll get there eventually

i did a few TBS runs (This Badge Sucks) with a team of my friends and a few others. we did get pretty far a few times but we haven't made it yet. someday we will though

in doing my lockerless and TBS runs i've learned a lot about hiding spots, terminology and how the node monsters work. i've definitely gotten better at the game and i think if i were to do a regular run i would win relatively easy. i haven't got to 100 deaths yet but i'm definitely getting there (i'm on 81 right now).

also i've discovered i really like iced tea. the lemon one comes in first but peach is a close second. i don't remember the last time i had regular though. i'll have to buy more of these

i think that's about it. i feel better actually after sharing this. the music helped too. it sounds less despairing now. writing things down has helped me to realise that things aren't as bad as they seem. it's kind of silly actually

to anyone reading this who's going through bad things: writing it down actually helps manage your emotions which is cool.

alright, that's the end of my rambles. thanks for reading and have a good day or night or other

#diinoposting #music #vent #but it turns ok #pressurejago is mentioned in a paragraph #notable diino moments #Youtube

0 notes

the-firebird69 · 3 months ago

Video

youtube

Luvly O Is An $11k Micro EV That Ships Like IKEA Furniture Without The A...

and he is an imbicile wants to make toys into cars like our son but makes toy cars man yo of them the new toyota has no towing capacity and it is the truck you change out he body on. but..others see it anddo it and re forg and he a fool

we use this now and our son and dougher had help asked them to and good.

Thor Freya

We came over started blabbing his **** off was telling us what to do he has make the thing and it sucks so we put it in for redesign and he's sitting there with his fat **** on it saying we can't do it it's his idea and he said he had over and over and we said this we can't do it but you put the idea but you put the idea out there and it's everywhere because of you and everybody's doing and he said is that how that works let me say it apparently so he looks around he sees all these companies gearing up to start doing it and he's trying to send people and he's trying to send people out to stop them and the towing capacity is like 3000 pounds and it can carry about 3500 pounds it's A just a real flatbed just like our son and daughter said to use not a toy. And you can switch it out with all sorts of things people gonna have fun with it during the week they can work on the weekend they put the toy box in it or they put a camper on it and they tow a toy box and it is ridiculously fun ridiculous the amount of fun you can have it's terrifying how much fun it is so I'm Japanese and I'm his father no I'm his father in law and she my wife is his mother in law and he said that these electric dirt bikes are so light that you could make a quad and some of them have tires that aren't so wide that would fold inwards so if you had a pickup you can fit like 5 of them in it and they go just as long and just as fast as gasoline they can trade out the battery so the idea is great you take a regular dirt bike and you can make a quad and it's from a electric dirt bike the motor you'd upgrade a little in the battery not too much they're all like about 2500 so you make it 3000 and the tires you put on a little smaller than these huge balloon tires those are too big and really it only like 5 inches in in across and the way the electric courts is it's really actually quite skinny it's like a motorcycle it's like a dirt bikes you can make the center part like a dirt bike and it would look like a sand rail or one of these UTV things where the hardware is kind of sticking out there and furthermore you could actually make it shrink by putting the wheels downwards and it could wheel it in and out and I'm gonna work on it it's like a transformer idea but it's very simple you might be able to just disconnect the top and it drops down it's really simple and it's so simple it probably hurts I mean it's electric it's skinny and it's a quad and everybody would ride one because you can't stay up on a motorcycle anymore no one can they went too high as not wide it's impossible and he says that you can't do much about an electric 4 Wheeler but you take almost the same configuration but you change it a little of course and you see down to make like the Baja car but a small one and when you put it into your truck you put it vertically so instead of fitting like one or two you put in like 4 in a regular pickup truck does it be like two feet high well maybe three but still you can put everything else on the sides and you could fit it in there with a cap on it most likely and maybe not but a toy box you can fit five of them I think we're gonna try and make that too but it's electric you see it's not gasoline with gasoline you have to treat the vehicle with regards to gravity with the electrics you can put them on the side or facing upwards and that's what he's saying and it will help get his baja car going is by making it electric I'm gonna go ahead and make these now. And we're gonna start pumping out a whole bunch of ideas and see what happens. I like his new idea I like to design it's basically a Chinese design it came from the tube and they they did it and took it and we want to use it and calli t Troy Bilt and have people assemble it. and we love it.. it would wiegh only about 350lb and shp easy assemble like ikea furniutre but with some insturucitons. we do ths now

Posieden and Goddess Wife we send out our name shortly good he says

Olympus

#youtube

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astercontrol · 1 month ago

Text

To expand a little bit on that last part:

I don't really want to believe this about Flynn, and in my own fic I try to find ways around it... but the fact remains, canon has a disconcerting amount of evidence that Flynn doesn't take the life and sentience of Programs very seriously.

It's not quite so pronounced in 1982. We do pretty often see him putting his own desires ahead of any concern for the Programs, and we see him recover and go back to his happy-go-lucky self disturbingly fast after each time he sees someone get derezzed. But that may be explained as him just being desperate to get back to normal, and/or repressing bad feelings out of necessity.

We see worse behavior in Legacy and Uprising and the various games. He seems to continue being oblivious to the needs of his creations-- which becomes worse when he's in charge of their whole world.

(See: the obviously impossible "perfect system" directive he gave Clu. And his disregard for Dyson's injury.)

(Also, separating Tron from his user, his original purpose, and perhaps from Yori too? ...But then we don't see the exact circumstances of that, so whatever.)

And then there's his "ooh! shiny distraction!" problem. If I found out that the programs in my work computer were all sentient, I would put some serious effort into trying to make things better for those programs. Life as office software has gotta SUCK, especially if none of your bosses even know you're alive!

But Flynn's response seems to have just been, "Oh COOL! Look what I can experience by going inside a computer like that! I'm gonna go make my OWN setup for doing the same thing!"

Again, we can't be certain, because it never really shows much of anything he did in the Encom computer post-82. And again, there's ways around this, for when we want to show him sympathetically in fanfic.

But on the surface, it looks as if his "cool-new-project" inspiration just grabbed his attention away from actually caring about any of the friends he made in there.

And this happened again with the ISOs. They were new and cool, and he was more interested in them than in helping his old programs with their problems.

He also seems to have said (in some of the videogame material, I think?) that the ISOs were special because they "had free will," and the regular programs didn't.

Now, I have no idea just how Flynn defined "free will," or how he thought he could possibly know who has it and who doesn't. Personally, I think the whole concept of "free will" is too subjective, too impossible to prove, too impossible to agree on a definition, for it to be any use in real life.

But... that concept, whatever it means, is pretty often thrown around as part of the definition of being a sentient person.

Which makes me concerned about how Flynn viewed the basic programs. Did he not actually believe they were sentient? Did he never really value their lives on the level of human or ISO lives?

So, if this is really what Flynn was like (and again, I'd prefer to think it isn't!) ...imagine what would happen if any of this callousness came through in his creation of Clu.

(Of course, if it did, it wasn't directed the same as it was in the original Flynn. If Flynn was callous only toward the Basic programs, Clu was callous toward almost everyone, including, especially, ISOs and humans.)

(But then-- the habits we learn from our parents, mentors, etc. don't always get focused at the same targets. Can't really predict how they'll be focused. And even if Clu was at one point an exact copy, rather than being like Flynn's son or student... well, there's still a lot of ways experiences can change you over time. Deep drives are harder to change. But the way they're directed... I think that change can happen in more sudden, volatile ways.)

Ok here's a dark little thought about post-1982 Flynn.

So, on the Discord we were discussing something I've mentioned a bunch of times before: the idea of copying a program to another system.

The reason I believe Legacy Tron was a copy, is basically just this: In real-life computers, unless a program is running off a removable disk, copying is the only way to move it from one computer to another. If you move a program to a new computer, the original will, by default, still be in the computer you moved it from. You'd have to actively choose to delete it, if you don't want it to be there.

And a few more ideas that came up were:

- What if this happens when moving a program out into the "real world," too? Like Quorra, at the end of Legacy? Does it leave behind an in-system copy, who can't ever fully leave the system, except by being deleted?

-What if this happens to digitized Users, too? What if Flynn left behind a program version of himself, when he got back out of the Encom system, that first time?

-What if it happens every time? What if Flynn went back in and out of the Encom system a bunch of times, and every time it created a new Program Flynn?

-What would happen to all these duplicates? Would they simply be stuck there forever unless they were deleted? Could they be merged together?

And since then... my mind has extrapolated this to the backstory of Legacy, in some really disturbing ways.

What if, by the time he makes the new Grid, he's figured out a way to stop these proliferating copies from happening every time... But he still knows how to make it happen on command, if he wants to.

And what if this is how he created Clu2.

This would explain why Clu seems to be made in his image in a way other programs aren't-- seems to be a duplicate of him on some deep level, perhaps even sharing his memories.

And it would also explain why he's so sure that neither he nor Clu would survive reintegration.

Because that would mean he's done it before.

Not on himself -- but on his earlier copies, in his attempts to reduce their numbers without outright killing them.

He found that his copies never survived being merged back together. And based on his knowledge of how it works, he sees no way his "real" self could survive it either.

Maybe he doesn't know for sure what else would happen, if his real self were to merge with a copy. But he has plenty of experience to suggest that neither one would survive.

And the fact that he, prior to all those "zen" years of becoming more enlightened, was someone who did all that to his programs...

...might also explain part of why Clu turned out the way he did.

#tron 1982 #tron legacy #tron #tronblr #dark thoughts

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areallybadwriter · 1 year ago

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8/7

I made it to the city. A little above what I wanted to pay for rent, I moved in to a nice second story apartment with a lot of natural lighting and two really good friends. It is the first time I've lived with either of them, but so far the roommate dynamic is good. I think we are all more on the communicative side, but also laid back and self-responsible enough where nothing big should arise as an issue. We've had a couple problems since moving in, including a incessant leak coming from our bathroom ceiling that has yet to be fixed by the countless maintenance people and a few windows that don't seem to be properly attached to their respective areas. We also have two cats (one belonging to each of my roommates) that were not properly discussed on the lease - in fact, not allowed - but one is a certified ESA and the other "doesn't exist". Our landlord is quite upset about it but what are you gonna do? They're not my cats anyways. Other than the issues, the move has been quite successful. I am wholeheartedly broke at the moment and job searching. I have a second interview lined up for a very, very serious barista job tomorrow and I really hope I get it so I can get back to working & making money. It has been a real struggle to not work because there's not much else to fill up my time during the days. A little break was nice, sure, but I'm ready to get back into it. I sold clothes at Buffalo Exchange today, including a couple very nice bags that hurt to let go of, if that tells you how broke I am. Other than that, it's been fun. We've been out to a couple bars in the area now and our little group just caught a show at a concert hall that cost me $5 a ticket. We've had some good food and I'm excited to become a regular at the cuban place I live close to. Walking everywhere has been great too which was something that happened irregularly in the last city I lived in because it was heavily car dependent. Now, I'm walking an average of like 13,000 steps a day which feels really good (except I have a killer blister from my docs at the moment).

Moving has brought on a new era of loneliness for me admittedly and I'm trying to deal with it fast or else I know I'll sink into a bout of sadness. I've left some of my best friends behind (one refuses to move to the city until they find a job which I can't blame them for) and most of my regular bootycalls, as well as my parents. All the important ones. What's really hard is that both of my roommates, as well as the rest of the friend group that migrated, have significant others already. It hasn't been too much of an issue, but when they want to detach themselves from the larger group to do a date night or something, it sucks because I haven't found other friends to hang out with. I've matched with a lot of people on tinder (people that I could actually see myself meeting up with because why not) but it's a little different to have people you can depend on. And I hate meeting boys! Always so nerve-racking when it doesn't need to be and usually not worth my time anyways. Don't really know what I'm looking for either.

With my loneliness, I've been coming to another very adult realization/observation about a lot of my relationships with men. Specifically men who are friends and who I've slept with in the past as a casual/one-nighter thing. I have two guy friends (both living in the city, too) who almost use me as a stand-in, pseudo girlfriend while they search for a real one. And of course I've had part in it by not setting my boundaries very well and everything but it feels so shitty. It's hard to write about without giving the full details but I just feel like I am always there for them in this caregiving role, like I'm the girlfriend or mom without any of the reward. I provide them with things (nothing physical) that might transcend a normal boy/girl relationship and it has started to wear on my more as I'm single and maybe putting myself out there for a bigger relationship. One of them has recently gotten a girlfriend, and as I've now drawn the line in the sand and kind of pulled back from the friendship, he assumes that I'm unfairly upset with him. And I'm not particularly upset with him at all really, it's just that I think putting so much effort into a relationship with a man (where it has been romantic in the past) while they have a partner is crazy. I treaded onto too many relationships in high school because I was the close "girl best friend" of guys who were actually just kind of assholes. I think especially when it affects me emotionally, it's a dynamic that is just plain wrong and not something that I should invest so much time or effort in. I've also found with this particular guy that once he has no use for me/no longer finds me attractive/can't flirt with me constantly, he just becomes mean and uncaring, which is something that shouldn't happen if we were really just good friends. It makes me think of that study or quote that says that men usually aren't friends with girls they're not attracted to. The other problem child is way less comparable to the first, as it's a completely different set of situations but it still confuses the hell out of me. Me & I slept together awhile ago when we were both plastered and I always had a huge crush on him (before and after hooking up). He was the first to move to the city and we kept in contact the whole time and would see each other occasionally. The last couple of times I've seen him, it's been a touch and grab fest whether sober or not. We're very close and we always at least sleep in the same room or same bed whenever a sleepover is involved. There's always some excuse to be right next to each other or cuddling or whatever. For my birthday, I was in the city with some friends and he was there for most of it. He took us to a club and bought me bottle service and cuddled me in the morning. Now that I'm here in Chicago (which he's delighted about), we've gone out a couple times and it's the same thing. He came to the show at Thalia the other night and was plastered, which meant he was hanging onto me the whole night. Arm around my shoulder or waist, kissing my temple, dancing with me, talking into my ear as the band played. All romantic things except for the fact that we're not romantically involved at all. I don't necessarily have a crush on him anymore, and if I do, its dormant feelings that stir up when he behaves like that. And I have to admit that it feels good to be close with someone like that (physically, emotionally, etc.) but at the end of the day when I'm alone and thinking too much it gets trapped in my head. I wouldn't dare say anything to him about it ever, because I truly believe he doesn't have any romantic inclination towards me. We talk about girls he's talking to on Hinge all the time and I detail my latest hookup stories for him when I feel like talking about it. The sensitive, stupid parts of my brain just can't handle it very well.

wyoming and I have semi made-up. At this point, I don't even want to read the posts of this blog back because I know I've gone back and forth on it for so long. We are keeping a distance now for sure, but some things have come up where it's caused me to think about the end goal. When I was out drinking with friends in my hometown a week or two before I moved, I ended up hooking up with him at our spot. It was a total bootycall on my end, and while I think I treated him fairly for how he's been with me these last couple of months, I think that it affected him negatively. A lot of times with sex & intimacy for me nowadays, I detach myself emotionally so it doesn't bring up anything complicated that I don't want to deal with. And while I'm fully aware that I can't really let my emotions seep when it comes to Wyoming, I tried my fullest the night I hooked up with him. Somewhat mean, avoiding talking about myself or talking too much in general, etc. While I wanted to see him and desired some sort of physicality, I was still very much aware of the pain it had caused me in the past. Anyways, we had a very adult conversation about it recently where he said that it affected him quite a bit and he wasn't ready to do casual sex like that if he wasn't prepared to do it all the time/commit to a more serious thing. Which is really understandable and probably quite a good decision for both of us. We agreed we were still good and that if our relationship hadn't been shot to hell at this point (after 7 years of trials and tribulations), not much could stop it at this point. We are being patient with it. While I'm open to small things in the mean time - seeing as I'm 23 and in a new city - I've decided that it is worth it to be patient and that it's something I want in my future. I think he plans on visiting me soon which I'm really excited for. Last time we were here together we had a blast and let me fully plan/choose the stuff we were doing which I thrive off of. It sounds corny but I really think its a sixth type of love language. I like showing my people the good food, the good places, the places that I love in hopes they enjoy it just as much. And now I have a lot more places to show him.

I am nervous for my interview tomorrow, as there are three people who will be interviewing me as a conglomerate. I've never had to interview with more than two people before and apparently we're meeting in one of the locations conference rooms. For a barista job! It's crazy. I think I will fit in nicely there and they definitely give off the same vibe as my last coffeeshop where maybe the customer isn't always right and there's a real value for art and community and collaboration. What worries me is that one of my guy friends (neither of the guys mentioned above) just got an interview at the same location. While I am very confident in my abilities and myself, he is one of those people that other people just naturally gravitate towards. I told him he was the luckiest person I knew the other day, which is true. He went in for an interview for some door job for a bar and he got it on the spot with no actual interview at all. It's frustrating because I feel like sometimes I work twice as hard or care twice as much and it barely compares to how people perceive him because he talks loud and carries (man) confidence. Especially when he's already scored a job to make money and I have no flow of income at the moment. If he gets it over me, I'll be heartbroken. It's really something I should get into but I don't feel like it tonight.

I don't really feel at home here yet and it sort of just feels like a big vacation where I'm required to spend a lot of money on apartment stuff and feeding myself. this city was one of my first loves, so it's still very easy to get wrapped up in it, but I am homesick. I don't have the same community or routine and this time I have the weight and responsibility of being an adult who has adult things to do and pay for. I'm reminded of my getting older every day and I miss being younger so bad. And being younger really sucked for me. I think I'm somewhat holding myself back from things because I'm not comfortable enough yet in this city to do things on my own. Sure, I can go out of my own and walk around and grab food and shop, but I really value taking myself to movies or trying new things and I'm too nervous to do that yet. And literally no one cares about me or what I'm doing but my brain just refuses to let me. Like I can't imagine taking myself out to a sit down restaurant, but I want to. And I'm going to have to because honestly I love finding new shit to do or new restaurants or events and my friends aren't fully onboard with that always. Also, no one from this group likes the band citizen and they're playing here in the city and I have to go whether I'm alone or not. Eek.

Will keep you updated on the rest soon.

xoxo anon

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honking-up-a-storm · 1 year ago

Text

6/23/23

Using this page to start off the day cuz idc that there's some doodles already on it. I think it's gonna be another slow day, 4 handicap spots are open, more open past the entrance, and the main lot is very empty. It could fill up who knows, but my hopes aren't very high. Funny how active online I was in 16'-17', maybe it's because that's when a lot of current websites came out that have a clear record. Ungh, I want to do something where is everyone? I guess I can get some reading done today. As long as my feet hold up I guess. I knew there would be slow days, but slow and standing in one spot is killing me. Oh! I bought the book so I can properly do this, it should be coming in 5-14 days, though the seller is in state so it should be quick enough. One car, not gonna touch it since it has the handicap adapter on it, I could drive it but I don't wanna adjust the settings. I think this writing is good for a least cracking a dent in this book. Had a very deep dream where things were okay again, makes no sense. If it's a premonition, I don't want it. Could try reaching out to her though. I feel bad and I miss her. Taking the easy way out isn't cute. There's totally shit going through my head right now that's too fast to write FFS. It's cuz I'm thinking about IT, which is annoying. I've exhausted all thoughts on the subject, made my conclusions, pretty much moved on less than a week later due to good timing on the new circles. I guess I'm frustrated with my exit. I had more time than I thought. I guess it's only natural to have wanted things to go your way. It just sucks cuz I wasn't attached to those thoughts and words anymore and the grief I have for them is still very potent no matter how much I try to hide and deny It. I find it odd too that I didn't feel sad after, I thought over the scenario so many times that I was sure I'd just fall apart, but I didn't and don't feel sorry for myself cuz I was a full-on bitch who deserved it. The frustration and grief are what linger. And I think grief is the appropriate word bc jesus christ I loved them, I loved all of them and I don't know why I was that fucking monstrous (Well therapy helped find the route of that but still, tldr: Family source, took that kinda shit talking as a normal way to vent and be done with it bc worse shit has gone around the house and yet everyone claims to love each other, should have never done it to my friends). And I'm frustrated because jesus christ even though I don't remember much of the exit I know I was just spewing bullshit and was pissed beyond hell that it was happening while I was not in a good spot mentally and physically. They probably think I threw myself into therapy because of the situation, but nah it's because for the first time in my life I let myself stand a little too close to the edge of the train platform and envisioned some things. But shit the only thing that stopped me was my own fear of death and that girl who got her leg torn off by the green line a few days prior. Anywho I'm glad I'm better, obviously not cured or perfect but much much better. My paranoia is gone, I'm less irritable, and life is just enjoyable again. It's kinda funny how I'm working a job where I was only in it for the money (financial issues strike again when the V work is said) but like I'm having like actual fun working, it's literally the perfect job for someone with ADHD, every day is different and I get to move a lot, interact with a lotta people. Also like I work with cars all day, I love driving. I'm in my pink era, I'm starting to love life again.

Notes:

A - Truman show/ Fleabagging, mirroring, mimicking, repeating, fixations, extremely picky with food, shutdown rather than lash out

M - Overstimulation, IFYKYK, sensory issues

N - Can drive, good balance

it feels like summer again

I am made up of so many things

Gift of the day from funny old dude regular: 3 Musketeers bar

"FTM" license plate is real

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mbb-project-entity · 2 years ago

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Chapter 24

Chad woke up on Monday morning with a headache. What a weird dream, he thought to himself! I can’t believe that I would ever dream about anything as gay as that dream. It was so weird—this Master Bob guy, being fucked by a couple of dogs, sucking on Master’s cock, going shopping with Christy for new clothes, sucking off the starting guard on Arlington’s basketball team and then sucking off Master’s cock and sharing it with Christy. Too strange! Even coming home was bizarre. He came home dressed in Christy’s pink camisole top and white hot pants that made him look like a fag to begin with. His parents thought nothing of it and he showed them all the new outfits that he had bought. He even modeled a couple of the really gay ones for them and they seemed very supportive of his new lifestyle.

Oh, well. I guess even the best of us ladies men have these kinds of weird dreams, Chad said to himself. He jumped out of bed and into the shower. He paid particular attention to making sure that he was really clean. I can’t wait to get to school. I’m going to get into one of those cheerleader’s pants tonight. Suddenly, he got real sick to his stomach. He couldn’t stand it. His mind was focused upon a naked cheerleader’s cute ass and it was making him sick. Chad then remembered his dream and sucking off a guy’s cock. As the image replaced the girl’s image in his mind, the sickness left and Chad began to get really turned on. His little dick started to get hard. Chad didn’t seem to even notice that his cock had shrunk to the size of a five year olds’ dick. “God—I’ve got to get a hold of myself and stop these gay thoughts!”

Chad got out of the shower and dried off. He paid particular attention to how his hair (was it longer?) was styled. He even put on some really great smelling aftershave, which he never did. Chad went over to his underwear drawer. He pulled out a tight fitting thong. Although he had always worn boxers, he really loved how these tight white thongs fit him (wow, do I look hot!). He then picked out one of his new shirts (tighter than he normally wore). He grabbed one of his new low rider jeans and pulled them on. He loved the look of the outfit on him and really liked the fact that the t-shirt rode up on him and exposed his stomach. Chad then finished the outfit with a new pair of shoes. He really thought he looked good today. As he looked at himself in the mirror, Chad didn’t even notice how he put his hands on his hips and modeled much like a female high fashion model.

Breakfast was a blur. Chad’s mom kept commenting on how good he looked and how much she liked his new look. Chad gobbled down his breakfast and headed out to school. When he arrived, some his buddies yelled over to him. When Chad waved back to them, he didn’t even realize how limp wristed the wave was. He walked in with the guys to his first period class. He kept noticing the guys walking in front of him. He thought how great they looked in their jeans. He could not keep his eyes off of their tight asses in their tight jeans. Inside, Chad started boiling over. He hated these thoughts—he wasn’t gay. But he could not seem to stop gay thoughts from coming fast and furious. He kept thinking about guy’s bodies and his little dick started to get hard. When his buddy Jeff showed up, Chad could not help but think about the package Jeff had in his jeans. He knew that Jeff was hung like a racehorse and he was so turned on by that thought.

All through the morning, Chad struggled with his thoughts. He kept telling himself that he was a regular guy but every time he would look over at a girl and think about her (which was his normal classroom activity), he would get sick to his stomach. He would then quickly switch and start thinking about some guy in class and how hot his body was and how much Chad would enjoy caressing it. He would get so excited from this and the pleasure would almost take over his body. The guys were starting to get creeped out by the way that Chad was staring at them.

Luckily, Chad managed to make it to lunch. He fully intended to sit with his buds on the basketball team but then he saw Lance Peterson sitting in the corner by himself. Chad would normally never give Lance the time of day except to give the queer a hard time. But today, well, Chad saw Lance in an entirely new light. He could not believe how handsome Lance was and how hot his body was. Chad felt himself getting so turned on by Lance. Inside, he was seething. Get away from that fag, he told himself. But he could not seem to really control his body and found himself walking over to where Lance was eating lunch. He felt his heart start to race, as he got closer to this really hot guy.

“Hi, Lance. Do you mind if I sit down and have eat lunch at your table?” Chad said in a chirpy voice. Lance looked up and about had a heart attack. This was one of the big jocks in the school. What did he want with Lance? Why was he even talking to him (normally, the jocks only talked to him to call him a fag or a queer)? “Sure, help yourself”, Lance said cautiously.

Chad sat down opposite Lance and was so happy that he was able to sit with him. For his part, Lance wondered what was up with Chad. He was dressed so different—almost in an outfit that screamed gay boy. Chad started talking to Lance in such a nice way that it made Lance relax a bit. Chad told Lance how he was going through a bunch of major changes. “You know, Lance, I used to be such a dumb jock but now I really have become much more sensitive and tuned to the environment around me. I used to only think about how I could get laid and get into some girl’s pants. I’ve really decided that that is not for me. There are so many other interesting things to do or people to get to know—like you.” Lance was really taken back at all of this. For his part, Chad was screaming inside to stop this god awful talk with this fag but he could not stop himself from continuing to flirt with Lance.

“I would really love to get to know you better. You really are a very interesting and handsome guy. It’s amazing that we have never been friends. I’d really love to get to be good, close friends if you know what I mean.” Lance was smiling on the inside. This big jock was hitting on him! He could not believe that this lady-killer was now acting like some smitten little fag trying to pick him up. He even felt Chad’s shoes rubbing up against Lance’s. Chad kept looking deep into Lance’s eyes. Yep, this guy really is hitting on me!

It did not go unnoticed in the lunchroom. Why was the school’s number one jock dressed like a queer and now sitting down engaged in a very friendly discussion with the gay guy Lance? They seemed very friendly. Chad even kept reaching our and touching Lance on the elbow or on his hands. They looked like a couple of fags preparing for a hot date!

Which was precisely what Chad had in mind. He really wanted to figure out how to make Lance, this really hot guy, want to take Chad as his lover. Chad thought that Lance was the most handsome and hot guy that he had ever seen and he was determined to make him love him. Just being around Lance created so much pleasure in Chad. He was so disappointed when lunch was over and they would have to go their separate ways. He asked Lance if they could have lunch again tomorrow. When Lance agreed, Chad was so happy that he leaned across the table and gave Lance a little kiss on his cheek. The entire lunch room saw it and could not believe it.

Chad was in seventh heaven. He actually kissed Lance on the cheek. He loved the feeling of seducing this really hot guy. But he ran into all kinds of trouble after lunch. His friends kept calling him a fag and a fairy. They wondered what was wrong with him. Chad on the inside felt like he was going to explode—why couldn’t I tell them I’m not a queer? Outside, Chad just smiled and took the abuse. He didn’t care what his old friends thought about him. He only cared about Lance and getting to know him.

It continued over the next couple of days. On Tuesday, Chad wore a t-shirt that said ‘Mad About Boys’ on it and another pair of light low rider jeans. He had lunch again with Lance. Lance could not believe that this former jock was really hitting on him. Chad sat right next to him in the lunchroom and kept whispChloeg in Lance’s ear. He felt Chad’s hand on his knee. Lance also felt different. Whereas in the past he was a very docile person, he started to feel very dominant. Whereas before he was considered a weakling, for some reason his body was really toning up and getting muscular. His dick had even grown and looked to be nearly nine inches long when hard! He had no idea that Bob was making these changes happen. Lance began to think about Chad as becoming his little bitch toy. He thought Chad might be fun to be a fuck boy for him and a cum receptacle for Lance. He could not believe how overtly gay Chad had become.

“Do you want to be my little bitch?” Lance asked Chad. Chad was overjoyed. This was exactly what he wanted and to be the bitch of the hottest guy in the school was so exciting. “Oh, yes. I’d love to be your boy toy.” Lance smiled. This could be fun.

“If this is what you want, I want you to shave your body below your neck tonight. The only hair I want to see on you is a little tuft of hair above your pathetic dick—you know, like a porn star. And I want you to wear something really sexy and really gay tomorrow to show me you really want me to take you. Now, come over here and give me a kiss.”

Chad was shaking when he leaned over and gave his love a wet kiss on his lips. He felt Lance force his mouth open and felt his tongue explore his mouth. Chad could not believe it—he was being French kissed by this handsome stud. He loved the feeling of Lance’s lips and responded accordingly. Chad put his arms around Lance’s neck and hugged him as they kissed. The entire lunchroom looked at the two fags making out. Most were almost sickened by this display of gay passion.

Finally, Lance broke off the kiss and told Chad that he would see him tomorrow and they would do something special. As Chad walked away, he felt Lance squeeze his ass and it felt so great. As Chad was leaving the room, a couple of his teammates cornered him. “What the fuck is up with you? When did you become such a queer? I thought you were out to fuck Christy and now you just seem to want to act like a fairy with that fag Lance. You had better straighten your act up or else!”

Chad almost cried. “You guys don’t understand. I love Lance. I really want to be with him. I’ve always been this way and I guess I just hid it from everyone. Please leave us alone.” The guys walked away shaking their heads. They told the sissy that he had better not try anything in the basketball locker room or they would make sure he got kicked off the team.

Chad managed to make it through the rest of the school day. He got to basketball practice early so that he could get dressed before the rest of the team arrived. He was shooting foul shots (or at least trying to) when the rest of the team arrived on the court. “Look at the sissy fag. He even shoots like a girl!” It was true. Try as he might, Chad was shooting the ball just like a girl would. It was like he had not strength as most of the time he had trouble even getting the ball to the net. The team began to scrimmage and Chad was awful. He ran like a girl and shot like a girl. The rest of the team kept calling him a fag and a sissy. Inside, the old Chad kept trying to come out but the new queer Chad was all that people saw.

At the end of the horrible practice, Chad and the rest of the team were sent to the showers. “Don’t try anything funny, you little fag,” said Mike. When they were all in the shower room, Chad couldn’t help but look at the guy’s tight butts and their big cocks. He really loved how the guys looked when they were soaping up their bodies and especially when they washed their dicks and balls. His little cock started to get hard. “Hey, I think the little fag likes us. Have you ever seen a more pathetic little dick on a guy.” The team all laughed at Chad and told him he had better be thinking about quitting basketball and taking up knitting or maybe even cheerleading. “A fag like you would probably love to dress up in the cheerleaders skirt and top and wear a bra and panties, wouldn’t you fag?”

Chad was crushed. He just kept on sobbing and got dressed as fast as he could. His former friends were all abandoning him. Thank goodness he had Lance. He could not wait to spend more and more time with Lance than his old friends. Lance would love him and Chad would love him back and that was better than basketball anyway.

Chad got out of bed the next morning. He looked at himself in the mirror. He looked really hot with his newly shaved body. His legs and chest was baby smooth. He had shaved his cock and balls perfectly smooth. He just left a little ‘porn star’ tuft of hair above his little dick. His ass looked really cute—it just kept on getting rounder and hotter looking. He got dressed—wearing a pair of tight bikini briefs, a baby blue tank top, a pair of khaki slacks that were so tight and a pair of shoes with a medium heel. He wanted to look hot for Lance so he had picked out a shirt that was short and exposed his midriff. He spent lots of time getting his longer hair just right and ended up pulling it back in a ponytail.

The day went by like a flash. Chad paid little attention in any of his classes since he could not wait for lunch so he could see Lance. And then after school—well, who knew what might happen after school! At lunch, Chad snuggled up to Lance at the lunch table. Lance seemed even taller and more hunky to Chad. He was really so hot today. Lance loved his little swishing ex-jock who was trying so hard to seduce him. Lance had discovered he was gay when he was in junior high school. Being a skinny and unattractive guy, he had never really had many relationships and he was always the submissive one when he did get with a guy. Now, it was like a dream come true for him. He had always fantasized about getting it on with one of the really hunky jocks at the school. For whatever reason, Chad was now playing into his fantasy. Lance was now going to be the dominant one finally; in fact, he was feeling so dominant now and could not wait to break this new boy toy down and make him his personal fuck slave. He knew that he could turn Chad into anything that he wanted him to be.

Chad just hung on every word that Lance said and held on to his arm as they ate lunch together. Outwardly, Chad would do anything to win Lance’s love. Inside, his brain was sickened by the way he was swishing around and acting. He couldn’t believe he would wear a blue tank top that said Boy Toy on it. He could not stop himself from throwing away his real maleness and acting like a swishing fag trying to get fucked by this Lance guy. Try as he might to break the spell that seemed to be on him, he couldn’t stop himself from holding hands with Lance, from thinking about how good it would be to sleep with Lance and from kissing Lance. He was sickened by all of this but he could not stop himself. He really could not stop himself from whispChloeg in Lance’s ear, “Why don’t you come over to my house after school today? We can go up to my room and I will make it very worth your while. If you want, you can even spend the night. My parents know that I am gay and don’t really mind if I would bring a guy over for the night.”

Lance was thrilled. He was going to get a chance to fuck this jock over and over. But he wanted to play with Chad’s mind again. “I don’t know. I may have something else to do that is better.” Chad was crushed. He began to tear up and sob as he sniffled and begged his desired lover, “Please Lance. I love you and I will do anything for you. I really need you to come over to my house and let me make you feel good. You can do anything to me. You can fuck me in my mouth or in my ass. I’ll suck you off so well. You will love being in my mouth as my tongue licks your beautiful cock all over. I will be your little boy toy and fuck slut. I’ll make sure that you feel so good. You can do anything to me—tie me up or spank me or beat me. I only want you to be happy and will do anything to please you. Please, please please come over!”

Lance loved seeing this former jock so humiliated that he was in tears begging Lance to come over and fuck the shit out of him. Lance lifted poor Chad’s face up and dried off his tears. He told him he would come over after dinner and play with Chad. He gave Chad a gentle kiss on the lips.

Chad was so happy. He was going to be very, very good for Lance in bed. The rest of the day seemed to blur by. He didn’t even notice all the verbal abuse he got from almost everyone in the school. Chad could not wait to get home and get his room ready for Lance. He cleaned everything up and even put satin sheets on the bed. At dinner, he told his parents that Lance was coming over and they were so thrilled for their gay son to have a special friend come over to spend the night with Chad.

Chad was so fidgety waiting for Lance to come over. Finally, at 7 pm, the doorbell rang and when Chad opened the door, it was Lance. Chad rushed into his arms and gave him a big wet kiss. He took Lance by the hand and brought him into the house. Chad introduced Lance to his parents who told the boys to have a good time. He then led his new lover up the stairs and into his bedroom. Chad was so nervous that Lance would not like it but Lance seemed to think it was a pretty neat room. Lance sat on the bed and told Chad to do a slow striptease for him. Chad was only too happy to comply. He slowly took off his blue tank top to reveal his tight stomach. Chad reached down and unbuttoned his khakis and slowly pulled them down his legs. He was now clad only in a tight pair of briefs. He turned around and wiggled his newly rounded and sexy ass at Lance. He very slowly hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his briefs and began to pull them off. He continued to wiggle his ass at his lover while his pulled his underwear off. Chad was now completely naked. He turned around, embarrassed by the size of his little dick.

Lance loved the look of this fuck boy. He was totally shaved below his neck except for a cute little tuft of pubic hair above his little cock. He cock looked like a little boy’s dick. Lance loved the look of Chad’s bubble butt. He motioned him over and told him to kneel at Lance’s feet. Chad immediately fell to his knees in front of Lance. He would do anything for his lover. Lance looked down at his boy toy and felt the power to control him growing. He told Chad to take Lance’s shoes and socks off and clean his feet with his tongue. Chad feverishly removed Lance’s shoes and socks and immediately started to lick his feet with his tongue. Oh, how he loved making Lance happy and he loved licking his feet and cleaning them. Inside his mind, Chad could not believe that he was now naked and on his knees giving this other fag a tongue bath for his feet. He was so embarrassed by all of this.

Lance loved the feeling of having such control over Chad. He looked down at the boy licking so energetically at Lance’s feet. He told Chad to stop and told him to lie over Lance’s lap. “You need to have your ass reddened a bit by getting a spanking. Chad got up and immediately lay over Lance’s lap. He felt the sting of Lance’s hand as he began to get spanked. Got, this was such a turn on. His tiny cock began to get hard. He could feel Lance’s huge cock through his jeans. Lance continued to spank Chad’s bare ass. He wanted to hear him cry. Chad tried hard not to sob but finally he couldn’t hold out any longer. He began to sob like a girl. Lance loved hearing his new sissy crying and stopped the spanking. “You needed to be punished and now you can get your reward.”

Chad knew that the spanking was for his own good. He stopped his sniffling and was so happy when Lance told him to undress him. Chad unbuttoned Lance’s shirt and took it off. He rubbed his hands all over Lance’s hot chest. He then undid his jeans and unzipped him. He feverishly pulled down Lance’s pants and removed them. His lover stood in front of him clad only in a pair of tight briefs. Chad caressed Lance’s tight bottom through his briefs. Lance’s big cock was straining at the front of his briefs and Chad could not wait to see it. He pulled Lance’s underwear off and both the boys were now naked.

Lance pulled Chad’s body up against him and began to kiss him. Chad felt Lance’s tongue enter his mouth and explore it as his own tongue gently met it. Chad felt Lance’s huge erect cock up against his own inadequate dick. It felt so good to feel his cock pressing against Chad’s groin and stomach. Lance was squeezing Chad’s ass and pulling him up against him. Chad loved the feeling of Lance’s body against him and the delight of Lance deeply kissing him. Chad began to caress Lance’s body and pull him tight against him.

Lance broke off the kiss and told Chad to give him a tongue bath. Chad started with Lance’s face. He licked it all over, paying particular attention to his earlobes and his luscious lips. He then started to give his chest a tongue bath. He licked and sucked at Lance’s nipples and loved the taste of them. He sank to his knees and licked each one of his legs and thighs. He kept getting closer and closer to Lance’s cock but wanted to tease him a bit before he took that prize. Lance turned around and Chad began to lick at this ass. He loved licking Lance’s beautiful ass and spent lots of time on his butt crack—licking as deep as he could. He then began to lick and suck at Lance’s beautiful asshole. He began to rim it with his tongue and then began to playfully push his tongue in and out of the sexy hole. Each time, he was able to thrust his tongue deeper and deeper in Lance’s shit hole. He loved the taste of his lover and could not get enough. He knew that Lance loved this action.

Lance then turned around and faced Chad. Chad began to slowly lick Lance’s big balls. He loved the feeling of the balls on his tongue as he played over the surface of the wrinkled balls. He then began to lick Lance’s shaft. He went up and down slowly and savored the feeling and the taste. He then started to lick at the massive head of the big cock. He could not wait to get this cock in his mouth.

Lance looked down at Chad. The big tough jock was nothing but a simpChloeg cock licker now. He loved the look of Chad’s tongue licking Lance’s cock. He knew that this jock was now his sissy lover. He told Chad to stop licking and start sucking. Chad was overjoyed. He began to take Lance’s nine-inch cock into his mouth. He loved the taste of it in his hot mouth as he sucked on it and rubbed his tongue all over it. He took more and more of the delicious cock in his mouth until he had all of it. He continued to deep throat Lance’s cock. It was so good. He loved the feeling of a cock in his mouth and just knew he was meant to be a cocksucker for the rest of his life. He could not image anything more exciting than to have another man like Lance as his lover.

Lance looked down as Chad energetically sucked on his dick. This boy toy was going to be good. He was a great cocksucker. Lance wanted to sample the rest of Chad. He told him to stop and bend over the bed. Chad looked so hot with his sexy bubble butt in the air. Lance grabbed some lube and put it on his big cock. He then lubed up Chad’s ass with his fingers. Chad loved the feeling of being finger fucked by Lance! He then felt the head of Lance’s big cock at the entrance to his puckered hole. With a push, it entered Chad’s ass and he began to moan with pleasure. Lance kept pushing his cock inside Chad until Chad could feel Lance’s big balls slapping against his ass.

Lance began to vigorously fuck Chad, ramming his cock in and out of the formerly haughty jock’s ass. He knew that Chad was enjoying it as he began to meet each thrust of Lance’s cock with his ass. Chad loved the feeling of getting fucked by Lance. This was what he was made for—to be a cum receptacle for his lover. He could not wait to feel Lance’s hot cum fill his ass. Finally, Lance began to shoot his hot cum in Chad. It felt like a quart of cum filled up Chad and it was awesome. Chad was moaning and almost sobbing as Lance’s hot cream filled up his asshole. He felt empty when Lance began to pull his cock out of Chad.

He told Chad to lick him clean. Chad was overjoyed and immediately took the cock in his mouth and began to lick the delicious juices off. He loved the taste of cock, cum and Chad’s own ass on the cock. He worked the cock in his mouth and made sure that Lance was very clean. He could feel the cum oozing out of his ass. He reached behind and scooped up some of the cum leaking out of his ass and put it in his mouth. He loved the taste of Lance’s juice. When he was done, Lance pulled him to his feet and once again deeply kissed him. Chad loved Lance and wanted him to never leave him. He would do anything to be Lance’s lover.

They made love over and over again that night. Master Bob had given Lance the ability to recover quickly. Chad took Lance’s cock up his ass again and sucked him off twice more. Finally, he fell asleep in Lance’s arms—content to be sleeping in his lover’s embrace. When he awoke the next morning, Chad gently slid down Lance’s body and took his soft cock in his mouth. He could not get enough of Lance’s cock! Lance began to stir and his cock began to harden in Chad’s mouth. Chad gave Lance an awesome blowjob and swallowed every bit of his tasty cum. He then took Lance by the hand and led him to the shower. The two lovers showered together and Chad washed every inch of his love’s body. He paid particular attention to soaping up and fondling Lance’s cock and ass.

The two boys dressed and headed off the school. They arrived hand in hand. As they departed to head for their respective classes, Lance leaned over to Chad and gave him a very deep kiss. The two gay lovers embraced in front of everyone and kissed. Lance was fondling Chad’s ass and Chad was rubbing Lance’s back. The two ended their kiss and went to class. The school could not believe that Chad was this much of a sissy fag to do all this right out in the open. But they soon got used to the sight of the two fags walking hand in hand or kissing or rubbing each other’s body.

Lance spent the next several nights at Chad’s house. He became the dominant one in the relationship. Chad was like a girl—waiting for his lover to make the first move and concentrating on only pleasing his man. He was truly a gay fag. He didn’t even notice girls anymore but only guys and only Lance in a sexual way.

When Lance awoke on Saturday morning to his usual morning blowjob from Chad, he was in bliss. When he came as usual in Chad’s mouth, he then reached down and kissed him. He quickly got dressed and left to run some errands. He was going to meet Chad for dinner that night.

Chad was getting out of the shower when he heard a knock on his bedroom door. It was Christy. “You do remember your appointments today, don’t you? And your first one is with the Arlington basketball team. I thought that they might like to get a blowjob from a cheerleader. You are now an honorary member of the cheerleading team and here is your uniform to wear today.” Christy pulled out a red, white and blue cheerleader, pleated skirt red athletic bra and cheer panties. “You will be such a turn on for the other team to see the star guard and captain dressed in a cheerleader skirt on her knees giving them each a blowjob. Time to get dressed and moving so you are not late.”

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slothgiirl · 3 years ago

Text

the medic (keith x reader)

17k. something weird’s going on with keith, like alien weird. as the team medic, you’re concerned.

“So he is avoiding me,” you muse aloud, grabbing one of the pink alien food biscuits that were Hank’s latest experiment. Though it had been hours since Voltron had taken out the Galra Empire’s presence on this Balmera, you’d only just seen the last of your patients. Altean medical equipment did wonders.

After a battle, you were hardly surprised to find Hank in the kitchen, grounding himself as he cooked. You were surprised to run into Keith.

“Yeah,” Hank nods, “Probably trying to avoid another dental exam.”

You flush bright red, “His teeth fell out! Sorry for being concerned.” Between you and Lance, you’d managed to get a look at Keith. A fist fight with some alien species that was cooperating with the Galra had not gone Keith’s way, knocking out two of his teeth.

Shiro, predictably, had waved it off and accepted Keith’s insane explanation that his teeth would grow back on their own without question: given his hand waving of the red paladin’s eyes glowing slightly in the dark, more than any human’s should (human eyes didn’t glow at all!). Hindsight was twenty twenty.

The yellow paladin shrugs as he mixes orange noodle-esque things in a bowl.

Team Voltron was full of strong personalities. Add in Lotor and his friends dropping in, there was always something going on.

Hank just wanted to unwind from spending the past few hours destroying heavy duty mining equipment without hurting the planet. “So how are the biscuits?”

You chew on one, still bothered by Keith. Maybe Hank was right and he was trying to hide something from your keen gaze. You hoped not. Knowing the red paladin, and after two years in space, you certainly did, he’d rather suffer in silence until there was no other option than get medical attention. Back on earth with needles and scalpels, you understood, but in the Castle of Lions…

“Kind of like a rice cracker,” you tell Hank helpfully. “In a good got snacks at H-Mart way, not the sad quaker oats rice snacks.”

“Oh H-Mart,” Hunk smiles, “they don’t have those in space. They do have salt though. Found that at the last market we went to.”

“As long as alien food doesn’t poison us,” you comment. It was lucky that hadn’t happened. It was alien food. But not one negative reaction which either made humans some of the most hardy species or you were just lucky.

“Yeah,” Hunk chuckles, “I’ve gotten pretty good at recognizing what’s edible and not. I know Pidge said there’s some books, but my Altean is pretty bad.”

“Languages are hard.”

“Wish there was a space version of google translate.”

“Hunk-”

“Yeah.”

“That’s genius!” You look at the yellow paladin, wondering how a universe with speech translators never thought to do the same for written language.

“I know,” Hunk smiles while popping another tray into the oven.

—————

Lance finishes painting your toenails. It was a rare day when there were no space battles or rebel meetings. “Pidge,” the blue paladin whines, “let me paint your-”

“Don’t even think about it!”

“It’s supposed to be team bonding night,” Lance counters.

“Lance,” Allaura frowns from where she’s sitting with Shiro, “the castle’s night cycle has not started.”

“Well we can change it,” he counters, “there’s no up or down in space. OR day or night.”

“You can paint my nails,” Hunk offers. “Won’t last long though between the cooking and the vents I’ve been cleaning. This is a 10,000 year old castle. No offence,” he glances at Allura.

“No offence at all. The battles have taken their toll and I’m sure Coran appreciates the help. He is only one man.” She lets out a sigh. The only other remaining Altean was a bittersweet subject for her.

Hunk kicks off his shoes. “My pleasure. Literally. This Castle is so cool. The artificial gravity alone!”

You watch the paint dry on your toes. Only your big toes had actual drawings on them, strange alien creatures you’d all encountered over your time in space. The others were clear with green and blue swirls. “You’re a good artist Lance.”

The blue paladin winks, “I’m a regular old Michaelangelo.”

You laugh, “of course you are.”

“And I’m not just good with a brush,” he wiggles his eyebrows, more boyish flirting than anything serious.

You roll your eyes.

Pidge throws a cushion at Lance. “Oh please like you’ve got past the first date!”

“I have! Vivian Tran from Calculus.”

“Can you focus on my nails,” Hunk asks, but Lance is busy waving the thin brush in hand as he argues with Pidge.

“And Atticus from Cantonese.”

“Didn’t you drop that class,” Hank asks.

“Well, the hindi teacher was way nicer and didn’t hate me. I was good at drawing the characters though.”

“Can you speak hindi,” you ask, having taken French for your language fulfillment.

“Eh-” Lance shrugs.

“Can you flirt in Hindi is the real question,” you ask with a grin.

“He can’t even flirt in English,” Pidge points out scathingly.

“Hey!”

“My nails Lance,” Hunk grumbles.

“Right. Right,” Lance focuses back on his task, going with a yellow that matches Shay. “What language did you take Shiro?”

“English.”

“How many dialects does Earth have,” Allura asks.

“A lot,” Shiro tells the alien princess. “The Garrison pushes being multilingual in its program. Most cadets were already bilingual to start with, generally covering major languages.”

“Ah.”

“Got bored of the training room,” Pidge asks Keith as he walks in, flopping down on an empty sofa.

“It timed out.”

“Sure,” Lance immediately starts, a dog with a bone, “not like you couldn’t beat it or anything.”

“You can’t even get past level 9!” Keith growls back, sitting up with a jolt, skin still slick from sweat and his cheeks were flushed with exertion.

Lance gets up, puffing out his chest. Oh boy, here they go again. The rivalry thing they had going on got old fast to everyone around them. While it did push them to be better paladins, it was annoying to hear. “Oh like you’re any better.”

Hunk takes the brush from Lance, finishing off his last toe on his own.

“I am,” Keith bites back, a growl still audible from his chest.

“Only because you cheat!”

“It’s not cheating!”

“How is it not-” Lance stops, furrows his brow, then grins. “You got a little something there.” And like a thirteen year old, Lance points and laughs.

Keith frowns, his hand coming up to his cheek.

Sure enough, Lance was right. Keith had a couple of angry red blemishes on his cheek.

“You have adult acne,” Lance giggles, immature as ever. He was always able to find an angle to everything. It was what made him such an excellent strategist.

“It’s not adult acne!” Keith scowls, scratching at the blemishes.

“Its been three years,” Lance retorts smugly.

You frown. “No. It’s been like two.” You look over at Pidge to confirm, “Right?” You were like ninety percent sure you were twenty.

“Two and a half,” Pidge answers.

“Ha! You’re twenty! Adult-”

“I don’t have adult acne!”

They’d fought over more meaningless things before.

If it was two and a half years, maybe you were twenty one? You frown. How old would you be before you ever saw your family again?

Stashing that depressing thought away, you focus on Keith and the red marks on his cheek like a line coming down to his jaw. “It could be a rash,” you utter thoughtfully. Pidge and you had already encountered a very itchy plant before. “Or space ringworm-ring line?”

For the first time in days, Keith looks at you, meeting your gaze. “It’s not a rash!”

You lift your hands up, “okay. Okay. Geez.” When it came to Keith, you didn’t push too hard. He was too stubborn for it to work.

Lance, however, “hey, it’s okay Keith-buddy, just use toothpaste.”

“Toothpaste makes it worse,” Hunk counters. “Not great for your skin either.”

“It always worked for me,” Lance counters. “Or a clay skin mask.”

“Clay? You mean that green mud,” Keith clarifies.

“It’s clay!”

“Clay would work,” you agree with Lance. “Hey it could be like a spa day!”

“I could go for a spa,” Hunk nods.

Pidge shakes her head, “right. I’m going to try and see if I can get a signal back home.”

Shiro looks over at you, “do you really think it could be something serious?”

You shrug. “No clue.”

Keith huffs, “Just drop it,” he states dramatically, headed for the door. He was over being the center of attention.

“So face masks?”

You nod, “want to try it Allura?”

“I would love to try the clay mask,” she smiles brightly.

——————

Te-Osh’s rebels had sent for Voltron, less fighting than rebuilding.

While you were no paladin, you had spent the majority of the day helping Allura take stock and synthesizing medicine, everything from serums to numbing gels. Just your luck the machine had overheated and given out on the last batch. It was a pretty large machine.

You stick your head inside, waving off the smoke. With your nails, you pry open the hutch and take stock. You were no Pidge or Hunk, still unsure how the thing even worked, but it was clear it needed a new regulator and starter. “Plenty of those lying around,” you utter, scrunching your face at the awful burnt hair smell. Your finger finds the ventilator button on your wrist controls, and there-the smell gets sucked out of the room.

“Is this a bad time,” Keith asks behind you.

Startled, you bang your head on the mental. “Keith,” flushing hotly when you look back and realize you were ass up in front of him.

He doesn’t even notice, grimacing, hand rubbing his nose bridge.

“What’s wrong?” You hurry to wash your hands.

Keith sits down at one of the medbay tables. “My skull feels like it’s being cracked open,” he explains flatly.

You look him over closely, standing right in front of him. “Where exactly,” you ask, frowning when you notice the blemishes had grown to a full blown rash, hot angry skin peeling and cracking like twin marks down his cheeks. You should have pressed. What if it was a parasite? Keith was half galra.

It was easily forgotten given how human he looked. Sure, the signs were there: his unhuman night vision, more strength than he should have, good ears and nose, nails that had torn through metal, but it all faded into the background.

“Does it itch,” you ask, raising your hand, fingertips hovering over the marks on his cheeks.

“Yes,” Keith nods, averting his eyes from your gaze, “mostly it’s hot. And my sinuses…all the way down to my neck. Hurt.”

“Hm,” you turn, reaching for the medical scanner. There was no way you could ever go back to being a medical officer at the galaxy garrison. Earth’s technology was ancient in comparison. “Hold still.”

“Alright,” he says seriously. Keith holds his breath.

You look up at him, in his violet eyes, and smile before laughing. “Keith!”

“You said to hold still,” he points out sincerely, before the corners of his lips turn up. Keith was an expressive guy, his smile lit up his entire being, a lightness in his eyes that made you smile wider.

“Let’s try this again,” you giggle, clicking the scanner and aiming right at his rash first. “Pew.”

He rolls his eyes, snorting. “You too?”

“Mine’s the only right one,” you wink, then look over the reading.

“Not even close.” He scratches at his cheek listlessly.

Whatever reason he had for avoiding you had worked itself out. You’d missed his company.

“Oh yeah,” you challenge, “then what’s the sound?” The readings came up clear. Keith was in perfect health. So not a parasite…space allergies? Those wouldn’t come up on the scanner.

“What is it,” Keith asks, noticing your pensive expression.

“How’s your sense of smell? Stuffy nose?”

He looks up, then takes a deep breath, “now that you mention it…I can’t smell your soap anymore.”

“What?” This was news to you. “You can smell my soap?”

“And whatever planet we’ve been on,” Keith fidgets, blushing as he ducks his head, bangs falling over his eyes, “the soil. It’s all different. But I can’t right now.”

That was worrying. But if the scanner said nothing was wrong…you had to wait and see. It might clear up on its own. You’d give it a day or two.

“Nothing came up on the scanner,” you tell him, “so it should go away on its own. It might just be allergic to something out here.”

He nods, accepting your diagnosis.

“Let me get the medicine.”

“Mhm.”

You pass him a tube of gel and add that to the list of medication you need to synthesize once you fix the machine. Then grab a weekly supply of pain tabs. “Here.”

Keith pops one in immediately.

“Let me know if it doesn’t clear up in two days,” you tell him.

“Worried?”

“Eh, I can always set Lance on you again,” you snort. Shiro was a pushover when it came to Keith. He was no help.

Keith laughs, looking a little more himself. “I could take him.”

“You could,” you agree, “but don’t tell him I said that.”

He tilts his head, smiling. “Coming? Shay got food for us.”

“I’ve got to fix this machine first.”

“Need help?”

“Might ask Hunk or Coran,” you admit.

“I could-”

“No,” you cut him off, placing your hand on his shoulder, “go eat and rest. That’s an order.”

Keith leans into you. “Are you going to write me a doctor’s note too,” he asks, his delivery always so earnest you had to do a double take to figure out if he was joking or not.

“If I have too,” you stick your nose in the air. “I’ll even send one to Zarkon.”

Keith laughs easily. “Why didn’t Lotor think of that.”

You snort. “I’m going to check your lymph nodes,” you tell him, taking a step towards him again. “That okay?”

Keith tilts his head back, “Go for it.”

“Wow,” you chuckle, “who are you and what did you do with Keith Kogane.” You brush his hair out of his face.

“What?”

“Remember when you broke your arm,” you point out, gently pressing your fingers over the side of his throat, feeling the swelled bean shaped lymph nodes under his ears, behind his jaw. “And said nothing for like a week?” It had been your first year at the Galaxy Garrison.

“It was only a sprain,” Keith grumbles.

“Still!” You laugh, “I’m glad you asked for help.” Because this was still Keith and you didn’t want him to think you were laughing at him.

“Mm,” he closes his eyes as you trail your fingers lower, making sure it wasn’t too bad.

The fact they were inflamed at all worried you. You had no clue what was the space equivalent of antihistamines.

Keith’s breath tickles your shoulder, deepening and evening out like he’d finally relaxed. That was most of your patients once you gave them answers and they knew they’d be getting care and treatment. You liked helping people.

You pull your fingers back, ever the consummate professional. It was like the ghost of your garrison advisor was hovering over your shoulder. “They’re not too swollen if you can still eat. Can you still chew?”

“Hm?”

Keith opens his eyes. His expression is glazed and feverish.

“Keith,” you utter, worried.

“Yeah?” His gaze is heavy as it meets yours.

Your skin warms up because he wouldn’t stop looking at you like that.

“Any jaw pain,” you ask, focusing on the task at hand. You bring your hand up to his forehead. He was warm.

Keith leans into your touch, “no.”

“Good.” You bite your lip. Could it be some weird galra thing? Wouldn’t it have come up? You feel your own forehead. He was for sure warmer.

You were going to have to corner Coran about it.

Keith lets his eyes fall shut again and honest to god purrs, leaning into you.

Add cornering Lotor to your list.

You don’t pull away, figuring it was harmless. Lance, Hunk, and Allura were more prone to random hugs. You were more than happy to indulge Keith as well. He already wasn’t feeling well.

You wrap your arms around the red paladin’s shoulders, hugging him, “I’m looking forward to a break from Coran’s post mission food goo once I get done with the machine.”

“Mm.”

He was completely out of it.

His breath tickles your cheek.

“Though I’m not sure there’ll be any left if I don’t go there? Maybe I should grab a plate and then come back here,” you ramble. Keith had never sought you out for comfort. It was touching that he trusted you now. You’d been friends with the others before, with Keith and Shiro and the Alteans, you had skipped right over friendship and gone right to family.

“Oh.”

You look behind you.

Te-Osh takes a step back, “forgive my intrusion. I was unaware-”

Keith snaps out of whatever was going on with him. Bolting off the exam table. “It’s fine. We’re done here.” He hunches his shoulders and beelines for the door.

You frown, still processing.

“I can come back,” Te-Osh tells you, glancing between you and the door Keith had just escaped through.

You shrug. “No. I’ve got time. What do you need?”

“If you’re sure?”

Nodding, you smile, “yeah, what can I help you with?”

———————

“Here is where we will focus the blunt of the attack on. Keith, Lance, engage the fighters. Hunk,” Shiro explains, “you’ll be with me taking out the communications towers. We want to keep the damage to the minimum. The resistance leaders want the factory intact. Pidge-”

Pidge waves the Black Paladin off, “I’ve got the code written.”

“It really does come in handy,” Lance observes, “all those vents are Pidge size.”

The green paladin grumbles, “easy for you to say when you’re not the one crawling around in there. It’s not your knees getting banging up.”

“Well the galra are all like nine feet tall,” Hunk points out, “the vents probably aren’t that small from their perspective.”

Lance unsubtly glances over at Keith.

His rash had cleared up, but not before spreading. In its place were two purple slash marks running from his cheek to jaw, galra markings. No one had pressed…yet.

You were just glad it wasn’t some weird space parasite.

Her brother ruffles her hair, “Pidge sized! A micro pidge,” Matt jokes to himself.

She smacks his hand away, “five feet is a perfectly reasonable size.’

“She could still have a growth spurt,” you add, though it was highly unlikely.

“No,” Matt’s eyes go comically wide as he hugs his sister, “not my hobbit,” relishing in her embarrassment.

“Matt!”

“In summation,” Allura calls you all back to attention, “the paladins will take out Galra forces and Pidge will open the weapons factory up to Vexuin rebels to take over. I will be manning the Castle to ensure no fighters target the work camps and coordinating communications with the rebels.” She turns to look at you, “Matt and you will take down the sentries, freeing the people from the work camps.”

“No!”

Everyone looks over at Keith. The horror on his face is easy to read.

What had brought this on?

Shiro clears his throat.

Keith ducks his head, letting his bangs obscure his features.

“Why not,” Pidge asks grumpily, time was running out. You were all just ironing out the details, “your plans suck.”

“Pidge,” Shiro chastises.

The green paladin was right.

Keith fought the same way you played video games, caring about nothing but reducing the enemies stats to zero. He’d gotten great at teamwork, but he was hardly a strategist.

“Keith,” Allura asks, “do you have any legitimate reasons why Matt should go on his own?” And when she phrased it like that…

The red paladin crosses his arms over his shoulders.

Pidge taps her foot on the floor.

“Okay then,” Shiro takes over, “let’s get to our lions.”

“Coms. Come in earthlings!,” Coran chimes in over the system, “remember this planet’s atmosphere is toxic to breath, too much sulfur in the air, not to mention the heat will give you all a taste of the slipperies. And worse! So keep those space suits on Vol-”

“-Tron,” Lance grins back, having taken a liking to having a kooky space alien uncle.

You lock your helmet in place as Matt pilots the pod towards the work camps. They were just as grim as the first time you’d seen them. It was the same all over in many of the Empire’s work planets. They were at the bottom of the totem pole. There were some planets where the native species and Galra coexisted more or less peacefully, this was not one of them.

“So what’s up with Keith,” Matt asks you.

You shrug. “No clue. I keep waiting for Lotor or one of the Blades to drop in so I can corner them but he’s a picture of perfect health so I’m not worried.”

“But the,” he takes a hand off the wheel, motioning to his face.

You frown, arching a brow. You’d never looked at Allura quite the same after the way she had treated Keith upon learning about his heritage. It’s not like he’d been a completely different person, she’d known him for over a year.

Matt might be Pidge’s brother, but you weren’t about to let anyone get away with giving someone you loved shit. Especially not Keith who would just silently take it.

It made your chest ache, thinking about how sweet he looked when he smiled. He didn’t deserve any of it.

“What about it?” You stare back at him cooly.

Matt focuses back on landing the pod just beyond the sentires line of sight. “Nothing. Pidge figured it was nothing, didn’t even seem curious. I figured you might know, you two are pretty close.” He glances over at you meaningfully.

“We’ve known eachother since the garrison,” though you hadn’t really been friends. Keith had been kind of a loner. You’d tried to include him, having shared a couple classes with him here and there, but he’d never taken you up on any offer.

“Right.” He doesn’t sound all that convinced. “Glad to hear it’s all good. I caught the sneazles while in the work camp,” Matt makes a face.

You laugh.

“It was horrible! But also like an episode of spongebob somehow?”

“Space is weird.” You had way bigger problems and had seen stranger things by now. For fucks sake, you were saving dragon looking aliens from the Galra right now. This planet was like a silent hill game!

Thick fog obscured the rocky landscape. Even from within your suit you could smell the stench of rotten eggs. Yet this was home to the Vexuin.

Shiro gives the signal.

You take the safety off the taser gun Pidge had built for you. Anything pilfered off the Galra was too large for your small stature, just a hair shorter than Keith. The gun packed a punch, with enough voltage to take out the robots.

Matt and you get to work.

“Almost got it,” Matt mutters as you take aim and shoot.

Stupid damn biolocks.

“Hurry the fuck up,” you tell him, dodging a shot from another sentry before frying it with your own weapon. One shot, one sentry. You needed to take them down before they got close. The robots were durable and strong. You knew better than to think you could go hand to hand with one, you were a medic not a fighter.

“I am, I am,” Matt insists. “Ah there,” he grabs a taser flash bomb out of his pocket and tosses inside the sentry outpost.

You shoot again, trying to keep your hands steady. It was easy when it was just programmed machines. Nothing to feel bad about.

Matt and you rush inside, stepping over more fried sentries. You take position at the entrance, gunning down anything that makes its way towards the two of you.

“You in,” you ask him.

“Patience my young apprentice,” Matt says, laughing at his own joke, “it’ll take a moment for my worm to work its way through the software and give me complete control.”

The ground shakes as the main part of the battle takes place outside, at a monsterous factory that’s gray, chimney shooting out smoke. You can only see hints of lions shooting and Galra fighter ships lighting up the sky.

The sulfuric fog coats everything.

You taste rotten eggs on your breath.

Inside your suit, sweat runs down your back.

“Okay,” Matt chimes into the coms, “I’ve hacked the camps. Ready to open the gates.”

The rolling low grutal voices of the Vexuin rebel leaders fill your coms, “Good.”

“Go ahead Matt,” Allura gives the order, “Voltron?”

Pidge answers, “dropping in, should override their” static, “ticks.” Then an explosion reverberates in your ear where the communications device is.

“Pidge,” Keith yells out.

“Keith cover Lance,” Shiro grunts out, blasts audible from here. “Pidge?”

Nothing.

Matt’s face goes ghostly white.

“Pidge, come in Pidge?” Allura asks. “Paladins? Are you able to reach Pidge?”

“Negative,” Shiro replies, “Hunk, take the main gate! Time to land.”

“On it.”

“Guys,” Lance yells, “the shield’s down. Pidge hacked them.”

“Keith,” Shiro yells, “wait!”

“Fine.”

You decide to hope for the best. There was nothing you could do for any of the paladins all the way from here. “Turn it off,” you tell Matt.

He steals himself. “Right.”

The lights of the compound go out. Sentries power down where they stand, puppets with their strings cut. Locks disengage, and for the first time in decades, the Vexuin are free to leave the barracks free from Galra supervision.

You and Matt go out to meet them.

“I could get used to this,” Pidge calls out as everyone meets on the planet’s surface. Rebels come in from the forest slowly, making sure this is for real, before sniffing the air and calling out to their loved ones lingering around the liberated camp complex. Their vision worked in the infrared, all the better to see on this planet. You’d need at least three showers to get the smell out of your hair.

Keith carries Pidge, careful not to jolt the youngest member of Voltron. She holds a leg stiffly, a sprain or fracture.

Matt rushes to his sister, “Katie!”

She waves him off, “I’m fine.” Then snaps her fingers, “Down.”

There’s a small smile on Keith’s mouth as he places her down on the ground gently.

Lance comes up behind Keith, ruffling his hair, and being every bit himself as he comments with a smirk, “good boy.”

The shorter paladin smacks Lance’s hand away, but it’s too late, Lance is already smothering Keith in a hug that turns into a competition, like always with those two. Keith shoves at Lance’s face while Lance tightens his grip on Keith.

Shiro clears his throat, “paladins.”

“A dobesh in the pod,” you ask Pidge as Matt gets his turn to fuss over her.

“Yeah. Landed right as an explosion went off,” Pidge frowns. “Not my best moment, but my program still did it’s job and,” she pats her bayard, “I took them out.”

“Can’t be that bad if you can stand,” you agree. Nothing serious but you’d be keeping an eye on her all the same. The faster she got into the pod and took weight off her injury the better. You didn’t want to exacerbate the sprain.

“The jet pack helped,” Pidge points out.

“Lucky you,” you grin.

Shiro and Allura are consummate professionals as they go over the last of the logistics with the Vexuin, “It would be wise to stay until your people have situated themselves in case the Galra Empire retaliates,” Allura states, ending her sentiment in a question, “but it is ultimately up to you.”

The Vexuin chatter among themselves for a moment before one speaks up, “we would not turn down Voltron’s help. A few quintants should be enough time.”

“Then we will make ourselves of service to you,” Shiro nods. “Please, let us know anything we can help with.”

A red scaled one smiles, showing off her many sharp and jagged teeth, “our people long to see the camp destroyed.”

Hunk offers, “I could help rig a controlled explosion.”

“Very good.”

“The system inside the weapons factory is down,” Pidge tells them, “but I can reprogram it to keep the Galra out so that you can decide what to do with the place.”

“Oh no you don’t,” you cut in, “Matt can take care of that. You’re going in a pod first.”

“Pod person,” Matt mutters under his breath with a snort.

“Then let us get to work,” Allura dismisses everyone.

Pidge tries to take a step, and almost falls over.

You grab her.

Her face goes crimson from the pain.

The adrenalin must have been keeping the bulk of the pain away.

Keith picks her up.

It’s not until you’ve loaded Pidge in for three vargas that you pull off your helmet, savoring the crisp clean air of the Castleship.

“I can still smell the sulfur,” you comment, wrinkling your nose.

Keith shakes his hair out.

You look at him thoughtfully, “must be worse for you though.”

“Why,” he asks, genuinely puzzled.

“Because your nose,” you point out, then frown, “your sinuses did clear up yeah?” He never said anything about it so you figured they had and he could smell fine again, but you weren’t sure.

“Oh. Yeah. They did.”

You smile fondly, “very convincing Keith,” you tell him, reaching out to him. He lets you run your fingers right under his ears, behind his jaw. Everything was in order.

A knot of anxiety dissolves in your chest.

“Well,” he asks, “satisfied?”

“Mhm.” You look at the purple markings on his skin.

Keith’s breath hitches. His gaze is trained on you, watching carefully.

“So if not rotten eggs,” you ask, slowly bringing your fingertips over the marks on the sides of his face, giving him every opportunity to pull away, “what do you smell?” You couldn’t help it. It was that scientific curiosity. Everyone at the garrison had ended up there because they were nerdy in some way: devoting themselves to some STEM field while other kids were watching cartoons. You’d had a stutter as a kid, self conscious about it too, so instead of trying to make friends you read your textbooks under your desk, racing ahead.

Keith’s eyes meet yours. There’s a level of vulnerability in his gaze that worms its way into your chest and all of a sudden you’re incredibly aware of how close you two are, the lack of space between your bodies, your fingers caressing his skin.

You look away, focusing on the marks. They were purple, which was obvious. His skin itself had grown purple, perfectly delineated.

“Like wet soil,” Keith explains finally, “when they just added fertilizer.” You wince, remembering the smell of the horticulture center wafting through the garrison’s campus during the spring. “And garlic.”

“I like garlic. I’d kill for some,” you tell him, sounding very much like Hank. You hadn’t expected to be homesick for food. “Best food they served at the cafeteria.”

“That’s not saying much,” Keith mutters, amused.

You chuckle, pulling your hands away from his face.

He leans forward, asking for physical comfort in a very Keith way: unsubtle and wordlessly, putting the onus on you to get the hint.

Pidge must have freaked him out more than he was willing to discuss.

You wrap your arms around his waist, hugging Keith. “Pidge’ll be fine.” Sure, she was younger and short, but she was more than capable of handling herself. “I’m more concerned about how she left the other guys,” you comment lightly resting your chin on Keith’s shoulder.

His shoulders shake as he laughs easily. “They asked to surrender to her personally.”

“That’s Pidge all right.” You glance over at the pod. She’d be back on her feet in no time.

Keith’s breath against your skin feels nice. Your heart flutters in your chest and you find yourself blushing and pulling away, thoughts racing as you realize just how much you liked this boy. You pull away, unsure what to do and suddenly finding it too awkward to be around him at all.

The start of a whine escapes his throat before he smothers it, looking away, as he lets his bangs fall over his eyes, effectively hiding his easy to read features.

“Let’s go help the others,” you say, fumbling to grab a med kit and click your helmet back in place, your face too warm and it must be obvious. You didn’t want to make things weird. You didn’t. But-

“I’m going to stay here until Pidge wakes up,” Keith tells you.

“Oh. Okay.” You nod. “That’s a great idea. It’s always confusing as hell to get out of the pods.” It was akin to waking up from a midday nap: completely confused and exhausted instead of rested.

Your skills would be more useful with the Vexuim than fussing over Pidge at the moment. And having something to do would keep your mind off Keith.

—————

“You know,” Lance comments, sliding up to you as you watch Lotor strut away from you after another failed attempt to talk to him. “If we bottled up whatever galra repellant you have going on, we could defeat Zarkon with perfume.”

You look over at Lance, trying to suppress a smile. “What would you call it?”

“Starlight.”

“That’s-that’s actually pretty great,” you tell Lance.

“I know,” he grins. Then the latino boy sobers up, “trying to find out what’s going on with mullet?”

You nod. “I even tried to corner Acxa,” you admit. For an eight foot tall purple alien, boy could she make herself scarce.

Lance’s eyes widened in delight, “like could and should peg me Acxa?”

You groan. “Lance, sometimes it’s okay to keep things to yourself.”

“I’m just saying,” he laughs, “the ship’s not that big…”

“It’s designed for six thousand people.” You’d learned that fun tidbit while practicing your Altean with Pidge.

“Like for real!”

“Yeah.”

“Ay dios mio,” Lance utters, “you’re screwed.”

You finally hit the motherlode.

Lotor and his generals are in a stately room that reminds you of the socratic lecture halls at the garrison, sofa arranged in a half circle, with Shiro and Allura. The former Prince had shown up for a reason beyond making a nuisance of himself. Allura looks at her wits end with him, as he smiles like a douche, her eye twitching.

She invites you in without hesitation, “take a seat next to me,” and effectively uses you as a human shield against Lotor.

Literally since you and Shiro were the only humans here.

“Everything has been thoroughly discussed,” Lotor comments dryly, snubbing you once more. Normally, you wouldn’t have cared but you were trying to get information out of the man. “Unless either of you have further questions?”

Shiro hums, rubbing his chin, “I know saddling you with a rebel ship or two will slow you down but I don’t see another way around it. A display of size on their part will go a long way to show it is an alliance and not the Galra Empire hy another name.”

Allura nods, a small smile on her lips as she looks over at Shiro, “The black paladin is right. It will be a steep hill to climb to show that you are not the Galra Empire. Their fears would be alleviated with the presence of the rebel alliance.”

Zethrid sucks in a sharp breath, “So that’s it then. We will always be scorned and merely tolerated.”

“Time,” Shiro sighs with a look of gentle understanding at the muscular woman, “they need time. You can’t erase 10,000 years of history. It is hard to extend trust after being imprisoned and enslaved.”

“The alliance has started coordinating with you and the Blade directly have they not,” Allura asks stiltedly. It was by the necessity of time that they had stopped going through Voltron first. Lotor might be too smug for his own good, but his team was effective at sabotaging warships and infiltrating Galra ranks to liberate prisons and cities, enough to turn the tide for the rebels.

Her feelings towards Lotor and the Blade were still tinged with suspicion, her treatment of them lukewarm at best.

Still, Lotor brushed it off and continued to help. “Well then, Princess, Shiro, we have a long journey ahead of us.”

Shiro nods.

They shake hands.

You stand up, ready to corner Lotor.

“But first a word Shiro, it is a private matter.”

“Yeah, sure,” Shiro leads Lotor away.

Your eye twitches.

That snake!

Zethrid and Narti walk purposefully away as Allura pushes in her chair, ignoring the last two of Lotor’s team. “Princess,” Acxa, tries. “Until next time.” She nods at you, “stay safe.”

Allura gives the woman a strained smile, hooking her arm with yours. Human shield.

“You too,” you tell her. She doesn’t wait, already halfway out the door. You sigh.

Ezor giggles, by far the friendliest and easiest to get along with of Lotor’s team. “Stashing food and water will cut down the embarrassment by half.”

“What?”

“Oh,” she shrugs, “I guess Lotor was right. Darn it! Now I owe him one hundred GAC.”

“Wait-”

But she scurries off.

“Ugh,” you kick the wall, tired of everyone being weird. The usual frustration with being caught up in a space war was just the salt on the wound.

Your toe throbs, “fuck,” you hiss.

“They are rather tiring to deal with,” Allura agrees, reading the situation wrong, “but it hardly calls for assaulting the Castle.”

“Sorry,” you flush red with embarrassment. “I just had a question for Lotor and he seems intent on never being in the same room as me.”

“Ah-,” Allura smiles easily, “Lance did mention that you were in possession of a Galra repellent.” The twinkle in her eyes lets you know she was in on the joke.

“Come, let us work our frustrations out with some introspection.” Which was just Altean for weird breathing exercises that supposedly helped you do alchemy. She had managed to rope you into practicing with her before.

“Anything to spare the wall,” you joke.

——————

You walk back from the library. It was a cozy room, especially when you dimmed the lights. The Castle was always so bright, designed with the Alteans sight needs in mind.

Sometimes you just needed some time away from everyone. You loved them, but spending years with the same people while floating through space…you had no clue how Shiro had managed it.

Getting a walk around the ship was also nice. It was easy to forget how big the Castle was when you mainly stayed on the same three floors. Just a couple months ago Coran had rediscovered the greenhouse. The plants were a little piece of Altea, and had quickly become one of Allura’s favorite spots.

The windows were wide portholes. It unnerved you still, looking out and not recognizing any star, any constellations.

A lump of homesickness lodges itself in your throat. It had been over two years, your siblings would have grown so much in that time. You certainly had. The last vestiges of childhood had gone from your face.

Acne cleared up even without Lance’s ten step routine.

You walk across the bridge, trying not to look down. The viewing platform was clear glass in space, you could lay on it. It freaked you out a little.

It was the only constantly dark place in the castle.

You still yelp when you spot Keith, his eyes luminous violet like a glow in the dark t-shirt. That should have tipped all of you off, but alien was not the first thing that came to mind when you previously believed aliens had never visited earth.

He whimpers, curling up further.

“Keith,” you gulp, focusing on him and not the glass separating you from the void of space. “What’s wrong?”

He looks up at you miserably, blinking sluggishly. “I have the worst migraine.”

“And you’re down here instead of getting painkillers?”

Keith shrugs. “It’s not as bad, quiet. Dark.”

You sit down next to him. “I can go get you something,” you offer, your cheeks warming up and it was ridiculous how you can’t even manage to act normal around him anymore.

“Coran already gave me a dose.”

“Oh.” You were hurt. You were supposed to be the medic. That was your role on Team Voltron.

You hug your knees to your chest, and look down at space. It was darker than the photographs back on earth. Not so purple and blue.

You weren’t Matt who was just as good as Pidge with technology or Allura who was the leader and a princess to boot, you’d just planned on having a late dinner with Hunk once he got over the motion sickness before Lance roped you into following Pidge. You weren’t a paladin.

Keith shuts his eyes. “You were with Allura. I didn’t want to bother you.”

“It’s no bother.” You swallow thickly, letting silence fall over you both.

You listen to Keith breathing, looking around the darkness of space for any familiar stars. You knew the space around Shay’s Balmerra, and Arus was at least a little familiar. But the universe was so vast and wide.

There were planets you’d only ever been to once, each with a different night sky. Some of them never even had a night, with multiple suns staving off a night cycle.

“Do you think Allura minds?”

“Mind what,” you ask.

Keith clenches his jaw, rubbing his temples. “That I look more Galra.”

Allura has always been harder on the Galra. For her, it had been such a short time since Zarkon had destroyed her world and her people. You didn’t agree, but you could understand where she was coming from, the pain still there as she continuously wore Altean mourning pink.

You look over at him, the outline of his body against the glass. “I think your marks look cool.”

“Bullshit.”

“I do,” you whisper gently, considerate of his migraine. Those were the worst. “They frame your face. You look nice,” you finish lamely, looking away. You look nice. Lance might say stupid things but at least he tried.

“What if I looked even more Galra?”

“Like completely purple and tall?” You couldn’t really wrap your head around it. It also seemed incredibly unlikely. Could his phenotype change so drastically? On earth the answer was no, but who knows how the Galra work. It was fascinating to see such a wide range of traits in one species.

He was also half human.

You worried if his body would even tolerate such a drastic change.

“Yes,” he says, not waiting for you as he rants in agitation, “the rebels hate the Blade and Allura doesn’t trust them at all and that’s not even mentioning Lotor.”

“That’s not true. Te-Osh likes Acza and Ezor. Lotor’s kind of annoying if we’re being honest, and I’m sure his being Zarkon’s son makes it a little hard to believe he’s on our side,” you try to reason. “And don’t write off the Galra who have changed sides or were in the camps right alongside other aliens.”

Keith says nothing in response, mouth a thin line as he thinks.

You wonder how long it’s been bugging him.

You want to reach out and hug him, but he isn’t Hunk. You’re not sure he’d want to if he’s not initiating the contact. So you don’t.

“Everyone knows how the last Galra paladin worked out.” A low growl in the back of his throat is enough to clue you in to how distressing this was for him.

Your heart hurts. “And everyone knows you’re not Zarkon,” you state evenly back. “We already know you’re Galra.”

Keith snorts humorlessly. You can’t see his eyes; they’re hidden by his bangs.

“The glowing eyes are not exactly subtle dude,” you point out, “not to mention your hair does the poof thing guinea pigs do when they’re eating, but not when you’re eating, more like when you get annoyed.”

“I-what!” His eyes go comically wide as he sits up. His dark hair does the thing, making him look like a character from those old Japanese kids movies.

You giggle, “you’re doing it.”

Keith tries to look at his reflection in the glass.

You blush, grateful that it’s too dark to see, and then realize that wasn’t true for him, so you look away, hoping he didn’t notice. “Yeah. I’m the medic, it’s my job to know these things. Like how Pidge has two webbed digits on her foot and Lance is allergic to flax seeds and bees.”

“That…makes sense.” Then he smiles, “still didn’t put two and two together.”

“Don’t be a smartass.” Reason number three thousand Iverson had it out for him back at the harrison. “And if anyone has a problem with you I’ll kick their ass.”

“You?” Keith snorts. “You wouldn’t even flip me during self defense.”

“You remember that?” You run a hand over your face, “I didn’t want to hurt anyone,” you always took forever to practice on your partner. And your weak arms didn’t help.

“That’s what the mats were for.”

“Still!”

Keith laughs at your expense.

You smile, taking delight in watching him smile and laugh and you wish it could always be like this and the war would just end.

Then you sober up. “You’re going to be okay, right?”

He doesn’t answer you right away.

“Keith-” you reach out, voice cracking. “You’re going to be okay, giant purple space cat or not, right?”

He takes your hand, squeezing it firmly. “Yeah. Don’t worry about it.”

“Good,” you utter, but tears bead up in your eyes anyway. It was terrifying watching someone go through something unknown that you couldn’t help them through for all your medical training. You knew how to set bones and run a pod…not whatever this was.

You trusted Keith.

He knew himself better than anyone. After all, he’d been right about his teeth growing back.

“You really are worried,” he whispers in disbelief.

“Duh.”

“I can smell it on you,” then he seems to realize what he said, and pulls away, ducking his head. Like he hadn’t meant to say so much.

“Really?” Learning about anything alien biology was pretty cool, you had to admit. Allura had once described colours that you couldn’t perceive. It was a fun talk. And then she’d made you meditate for alchemy stuff or so she claimed. It might have just been payback. “Is that new?”

“Yeah,” Keith admits, still drawn into himself. “Can we not-I already feel like enough of a freak already without,” he waves aggressively at himself.

You bite your lip, nodding. You wanted to say something, to get it through his head how you saw him, incredibly kind and fiercely loyal (to the point of taking on Zarkon by himself) and an endearing smile you never got tired of seeing.

You liked him.

The universe was lucky to have him as a paladin.

But you don’t know how to say it in a way he’d accept. And he asked you to drop it, so you do. “Right, I’ll just go then.” He’d been here first, and the glass made you nervous.

Could it withstand a hit from a galra battleship?

Keith opens his mouth like he wants to say something else, but he just nods, then winces, “Argh,” he groans as he curls up on his side, covering his ears with his hands.

You rush to his side, kneeling next to him, “Keith,” you utter softly, not wanting to make it worse.

His eyes are pressed close and for all your medical know-how, you’re at a loss.

So you running your fingers through his hair soothingly and wait for the pain to pass.

He shifts, laying his head in your lap as he whimpers.

You can’t stand to watch him and do nothing. You press your com, pinging Shiro and Coran. This was beyond you. He’d trust Shiro with whatever was going on and he’d gone to Coran. You respected that even if it did sting.

Your pride meant little so long as Keith felt comfortable and sought help.

“Shh, shh,” you whisper gently.

Sweat beads on his brow.

Whines escape his throat.

“Fuck,” he grunts, clenching his teeth.

He’s warm to your touch and that rouses another bout of worries. At this temperature it’s a fever, but he didn’t have the symptoms, the flushed cheeks and chills.

Keith curls up further, muscles stiff.

You’re helpless.

After what feels like ages, Shiro and Coran finally appear.

“Number four, Number five,” Coran claps his hands.

You hold out your hand, motioning them to shut the fuck up as Keith winces at the sound.

His hair is damp near his ears.

“Keith,” Shiro utters much more gently, kneeling down on his other side, “I’m here, I’ve got you.”

He raises his head, blinking groggily at Shiro, trying to concentrate through the pain, “Shiro,” he reaches for his brother who easily pulls him against his chest. Keith buries his head in the crook of Shiro’s neck.

You sit back, trying to get out of the way. Your hands are wet.

You look down and realize it’s blood. His ears-

Oh god.

“Number five,” Coran says gently, helping you up, “I’ll take great care of our Paladin. Why don’t you go get cleaned up.”

You don’t get any sleep that night.

——————

You were always struck with cognitive dissonance walking around colonized planets like Rahiri where the natives and Galra lived side by side. This was not a planet ravaged by the empire. The flora-like aliens in all shades of green with rootish limbs and leaves and petals for hair had assimilated into the Empire, achieving citizenship over generations. 10,000 years deca-phoebs was a long time. That was a huge source of tension in the Alliance, what to do with the world who neither wanted or wished to leave the Empire.

It was also a source of dark humor that no one spared the four of you a second glance despite two paladins of Voltron walking around.

Hunk holds Shay’s hand in front of you as they point and awe and drag their feet on the way to the space port.

“You could always stay with,” Hunk says hopefully, “we could just drop you off. Personal taxi service.”

Shay smiles back kindly, “that would be wonderful but I have been away from home for too long. I am, as you say, a homebody.”

“Aw, yeah,” Hunk chuckles, “I feel that. I like the ground. And dirt. Piloting is overrated.”

“Don’t let yellow here you say that,” Keith comments so dry, you think he’s serious for a second. Allura and Pidge had gone shopping for supplies. That was an advantage of a planet that had not seen war.

Hunk glances back, clearly having forgotten we had tagged along in case anything went down. “Yeah well, she’d like a small moon. Or an asteroid. There’s colonies on those.”

“Very true,” Shay laughs. “I think my balmerra is also like a moon. A beautiful creature. We have learned how to ask for crystals so we do not need to cut them.”

“That’s impressive. Did the books from Allura help,” Hunk asks.

As much as you liked getting to stretch your legs, seeing a different planet where the threat was not imminent, you didn’t like being a third wheel, or fourth wheel if you went according to Coran’s favorite numbering pattern. That inch difference between you and Keith mocked you.

You glance over at the red paladin.

His gaze kept flickering back and forth, around the street. The occasional loud noise of crates being unloaded made him jump.

“You good,” you ask Keith, cracking a joke so he’d know you weren’t judging him. “You see la llorona or Davy Jones?”

“Hm?”

“You know…a famous ghost? Do they have ghosts in space?”

Keith snorts, cottoning on. “They don’t even have ghosts on earth.”

You pull a face, “well that’s no fun. Seriously, you okay? Or have we been made?”

He shakes his head, glancing around again just to be sure. “So much for Zarkon’s finest.”

You laugh, following Hank and Shay into the space port. Shuttles were departing pretty consistently. Everything was in orderly fashion. You especially liked how no one was shooting at you.

“It takes some getting used to.”

“What does?” You watch as Keith shakes his head, making his hair fall back from his face.

Shay and Hunk go to the ticket counter, but you decide to find somewhere off to the side, wanting to give them privacy.

“Stuff.”

You roll your eyes at Keith, “you suck.”

He crosses his arms over his chest, leaning against the wall, looking anywhere but at you. “Lotor explained it to me and Shiro…what’s happening.”

“Oh.” You swallow, looking at Hunk and Shay hugging and saying their goodbyes yet again. They’d said them last night at dinner, this morning in the pod, and again when you’d split from Allura and Pidge. It was cute. They were adorable.

“Sorry.”

“Hm,” you glance over at Keith, not sure why he would be sorry about anything. He was the one getting screwed over by half of his heritage.

“You’re hurt.”

“You can smell that too,” you ask him, holding his deep gaze. There was an intense commitment to everything Keith did; it was reflected in the depth of his violet gaze. He didn’t do things in halves.

“Now I can.” He looks at his shoes, red dusting his cheeks. The red didn’t tinge the purple marks on his skin.

“So this is all,” you’re not sure how to put it, “nothing to worry about?”

“He said it was normal. But because I’m half there’s no way to know what to expect.” He looks away as he says it, stiff as he glances around.

The anxiety that had settled into your jaw since you’d had to wash his blood off your hands eases up. “Giant purple space cat,” you joke, nudging his side.

“Oh fuck no,” Keith grumbles. Even that furrowed expression that crossed his chiselled features made you feel all giddy inside.

Bad timing.

“I’m not hurt I-I just wish you trusted me,” you finally admit. It was silly. You felt selfish, so you tack on, “You know I’m here for you if you need me. We all are. I know Shiro’s your brother, but we’re your friends.”

“I know,” he sighs wistfully, “I do trust you…it’s just-it’s been hard. I don’t know how to feel about any of it and I’m not used to it either.”

“It’s fine,” you tell him, “I’m being silly, making this about me. As long as you know I’m here for you…I’m not trying to force you to tell me anything…” you cringe internally at yourself. The galaxy garrison had been made up of nerds, so it followed everyone was a character. It hadn’t helped anyone’s social skills.

You wish you could just go, I worry about you because I love you instead of stumbling through word vomit.

“Come on,” Keith brings you out of your thoughts, grabbing your hand and pushing through the crowd of people coming and going to different boarding gates, “I think Hunk’s going to need some comfort food.”

You glance around, finding Hunk’s form making it’s way to you both. He was wiping his eyes, bittersweet smile, making no move to really hide that he was crying.

“Let’s get back to Allura yeah,” he tells you both.

“Or,” you go with Keith’s idea, “we can get something to eat. Allura gave us a good hour or so.”

“Varga,” Keith supplies.

“Yeah, that.”

Hunk nods, “that sounds nice. It’s just,” he looks back at the departing shuttle, “it’s hard. It’s war and you never know when your going to see each other again but it’s not like she can just drop everything and I wouldn’t ask her too, if anything I’d like to retire there. Nice and quiet. Maybe open a restaurant…”

“Vrepit Sal two,” Keith offers.

“Could make it a chain,” you add with a smile. Hunk, like you, was not such a gung ho pilot. You had landed the flight simulation without crashing exactly once, for your final emergency protocol exam.

“Thanks guys,” Hunk grins, “but I think I’ll bring some earth out here. Give these people a taste of traditional earthlign cuisine.”

“So your menu’s going to be as long as Cheesecake Factory’s,” you ask with a silly grin.

“Maybe not that long. A burger, ramen, scratch that, pizza instead of a burger.” Hunk rubs his chin thoughtfully sniffing the air and following his nose to a food stand. You trusted him for food. He had a knack for combining goo and exotically colored food that screamed fake and poisonous into pretty great meals.

Keith was still holding your hand, not as a loose afterthought: every now and then he’d rub his thumb against the back of your hand and it sent a thrill down your spine.

You don’t pull away, wanting to savor the feel of his skin against yours even if it wasn’t that deep. You’d hugged and napped with everyone at least once, grabbing each other’s hands in the confusing crowded hovels of swamp malls (actual swamp malls and not places Coran thought of as a swamp mall).

You nab a table outside the stand.

Everything was in Galra which none of you could read. “Damn,” you mutter looking over.

Hunk glances at Keith without subtlety.

You were starting to think only Allura and Shiro could do subtly.

Keith raises a brow.

“Nothing,” Hunk looks down at his screen.

“Point and hope for the best it is,” you shrug.

“I love a good surprise,” Hunk nods, then looks down at his hands, “we’ll see each other again right? Shay…they’re pretty safe. And well…yellow’s got thick armour.” He sighs, resting his cheek against his fist, elbows on the table.

“Shay’s a badass,” you confort Hunk, “she figured out how to communicate with the Balmera and through the Balmera. She’ll be okay.”

“Yeah, she’s pretty freaking amazing,” Hunk blushes.

You order from an alien that somewhat resembles Ezor, all cotton candy color, and twiddle your thumbs, enjoying the rare moment of rest and relaxation.

“I could get used to this,” Hunk comments, savoring the strange dish he’d been served.

“Get a travel food show,” you tease, “I’d watch it.”

“It could be like this all the time,” Keith muses hopefully, “aren’t planets like this proof we could all get along.” He bites into the glowing blue lotus root shaped meal, and blinks widely.

“What,” you ask, looking over at him.

Keith grabs a napkin and spits out his food. “I think I just lost another tooth.”

“You think,” Hunk raises a brow, “how could you not notice a missing tooth?”

“Smile,” you nudge Keith sitting next to you.

He rolls his eyes, before fake smiling which was always so undeniably forced when he did it. You laugh, nodding, “yup, missing tooth.”

Keith frowns for a second, before continuing to eat.

“Oh,” Hunk utters, before he kicks your leg lightly.

You look up, meeting the yellow paladin’s searching gaze.

He looks at you with a knowing smile.

Heat rushes to your cheeks, the tip of your nose burning hotly, you look down, shoving a questionable sticky black slice into your mouth. It was easy to chew despite the sticky-ness, the flavor starchy and nutty.

There was no way this wouldn’t get back to everyone else in the Castle. No way.

They were all so nosy.

Oh fuck.

——————

“It sure is hot in here,” Lance says with a challenging smirk at Keith.

You roll your eyes.

Lance stretches, resting his arms against the back of the sofa, his hand tapping annoyingly against your shoulder.

Keith is unmoved. Or more accurately, Keith’s mouth twists as he tries hard to ignore Lance’s latest attempts to get him to remove his hat, a lime green thing that clashed perfectly as was his fashion sense, or lack of any fashion sense.

Pidge smacks her head, then peaks curiously at Keith: at Keith’s hat.

You flick Lance’s cheek. “Hey hot shot, don’t hug me when you’ve set the thermostat to ninety degrees.”

“Ninety five actually,” he winks, hugging you towards him. Ugh, you couldn’t do it. You’d already done away with your afghan coat, tied your lavender flannel around your waist, what more could you do. You didn’t have shorts in space. The skirts stored in the castle were breezy, but made you feel at risk of tripping over the hem with each step.

“Hm,” Keith voices, taking a seat, “reminds me of home.”

Hunk snorts, “really thought that through,” he tells Lance.

Lance is undeterred. “Could go higher.”

“I don’t think your cow would like that very much,” you point out.

The blue paladin sulks, looking down at you, “you’re just saying that because you like-”

You jab your elbow into his side.

“Ow! What ever happened to do no harm?”

“Technically,” you tell Lance, “I never graduated.”

“She’s got you there,” Pidge smirks from beside Keith. She was taking apart yet another radio. The signal had yet to reach earth.

“Thank you Pidge.”

She shrugs, “It’s true.” Then turns on Keith, “The hat, explain.”

He looks like he wishes he could merge with the sofa at that, slumping in his seat.

You decide to step in, “I’m going to turn the thermo down.”

Lance is quick to wrap his arms around your waist and pull you back onto the sofa, “come on, relax. Like mullet said, it’s homey.”

You throw him a dirty look.

“Keith?” Pidge side-eyes her fellow paladin. He’s sat up, gripping the sofa cushion so tightly he’s ripping hole into the ten thousand year upholstery.

“You okay there buddy,” Hunk asks.

“No.”

“Oh.”

Keith sucks in a breath, and with deliberate motion, pulls the hat from his head.

Oh.

Your eyes widen.

OH.

His ears had changed.

They weren’t nearly as alien as Allura’s, but no one would mistake their shape for human. Keith’s ears tapered up and out, portrudding, but it was more than just a pointed tip, the entire shape of his ears had transformed, resembling a butterfly’s wing. It was still human in color, but…

Hunk breaks the stunned silence first, “so are you going to like to end up purple?”

Keith ducks his head, wrapping his arms around himself.

No one else gets the chance to further interrogate Keith, or hear his own thoughts, because Allura calls everyone up to the bridge.

Lotor hailed the Castle of Lions. Everyone stands around the bridge while Shiro and Allura take the lead as usual. They might as well be twins given how well they got on, communicating differing ideas without undermining the other.

“There are nine warships in the system,” Lotor acknowledges, “I would be much indebted if you would do me the favor of sending Voltron for the aerial battle.”

“The Empire’s presence is still in its early stages,” Acza explains, “but their terraforming development for the planet will cause the destruction of the Talpidae living there.”

“Then we have no choice,” Allura clenches her fist, never one to sit back while there was something she could do about it, “we will provide air support. Sent me the coordinates so that I may Teleduv there.”

Lance is still obviously eyeing Keith’s latest development. It was readily visible, and you were fighting the urge to do the same.

But you weren’t also trying to flick his ears.

Keith growls lowly.

Lance sniggers.

Pidge offers Lance a piece of paper to make paper balls with.

Hunk sighs long sufferingly, having resigned himself to the more childish side of his two friends. They were terrors. Put Pidge and Lance together, and they were gremlins out of a horror movie made for elementary school teachers.

You slip your hand into Keith’s, squeezing reassuringly. It would take some getting used to like anytime someone got a new haircut, but you would. Like his atrocious boots, they’d become an endearing part of him.

Keith squeezes your hand back.

Shiro nods, agreeing with Allura, “have the Talpidae been contacted.”

“Very much so,” Ezor chimes in, “they’re funny little people. And their sensory-”

“The point Ezor,” Lotor sighs, rubbing his nose bridge.

“They sent for help to the rebels. We were closest to their system,” Exor elaborates with a shrug, “they do not have the background to fight head on, and will evacuate most of their people into bunkers, but they have been digging under the new construction and weakening the structural integrity of the Galra outposts.”

“Very well,” Shiro accepts, “Princess Allura and our chief medic will meet with the Talpidae as a show of goodwill.”

“Our only medic,” Hunk points out.

Keith growls, his hand squeezing yours hard.

You all look over at him.

“Red Paladin,” Allura says, trying to look as professional as possible in front of her least favorite of Voltron’s allies, “is something the matter.” She shares a look with Shiro, but otherwise looks unsurprised at Keith’s less than human ears.

Or maybe she’d make a great poker played.

“Can’t you meet with the Talpidae after the battle,” Keith utters harshly.

“They may need immediate tactical support,” Allura reasons, “we should be there in person to provide it.”

“It’ll be fine Keith,” Shiro adds.

Their words do little to calm Keith down. His dark silky hair puffs up. His grip on your hand tightens and you feel miffed. You’d been on the ground working triage before. You might not be a fighter or pilot but you could look after yourself.

You pull your hand out of his. “I really don’t see what the problem is,” you tell Keith pointedly.

“I’ll watch Allura’s back and she’ll have mine.”

Allura nods. “Our chief medic is correct-”

His ears twitch, “You’re not exactly a fighter.”

Shiro covers his face with a hand.

Your brows furrow. You’re livid. “So! I won’t be fighting. We’ll be in the bunkers with the Talpidae. It’ll be safe so it doesn’t even matter.”

“If it’s perfectly safe then you don’t need to be there,” Keith’s voice breaks, a whine escaping his chest but you don’t care, done with the conversation.

“Yikes,” is Ezor’s quiet whisper.

You’re not a paladin so you don’t care, you just stalk off the bridge ready to go scream into your pillow in frustration. Or better yet, go for a swim and scream underwater.

“Wait-” Keith follows you.

You ignore him.

“I just-,” he keeps trying as you stalk down the stairs, deciding your room was better after all if only because you could lock Keith out.

“Listen-,” he whines.

“I didn’t mean-”

“You didn’t mean what,” you round on him, hands on your hips, pissed off and maybe some of its was from being stuck on this stupid ship all the damn time but like eighty percent was earned. You might not be taking on a squad of Galra soldiers, but you could take one on if it came to it.

Keith at least has the decency to look miserable, sad chirrups in his throat as he crosses his arms over his chest and looks at the ground.

“Well?” You tap your foot on the ground.

“I just don’t want you to get hurt,” he finally manages. “Especially if you don’t need to be there.”

“But I do,” you counter, “There’ll be people running into those bunkers having escaped soldiers and sentries and the faster they get treated the better chance they have.”

“I didn’t mean it,” Keith repeats himself. “You-you can hold your own.” He looks up at you through his bangs, still hunched in on himself.

“Obviously.” There’s no heat, the anger having deflated already. It was just white hot ache in your chest, hurt at the idea that Keith thought you would get in the way, that you had nothing of value to add to the Alliance and Voltron.

You bite your lip.

Don’t cry, you think to yourself.

You were being dumb.

He was just being plain stupid.

“I mean it,” Keith repeats, “I’m sorry. I was just looking for an excuse to make sure you were safe.”

“Right, because Allura can handle herself but I can’t.” Your voice cracks.

“No,” Keith says in a rush, “it’s not the same.”

“Because I can’t fight?”

“That’s not,” Keith runs a hand through his hair, “It’s me okay. I’m-I’ve always jumped into things without thinking, but I decided to go for it, like breaking Shiro out but now I’m doing things before I even notice and it’s all these stupid Galra instincts!”

You swallow.

“I’m sorry,” he tells you once more. “I didn’t mean to and I’m sorry. No one thinks you can’t handle yourself. That’s why Shiro paired you up with Allura, because he knows you’re capable of watching her back.”

Your smile is fragile as you look over at him, “yeah?”

“Yeah.” Keith holds your gaze, looking as skittish as a stray dog. Another whine escapes his throat.

What the heck.

You hug him, “you’re such a dumbass.” You understood why he’d worry. This was war. Pidge was on a two man campaign with Shiro to get Matt to stay on the Castle, both scared witless that Matt might die on a mission with the rebels. Ulaz had died so everyone could get away.

You’d had patients in the last decaphoebs you could do nothing but ease their pain. You’d had patients that you couldn’t even administer anything for the pain because of how torn apart they were: guts spilling out, charred people shapes that you were surprised to still find breathing.

The images would never leave you as long as you lived.

“I’m sorry.” Keith buries his head in the crook of your neck, his breath tickling your skin sent shivers down your spine.

You hug him tightly, aware that every battle could be your last: the last time you saw him. “You’ve said that already,” you tease, memorizing the smell of him, stale sweat and something cloying that you had wanted to bottle up from the moment you’d met him and had never found on anyone else. As embarrassing as it was to admit to anyone other than yourself, Keith smelled good. Really good.

Most people smelled like nothing at all.

He stiffens.

“But it’s nice to hear again.”

Keith smothers a laugh.

You kiss his hair. Boys were so dumb.

He purrs.

You smile goofily, warmth building under your skin, and toes curling up in your shoes. You should say something. Right?

At some point?

Or maybe it shouldn’t be said under the looming threat of an upcoming battle.

Fuck.

You can’t decide, so you say nothing at all.

——————

Bombs still pelt the surface.

Your teeth chatter as the ground shakes even deep underground. Even more soil falls onto you. Your spacesuit was more oche than white at this point as you carry an injured Talpidae in your arms. It’s arm had been completely blown off. Sluggish blue blood oozed out.

Allura was last, tailing the group.

You reach the bunker.

The sentries had followed some of the feeling Talpidae into the tunnels, but they’d been sorted out.

The people here were strange, russet in fur colouring, with no discernable eye, just strange pink flagella protruding from their nose and large claws for digging. They stood at about Pidge’s height.

The bunker seals and you get to work.

Tourniquet here, pain patch there. There were so many of them banged up.

The fight continued on the surface.

The paladins had to form Voltron.

You and Allura work as a team, she takes the bruises and broken bones with no immediate risk of death. You triage the worst of the Talpidae, giving away your precious stash of painkillers to those you can’t save and are not in for a quick death, a Talpidae lies twitching, it’s nose blown off but alive. Another holds it’s hand, but shakes their head when they look at you. They weren’t going to make it.

Training kicks in and you focus on saving those you can.

Your hands stain blue from the blood.

Allura works alongside you.

You cauterize a Talpidae named Soedob’s hand, the claws on their right limb were gone, but most of it was spared.

“You smell Galra,” Soedob utters, blinking out of the pain induced haze as the painkiller kicked in.

You half hear, half don’t, so focused on the task at hand. It was easier to not stop until you were finished and could curl up and sleep and not think about blood and war and Zarkon.

“We have Galra allies,” Allura answers diplomatically, leaving the issue of the half Galra paladin alone.

It irked you.

“No, not them,” Soedob notes. “Those had a different aura.”

“Smell,” you guess, finishing off. You hoped the fighting ended soon. You supply was not unlimited. The castle had better facilities.

“Is that what you call it?”

“Our primary sense is sight,” Allura explains, giving you a long look.

You shrug. You hadn’t even seen any of Lotor and his team. There hadn’t been time. It had all been relayed over coms, over video.

“Another then?”

You swallow thickly, flushing with embarrassment because you both spent time around Keith but Soedob was only smelling him on you and it’s not like you had been doing anything intimate…well, it had felt intimate, hugging Keith, but it wasn’t anything like when cadets snuck into each others dorm room, shoving a sock on the door handle in the universal symbol of don’t bother us. “The red paladin is part Galra.” Mercifully, your voice doesn’t shake from the embarrassment, but you can’t look at Allura.

“Ah,” Soedob nods, neither outraged nor pleased.

Then there’s no more time, you have more Talpidaes waiting for medical aid. You give their own healers some of your supplies, freeing up Allura to find the clan leaders.

You can feel Allura’s questioning glance on you.

——————

“Team meeting in the mess hall,” Shiro calls over the coms system.

“Mess hall,” Pidge rolls her eyes, “it’s the dining room.”

You snort.

“I like to think of it as the dining room too,” Hunk offers. “I mean there’s only eight of us. It’s sort of like being home again.”

“Mess hall makes me think of the garrison,” you admit, falling into step besides them. “and the food.”

“Ugh,” Pidge groans. “That was the worst. Matt wasn’t kidding.”

“It does make the space packs easier to digest,” you muse, “maybe that was the point.” It took the garrison two years to get to Mars. It was funny, once you’d thought that was a long way from home.

“I liked the cheese garlic bread,” Hunk allows.

“Food goo,” Pidge grins, “or the garrison space food?”

“Food goo.” Hunk doesn’t even have to think.

“Food goo,” you agree. “Though not Coran’s paladin special.”

“You don’t even eat that,” Hunk huffs, half outraged half amused, “you’re always like well I’m not a paladin so…”

You laugh. “Seeing it is more than enough.”

The rest of the ship’s inhabitants are already there waiting for you. Lance is trying to teach Coran how to play slide, moving very slow as he claps their hands together.

Shiro and Allura are in easy conversation. Her mice scamper around her feet.

Keith looks absolutely miserable next to Shiro, folding himself into the smallest possible size, trying to disappear. It was hard to reconcile the Keith that was quiet with the Red Paladin that shot first and asked questions later.

You smile at him, excited to see him, but also figuring he could use some reassurance, whatever it was going through his head. Keith meets your gaze and the corners of his mouth turn up, before he ducks away.

You know better than to take it personally.

It was Keith.

Your toes curl inside your shoes and you bite back your smile, suddenly aware of how much you might be revealing and not wanting Lance of all people to start a meeting by commenting on it. For him, it might be all fun and games, but you weren’t sure what to do with these newfound warm and fuzzy feelings. You sure as fuck didn’t want to be called out on it.

You weren’t sure what to do about liking Keith so your current plan of action was: nothing.

“Thank you everyone for being here,” Shiro claps his hands together, his leader impression defaulted at awkward dad. He thought he always had to be on. Despite being the most trained out of us, he’d only just started his career during the Kerberos mission.

You wonder if he’d picked up his leadership style partly from Pidge’s dad.

“Where else would we be,” Pidge shrugs, never one to miss a shot.

“All the same,” the older man smiles.

“Yeah, no problem my dude, bro,” Lance flashes finger guns at Shiro.

You snort, taking a seat between him and Hunk.

“But seriously, what’s up,” Lance leans forward. “Or is this some lowkey way to keep us on our toes,” he winks at Allura who smiles indulgently.

“I await the news alongside you paladins,” Allura answers, hands resting in her lap. She looks over at Shiro.

The whole room turns to look at Shiro.

He had called the meeting.

Meetings tended to be informational in nature: updates about the expansive war, rebels hailing Voltron for intervention, the Blade passing on the rare bit of information, and the always popular distress signals. But Shiro and Allura both looked too calm for that.

Keith goes rigid, a spring wound up too tight.

Hm.

You wondered if the elephant in the room would finally be addressed.

Shiro puts his hand on Keith’s shoulder, smiling encouragingly the way a parent dropping their child off for their first day of school would, “go ahead Keith.”

The red paladin focuses his gaze on Shiro, his expression more sour than it’s been in a long time.

The past few years had done a lot to get him to open up to everyone on board, but right now, he looks exactly like the stubborn closed off cadet he had been back on Earth.

His ears twitch slightly. He manages to look even more taunt, and you wonder if he’s going to wave this off. Then, he lets out a breath.

His body is stiff, but Keith no longer pulls away from Shiro. He looks down at his hands pensively, nails cut to the quick. “Right.”

You can feel the nervous energy of the rest of the room, leaning in, waiting to see what Keith wants to say.

“Mhm, go on,” Lance says, chin in hand.

Hunk elbows him in the side.

“Hey!” Lance is about to start in on Hunk.

“Guys,” you snap, shoving Lance’s shoulder.

“Okay, okay,” Lance zips his mouth and throws away the key, “shutting up.”

“Looks like that didn’t work,” Pidge snarks.

“Paladins,” Allura’s clear commanding voice rings out. When everyone shuts up again, she nods at Keith, “you may continue.”

He looks up at everyone through his bangs, “I’m going through Galra settling.”

Hunk looks over at Allura, who was far more familiar with all this alien mumble jumble than anyone else.

Shiro squeezes Keith’s shoulder.

“And that is,” you prompt gently, before Keith hastily decided that was all he needed to say and left.

He meets your waiting gaze. Under the ship’s bright rooms, his eyes were obviously violet, heavy on the purple. He’s chewing his bottom lip like he isn’t sure he wants to go through with saying any of this and you wonder if he must be thinking of how weird things were between everyone when he learned of the alien part of his heritage.

Your mouth quirks up into a smile.

You were more than willing to stuff someone into a cryopod if they bothered Keith. He may be part of Voltron, tasked with defending the universe, but you’d make sure there was someone to defend him.

An embarrassing rush of heat bubbles under your skin. You look away, nervous.

“Shiro,” Keith asks.

Shiro nods, wrapping his arms fully around Keith’s shoulder. “Galra settling is when Galra,” he looked like he was trying to figure out exactly what he was talking about as he said it. Aliens were weird. “When Galra reach a certain age their appearance locks in.” Even Shiro looks a little puzzled. He was a pilot, not a biologist. You knew organisms back on earth who could manipulate their genotypes, generally sex changes with the right environmental conditions, but you weren’t sure there was anything comparable to whatever this was. “The Galra are apparently very adaptable in individuals. That’s why there’s such a range of them.”

Huh.

That explained the fur, range of tails, more reptilian looking once, and the eyes.

You wanted a Galra biology course, a full semester long one. What exactly caused such a plasticity in their phenotype? Did the trait have to be encoded in their genotype to appear or was there something freakier, Allura’s space magic, going on?

“-because he’s half human and we don’t go through anything like this it’s more painful than it would be. Lotor said the chameleonic abilities of Alteans helped him when he went through this,” Shiro finishes without a satisfying or thorough explanation.

At least Keith wasn’t dying.

Thank god.

Thank whatever freaky Altean magic existed in the universe.

“So,” Lance starts, “it’s Galra puberty.”

In a split second Keith loses any self consciousness about the situation, “it’s not Galra puberty!” His hair puffs up and you have to fight the urge to laugh, covering your face with your hands.

“There’s…” Shiro glances at Keith, before Lance and Keith could really get into it, “there’s more.”

Keith looks mullish, but ultimately gives Shiro the go ahead.

“Part of these..changes,” the black paladin explains, “have brought out some Galra instincts.” Clearly he was having as much trouble grappling with what this meant as Keith was. Your body suddenly deciding to change was no fun when you had no context for it. “Among them, the need to scent family…”

Pidge tilts her head, “is this like the most convoluted and emotionally constipated way of asking for a hug,” she asks Keith.

Keith smiles wryly, “pretty much.”

“Oh come here dude,” Hunk grins, engulfing Keith and Shiro in a hug.

“Ah number four,” Coran points up in the air, “I am now just recalling the galra that lived on Altea having explained this once, of course it didn’t occur to me because of the apparent dominance of your human genes.”

“So they’re actually co-dominant,” you muse as Lance drags Pidge along for a “group hug!”

“No.no,” Pidge makes a half-hearted effort to wiggle out, being a younger sibling herself, was used to being subjected to affection. She smiles even as she struggles.

“It would seem so,” Coran nods, “though not every gene.”

“Just these.” You wonder if there’s a space equivalent of the human genome project.

“Lance,” Keith yelps, “that’s my foot.”

“Buddy, I am not feeling the love here.”

“Is it working,” Hunk asks, peering at Keith, “are you going to turn purple now?”

“No one turns purple from hugs,” Keith replies, annoyed but makes no move to pull away.

“Thank you for trusting us with this Keith,” Allura smiles, her eyes crinkling.

“Get in on this too Princess,” Shiro motions over, before catching your gaze, “you too. Don’t think you can get out of this. You’re part of Voltron too.”

You snort, and join the group hug.

Pidge’s elbow is a bony thorn in your side and there’s the slight hum from Shiro’s prosthetic, but it’s a good mix of warmth and intimacy with the people you were closest to in the entire universe. Allura’s shoulder presses into you back and it’s sort of ballooned to ridiculous proportions, Keith somewhere in the center of it all, his hair barely visible to you.

“Add cuddling Keith to the chore wheel,” Pidge proposes.

Keith groans.

“How about we let Keith decide,” Shiro proposes.

You snort, knowing him too well. “Are you willing to take that risk? Died-from lack of hugs.”

Lance laughs.

Shiro looks convinced by your stellar argument.

“I’m not that bad,” Keith grumbles.

“You’re a terrible hugger,” Lance argues back. “You’re all stiff, like you’re enduring one of Iverson’s paradox sims. Not as bad as my abuelo but still.”

Keith lunges for Lance.

Someone topples over.

Everyone falls.

You laugh, smothered by limps and someone’s hair in your mouth…maybe Hunk’s? You don’t move, worried about kicking someone’s head.

From somewhere, Keith does that low rumbling chest noise that reminds you of a cat purring happily.

No one makes fun of him for it.

——————

“You should comb your hair before we take the pod down,” you tell Keith. You’d spent your free time before this alliance dinner scrolling through a datapad, trying to learn names, where they hailed from, species, things that may prove useful.

Half a varga ago, Keith had found you balled up on a sofa, and sat next to you, his way of asking for physical comfort. You’d obliged him readily, throwing an arm over his shoulders and spooning him as you both laid on the sofa. He was already in the paladin uniforms that Allura had dug out once the alliance became a reality instead of a loose string of rebel groups fighting the Galra empire.

You’re both short and slight, fitting together perfectly.

You squash any feelings you have, this wasn’t about you, it was about him. You’d done it a thousand times with Hunk or Lance, fallen asleep listening to Allura, why should Keith be any different? (You know why.)

He’s reading the screen with you.

“I doubt they’d notice,” he remarks as you scroll to a particularly vivid color alien race with sensory appendages sprouting from their heads.

“You have a point desert bum,” you tease, “I’d rather be a bum by a beach town. All surfer bro.”

“Can you even surf,” he asks flatly.

“No. Learned how to swim at the garrison,” you admit. “But tanning by the water has to be more appealing than roasting under the Texas sun.”

“I like the desert.”

“I know.” You were pretty sure everyone just liked their homes.

“It’s quiet,” he admits, “and watching how the sunlight transforms the landscape…”

“It’s too big and wide,” you admit, thinking of space. Flat land that went on forever…empty dark space that went on forever.

“Good for driving,” Keith smirks.

You laugh. Or course that’s where his mind went. “Sure, but it all looks the same, everywhere you turn.” It was disorienting. To be fair, you were a city girl. Your background noise was cars honking and people yelling even at four in the morning. The garrison had been a big adjustment.

“It’s really not. You just have to look.”

“I’ll trust my gps,” you counter, “not my sense of direction. I’d probably end up one of those cautionary tales about mirages and deserts.”

“You can’t really get a good signal,” Keith replies lazily, his body slack against yours, “out there. It’s best to mark a trail with chalk if you don’t know the area.”

“But you do, know it I mean?”

“Out past the Garrison? Mhm. All of it. We used to go hiking…before,” he trails off.

You press your lips to his hair lightly, before shifting, “my arms asleep.”

“Sorry.”

“I don’t mind.” You sit up, “it’s nice. I used to put my sister to sleep this one year she had nightmares almost every night.”

“You miss her,” Keith states, sitting up, looking at you with his intense expression. Having someone focused one hundred percent on you was a new experience. He wasn’t thinking of a thousand other things, just you.

“I do. I miss everyone, but,” you shrug, “I’ll see them again. Meanwhile you’re stuck with me.” You smile fondly at Keith. “I’m going to change before we have to go to dinner.”

“I’d take fighting Zarkon anyday,” Keith mutters, cringing at the upcoming show of diplomacy. There was so much smiling and hand shaking. It was exhausting to be that extroverted with a roomful of strangers.

Even Lance zonked out after these things.

“Knock on wood,” you laugh.

_____________

Treaties have been signed. A wrecked Galra fleet floats in space above the planet your on today, but today’s battle is won.

One of Lotor’s General’s is here, Acza. She’s wary, and surprised at the warm reception she’d received. She might be Galra, but she’d been crucial in taking down the Galra base’s shields. Biolocks, Zarkon should really rethink those.

You sip at your thick drink, warm and flavored like cinnamon oatmeal, that chases off the chill of the night. The idea had been to sleep, your hands still ached from all the sutures and stitches you’d woven, but Allura refused to hear it, dragging you along. There would be time for sleep on the Castle, she’d claimed, joyous to have helped another besieged planet.

“My congratulations,” a Blade utters from behind their glowing mask.

You jump, not having known there was even a Blade here. They were allies, yet their anonymity that made them so useful in information gathering, created a gap between you. You had no way of knowing who this person was. Their suit obscuring any details, the mask a rank.

You couldn’t even see their eyes.

“For what,” you ask, puzzled. You hadn’t fought. Your skills made you most useful after the battle, trying to save lives and patch up wounds. It was important and emotional draining work, but you hardly won battles.

Because of the mask, you can’t get a read on their reaction. Blades. Spies. Maybe if you could see their eyes…

They nod, and walk off without explanation.

You watch them go, still confused until they disappear among the bodies loitering around, celebrating liberation.

It was a feat to disappear when you were eight feet tall.

First the Galra had avoided you like the plague, the black plague, now they were being cryptic as fuck.

You lean your head down, trying to sniff your armpits without making it too obvious. Was it the blood? Or the space bleach? That tended to linger.

You didn’t smell that bad. Certainly like bleach and rubbing alcohol…

You take another sip of your drink, looking around for a place to sit. You’d been on your feet for too long. You wanted to sleep.

Someone would find you.

You wander around. Smiling when someone notices you, and thanks you and you hurry to get away before they ask you a hundred questions. There were only eight humans in space. Well, seven and a half. You stood out.

They wanted Voltron, but you would do.

“There’s space here,” Acxa calls out.

“Thanks,” you plop down next to her, sagging into the seat. Oh, yeah, you were so freaking tired.

“Of course. You look dead.”

“Yeah,” you look around the rebel camp, “I’ve no clue how they have the energy.”

“It’s like that everywhere. This is their home,” Acza offers, “people fight hard for their homes.”

You nod, before looking over at the alien woman, “not avoiding me anymore then?”

She shrugs, not disputing the allegation. “No need anymore, now that you and Keith sorted yourselves out.” She’s so blunt about it. “Galra are so sensitive when settling. We didn’t want to cause any incidents.”

“Is this about the scenting?” You still hadn’t had time to read through the information you’d gotten your grubby little hands on.

She nods.

You put your drink down on the mossy ground. “Yeah, Keith explained it. Well, Shiro did, really. Lance is over the moon about having an excuse to bother Keith.” Now you really all were a family. You’d named it outloud.

Acxa’s brows furrow, “Lance?”

“I think he just misses his family a lot,” you offer. “We all do and while we’re family too, it’d be nice to see our family back on earth too.”

She frowns. “Keith and you are not,” she asks slowly.

“Me and Keith,” you flush, ducking away from her. “No-I, no. We’re not.” You should’ve gone back to the Castle the moment Allura turned her back. She would’ve never known.

Acxa’s frown becomes tinged with anger and worry, her hand grabs your wrist. “Galra have more than one type of scenting, between families, and between partners.”

“Oh.”

You try to connect the dots but your brain gets stuck between ideas. Scenting. Keith. You. You and Keith. It was right there but-

“Keith isn’t marking you as family,” she explains slowly, “he’s marking you as his partner.” Acxa waits until her words sink in before adding, “to do so without letting the other know…” She makes it clear what a social taboo that is.

But you’re one step behind her.

Did Keith like you?

You think back to all the times you’d been with him in the past few vargas, trying to pinpoint any hint: he’d smiled at you but he was happier now in general so it could be a coincidence…

“If you need,” Acxa offers, “I will help clarify the situation.” It’s an awfully kind gesture.

“No,” you say in a rush. “no. It’s-I think I need to go talk to Keith.” He’d known what he was doing…you could draw a thousand conclusions but nothing would be better than confronting him about it.

“If you’re sure.”

“I am,” you stand up, glancing around. During parties, Keith tended to find a quiet corner out of the way. He’d opened up, but he was still more of an introvert.

You find Keith lying stretched out in the shadow of a makeshift building, looking up at the stars. It’s his eyes that give him away, reflecting the light enough to be inhuman, nocturnal vision.

“We need to talk,” you wrap your arms around your body. You weren’t angry, just confused. Didn’t he know he could just come talk to you about it by now?

Keith looks up, startled, then stands. “Alright.” He sounds resigned, a man sentenced to detention for a month which was janitorial duties at the garrison. It kept even the most smartass cadets humble.

You look around.

No one was really here. You could hear the music and people a bit further into the heart of the camp. Here was good enough.

“I talked to Acxa,” you start, “she said-” you look down at the trampled vegetation underfoot. It was embarrassing to your human preconceptions to even think, let alone say, which was why you were pretty sure Keith didn’t mean any harm. Scenting meant nothing on earth, where he’d grown up. “She said you’ve been scenting me, which like I know but not that way?” You look up at him as realization sets in and he ducks his head, looking away. “Is it true?”

He crosses his arms over his chest. “I-,” he takes a deep breath before ranting, the agitation and months of buried emotions flooding out, “I hate this. I hate that I can hear the conversation outside and smell which direction Shiro’s in and how much my eyes hurt on the Castle from how bright it is but I don’t-I can’t say anything because I’m already enough of a freak. Before I was just the weird kid but now I’m just a fucking alien freak! There’s always so much going on and I don’t even know what’s next!”

You wait, wondering if there was more.

It was a lot of changes.

You couldn’t understand, there was nothing in your life comparable to your biology deciding to be a little more Galra after twenty years.

“And I tried not to-,” he admits, meeting your waiting gaze, “I tried to leave everyone alone so you wouldn’t,” Keith swallows, forcing himself to continue with an obvious disgust at himself, “you wouldn’t smell like me or whatever Lotor explained but I couldn’t-it was driving me crazy like this itch, this buzzing under my skull and seeing you guys with others-I thought I was going crazy until Lotor explained. And then when Lance would ruffle my hair or you would check that I wasn’t about to fall over and die and-,” he waves his hands in the air, “I would just zone out.”

“Oh,” you utter, recalling past events with a newfound understanding. Keith had been reaching out, all instinct even when he was trying not to be a bother. It broke your heart, how he always came from the perspective that he was an inconvenience.

“I did know,” he says in a small voice. “That-you…but I don’t know if it’s me or this, or all these things happening to me.”

Your expression wobbles. You bite your lower lip, trying to get a handle on it. How silly to worry about a crush when Keith was going through it.

“I like you, but I don’t know if I like you or if it’s just these stupid Galra instincts messing with my head.” Keith deflates, drawing into himself. “Everything

s…it’s been a lot.”

“I get it,” you utter, “maybe not the situation but I’m not mad. Though Acxa was ready to kick your ass and she totally could,” you try teasing.

But Keith flinches, looking away guiltily.

“I’m joking. I-I get why. It makes sense. It’s a lot to get used to.” You swallow, not sure what to do about anything either.

“Its a huge offence,” Keith utters, “that’s why she was pissed. Made worse because you can’t even tell…I-I couldn’t think straight and I…it took the edge off.”

“Scenting me?”

He nods.

You take a step towards him.

“I-,” Keith’s eyes meet yours, his attention entirely captivated by you. It sends a thrill down your spine. You’d seen how he could be when laser focused: on piloting, on training. “I know they say it’s wrong but you and Lance do stuff like that all the time. And I thought…I figured I could figure out how much of what I’m feeling is me and how much of it are these new instincts.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” you tell him. “I-you’re right, it’s whatever to me. Like, a Blade congratulated me earlier which was weird but fuck them you know? I can ‘smile and nod’,” you smile as fakely as possible to show what you mean, “through it so long as you’re okay.” He’d bled in your lap.

Keith looks a little unsteady, unsure what to do with your lack of anger. “You don’t-”

“So is it like galra marriage then?” You were curious as to what exactly the Blades were going to gossip about you and Keith.

He makes a choked sound. “Sort of. They bond. It can be broken but that generally means someone killed the other.”

“Let me guess,” you reply, “Zarkon fucked even that up.”

Keith nods.

“That guy’s the worst.” Your voice is light.

Keith snorts, smiling for a split second. “I won’t anymore. I’ll-”

“Keith,” your voice cracks as you out your hand on his arm to keep him from rubbing off, “if its really causing you all this additional confusion in too of everything…you can…” the words were too intimate to say, too charged with a sensuality that he clearly was figuring out. You were willing to wait. For him.

He was conflicted enough without you dumping your feelings on him.

“You don’t-”

You raise your hand, caressing the side of his face with the back of your hand, ghosting over the purple mark on his cheek, “I don’t mind.” Sure, you had a crush on him, you could admit that much, but more simply, you loved him.

This was a small ask.

Your gaze flickers to the tips of his ears.

You had washed his blood off your hands.

“Besides, shit’s hard enough. My arm falling asleep is a small price to pay if I can help you.”

Keith’s mouth quirks up in a smile.

You laugh, “come here.”

It finally sinks in that you weren’t just talking bs. You meant it, as you hug Keith, wrapping your arms around his middle. He smelled good in spite of the battle he’d been through earlier.

Without really thinking, you breathe in the scent of him.

Keith hugs you back, cuddling you against his chest, resting his chin on your shoulder.

You yawn. “want to sneak back into the castle?”

“Only if you tell Allura you’re the one who wanted to leave,” he deadpans dazedly.

You laugh.

——————

“Come,” Allura motions as you stand from one of the Castle’s weapons systems, “we must meet with the rebel leadership on planet.”

The planet was a farming camp.

The slaves were overworked and underfed and they had still revolted when they learned Voltron was near. Now, they were free.

“Princess,” Coran calls out, “it appears that number four is heading back to the ship.”

A pained expression crosses Allura’s broad features, her full mouth frowning, before she decides to pick her battles for the day. “I am sure Keith has a good reason for his actions.” She sounds like she’s trying to convince herself.

You don’t want to go down there either.

This entire last week had been spent synthesizing medicine and treating thousands of people made harder by the range of species. The garrison better give you that medical degree immediately.

“I’ll go check on him,” you say automatically, “he might need me to prep a pod.”

“Fantastic idea number five,” Coran believes your excuse.

“Let us know if anything happens,” Allura says, giving you a long look, before heading for the exit.

The central Galra soldiers had been taken out, but small bands of fighters were still fighting to their last breath. It’s why Voltron has remained on the planet.

The lions had roamed the landscape answering calls for aid and hunting down the last of Zarkon’s forces here.

You meet Keith in the red lion’s hanger.

He’s popping his helmet off, running a hand through his flattened hair. “I thought you were headed out with Allura?”

You shrug, suddenly feeling awkward. “I was, but I wanted to check on you first.” That was a normal thing to do for your friends. There was no reason to overthink things.

“I’m fine.”

He sets the helmet aside, working on undoing the armor off. There was dirt and dust but thankfully no blood to speak of, his or otherwise.

“Then I’ll see you there,” you ask.

Keith looks over, a kid with his hand caught in the cookie jar, his smile slight when he replies, “I’m not heading there.” Blunt. Concise.

“It is depressing,” you admit. There was so much resource allocation and need planet-wide.

He raises a brow. “Oh. Yeah.”

“Keith?” Now you’re wondering what the real problem was. “What is it?”

“Does it matter. I don’t need to be there. Shiro and Allura can handle it.” He looks away, suddenly very interested in the wall. Unlike the rest of the ship, the red lion’s hanger was dim, in a permanent night cycle.

Pidge’s work.

“I think the people would like all of Voltron present.” Then you make a face, “oh god, I sound just like Allura don’t I?”

Keith laughs, “just a bit. As long as you don’t make us all meditate…”

“It’s so boring. I fall asleep.” You smile softly, “Seriously, go down for a moment. Then you can hide out here.”

“I-I’d rather not.” He shifts uncomfortably. “Four out of five is is fine.”

“I’m sure they’ll understand,” you agree.

“I’m sure they’ll be glad.”

“Keith-” you start, knowing he already felt hyper aware of how his appearance had changed. Before, it hadn’t really ever come up outside of the team. No one would tell and if Keith wasn’t vocal about it…now everyone in the entire universe probably knew.

There were rebel Galra, mostly in prisons and work camps. Feelings varied.

“That’s not true,” you say, not sure if it was true, “you helped free them.” You shift your weight onto your other foot, “there’s a few assholes everywhere.”

He gives you a long look. “The Galra enslaved all these people.”

“Pfft,” you wave off, “you look like one sixteenth Galra. And-”

“They stare.”

“Because you’re a paladin,” you reason. “Pidge is also cranky about the attention.”

Keith sighs.

The paladin armor lies in a discarded pile.

You step forward to him, “anyone would be lucky to have you as a pilot. And Voltron sort of lucked out when the red lion chose you.”

Keith’s eyes widen as he looks at you, pink dusting his cheeks.

In for a penny, in for a pound, you lean forward and kiss his cheek, ghosting over his skin, “face marks and all.” You can’t meet his gaze when you pull away, blushing fiercely.

Why did you do that!

God, you were so dumb-

He cups your cheeks and brushes his lips over yours.

Oh! Oh.

“Is-is this okay-,” Keith starts asking.

You feel giddy, smiling before kissing him. Yeah, it was okay.

#keith kogane #vld keith #keith x reader #voltron #mine #trying this agin to see if it shows up in the tags #as usual: is this any good?#was supposed to b smut but turned into fluff

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