#Pining Keith is my love

[autisticlancemcclain]

Lance gets red around him a lot.

It’s strange.

It’s different from when they first started. (First met? Keith’s not sure. Lance is so insistent that they’ve known each other since they were twelve, but Keith thinks he’d recognise someone like Lance, someone who smiled that brightly and laughed so loud. But he doesn’t, and he doesn’t understand why he doesn’t, so he doesn’t think about it. He pretends in his head that they met saving Shiro and that’s that.) When they first started learning each other (that’s a better way to put it), Lance went red all the time, but Keith knew exactly what that was about, could read the hard set of his jaw and the anger making his dark eyes steely. Sometimes he would grin to himself and make the flush on Lance’s cheeks deepen on purpose; say something incendiary and challenging in the most casual one of voice he could manage, just to watch how furious he got, how indignance straightened his spine and squared his shoulders and made his cheeks glow.

He called Lance Rudolph, once, and he went ballistic. It was the first time he ever won a spar of theirs, and half of that was because Keith was laughing too hard to breathe. To this day no one believes Lance when he insists it happened. (Keith does feel bad about that, a little. Everyone seems to think it was just Lance who egged Keith on in the beginning, just Lance who purposely made things difficult, but Keith is grown enough now to admit that he had as much fun pissing Lance off as anyone else would. Well, grown enough to admit it in his head.)

Keith still makes Lance go red all the time, now. The issue is that he doesn’t know how he does it.

They still compete. Obviously. It’s fun and it’s easy and Keith is a fan of things that are fun and easy. That’s why he’s into demolitions. And pod racing.

But the competition no longer has that flare of genuine rage. Lance himself had admitted it, sniffing pompously after a late night spar and informing Keith that he had, apparently, “sucked all the fun out of hating by being endearing or whatever”. He also mentioned something about Keith’s “stupid fucking big round pouty eyes and depressing backstory”, but Keith doesn’t know what to make of that so he shoves it back into the recesses of his mind like many other things, including the first time someone other than his Pa said they loved him, Shiro’s safety lectures, and any and all calculus lessons he has ever sat through.

(It’s a mess back there.)

Keith, too, can admit that the animosity is gone. He no longer wakes up and hears Lance’s voice and considers drop kicking him into a black hole. Sometimes he even hears Lance’s voice and realises he’s smiling on reflex. Now he and Lance hang out. Voluntarily, and a lot. They spar. They swim. They harass Hunk. They harass Pidge. They harass Shiro. They harass all their friends, really. Sometimes Lance uses manoeuvres he’s learnt in sparring to pin Keith to the ground and force weird products onto his face and hair, dodging Keith’s attempts to bite him, preaching about their cleansing qualities or whatever. Sometimes Keith even does it without hissing and generally being a nuisance.

Sometimes Keith follows Lance quietly to the observation, late at night, and sits with him while he cries. He can’t decide how he feels about those nights. He’s not sure if he’s allowed to think about them outside of when they happen.

In all of this, though, Lance’s ruddy face has stayed pretty common. Keith can excuse it when they’re sparring, because it’s admittedly a lot of cardio, but at the same time Keith doesn’t get that red and he’s way paler than Lance is. He can almost kind of excuse it when they swim, for the same reasons.

He doesn’t get it any other times, though. He doesn’t know why Lance goes red at the most innocuous things, like when Keith tells him his hair smells good or his laugh is pretty or he’s actually really good at that nerdy math game Pidge likes, holy crow, I didn’t know you were that kind of smart. Nerd. He doesn’t understand why Lance goes red when he trips and Keith catches him, ‘cause he’s a big klutz, you’d think he’d be used to it by now (it’s not like Keith is going to let him fall. Well, usually not). He doesn’t get why Lance goes red when Keith compliments him in training, because usually when Lance gets complimented he gets a big head about it and preens for an hour.

It’s just strange.

Mostly, though, it’s not that big of a deal. Maybe Lance is just a blushy kind of person. He’s taken to teasingly calling Lance Red, because it’s better than Rudolph, and also because Lance goes scarlet every time he says it, so it’s kind of like he’s a wizard who can make Lance flush on command. Which is cool. Other than that Keith mostly just pretends it doesn’t happen. They hang out too much for Keith to bother. If he questioned it every time, he would go bananas.

“You have icing smeared on your face,” Keith comments on one such hanging out occasion. (They’re plundering the kitchen for the cupcakes Hunk made and specifically forbade them from touching. But Hunk allegedly broke into Lance’s room last week and stole the last of his toner, whatever the hell that is, so fair’s fair.)

Lance pops the last of the cupcake into his mouth then turns to face him. “Where?”

“Here,” Keith says, tapping the left side of his own chin.

Lance, like a dumbass, makes a swiping motion on the left side of his face, instead of mirroring where Keith touched. He misses the icing entirely.

“Left side,” Keith says, exasperatedly.

Lance scowls at him. “That is the left side.”

“No — the other left.”

“There is no other left! There’s only one left!”

Rolling his eyes, Keith reaches over to wipe the icing off for him. There cannot be any evidence on them, after all. When Hunk has a conniption over his missing cupcakes they must play the plausible deniability card so they can snicker about it later.

He swipes his thumb under Lance’s bottom lip, trying to scrape the icing off with his thumbnail. Lance inhales sharply.

“Sorry,” Keith murmurs, softening his grip. He must have scratched him. The icing didn’t come off, though, so he switches tactics and slides off the counter, shifting so he’s standing in between Lance’s open legs and cradling Lance’s cheek in his palm to tilt his head. He rubs his thumb much softer on the stubborn streak of whipped sugar, and that works a little better. He keeps rubbing until finally Lance’s skin is clear, all the half-dried icing now spread on the pad of Keith’s thumb. He licks it off without thinking.

It’s sweet.

Lance makes a strained whimpering noise. Keith flicks his gaze up to meet his face again and is less surprised than he should be to see a flush glowing across his cheekbones, making his freckles seem much darker than they are. His pupils are dilated so wide they nearly swallow up the brown of his irises, and Keith can’t tell if he’s looking at him or through him.

He sighs heavily. “Dude, do you have a condition?”

It takes Lance a long moment to answer. By the time he finally does, his gaze has moved firmly to his lap, neck bent so that Keith can’t really see his face. His ears are still read.

“I’ve got a fuckin’ heart condition,” he mutters.

Keith furrows his eyebrows. That’s weird. He’s seen Lance’s medical scans before — he’s in the pods a lot. You’d think that kind of thing would be on there.

“It doesn’t show up on your med scans,” Keith points out. “Is it, like, a genetic thing?”

Slowly, Lance picks his head back up, squinting at him for several long moments. Keith begins to squirm.

“You’re actually slow,” Lance says with an almost awed tone of voice. Which is mean. “Like, genuinely, actually slow. I think there are bubbles in your brain.”

“Hey,” Keith protests, pouting. “I help you commit cupcake heists, and this is how you treat me?”

Instead of answering, Lance continues to stare at him. He almost looks bewildered, which does nothing but make Keith more confused.

Eventually he lets out a long, tired sigh. It is not the first time Keith has heard that sigh. That is a sigh he hears when Shiro finds him throwing up his guts after eating a tub of ice cream out of spite. That’s the kind of sigh he hears from Allura when Keith ignores instructions and boulders through the shocks from the invisible maze to get it done faster. That’s the sigh that says I wish I had a trebuchet to strap you to it and release you into the sun. Keith is very familiar with that sigh, although he usually makes it happen on purpose, or at the very least understands how it’s warranted.

Right now he is completely lost.

“I am going to go bother Coran,” Lance says finally, pushing himself off the counter and walking towards the door. “You are not invited. I will talk to you when I want to strangle you less. Goodbye.”

“Bye,” Keith calls out, head tilted in confusion. He watches Lance go until he disappears down the hallways.

“He is so confusing,” he announces to no one, then walks out the kitchen himself.

[heynhay]

so part of my klance renaissance has obviously included haunting ao3 and can i just say this one by @thespacenico was especially lovely. drew a lil somethin.

[ruenii]

I love a Lance who hopelessly pines over Keith and after pining for him for so long he can just nap the feelings away because its basically just background noise already. Like yeah he could rile him up again but then he’d find another thing to love about Keith and he just doesn’t want to deal with it rn.

Then we have Keith who fumbles Lance so bad that every attempt at flirting or bonding comes off as an insult or somehow condescending which makes Lance’s pining wound ache and would make Keith want to chuck himself out into space.

[klanced]

this isn’t even about my evil agenda anymore I actually just need to hear your dissertation on voltron/klance x first love late spring

you do evil things to my dick and balls. i hope you know that.

first love / late spring is a very keith-core song, but i think it also applies to both keith and lance... but more specifically, FL/LS is keith pre-relationship, and then FL/LS is lance once they have already started dating.

i'm obsessed with that one interview of mitski where she explained that she wrote this song while she was experiencing her vulnerable first love... and first love is vulnerable. you simultaneously reap the rewards of being known but at the same time, you've now let someone else know you, and now you have to trust them to take care of you. and it's so vulnerable. it's more naked than being naked. and it's so difficult as well because now you're learning a brand new way you can be hurt.

so keith, pre-relationship... he's pining for lance and he is MISERABLE. he's lost control! he feels like he's being consumed by the enormity of his feelings. he's eight years old and small and never asked for this, he never wanted to know he could feel this way. he just wants lance to fucking go already. keith wants to spit vitriol and blame and shame and drive lance away so that when lance leaves him (and he will leave him, like everyone else has), then at least it will be on keith's own terms for once. and keith doesn't, he refuses, to say how he feels. he'll spitefully choke on his confession until it suffocates him. he doesn't want to know what lance might say.

but he also is afraid of lance's reaction because... if lance gives him even a sliver of ground, if there's even a promise of a chance -- keith will fold instantly. he will jump into this love headfirst. he'll do anything if it will make lance stay with him.

and then lance, mid-established relationship... things with keith are perfect, everything is going great, so why does lance feel so anxious all the time? why does he feel so scared when keith looks at him like he's his whole world? maybe the problem is lance. because what they have is real. because he's pretty sure keith is it for him. and that terrifies lance. because lance, deep down, knows he's going to screw this up. and it's not just his heart on the line; he's also going to hurt keith.

keith smiles at him and lance feels sick to his stomach. he wants to tell keith that they might be happy right now, but eventually, lance is going to ruin this. he wants to warn keith that lance is going to break his heart one day.

lance isn't always so negative about himself. during the day, it's easy to let himself be buoyed and enveloped by his feelings for keith. he loves being in love with keith. because the love is real. it's real, and it's there, and that matters. but at night, all those poisonous insecurities and anxieties rear their ugly head, and lance finds himself standing on a ledge over a drop. lance daydreams about spending the rest of his life with keith; lance has never felt so young and small.

[drchucktingle]

Good evening Dr. Tingle! Would you ever like to see a film adaption of Bury Your Gays? I think it would be so neat (especially with all of the tv and movie references present in the novel). If there ever was a movie, who would you want hypothetically cast?

HELLO BUCKAROO this is always a fun question to consider actors for a book adaption. when writing i sometimes CAST IN MY HEAD and sometimes it is just kind of a made up buckaroo. there are really only two characters in BURY YOUR GAYS that were cast in my head while writing and i will mention those below.

ultimately WHOEVER was to trot in these rolls i would be happy with, so lets just consider this a fun way through imagination. i will say that i would prefer to cast queer actors, but also i know the business of hollywood means sometimes that does not work out to get the movie on screens. if bury your gays was turned into a movie i would really have no say in any of this anyway, but queer actors would be my preference when possible.

despite all of that, when writing MISHA, the actor in my head was NOT a queer actor as far as i know (although for some reason us queer buckaroos have given him a pass to play queer characters which i think is very funny and interesting, i guess we just love him a lot regardless) anyway lets kick it off there

MISHA BYRNE

when writing BURY YOUR GAYS i was picturing none other than BILL HADER. maybe it is because i was watchin a lot of BARRY at the time, not exactly sure why but thats the truth.

that being said i think i would be great to get a queer lead in there. so if that was the case i would say LEE PACE, and of course we have the ultimate fan cast MISHA COLLINS

TARA ITO

this is the other character that was FULLY IN MY HEAD as i wrote it and mentally cast from day one. it also kind of coincides with the trot of a tv show i was watching at the time which was PEN 15. so tara in my mind was always MAYA ERSKINE

ZEKE ROMERO

not exactly a known actor in my head, but when considering options i think that OSCAR ISSAC would be very good

JACK HAYS

there are a few options for this, but i keep thinking of a very clean shaven MURRAY BARTLETT in a suit. another options would be ZACHARY QUINTO especially if we get chris pine as chris oak because thats just some incredible META KIRK AND SPOCK action for the sledgehammer scene.

now onto the dang villains.

CHRIS OAK

okay so obviously we gotta cast CHRIS PINE in this role (i might have an in). however if that does not work out i would like to suggest COLMAN DOMINGO

THE SMOKER / UNCLE KEITH

would be neat to have the monsters also play their inspiration. in the case of THE SMOKER i think STEVE BUSCEMI would be incredible

MRS. WHY / AGENT Y

last buck not least i propose ELIZABETH DEBICKI as MRS. WHY

if you have not read bury your gays yet but now you are DANG INTERESTED then you can get it here. thanks for reading buckaroos feel free to reply with your own castings. I AM NO EXPERT you know my art just as well as i do so i am curious your thoughts. LOVE IS REAL

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

it's the next best thing - part one

part two || part three

Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson || ~22k, complete || phone sex || accidental love confessions || there was only one bed || getting together || mutual pining || porn with plot || smut || wet & messy || friends with benefits || oral sex || rimming

This is my gift for @eyesofshinigami for @steddieexchange! This is part one of three, as it got a little long for a Tumblr One-shot. I hope you like it!

It’s been hours since Robin clocked out, and Steve’s barely hanging on. He misses spending entire shifts sitting behind the counter as Robin threw balled-up receipts at the back of his head, squabbling like children over who gets to pick that night’s movie. But Keith’s all up in a tizzy over their labor numbers, and so he’d split their dynamic duo right down the middle.

They’re like ships passing in the night now, and Steve’s bored.

The stupid bell on Family Video’s stupid front door hasn’t jingled in long enough that Steve’s begun melting into the front counter, head pillowed on his folded arms, legs barely keeping him upright. Mondays have always been the slowest night of the week, and as winter sinks its icy claws into Hawkins, fewer and fewer customers are showing up past six p.m.

Robin’s going to be mad when she opens tomorrow and finds all the tapes he’d been supposed to rewind still stacked by the TV in the back room, but sue him—the shine’s wearing off real quick on this entire job without her at his side.

When the phone rings shrilly in his ear, it’s almost a relief. He’ll take Mrs. Carruthers nagging complaints on the state of kids’ movies these days over another moment of this endless, lonely, monotony. He doesn’t raise his head as he reaches fumbling fingers across the counter to snatch the phone from its cradle, pressing it to his ear.

“Thank you for calling Family Video,” he drones out in the customer service voice he’d learned at Scoops and perfected during Friday night rushes, made worse when the new releases hit the shelves. “How can I help you?”

It’s silent for a moment aside from the staticky sound of an open line. But then there’s laughter drifting down into his ear, alternating between braying and giggly—Steve would recognize that little donkey snort anywhere.

He’s already smiling into the meat of his forearm when another voice, deeper than it usually is, asks, “what are you wearing, big boy?” before dissolving into peals of elated laughter, mixing perfectly with Robin’s own hiccuping giggles.

Steve straightens up. He catches sight of his own face reflected back at him from the dark windows and for the first time that night, he’s glad no one else is here. It’d be hard to explain the force of his grin and the way his cheeks have turned splotchy and pink even in the cold air.

Steve dutifully waits for a break in the laughter to answer Eddie’s question. “White sweater, green vest, blue jeans, white sneakers,” he lists out, the corners of his mouth twitching as he fights against himself to maintain that same droll tone.

The laughter starts up again, spurting like a sprinkler on the fritz. Something crashes over the line, and Steve knows without having to ask that it was Robin as Eddie’s laughter takes on a hysterical edge. Steve’s smiling again, face hurting with the strain of it. He wishes he could be there, sitting between the pair wherever they are, but if he can’t, this is the next best thing.

“That’s so cute, baby,” Eddie replies when he finally gets a handle on things, that same deep tone telling Steve that the bit is still going on. It doesn’t stop warmth from pooling low in his stomach as he bites his lip, the term of endearment ringing through his ears.

“Thanks,” Steve says, wincing when it comes out all breathy. He clears his throat and diverts the topic of conversation. “You stealing my best friend?”

Eddie gasps, sounding almost affronted as he replies, “of course not! We’re leaving a space right in the middle, just for you.”

“You were the tie-breaker for the movie pick, dingus!” Robin calls, voice faint like she’s a little too far away to be properly picked up by the receiver.

“You always side with Robin, Stevie,” Eddie sighs. Steve can picture it—Robin and Eddie on separate sides of the Munson’s couch, passing a joint back and forth, pausing long enough in between each hit like his ghost might want to have a pull of its own. “It’s enough to make a guy think you don’t like him.”

“I like you,” Steve blurts, wincing and closing his eyes when the words register.

The silence rings louder than any response Eddie could have given, deafening Steve in the quiet of the abandoned video store. It’s all too much, made worse by Eddie finally responding with a stilted, “I—oh.”

Steve rubs at his closed eyes, suppressing the groan creeping up his throat. God, why can’t he just stick with the joke? Why does he have to spew his stupid feelings all over everything?

“Well that’s—” Eddie starts when it becomes clear that Steve’s not going to be saying anything to make this moment any less awkward. But suddenly, he just…doesn’t want to hear what Eddie has to say.

“Uh, customer,” Steve interrupts, hoping the lack of ringing bell isn’t obvious over the phone. “Got to go, bye,”

“Oh, oka—”

Steve slams the phone down hard enough that the plastic creaks. Now, alone with his racing thoughts and poor life decisions once more, Steve drops his head down on the sticky counter with a groan.

It’s going to be a long, lonely night.

*** 

As Eddie listens to the dial-tone filter down the line, he smacks his head into his kitchen cupboard, the shitty door rattling loosely on its hinge as he tries to strangle himself against its plywood surface.

“Why did you let me do that?” Eddie whines, even though “let” is a strongly misleading word. Robin, ever the shit-stirrer, had dialed the number herself and shoved the ringing phone into his fumbling hands just before Steve’s tinny voice had come through the phone’s speaker.

Robin hiccups, and it sounds wet enough that Eddie finally puts the phone back on the cradle and turns around, limbs loose and uncoordinated from the pot brownies they’d burnt to a crispy charcoal but eaten anyway. She’s on the floor where she’d collapsed mid giggle-fit and been unable to get back up. But she’s all out of smiles now as tears trail down her freckled cheeks.

“’m sorry,” she cries, rubbing her closed fist against her streaming eyes, hair haloed out against the dirty linoleum of the trailer’s small kitchen. “Just missed him.”

“You saw him this morning,” Eddie snorts, but lays down next to her, resting his head against her stomach. Her clumsy hands paw at his head, fingers catching in every knot as she tries to sooth him.

“But it’s Steve,” she says, like that will explain everything. And really, it does. He is Steve, and he and Robin were surgically disconnected in the womb or something. They’re going to grow old and die together, and Eddie’s only a little bit bitter about not fitting into that same equation. 

“Yeah, Robby, I know,” Eddie sighs, blinking up at the flickering fluorescent lights drilling through his skull. He can’t seem to get up, though, thoughts swirling around themselves, making useless patterns in his brain that are impossible to follow.

They’re quiet aside from Robin’s waning sniffles, her heels kicking rhythmically against the tile like she’s keeping count, fingers tapping against the top of his head like she’s practicing her fingering for one of the songs in marching band. Eddie loves her so much. He should have known to never, ever give her drugs.

“Is it just me or did he sound sort of flustered?” Eddie asks, and Robin’s fingers drop back to his head, clutching at the roots of his hair hard enough to hurt as she dissolves into cute little giggles again, knees pulling up as she curls into the fetal position around his head.

“Uh, customer, got to go, bye!” she calls, rushing it all together in her haste to mock her best friend’s fumbled sign-off.

Eddie laughs right along with her, but there are butterflies fluttering around in his ribcage, rabbiting his heartbeat up to an alarming gallop.

Steve drops from the conversation after that, and it doesn’t come up for the rest of the night. Not when the munchies get the best of them and they order a pizza, or when Robin shoves one of her stupid subtitled French films into the VHS player and they both squint at the screen, too out of their gourds to follow the confusing plot.

Robin might have forgotten the entire thing; Eddie does not.

It lingers in the back of his mind, creeping over him like mold until he finds himself in front of the phone the next night right around the same time, hand hovering over the number pad, fingers damn-near shaking with the desire to punch in the number he’d had to scour the phone book for. The one he’d written down and stuck onto the fridge with a magnet, hoping Wayne wouldn’t ask any questions when he inevitably catches sight of it.

And that’s the thing. He couldn’t even claim it was spur of the moment this time. It was premeditated. And it feels that way as he finally dials and listens to the line ring.

“Thank you for calling Family Video. How can I help you?”

“What are you wearing?” Eddie asks. It comes out of his mouth on a raspy whisper, rumbling deep in the recesses of his throat.

Steve laughs, sounding downright delighted as he asks, “Robin put you up to this?”

Eddie can almost see the smirk that must have crept across his face. He twirls the cord round and round his finger, wishing desperately he could see it in person.

“Uh, no,” Eddie says, voice three octaves higher than it had started out, feeling hot all over as he jumps up onto the counter and settles his head back against the cupboard. “Your better half has fled the coop.”

Steve laughs again, and Eddie wants to drown himself in it. Instead, he clacks his heels against the cupboards behind him, trying to keep from blurting out something stupid.

“So, it’s your idea this time?” like he knows Robin well enough to know she’d dialed the number and put the phone in his hands. He’d be jealous if he wasn’t in love with both of them in his own special way.

“All the better to make you laugh, my king,” Eddie replies, cringing at the stupid little voice that comes out of his mouth. “I would be failing in my court jester duties if I didn’t perform at my king’s behest.”

“You think you’re that funny, do you?” Steve asks around a laugh.

“Well, at my count, you’re at three laughs already, your highness.” Eddie counts them out on the fingers still tangled in the phone cord, like Steve will somehow be able to see them from miles away. God help him if he can, with the way Eddie’s twiddling his fingers and blushing like a schoolgirl on her first date.

Steve scoffs, but there’s another laugh hidden beneath it, so happy and warm that it lodges itself in the recesses of Eddie’s chest. He presses the phone hard enough against his ear that the cheap plastic creaks, unwilling to miss even the smallest of sounds Steve might make.

“Fine, fine, you’re funny, Munson,” Steve says, voice lilting up like he’s still fucking smiling. “You can call your king anytime.”

“How gracious, your majesty.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve says, snorting at Eddie’s antics. “Now what’ve you been up to all day? Preparing your material to call little old me?”

“You’re just jealous that some of us aren’t forced to be capitalist monkeys,” Eddie replies.

“Monkeys?” Steve asks, laughing again—Eddie’s count is now up to five.

“Yeah, you know, with the whole monkey suit you’re forced to wear.”

“It’s a vest,” Steve huffs before putting on a voice that’s soft-spoken and sultry. “With how often you ask what I’m wearing, it seems like you would’ve remembered by now.”

Eddie sputters as Steve’s sibilant whisper slips down his spine, making him shiver. Steve isn’t supposed to turn the flirting back onto him. There are rules, goddammit.

The conversation segues into Steve complaining about the absentee parents barely paying attention as their kids smear candy all over the VHS’s on display, really only proving Eddie’s corporate monkey crack right. Eddie doesn’t mind—anything to get Steve not to use that voice again.

It goes on for minutes, Eddie hanging on every word, every laugh, every sound, like this is something they do. Even though this is the first time they’ve ever talked on the phone without Robin back-seat talking behind one of them. Even though they don’t even really hang out alone, always sequestered in groups.

All the better to keep Eddie’s stupid, ridiculous, hopeless crush from exploding out of him and killing everyone in the line of fire.

But, as Steve hangs up with a rushed, “customer, sorry!” this time with the accompanying sound of the bell on Family Video’s front door, leaving Eddie to listen to the staticky dial tone instead, he can’t regret calling. Not with Steve’s laughter still ringing in his ears.

He stands there clutching the dead line to his ear for an embarrassingly long time.

*** 

Steve means to tell Robin about it the next time they share a shift. Really, he does. But then she spends the first thirty minutes of their two-hour overlap talking about her most recent one-on-one hangout with Vickie, and Steve spends the rest of their time before the after-work rush hits, hyping her up to finally make a move. By the time Robin’s punching out, Eddie’s name hasn’t come up even once.

He can feel his window of opportunity dwindling as Robin grabs her bike from where she’d stashed it in Keith’s office that morning, wheeling her dirty tires toward the front door.

“Hey, Robin?” Steve asks, just as her hand settles on the door, ready to swing it open.

“Yeah?” she says, focused on rifling through her pockets, making sure she has her house key after one too many times making it all the way home to find her house locked up tight, and her keys dropped somewhere between Family Video’s shelves.

Steve watches her, and feels the moment pass him by. “Want a ride to work tomorrow?” he asks instead of saying, I really like Eddie, or, do you know why he keeps calling, or, do you think I have a chance? It feels more like a bathroom conversation anyway, and if Keith catches them both in there again while the front of the store remains unmanned, he’s going to fire them.

“Always,” she says, waving half-assedly toward him without turning back around.

And just like that, she’s gone, none the wiser to Steve’s inner turmoil, spiralling into full-blown anxiety the closer it gets to what he’s beginning to think of as Eddie’s usual call time. It’s just—they don’t do this. They don’t call, they don’t hang out without Robin or the kids, and they sure as hell don’t ask each other what the other is wearing in that deep, wanting tone of voice.

At least, that’s what Steve had thought two days ago. Now, he’s not so sure.

When the phone rings at exactly eight p.m. that night, Steve knows who it must be on the other side of the line.

“Eddie?” he asks, forgoing his usual customer service spiel. He’s rewarded with a bright, happy laugh that hits him straight in the sternum.

“Is that how you greet all your paying customers?” Eddie asks, smile audible in his voice.

“As if you ever pay.”

“I have!” Eddie cries indignantly. “Wait, no you threw me off! What’re you wearing?”

“This again?” Steve asks, groaning as if the question doesn’t send his guts squirming every single time Eddie’s voice drops into that suggestive register. He shouldn’t answer, should nip this whole thing in the bud before it spirals entirely out of his control.

But Eddie doesn’t break the silence—Steve can’t even hear him breathing, and Steve’s never been that strong-willed. “Striped polo, jeans, sneakers, work vest. There, you happy?”

“I don’t know, Stevie,” Eddie replies, and Steve can practically see the teasing smirk on his face as he asks, “what color are these stripes?”

“Grey and blue,” Steve says after looking down to double check. It’s his only long-sleeved polo and the store’s a bit too cold for anything else.

Eddie whistles, shrill and sharp through the phone like he’s catcalling Steve from across the street. “Jesus,” Steve cries, yanking the phone away from his ear until he can’t hear it anymore. When he presses the phone back to his ear, Eddie’s cackling. “Prick.”

“Sorry, hot stuff, just couldn’t help myself.”

“You could try,” Steve replies dryly.

“You’re not supposed to change for a relationship, Stevie.”

Steve’s breath stutters in his lungs. It’s a joke. He knows it’s a joke, but that doesn’t stop his fingertips from tingling like he’d set them on fire. The other side of the call’s gone dead silent, the words settling between them with more weight than Eddie could have meant.

So, Steve mutters, “this is more like a hostage situation,” and wonders if he’s just imagining the relief he can hear in Eddie’s answering laughter.

Steve’s heart’s always been a little too easy to snatch—Nancy and Robin perfect attestations of that. But it’d worked out okay with Robin, shifting seamlessly into platonic soulmateism as soon as the name Tammy Thompson had come out of her mouth.

Maybe he can do that with Eddie, too. If only he’d stop calling; if only Steve would stop answering. He’s off shift tomorrow, so if Eddie calls anyone, it’ll be Robin.

As their conversation ends, Steve tells himself he’s fine with that.

*** 

When Eddie calls Family Video like usual, it’s Robin that answers the phone.

“You’re not Steve,” he says, without thinking, cringing when that makes her snort. “Not that you’re not a delight and a treasure to us all, Buckley!”

“Mmmhmm,” she cuts in, sounding even more droll than when she’d droned out her canned customer greeting.

“It’s just that Steve’s always the one that answers, so I was starting to think he was super glued to the front counter, you know?”

Silence rings down the line long enough for Eddie to let his dangling heels smack noisily into the cupboard three times, but then Robin says, “he’s at home,” and continues before he can respond, “you do this a lot then, huh?” she asks around whatever pilfered candy she’s snacking on.

Eddie’s entire body freezes as he runs what he’d just said through his head and comes to the startling realization that Steve hasn’t told her.

“Uh, no?” Eddie asks, hating the way his voice cracks with the lie. “I mean, sometimes I want to call before making the long trek up there. Check if you’ve got anything good on the shelves, you know?”

“Mmmhmm,” she says again, sounding even more doubtful now. They both know it’s a measly six minute drive, but she doesn’t call him on it. “Well, what are you looking for tonight?”

He almost blurts out Steve’s name before remembering his stupid lie. “Uhhhh—um—what about The Fly?” he asks, wincing as Robin scoffs.

“That’s not released yet, dingbat,” she replies, like Eddie doesn’t already know that. It’s just the first movie he’d thought of, having seen its name lighting up The Hawks marquee just this morning.

“Well, call me when it is, okay bye!”

He hangs up the phone on Robin’s indignant sputtering. Because he’s the bane of his own existence, he immediately flips through the white pages and dutifully writes the number he finds listed beside Steve’s yuppy parents' names on the note beneath the long-since memorized number for Family Video.

He doesn’t hesitate to dial.

“Harrington residence,” Steve greets because he’s a bit of a yuppy himself. Eddie hates that he finds it charming.

“You always answer the phone like that, big boy?”

“If I’d known it was you, I might not have picked up at all,” Steve replies, but he sounds like he’s teasing, so Eddie just clutches the phone tighter, smiling around his empty trailer, glad that Wayne’s at work. “Now, did you actually want something?”

“Just wanted to know what you’re wearing.”

Eddie shoves his fist into his mouth and bites down to contain the whine at having said such a god awful, stupid fucking thing for the fourth god awful fucking time.

“Sweats, an old gym shirt, and some socks,” Steve replies, like that’s not enough to rewire Eddie’s whole fucking brain.

Eddie’s never seen him anything other than entirely put together—jeans stain-free, shirt pressed, not a hair out of place. He’s a man after Eddie’s own heart, curating an aesthetic with all the careful consideration that he’d use picking songs for a mixtape. But, unlike Eddie, Steve looks so put together that the thought of him messy has Eddie’s heartbeat ratcheting up.

Are his sweatpants stained? Is the gym shirt stretched out? Is his hair all fucked up? God, Eddie would kill to know, but he can’t think of a normal way to ask, so all he says is, “oh, yeah?” wincing when it comes out embarrassingly squeaky. He clears his throat and continues, “no work today?”

“Nah, it’s my day off,” Steve says, and then there’s the sound of furniture settling, a sigh, the rustle of fabric. Did Steve just lay down? Does he have a phone in his goddamn bedroom? Is he splayed out on his bed, cozy and warm. Eddie’s never seen Steve’s bedroom and god, suddenly he wants to so badly it hurts.

He wants to lay down beside him, wrap him up in his arms, see how fucked up his hair gets by the early hours of the morning. He just—wants.

“Eddie?” Steve asks, sounding frustrated, like he’d tried to get his attention a few different times. “You there?”

“Sorry, sweetheart,” Eddie says before closing his eyes and bashing his head into the cupboard. Sweetheart? Lusting after Steve was one thing, but fucking sweetheart? This is rapidly becoming dangerous. “Wayne just got home, so I’ll call you later, okay?”

“Oh, oka—”

Eddie hangs up the phone. He stares at the empty trailer, heartbeat rabbiting away in his chest like he’s back in gym class trying to run the mile.

He should stop this, throw Steve’s number away and go cold turkey—hide his heart deep within the recesses of his ribcage and keep it safe.

Eddie’s never been that smart, and he knows, no matter what his stupid brain thinks, he’ll be picking up the phone again tomorrow night. And besides, he’s already got both numbers memorized.

*** 

It’s still Steve’s day off, but he drives Robin to work, just like he always does. She stuffs her bike in the trunk in case he’s not around to pick her up after her shift’s done, and then she climbs into his passenger seat, still looking half asleep as she pulls down his visor and uses the small mirror to messily apply her eye liner. Steve drives slow, careful of potholes and speed bumps, a part of him always terrified she’ll stab her own eye out.

She doesn’t talk to him until she’s finished both eyes and stashed her pencil securely into her bag.

“So, Eddie called yesterday,” she says, and when he looks at her sidelong, hands clenched on the steering wheel, she’s looking back, smirking as she watches her comment land. He jerks his gaze back to the road.

“Oh, yeah?” he asks, relieved when his voice comes out even.

Robin knows him though, so she just snorts, and when he looks back toward her, her arms are crossed and she’s got one eyebrow raised bitchily in a way he knows she learned from him. And now here she is, using it as a weapon against him.

Steve clears his throat, glancing away again as he pulls into the vacant Family Video parking lot. “He… calls sometimes.”

“I’ll bet he does,” Robin replies with a snort.

“Robin,” Steve whines, all sense of decorum lost as he drops his forehead down on the wheel hard enough that his horn honks, sharp and loud in the quiet morning. “It’s not like that.”

She reaches over to pat his back, all dripping condescension as she asks, “for him or for you?” before hopping out of the car and going to unlock the front door, switching the Open sign on.

Steve loiters in the parking lot for an embarrassedly long time, her words running through his head. He hits play on his tape deck to drown it out, peeling out of the parking lot like a demo-dog is on his heels.

Metallica’s Orion drills through his head all the way home.

Steve fritters away his day, wandering around his big, empty house, scrubbing floors, dusting shelves he hasn’t even glanced at in years, reorganizing the pantry, lest his anxious energy shake his organs right out from beneath his skin.

He loses himself in the monotony of scrubbing, wiping, and pilfering through cupboards until he comes out of it, covered in dust and smelling of chemicals with the little hand of the clock in the kitchen pointing damningly close to the eight.

Steve takes a shower, scrambling with shampoo and conditioner, rubbing his bar of soap roughly down his body, trying to get the smell of bleach off his skin.

When he hears the phone ring, Steve rushes out of the shower, dripping water all over the tile as he slips his way into his bedroom to snatch the phone off his desk before it rings out.

“Harrington residence,” he replies breathlessly. He tries to tell himself it’s because of his mad dash to grab the line but as he holds his breath, waiting for that familiar voice to filter through the speaker, he knows it’s a lie.

“What are you wearing?” Eddie asks.

Because he hasn’t lied yet, Steve bites his lip before hesitantly replying, “uh, I just got out of the shower, so…”

Eddie gasps, breath stuttering dramatically, and when he asks, “so, a towel?” his words come out high pitched, almost squeaky, like he’s doing one of his little voices for his nerd game. But, an idea is growing in the back of his head, infecting his every thought with a nagging sort of hope he thought he’d sworn off years ago.

Maybe, just maybe, this whole thing isn’t just a bit at all, no matter how it had started. Maybe this is Eddie’s ridiculous way of starting something. If it is, Steve can’t bear to pass it up, even if all Eddie wants is the sound of Steve’s voice whispering dirty things in his ears.

There’d been a few girls back at Hawkins High who’d liked to call Steve up, have him murmur sweet nothings into their ears as they giggled, doing things to their own bodies that they were too shy to ask Steve to do himself. 

If that’s all Eddie wants, Steve will give it to him. He’ll give Eddie anything he wants. 

“Steve?” Eddie asks, still like his breath has been punched out of him. Steve wants to hear how breathless he can make him. 

“You actually called mid-shower, so I didn’t have time to dry off,” Steve says, voice low so he can catch any little noise Eddie might make. “I didn’t even grab a towel.”

Steve’s not disappointed—Eddie whines, high and strained before the sound cuts off abruptly enough that he can almost picture the way Eddie must’ve covered his own mouth, nails digging into his cheek to keep himself from letting anything else slip. Steve grins, blood heating up even as the water begins cooling against his skin.

“I’m dripping,” he continues, voice low and suggestive. Eddie doesn’t reply aside from the haggard edge his breathing gains. Steve hasn’t even done anything yet, and Eddie sounds like he’s on the knife’s edge of coming. “And it’s all your fault.”

“Steve,” Eddie whines.

“What?” Steve asks, “you started this, Eddie.” Eddie moans as Steve says his name. God, he’s easy. 

“It was just a joke,” Eddie argues, but his breathing’s still hitching, and he doesn’t sound like he wants Steve to stop. 

“I thought you’d enjoy me playing along.”

“Yeah, but—”

“Do you want me to stop?” Steve interrupts. He will, if Eddie asks, will stop playing this little game and ask him how his day was, wait for Eddie to ask him in turn. They can go back to the way things were before, no matter how much Steve doesn’t want to. 

“No, don’t stop,” Eddie replies, quickly, desperately 

“Oh, are you just selfish then?”Steve asks, gratified when Eddie hisses like Steve had touched him. “Don’t you want me to enjoy myself, too?” 

“No, no, no,” Eddie replies in that same high-pitched, stuttering voice that he’s rapidly becoming addicted to, so desperate to please Steve. “Not selfish, not—”

“I don’t know, this is starting to seem a little one-sided,” Steve cuts in, Eddie’s protestations sputtering out into nothing. “You haven’t even told me what you’re wearing.”

“Jeans and a t-shirt!” Eddie answers so fast he can’t have even thought about not replying.

“A little overdressed, aren’t you baby?” Steve asks, making note of the way Eddie moans at the slipped term of endearment. “Why don’t you take your shirt off for me?”

“But, I’m in the kitchen,” Eddie replies, whispering like he’s imparting a secret. It snakes down the line and sends a shiver up Steve’s spine. He’s been to Eddie’s trailer before, settling on one side of the couch, Eddie on the other, with Robin playing buffer in the middle.

He can picture the Munson’s small kitchen, barely cordoned off from the rest of the trailer, the separating wall just enough to block the fridge and sink from view.

“Is Wayne there?” Steve asks.

“He’s at work, but—”

“Then what’s the problem?” Steve asks. “Afraid he’ll come home and figure out what you’re doing?”

“I’m not doing anything,” Eddie whines, but Steve hears the sound of him rearranging the phone followed by the rustling of fabric. “There, happy?”

Steve pictures it: Eddie, standing shirtless in the kitchen, phone clutched to his ear as he pants down the line. Is his face flushed with embarrassment? With arousal? How far would the pink go down? He wants to follow it with his tongue, trailing over tattoos and into his dark happy trail.

“Good boy,” Steve praises, and Eddie moans, dark and guttural.

Steve strains his ears, swears he can hear the rustling of clothes, the metallic clinking of what must be Eddie’s stupid handcuff belt that he’s dying to get his hands on. There’s a hitch of breath a moment after before it evens out. After having heard him be so loud, Steve’s got his own suspicions about what activity he’s trying to cover up.

“I thought you weren’t doing anything?” Steve asks teasingly as he finally settles his shower-damp body into his clean sheets.

“I’m—I’m not,” Eddie replies, voice still higher than he’s ever heard it.

Steve grins, settling more comfortably into his pillows, phone cord stretched just a bit in order to reach. “So that wasn’t the sound of you sliding your big, strong hands into your pants?”

There’s a clatter on the other side of the line, like Eddie’d dropped the phone before hastily picking it back up to reply. “I—Steve, I wouldn’t—”

“You’re easy,” Steve says, cutting off Eddie’s lie before he can commit to it. “Just the thought of me naked and you had to touch yourself, didn’t you?”

“Steve—”

“Or have you been doing this every time?” Steve asks, just to hear Eddie’s protests. He knows he hasn’t, would have heard the hitching breaths and stifled moans. “Calling me up at my job just to fuck your hand and listen to my voice, baby?”

“I didn’t,” Eddie protests again, but his breathing’s gone ragged.

“Was Wayne sitting in his recliner so you had to be quiet, listening for any movements from the living room while you shoved your hand in your pants, too desperate to wait?”

“No.” Eddie asserts, but he’s panting now, like just the thought of getting caught in a compromising position is getting him there. “I wouldn’t, not—not with Wayne home.”

“But he’s not here this time is he?” Steve asks. “And you’re desperate for it, aren’t you?”

“Steve.”

“I bet you look real pretty like that.” Steve’s own arousal is making itself known, dick hardening as he listens to all the delicious sounds Eddie makes. “Hand moving in your jeans, all hot and bothered as you take what you need.”

Eddie’s not talking anymore, just gasping wetly down the line as Steve speaks. He doesn’t mind, he can conjure up enough visuals to work with as he grasps his own shaft and gives it a tug.

“Sound pretty too, don’t you?” Steve asks, getting an affirmative grunt that has his own hand moving quicker. “Moaning for me like you just can’t help yourself.”

He’s not even thinking about what he’s saying anymore, spewing garbage out of his mouth as he strips his dick, now lubricated enough by precome and lingering shower water to ease his way.

“I might have to stuff something else in there just to shut you up,” he grunts.

That’s apparently all it takes because Eddie’s whining turns high and reedy, muffled like he’d stuffed his own fingers down his throat on Steve’s command.

“That’s it, baby,” Steve says, talking him through what must be one hell of an orgasm with the way he’s panting. “Bet you look so pretty when you’re coming, making a mess in your stupid tight jeans.”

Eddie moans again like even when he’s spent, the sound of Steve’s voice is almost enough to get him there again. Then he’s back to panting. Steve listens to his wet, staggered breathing, closes his eyes, and pictures what Eddie must look like, collapsed on the floor of his kitchen, hand stuffed in his now-stained jeans, bangs matted to his forehead.

Steve wants to smell him, wants to lick him, wants to brush his bangs back and kiss his sweaty forehead. And that’s all it takes to send Steve over the edge. He bites his lip, suppressing any noises from spilling out of his mouth as he shakes through the aftershocks.

Embarrassment begins curdling in his gut as soon as he comes back to himself. Not at what he’d said, or the noises he might’ve let slip, no. Eddie’d liked it—he had. But, that’s not what had been Steve’s undoing. No, it was the tender, domestic thought of kissing his forehead. Horrifying.

But then Eddie starts laughing, manic and gleeful the way only the best of orgasms leave you, and Steve elects to leave that particular panic for after he’s off the phone.

“Same time tomorrow?” Steve asks, like he hadn’t just listened to one of his closest friends jack off to his voice.

“Uh, yeah?” Eddie says, sounding downright shy now that he’s coming down. Steve can’t handle it. “Yes? Yes.”

“Talk to you then,” Steve replies, hating how soft his voice comes out. “Night, Munson.”

“Night, Stevie.” Eddie whispers.

Once the phone call ends, Steve gets up to shower off more than a little dust this time.

part two

[catsushinyakajima]

KLANCE FIC RECS FOR THE NEW YEARS RECAP PART ONE

2024 has come to an end! Here are all of my fav fav Voltron fics and authors that I've interacted with throughout the year. I'm trying to make this list as diverse as possible so everyone can find some tropes they like but I PROMISE all these fics are worth a read. Listed in no particular order, we have:

fear no more the heat o' the sun by taromi | 28k | Canon-Divergent

This fic is an ASTOUNDING depiction of Keith's perspective on life and how Lance changes things up. Every scene between them added not only to their dynamic, but also to our vision of Keith. We see how he is and how things unfold so beautifully. The prose is beautiful and the scenes carry both fluff/emotion so well.

Silver Bells by heavily_caffeinated/@heavilycaffeinatedsblog | 86.3k | Christmas AU

I'm not one for much holiday cheer/hallmark-esque tropes, but caf's writing still managed to draw me in so much. I applaud Caf sincerely for their incredible diligence to upload a chapter everyday (totaling to 86k words in 25 days!!), and their enthusiasm to include everyone in it's creation. This fic is a pure show of passion, in both it's story and the creation of the story. I encourage you all to check out their other fics too.

late night talking (can’t get you off my mind) by ShatterinSeconds/@shatterinseconds | 5.8k | Werewolf!Keith

This fic is SO GOOD for touch starved Keith. It's short and sweet and you get both perspectives of their pining and feelings together. It's a really cute one shot, and I had trouble picking between this fic and other fics by the author so check those out too! Also @shatterinseconds is the goat for not only commenting on all my fics, but somehow always being in the comment section of every fic I read.

Hearts Don'/t Break Around Here by klancekorner | 135.5k | Roommates/Childhood Best Friends

This fic is a classic in the KL fandom but I still don't hear it talked about enough!! I don't usually like childhood best friends trope that much but this fic made me LOVE it!!! It also portrays Lance's anxiety and Keith's avoidance so so well and shows them growing up beautifully.

Cores of Diamond by speaks/@speakswords | 25.6k | Friends with Benefits

One time I lost this fic in my bookmarks and spent a whole day trying to find it. It's such a good depiction of the way KL don't always see eye to eye due to a lack of proper communication and bridging that gap between them. Has NSFW scenes!

Where the water meets the sky by speaks/@speakswords | 106.3k | Mer!Keith

I NEEDED to rec another speaks fic, this one is unfinished but it ends on a conclusive note. There's themes of growing up, living with changes, reunions, and also lots and lots of feelings.

got got got it bad by kairiolette | 10.3k | Post-War | Pining Keith

This one is also pretty popular. It's so so funny. And so real. Keith goes through the five stages of grief as he realizes he loves Lance and like. Of course he would do that. Really sweet.

so kiss me (kiss me kiss me kiss me) and tuesday's sweetheart (sunday's lover) by hearttpoem | 10k | roommates AU | getting together

This author writes the BEST modern/roommates AU. I love the way KL lives together in their fics and I love the way you can see different love languages in the fics. I was going back and forth between which fic to rec and I chose both these fics cuz I read them all the time!!

Where the apple falls by europa_report/@jupiters-junipers | 130k+ | post-war | comatose

No fic rec list is complete without this fic. This fic is genuinely one of my favorite KL fics, its not finished but I believe the author will finish it. The prose is beautiful and it is an entire emotional rollercoaster. You guys should definitely check this fic out

I've Said Too Much (You Promise I Can't Ever Say Enough) by negativefouriq | 1.8k | Autistic!Lance | Est Relationship

This fic is short, sweet, and such a good depiction of having so many thoughts and wanting to share them all and the anxieties of it. Keith's perspective and his reactions to Lance are very healing to read.

baby, i'll rock your world by AsterikaMay/ @catsushinyakajima | 9.5k | Christmas AU | Gift giving

I am putting one of my fics here lol because I did enjoy writing this one a lot! I keep writing fics about gift giving and pining...this must say something about me ahahah

Part two here

[simp-ly-writes]

The Comments Section (pt.8)

─────── · · A Social Media AU Fic

Pairing: Spencer Agnew x gn!Reader

─ · · SUMMARY: after taking some time away from the spotlight, you return to surprise friends and fans alike with your more recent updates...

─ · · TAGS: gender-neutral pronouns, slowburn, fluff, light angst, cheesiness, friends that act like lovers, friends to lovers, mutual pining, attempt at humour, social media au.

─ · · MASTERLIST | TAGLIST REQUEST | PART SIX | PART SEVEN | PART NINE

─ · · A/N: can't believe its been over a month since the last update, sorry about that y'all 😬 but hope you enjoy this part!

─────── · ·

🔔 (name)s_username just posted for the first time in awhile.

─────── · ·

Liked by co_mill, spennser, sydney_sweeney, and others

(name)s_username Hey... so it's been awhile. I've taken time away from the internet and from the cameras to focus on myself and on my relationships and in that time I realized how far I was pushing myself and other's away from me.

I will be taking a step away from my on-screen role(s) at Smosh since it is not fair to you, the fans or to anyone working at Smosh to work around my schedule. I will try and make guest appearances if I can and I'm sorry if I ever got your hopes up for things to go back to where they started but I hope that at least some of you will come out to support my new projects and I understand fully if you cannot.

Thank you to my team, my friends at Smosh, Sydney and Glen, and to Spencer for always being there for me. I know that I have not been myself these past few months but I think I'm finally finding what I need so stay tuned for a more happy update later lol.

Love you all!

View all 7,342 comments

username01 Always supported you and always will, (name)! Hope you find what you're looking for 💕

co_mill gonna miss having you, bestie! But I can already see how much happier you are and that makes me happy! 😊

↳ (name)s_username you're so sweet. I'll miss you too, bestie! 🥹🫶

username44 eh, still does not make up for everything. I felt like you used Spencer and Smosh to make your "career."

username70 Mixed feeling about this but wishing you the best!

anthonypadilla your dads are here to give you a virtual hug goodbye, so here it is!

↳ ian_hecox yeah, best hug you ever had here: ↳ (name)s_username I can feel it! 🤣

username22 I don't know about you, but I'm feeling dust in my eyes! I'm sad to see (name) go but if they can be like an Olivia or Keith- I can live with that ❤️

angelagiovanagiarratana wait so you're LEAVING? WTF GUYS why does nobody ever tell me anything?!? Like good for you bestie, you get that mental health back on track but seriously? I had to come here from twitter to learn this 😭

↳ (name)s_username Girl! I left you a voice memo yesterday 👀 ↳ angelagiovanagiarratana oh shit, I thought that was spam 😬 ↳ username30 OMG LMAO!!! 🤣

username88 I was so worried about you! Happy to know you're back on the up and up again 💕

shayne_topp you're gonna kill it out there but you'll always have a seat at smosh cast to tell me and Amanda all about it!

↳ (name)s_username give me a month or two and I will be there lol ↳ shayne_topp counting on it!

filmingamanda happy post you say? 😉

tomeybones who's gonna cry with my in the bathroom now??

spennser 🫶

↳ (name)s_username 🫶

─────── · ·

🔔 SmoshGames just uploaded! Turn off notifications here.

─────── · ·

Thank you (Name)!

Smosh Games ✓ [Subscribed] 👍 4k | 👎 7.75M subscribers 1.1M views 2 days ago #2 on trending a complication of (name) moments from over the years... click to expand

5,992 Comments

⚲ Pinned by Creator Smosh Games ✓ From a decade of on and off-camera shenanigans, everyone here at Smosh wishes (name) the very best! (even though we are jealous others get to work with them too). Be sure to comment your favourite memory/moment of (name)!

username01 this feels like a bad break-up since you're still in love with them lol 😭

↳ username61 you know that this is going to happen with everyone one day but you never expect today. fuck i'm going to miss them. * [this comment has been censored for interfering with Youtube's Community Guidelines; for more information press HERE]

username30 everyone is out here acting like they died. PEOPLE (NAME) IS GOING TO COME BACK FOR SPECIALS DONT WORRY! god.

username24 I still think back to that hide and seek video, I hope that future update comfirms (yourshipname) for good!

username77 "don't cry because it's over, smile because it happened"

username11 (name) falling over and accidentally discovering what is cake by face plant will never not be the best moment on this channel 🤣

username40 where are all the "#imdonewith(name)" people now?? Sure to have changed their tune quickly...

(yourshipname)updates ✓ any moment with (name) and Spencer is a certified classic for Smosh. I mean they are the Shayne and Courtney of nerds.

username09 I was so scared that (name) was going to fall into that Hollywood lifestyle... happy yo know that they're still there.

username52 "this isn't goodbye, it's see you later" - and I'm counting on it for (name)'s return!

─────── · ·

🔔 (name)s_username just posted, check it out!

─────── · ·

Liked by spennser, ian_hecox, tomeybones and others

(name)s_username good company, 9/10, could have talked more about movies but was too caught up on video games. idk if I would recommend for anyone else 😬

View all 3,229 comments

username01 (name) be having the most aesthetic blog possible in this new era and I'm here for it 💕

spennser decided to take out the image of my soul-crushing win?

↳ (name)s_username no! I left it in right beside you almost face planting if you scroll to the left 😄 ↳ spennser ☹️ ↳ (name)s_username 😂 ↳ username40 I seriously cannot tell if this is a soft launch or them just being dumbasses again...

username80 just two friends spending casual friend time together... right? right? right? 👀

damien_Hass why wasn't I invited??? you know how much I love bowling!

↳ (name)s_username next time 100%!

filmingamanda I think I used to work in a bowling alley... then again maybe it was mini golf place. Anyways cute pictures!!

username30 eh, I'll count this as a win for (yourshipname).

username00 WHY ARE WE ALL SO CALM, THIS IS A SOFT LAUNCH PEOPLE. A. SOFT. LAUNCH. You heard it here first, folks!

username11 waiting on Spencers post now to confirm it but AAAAAHHHHHHHHHH. Has the angst finally stopped for some fluff???

username16 Love how all the regular comments are being stationed at the top for us shippers to be down in the trenches analyzing every image.

username19 " idk if I would recommend for anyone else..." mhmm yup, you take that man!

─────── · ·

🔔 This post is getting a lot of likes! Check it out!

─────── · ·

Liked by (name)s_username, anthonypadilla, filmingamanda and others

spennser do the math- the answer's probably right.

View all 7,002 comments

(name)s_username so lets see here, college meet-up + years working together - a few years and months apart x some texts = ...

↳ spennser I mean I would format it a bit differently but I came to the same conclusion 🤷 ↳ username60 now they are just playing with us, what is this curelty??!?! Spit. it. out. already. please!

username24 so the answer I got was "and then they kissed," am I right?

username00 I've always hated math.

↳ tomeybones fuck! someone already took my caption!

co_mill the math is mathing so hard rn.

shayne_topp so... beopordy (math edition) next?

username01 only real fans will remember that 1st picture 🫶

filimgamanda I've never felt older in a comment's section till now, WTF is a "soft launch"

↳ ian_hecox ummm, its when Nasa tries to send off something or something like that ↳ filimgamanda oh, okay! ↳ username40 its like watching two robots communicate with one another 😭 ↳ username10 not another Harambe situation again!!

username43 Alexa? please order me another three bottles of wine. we're gonna need them...

─────── · ·

─ · · A/N: only two more parts to go!

─ · · SPENCER AGNEW TAGLIST: @lisiliely @missflufffanfics @little-stitious-studios @thejourneyneverendsx @sibsteria @lizzylynch1 @babble2 @delaneyburghardt @thevintagefangirl @uniquely-haunting @maricarorp @sarahskywalker-amidala @laurasdrey

[bluemantics]

Fic recs ask! Do you have anything vanon divergent/post canon in those bookmarks? thank youuu

ANON I AM LITERALLY THE POST-CANON FAN OF ALL TIME. i got u covered! thank you for this ask <3

1. Scars by crazyrandomhappenklance

Pining | T+ | 1.1K

Lance never forgot the bonding moment he had with Keith; how could he? He also carries the memory of it permanently on his back. He’s kept those scars and memories hidden for years, but one day he was bound to slip up. What is he still so scared of?

2. Longing by Isas_Identitty

Fix-it | E | 17K

After a sudden one-night-stand during the One-Year Anniverssary celebration of the end of the war, Lance and Keith start having a kind of friends with benefits arrangement. Keith is happy to not to get more than that, knowing Lance must still be feeling heartbroken after his relationship with Allura, but the more time he spends with him and is accepted by his family, the harder it gets to hold back his own feelings.

3. hey mom, i met a boy by disasteralex

Fix-it | T+ | 9.5K

The war was hard. Its end is even harder. But when Lance breaks, Keith and the others are there to help him heal.

Somewhere along the way, Keith finds his place in the universe, Shiro gets his happy ending, and Lance learns to fall in love again.

4. sick day by starlightment

Married | T+ | 1.8K

Lance catches a cold, and Keith does his absolute best.

5. the simplicity of forever by Silverine

Established relationship | T+ | 3.5K

It's almost Instructor Lance McClain's birthday, and he wants this one to be an epic celebration in his new house, with all his friends, family, and of course, his boyfriend.

But Keith had to pick this birthday to act all mysterious and unpredictable, right?

6. 'Tis the Season for Conspiracies by Reader115

Getting together | T+ | 10K

While on a relief mission, Keith insists on several Christmastime traditions after he’s hit by an alien substance that seems to have made him fall in love with Christmas

7. collide the spaces that divide us by skyestiel

Pining | T+ | 4K

“Team leaders.” Keith repeats the phrase, haltingly, and looks to Lance.

“Well, the leader and his right-hand man.”

A smile softens Keith’s features. “I’ve always liked the sound of that. ‘The leader and his right-hand man.’”

8. Say Yes To The Mess by AstroLatte

Fluff | G | 4.2K

Keith wants to sweep Lance off his feet with his proposal, that is if he doesn't get himself killed first.

ANYWAYS I hope y'all enjoy this list! I tried to rec some that were decently known alongside a bunch that weren't, and avoided all my fics that have, like, 20K or more hits. JFC klancers are crazy. I LOVE post-canon and will definitely end up reccing more fics that include this au in the future <3

[super-cosmic-library]

staring at you staring at me

written for @steddie-week day 3: mutual pining

wc: 1085 I rating: G I tags: alpha steve harrington, omega eddie munson, courting, happy ending I [ao3]

“If you don’t stop staring at him, I’m going to tell Keith you’ve been slacking on the job.”

“You wouldn’t,” Steve says, turning away from watching Eddie examine every single VHS in the horror section of Family Video.

“No, I wouldn’t,” Robin agrees. “Did you know he tried asking me out again?”

“What the fuck? What’s wrong with him?”

“I could give you a list. First off, he needs a better deodorant, his sense of humor is abysmal, he thinks that women can hold their periods in like pee, he doesn’t know what the Loch Ness Monster is, he . . .”

Steve glances back at Eddie as his best friend continues to prattle on about their manager’s flaws. Eddie’s examining the same copy of Friday the 13th he’d looked at the day before. Steve loves the way the omega’s face scrunches up as he reads the synopsis before putting it back on the shelf and moving on to the next film.

Eddie’s attention flickers over to them, catching the alpha’s eyes. Steve gives him a little finger wave, which has Eddie pulling a chuck of hair in front of his face to hide behind.

“Steve, are you even listening to me?”

“Uh, yeah,” he whips around to look back at her, trying to recall the last thing she’d said. “Keith calls mashed avocados guacamole.”

“It’s just avocado, salt, and lime juice, Steve! That’s not guacamole!”

“Yeah, no, totally.” His gaze wanders back to Eddie, who’s now examining Fright Night.

“Just court him already.”

It’s a discussion they’d had repeatedly over the past several months. Steve had come up with excuses to not court the omega every time, ranging from giving him time to heal from his demobat wounds to having to kill Vecna again to Steve just having a bad hair day.

“My hair can’t be a mess if I’m going to start courting someone. It’s my best feature.” Steve had said.

Now, though, after months of excuses, he doesn’t have the energy for anything less than the truth. “What if he doesn’t want me?”

Robin raises an eyebrow at that. “Really? You think that Eddie doesn’t want you?”

“Well, yeah. I’m not exactly the type of alpha a guy like Eddie would go for. I mean, you’ve heard his cafeteria rants. I represent everything Eddie hates in the world.”

“He hates secretly nerdy guys who fight monsters and mother pups that don’t belong to him?”

“Preps,” he gestures to his starched polo and jeans. “He hates preps and rich kids.”

“Well, you’re not exactly rich anymore.”

She’s right. His parents had cut him off back in June when they found out once again that he’d not been accepted into any of the colleges they’d wanted him to apply for. In the year since he had graduated, his parents had expected that he would use the free time to round out his character and develop more “real world” experience to make his college applications more appealing to admissions boards. Unfortunately for them, the colleges they’d demanded he apply to required better greats than the ones he’d eeked by with. So his dad decided to cut him loose. Now, he rents the Henderson’s basement from Claudia, happy to help out around the house and get more time to torment Dustin like a real brother would.

“Come on, Steve. He’s in here practically every day for hours at a time, browsing the same selection of movies and making eyes at you. I mean, have you ever even seen him rent a VHS?”

“That’s because I rent them for him with my employee discount.”

“Does he even watch them?”

“Yeah, we watch them in the trailer for our weekly movie nights. I’ve told you about them, Rob.”

“Uh huh, uh huh,” she nods. “And how, exactly, do you two sit when you ‘watch’ these movies? Opposite ends of the couch? Separate seats entirely? Cause I’m willing to bet that not only do you cuddle during them, but Eddie initiates it.”

She’s right. But friends can cuddle without being romantically interested in each other. He and Robin cuddle sometimes. He and Tommy used to cuddle all the time before they drifted apart. Cuddling doesn’t mean Eddie’s interested in being courted by him.

He repeats the sentiment to her.

“I’m just saying, I think he’d be interested if you court him.”

“She’s right.”

Steve practically jumps out of his skin. He hadn’t heard Eddie approach the circulation counter. Embarrassment floods his cheeks. “Eddie, what–���

“You know I can hear everything you guys say, right? This place isn’t that big, and your voices are loud.”

Steve wants to shrivel up in a hole and die. He’s going to have to change his identity and move to a different state in order to escape his mortification. He’s going to have to–wait. Did he say . . .

“Did you say she was right?”

“Yeah. I feel like I’m going crazy with anticipation for when you start courting me,” Eddie easily admits. “I would have started courting you, but you seem like the kind of guy who’s traditional in that sense.”

Oh, god. He gets to court Eddie. Eddie wants him to court him. This revelation makes him want to sprint home to grab the gifts he’s been accumulating over the past few months and give them all to him at once.

Calm down, tiger. No need to rush it. Eddie deserves a proper courting ritual.

“So, when I ask to court you, you’re going to say yes?” His thoughts are in overdrive. He needs the confirmation before he gets ahead of himself with planning.

“Yes,” Eddie smiles.

Steve takes in a deep breath. “Eddie, sweetie, I’m going to need you to leave.”

The omega’s face falls. “What? Why?”

“Because I’m going to start freaking out in a really embarrassing way, and I don’t want you to see it. And,” he shoots him the signature Harrington smile. “I’ve got to start planning out our first date.”

Eddie pulls his hair in front of his face, swaying on the balls of his feet. “Will I still see you for our movie night tonight?”

“Wouldn’t dream of missing it. You still want Beetlejuice?”

Eddie nods.

“See you at eight, then.” He gives him a wink.

As soon as the shop door closes, Steve turns on Robin, eager to start talking through all his ideas until he comes up with the world’s best and most perfect first date.

The beta slumps against the counter. “Oh, god, what have I done?”

[lovebugism]

for your fall prompts! what about “why are your hands so cold?” with the love of my life, steve harrington?

autumn, my love! ty for requesting! i hope you like it!! — steve makes fun of your cold hands but only as an excuse to hold them (mutual pining, friends to lovers, 2k)

fictober (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)

Family Video always smells like Robin’s morning coffee, crisp autumn air, and warm nostalgia this time of year. It’s quiet and homey and liminal — as orange as early autumn itself. 

The empty store is filled with the sound of your rushed scribbling as you jot down a load of cursive nothingness in your journal. Your hand smears the wet ink across the page. It stains the paper as much as the side of your wrist. 

Your other hand is curled into a fist to prop up your lolling head. Expelling your racing thoughts into the leather-back book is the only thing keeping you awake.

The stale air glows suddenly with a newfound life when a cozier, more familiar scent engulfs you — like pine, musk, and vanilla. You feel Steve’s visceral warmth surrounding you. Before you can blush about the unexpected proximity, he snatches your journal out from under you.

“Hey!” you shout before you mean to, perhaps the loudest he’s ever heard you.

“What’s this?” this beautiful boy muses, honey eyes sparkling. The dull store blooms with its radiance. You can’t believe he’s looking at you with it and with his rosy, lopsided grin.

“Give it back,” you demand, quieter now and smiling wider.

Steve meets your playfully arched brow with a sunny grin. He thumbs through your journal with golden hands from a leftover summer tan. His biceps are all but bursting from his vest and too-tight polo.

“Keith said you’re not allowed to write in your diary on the clock, you know?” he reminds with a feigned seriousness, scrunching his nose when his twinkling eyes flit back to yours.

Keith did actually say that. A few days ago now. He also said he’d dock your pay if he caught you doing it again, the absolute asshole.

“It’s not a diary!” you argue with a beam on your face.

You briefly wonder if you’re smiling a little too wide, and the fleeting thought makes the bright expression flicker. 

You cross your arms over your chest and pretend to be more serious. Something about Steve stirs a deep sensuality in you, though — like a wolf innately drawn to a full moon. The corners of your lips quirk with an emotion you couldn’t conceal if you tried.

“I’ll be the judge of that,” he singsongs with raised brows. 

Strands of honey hair hang over his wrinkled forehead when he turns to the book in his hands. He swipes his fingers through them to push them back again, but they fall into place a second later.

You’re too enamored by the boy in front of you to stop him when he starts flipping through your notebook. You know he knows it isn’t a diary. You also know he wouldn’t be going through it if it were. He’s too nice for that. Too sweet on you, anyway.

He finds a random page and lingers there. His eyes flit over every inch of the ink you’ve scribbled inside — miscellaneous lists, doodles, and song lyrics. He figures it must be the music you’re humming all the time, tunes you can’t get out of your head.

Every time I see you, all the rays of the sun are streaming through the waves of your hair, the words read in clumsy cursive. And every star in the sky is taking aim at your eyes like a spotlight. The beating of my heart is a drum, and it’s lost, and it’s looking for a rhythm like you—

Steve’s heart flutters. He feels like a kid again. His stomach swirls with the thought that you might’ve been thinking about him in between the lyrics. It’s as unlikely as it is childish. He knows this, so he frowns.

“Oh,” he monotones playfully, brows pinching and lips jutting. “That’s boring.”

“Exactly. So give it back—” You reach for the book, but Steve’s too quick. He jerks it out of your reach and leaves your hand grabbing at air.

“Ooh, sorry, sunshine,” Steve lilts. “Looks like you’re not tall enough for this ride.”

Your cheeks speckle with heat. You wonder if he’s flirting or if he’s just being friendly, and you’re too in love to know the difference. Your terribly hidden smile is wide and impossibly giddy, anyway.

“Steve,” you bite, though it comes out much happier than you intended it to. “Give it back.”

He purses his lips to the side and furrows his brows. “Hmm… No.”

Your smile broadens, and your eyes widen at his blatant defiance. You giggle like a child as you walk the short distance towards him. “Give it back,” you laugh and stand on the tips of your toes in front of him. 

He chuckles boyishly in return and lifts it further out of your reach.

You jump slightly off the ground to grab it. You fail the first time and try harder the second. You just narrowly miss it. The tips of your fingers brush his wrist as your torso presses too intently against his ribcage. 

Your chest scrapes his vest and jostles his Hi, I’m Steve name tag. You stumble back in mortification. 

With a red-hot face and a gaping gaze, you try to stammer out an apology. Nothing comes out. Your mouth opens and shuts like a fish as you pull the hem of your sweater down from where it had ridden up.

Steve has his own look of bewilderment. His honey eyes are aglow with something short of amusement. You’re briefly worried he’s about to mock you until he starts to laugh. “Why are your hands so cold?” he wonders with squinted eyes.

Your stutter hasn’t quite left you. “I— I don’t know. My hands are always cold.” 

You curl your fists into the sleeves of your sweater on instinct. If only to hide how they shake for him.

“But that’s like… ice cold,” Steve insists, crooked smile widening. “Like, we live in Antarctica cold.”

Less embarrassed and more playful, you roll your eyes and turn away from him. “Okay…” you mumble under your breath as you sit back down in your chair. Steve can’t stand you being too far away, so he follows you.

“Like, you just got done shoveling snow with your bare hands cold. Like—”

“I get it, Steve. I’m a freak of nature,” you concede, spinning in your swivel chair to face him again. 

He’s much closer than you expect him to be. His long legs are all but inches from your knees as he stands before you. You flush but smirk up at him in attempts to keep cool about how fervently he makes you tremble.

“I’m just teasing,” he assures with a pretty laugh.

You already knew that, though. He’s too kind to be mean. He’s a dumbass sometimes, but he always means well.

“Here, look,” he starts, laying your journal back on the counter with a quiet thud. “Let me make it up to you, yeah?”

Your brows pinch. “What do you mean?”

You find out a second later when he turns back to you and takes your hands in his larger ones. 

His fingers are long and golden as they curl around your knuckles. His palms aren’t soft, but they aren’t rough either — like they’ve been used, but not too ardently. And he’s warm. He’s oh, so warm.

You tense at the sudden action but relax a second later, melting into him like you’ve always been destined to. 

“Oh…”

“Right?” Steve nods with raised brows and quirked lips. “I’m practically a space heater.”

Your heart’s fluttering too aggressively to stutter out an intelligible sentence, so you just nod back at him. “Yeah…”

It makes a little too much sense that the ray of sunlight that always calls you Sunshine feels so golden warm.

Steve gives your hands a squeeze. “See? You’re getting warmer already.”

He doesn’t know it’s because you’re blushing so intensely you feel like your entire body has been set on fire. You’re happy to let him keep on not knowing.

“Thanks, Stevie…” you murmur quietly, gaze trained on your entwined hands.

“Stevie?” he chuckles.

Your eyes dart up to his sparkling ones, and you freeze. You hadn’t meant to call him that. That nickname was usually reserved for your too-elaborate daydreams. “Oh. Shit. Sorry. It just— It just slipped. I’m sorry.”

“No. No, it’s okay,” Steve assures with the shake of his head, giving you another reassuring squeeze. “Seriously. I liked it.”

You exhale a nervous laugh through your nose, ducking your gaze away from his. “You always hate when Robin calls you that…”

“Well, yeah. ‘Cause she’s Robin.”

Your laugh is more genuine this time.

“And it sounds a lot prettier when you say it, anyway.”

He must notice how hard he’s making you blush with how warm your hands have gotten — from frozen solid to fiery hot. But he holds them, anyway. Even when they get all clammy. You want it to mean more than it probably does.

“Yeah?” you press, peering up at him through your lashes.

“Yeah,” he nods like it’s obvious, then gets as sheepish as you a moment later. He tries to act cool through his shyness, tilting his head and shrugging as he smirks. “How about you call me that tonight?”

Your eyes go wide at the unintended insinuation.

His gape matches your own when his own words dawn on him. “I meant at dinner!” he follows quickly. “At Enzo’s. Seven o’clock. You know, if— if you wanna go with me or whatever.”

You do. Most desperately so. In fact, you’re pretty sure you dreamt about it one time. Maybe you’ll tell him that if you’re brave enough — over pasta and breadsticks.

“I don’t have a car,” you confess with a forced laugh. “Or a pretty dress…”

“I can pick you up!” Steve assures immediately, then grows visibly shier. He shifts his weight on his feet but doesn’t try to let go of your hands. It feels too right to hold them. “And, you know, I’m sure you’ll look nice in whatever you decide to wear, sunshine.”

You purse your lips to the side as you nod, lest your beam blinds him and makes your cheeks burst.

“Okay… Enzo’s. Seven o’clock,” you repeat quietly.

“I pick you up,” he says, squeezing your hands.

You squeeze him back. “You pick me up.”

“And we spend an hour eating breadsticks and making fun of all the wine snobs.”

The imagery makes your stomach swirl, a dream so real you can taste it — red wine and garlic and cherry chapstick. 

“Sounds like a plan,” you affirm with a sheepish giggle.

He nods, having no idea he’s grinning like a lovesick idiot down at you. “Cool.”

“Cool,” you repeat.

You watch his tongue dart out to wet his bottom lip. For a fleeting moment, you think he might kiss you. You want him to kiss you. You might melt at his feet if he did, but you need it like you need air.

Ding! 

The door chimes at the front of the store. 

Autumn air rushes in, leaving you bitterly cold all over again. Or maybe that’s just because Steve’s stepping away from you. Both of you know that Keith will have a fit if a customer complains about PDA.

“Hi! Welcome in! Can I help you find anything?” Steve greets as kindly as always, smiling just the same. 

He only says it because he has to say it. He’s secretly hoping for a negative response, just so he can keep on talking to you.

The man in big work boots and a thick canvas jacket squints around the store. He rubs his scruffy face with a hardened hand and turns to Steve. “Yeah, actually,” he says in a gruff, gravely voice. “I was looking for this movie for my wife. It’s her birthday and…”

He rambles on about her favorite movie, a cartoon from her childhood he’s gone two towns over to find. It’s sweet enough to give you butterflies, though it doesn’t match the zoo that erupts in your stomach when Steve turns to look at you again.

He departs from you with a honey gaze. You smile back at him as he goes, watching him intently as he helps the customer with a pretty pink smile.

Your hands are cold again. So much that they ache with you curl them into fists. 

You can’t wait for Steve to hold you again tonight. Over a white-clothed table, warm yellow candlelight, and wine-slicked lips. 

Enzo’s. Seven o’clock.

[autisticlancemcclain]

wip tease number god knows, truly

The phone doesn’t ring for more than two seconds. Which is crazy, because New Altea is an unfathomably huge number of lightyears away and also Lance’s phone signal is perpetually garbage.

“Ahoy,” greets Allura when the line connects, because she is strange.

“Ahoy,” Lance greets back, because he loves her.

They sit in silence. He can hear, vaguely, the clicking sounds of compacts being opened and closed, and the particular humming noise she always makes when she’s putting on eyeliner.

It occurs to Lance, for the first time, that they have known each other so long and so closely that to the outsider, their relationship might be quite strange. The thought makes him smile widely.

“So,” he says.

Allura hums again. Deliberately, this time.

Lance takes another long time to answer, digging the toe of his boots into the ground. He spies a worm wiggling in the newly churned dirt and bends down to pluck it, writhing, out of its hovel. He quickly snaps a picture and sends it to Pidge with the caption, ‘didn’t know you were on Earth today.’ She responds with a grotesquely realistic custom clown emoji.

“There is a possibility. Perhaps. That I do not actually want to be a farmer.”

“No shit,” replies the Queen of New Altea And Also Lots Of Other Things Lance Can’t Remember, blithely.

Lance sniffs haughtily. “This is quite the revelation, you know. I’ve had four panic attacks about it.”

“You have an anxiety disorder. You had a panic attack about malevolent gut bacteria last week.”

“…This is true.”

“Also, whenever I feel you need to be humbled, I ask your mother to send me stuff from your childhood. There’s a video in particular I enjoy of you sobbing about the prospect of being anything but an astronaut. You looked at a cornfield and threw up. You were four, I believe.”

Lance does, actually, vaguely remember that. Well, he remembers Luis writhing on the floor, weeping with laughter, and kicking him in the shins. He also remembers the cornfield, if only because he distinctly remembers lobbing a piece of corn at Luis’ head, also.

He was a very expressive child. Also, Luis is a turd.

“I am entitled to a period of self-reflection,” Lance says primly.

“It has been an Entire Year, knobhead.”

“I needed time to collect my thoughts in peace and on Earth. I died, you know.”

“Oh, did you,” says Allura drily. “I wonder how that went.”

Lance’s smile widens. He lets her have this one. “Fuck farming, okay. I’m bored. I love my family to pieces but I need to be closer to drama. Give me a job.”

“That is a garbage application, Leandro.” He hears the distinct sound of a nail polish bottle being shaken. “I should hire someone more qualified.”

“How about you hire deez nuts.”

“Hm,” she says, and he can hear her grinning. “On the other hand, I need a second in command who is unafraid to challenge me. You know, in case I grow corrupt with power.”

She pretends to deliberate for a moment.

“You’re hired. I’ll send someone to come pick you up tomorrow.”

“Is that someone going to be a hot, tall Altean in a slutty outfit?” Lance asks hopefully.

She can’t help a laugh. Lance grins triumphantly. “You’re fired.”

“Is that a yes?”

“I’ll think about it.”

She hangs up.

[steddieas-shegoes]

read my lips

for @steddielovemonth prompt 'love is staring at his lips when he talks'

rated m | 1,799 words | cw: suggestive language, implied sexual content | tags: mutual pining, getting together, first kiss, platonic stobin

👄👄👄👄👄👄👄👄👄👄👄👄👄👄

"Steve? Earth to Steve." Robin waved her hand in front of his face, successfully pulling him out of the daydream he'd been in for who knows how long. "He walked away nearly two minutes ago. You gotta get your shit together, man."

Steve looked around, trying to find where Eddie went. He'd been talking to them both about a show his band was invited to perform in a few towns over in a couple weeks. Steve was listening to him go on about trying to buy a set of special edition picks at the record shop they'd be performing in when he got distracted by the way Eddie's lips kept smirking around his words.

The scarring along his cheek made his smile more crooked than it was before the bats, and Steve couldn't stop staring.

Not for the reasons strangers on the street would, not even in the way that Dustin or Wayne sometimes looked at him, like they were still upset at the way the world turned against Eddie.

No, this was entirely because every time Steve started to watch Eddie talk, he got distracted thinking about those lips on his. This time it was way less work appropriate.

He turned to Robin and groaned.

"God, this is bad."

"You don't say." Robin set a stack of tapes on the counter next to Steve. "All these still need to be checked in. Then you can go get distracted by thoughts of Eddie's lips on your neck or whatever."

"If only it had been my neck," Steve mumbled as Robin started humming loud enough to drown him out.

"Stevie, you work too hard," Eddie's voice said from right behind him only a minute later. "You should take a break."

"I just had my lunch 30 minutes ago. I can't take another break," Steve refused to make eye contact, refused to get captured by that sinful smile.

Eddie's hand landed on his shoulder. "Aren't you the one in charge right now?"

"You think I'm over Robin?"

"I think you think you're over Robin. And that should be enough. Just sneak away. She won't even notice. Look, she's yelling at a kid in the corner," Eddie poked him to get him to turn around and look. "Poor kid probably didn't think anyone who worked here cared if he snuck into the R section."

Steve finally turned around and let out a snort. "That's the third time that kid's tried to get back there in a week. He's just an idiot."

"Well...she's distracted. There's no other customers. Take a break!" Eddie was grinning at him and Steve was already under his spell.

"Fine, but only a few minutes. She'll be pissed if I leave her to do all the rewinding and shelving," Steve agreed because he had to.

Because Eddie was looking at him like he was up to something and he wanted Steve to be up to something with him. Because he'd do anything that made Eddie's crooked smile bigger, anything to hear him let out that giggle he tried to hide when he was being mischievous.

Eddie tugged on his arm and pulled him out from behind the counter, holding a finger to his lips to shush him when he started to tell him to stop.

He led him to the back office, which was usually locked if Keith wasn't in, but had been left unlocked the last two shifts because Robin was in charge of closing out the registers.

"I know for a fact you shouldn't be in here. I'm barely even allowed in here," Steve whispered.

"No one will know," Eddie said as he sat on the edge of the cluttered desk. "It's not like Family Video is stashing away government secrets."

"I said the same thing about Scoops Ahoy and then got tortured by Russians, so I'd watch what you say."

Eddie's smile dropped for a moment.

Steve had never gone into details and Robin had just shrugged it off when Eddie asked her about it. She said she was grateful she had Steve through it all and that was that.

"Do you suspect Russians might be hiding under Family Video?" Eddie eventually asked. "If so, I think we should head out. I'll get our coats."

Steve shook his head. "Nah. Think the Russians got the hell out of Hawkins after Starcourt."

"Good. Wouldn't wanna have to deal with Russian torture trauma on top of all the bats and being stuck in the Upside Down for days trauma," Eddie snorted. "So, what're you doin' after work today?"

"Uh." Steve admittedly didn't hear most of what Eddie said. He was too busy watching his lips form around words. "Hm?"

Eddie's smile fell. "I asked what you're doing after work. Are you okay? You seem kinda out of it today."

"Yep, I'm fine. Might just be getting a migraine or something." Steve looked down at the floor to try to concentrate. "I'm probably just gonna heat up some leftovers from movie night last night and shower and go to bed."

"You want company?" Eddie asked.

Steve felt his heart stop. "In the shower?"

He looked up at Eddie, that perfect smile growing on his face.

"I meant for dinner or just to hang out, but if you need help in the shower, I could probably arrange that," Eddie was teasing. He was kidding. He had to be. Right?

“I’m…I don’t-“

“Don’t hurt yourself, Stevie,” Eddie laughed. “Offer’s there if you want it.”

Steve was too busy staring at Eddie’s tongue licking his bottom lip, imagining that tongue licking along his bottom lip.

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie whispered.

“Hm?”

“You know, I started wearing chapstick and waited for you to finally give in.” Eddie’s lip quirked up. “But you haven’t done anything except stare. You gonna do something?”

“Do what?” Steve was clueless as to what he was talking about.

“You gonna see if they taste as good as they look?”

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

“Kiss me, Harrington. You gonna do it or not?” Eddie sighed.

“I-“

“It’s alright. Been waiting for weeks now. You wanna?” Eddie didn’t move from the desk. “Not sure they’re gonna be as great as you seem to be picturing every time I talk, but hopefully they aren’t a complete disappointment.”

Steve kinda figured he should go ahead and kiss him before he started to get lost in his own world again.

He stepped up to Eddie, watching as his face shifted from amused to anticipatory. Steve’s hand rested on Eddie’s knee, mostly to help keep his balance.

He was feeling a little lightheaded with the recent development.

“You really want me to kiss you?” Steve asked as he leaned in, resting his forehead against Eddie’s.

“Yeah, I really do.”

Steve watched his lips the entire time, enamored with the way every part of his mouth enunciated every word. Everything felt important when Eddie said it.

He tasted and felt better than he looked, especially when his hands came up to cup the sides of Steve’s neck, fingers scratching at the roots of his long hair.

Steve whined into his mouth, sinking against him as Eddie took control and deepened the kiss.

“You’re both lucky I’m willing to pretend that I’m not seeing what I’m seeing and that I’m willing to close this door and leave you alone for ten minutes. Mostly because I was so tired of Steve losing every remaining brain cell anytime Eddie talked.” Robin’s voice filtered through the small office, causing Steve and Eddie to pull apart quickly, both wiping at their mouths. “Ten minutes. Not a second more. Pants stay on. Got it?”

“Got it,” Eddie agreed.

“And hands stay out of pants!” Robin said as she closed the door.

“Dammit,” Eddie sighed.

“Ten minutes is long enough to make out,” Steve tried to suggest, leaning in to kiss him again.

“Ten minutes is long enough for a lot of things. Tell me where you want my lips.”

It would be rude teasing from anyone else, but from Eddie, it just made Steve feel seen.

“Anywhere. Everywhere. Wherever you want them,” Steve gasped out, still feeling like he might be dreaming.

“So you’d be okay with them…here?” Eddie whispered against his neck, soft presses of his lips against his skin. “Or here?” Steve’s shirt was pulled to the side for Eddie to suck a bruise into the crook of his neck. “Or maybe here?” Eddie’s hand pressed against his half-hard cock on his jeans. “Oh, sweetheart. Had no idea you’d be so ready for me.”

“Yes, you did,” Steve argued.

“You’re right. But it’s still nice to see and feel. Maybe I could taste?” Eddie asked as his hand wandered along his waist line.

“N-now?” Steve stuttered out.

“I have-“ Eddie checked his watch. “About eight minutes. I could get you off.”

“With your mouth?”

“Well, yeah. We can’t make a mess, can we? This is your place of employment, Stevie. And it’s a bitch getting cum out of a carpet like this.”

“You know from experience?”

Eddie dropped to his knees. "I made an educated guess. So. Mouth. Yes or no?"

"Yes," Steve replied, unbuttoning his own pants. "Jesus, yes."

Eddie's mouth was even better than Steve's imagination gave him credit for. They only need three of the minutes they had for Steve to finish, and another two minutes of Steve's hand working Eddie over for him to finish, too.

"You could've said something sooner," Eddie said as he tried to fix his hair. "Or just kissed me one of those times you were trying to stare through my lips."

"I didn't think I was being that obvious before today," Steve said as he tucked his shirt back into his pants and slid his vest back on.

"Sweetheart, you've been obvious since day one. I've just been waiting for you to realize that you needed to make a move," Eddie crowded him against the desk, hands on his hips and a playful smile on his face.

Steve watched his lips the entire time.

"Like that," Eddie continued, raising a finger to trace along Steve's lips. "You watch them when you don't even realize you are."

"Sorry."

"Don't apologize, Stevie. Love it," Eddie kissed the corner of his mouth before stepping back. "You better get back before Robin comes in here and glares at us until we catch on fire or something."

"You comin' over after I get off?"

"You just got off," Eddie joked. "But yes. As long as I can actually help you in the shower."

"Help me? Or distract me?"

"It can be both!" Eddie opened the door and held it for Steve to go through. "I'll take care of you."

Steve smiled to himself as he walked away. "I'm sure you will."

[loz-tearsofahomo]

Lance (losing in a spar): fuck how are you so fast??

Keith: while you were off pining after allura I studied the blade

Lance: psh as if

Lance: studying deez nuts maybe

Keith (in love): I will drive my bayard into your internal organs

[erithel]

I'm surprised you don't include Klance moments in that "fav moments" ask. 😆

Okay, first of all, thanks so much for your blog. Because of you, I start shipping Klance (and I love them). So....

- When did you start shipping Klance (what moment that made you ship them)?

- Can I ask your top favorite fics that you've written (feel free how much that you want to list)? Why they're special to you? Is there a specific inspiration when you wrote them?

- What are your top 5 fav Klance fics ever?

Sorry if you already answered the above questions before (newbie Klance shipper here, just starting last year).

That's fair lol

I'd say I picked my favorite moments based on ones that were truly satisfying, and while I thoroughly enjoyed many klance moments, since they never really paid off, they always left me a bit unsatisfied, so that's why I left them off the list.

To answer your questions:

I think I started shipping klance through stumbling across fanart before even watching the show. There was so much out there when I found it, and it all looked really interesting, and I realized "I want to know more about these two." So I kiiiindof went into the show with a super low-key ship. But if I could pinpoint it, it was probably the "I cradled you in my arms" line that made me go "oh I'm gonna be looking forward to all of their interactions from now on to see where this goes."

I had to check my ao3 to see if I'd even written 5 fics (I have). #1: "Broken Things" This one is special to me for the same reason I was inspired to write it: It was a very tough subject that I was so tired of seeing handled poorly in media. It became even more special when I started receiving comments from people who let me know they had been through similar things and they felt I handled the subject well. #2: "Gone" (a comic, but it still counts) I'm still counting this one even though the experience of posting it turned out to be one that almost made me want to quit before completing the comic. This was also a subject that I had seen handled very poorly, and I wrote it at a time when I had a new understanding of grief, and what it can do to a person. It was very important to me that Lance's side of things was taken seriously, and understood, and unfortunately it really wasn't. But that's kindof why I want to write stories in the first place - to get those thoughts out into the world so they might exist in someone's subconscious, even if they are not fully realized at the time. #3: "Stand Here on the Edge With Me" I started writing this because Chasing Stars was becoming too dark for me to write. I usually stick with angst and love it, but I was writing a really angsty scene where Keith was pining super hard while having their conversation on the lion at sunset and I just thought "wait a minute. What if he's totally fine for once?" and then this fic just kindof materialized. It also has one of my favorite last lines I've written, so that's something to look forward to. ;) #4: "Chasing Stars and Memories" I've always liked stories about traveling to different worlds, and the idea of Klance meeting themselves was always a fun idea to think about. But then I realized that I had never read a fic where only one of them was gender-swapped, and that made it so much more interesting for me, because the angst options just exploded with that one little change. This one's special to me because again, it deals with heavy themes and large emotions and I just adore writing those, and I hope I do them justice and convey the gravity of them. #5: "What If You're Someone I Just Want Around?" I'd always wanted to write a 5-and-1 fic, and I actually wrote this entire one around the third part ("Scared"). It was still pretty early on that I wrote that and I felt like I basically nailed Keith's and Lance's "voices" in that one based on their actual canon selves, so that was a nice little accomplishment at the time!

Basically, my inspiration comes from a lot of emotions, and also because there are specific subjects we see in movies/TV/books that I feel could be handled way better.

I've probably answered the top 5 fics before tbh. I don't know if I have a top 5, but here are 5 I love:

There Nestled Against His Pulse

You're Always Welcome Here

New

In This Moment, You Mean Everything

Terminal Velocity

(Some of these contain NSFW content btw)

There are, of course, many other fics I love, and as always I will recommend anything written by Iybms, Wittyy_Name, or Autumn_Ignited. Sadly, I haven't had the chance to read anything super recently, as I've been trying to read more published books (for pitching reasons), and have been a little disappointed so far unfortunately.

[johaerys-writes]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Spread the self-love ❤️

It was sooo hard to pick just five fics (just FIVE?? you're killing me here 😭) but I went with fics that are completed and that I've often gone back for rereads (yes I do read my own writing all the time haha)

1. you're a walking disaster and yet- (Patrochilles): Do I even need to say it at this point 😭 If someone's been following me for any length of time then they've probably already seen me screaming about this fic in some way, it's my baby, I adore it, I poured so much of my heart into it and I'm still not over it 💔

2. Twin Flames (Patrochilles): the royalty AU that I had been CRAVING for so long and that was such a blast to write. Prince Achilles + squire Patroclus + ungodly amounts of angst, pining, yearning, and of course a very happy ending.

3. Fall Into Your Tide (Patrochilles): another AU that I had been itching to write for very long and that I still think about often. Sailor Patroclus is caught in a terrible storm and is saved by merman Achilles before washing up on deserted island. The friendship and love that develops between them is so sweet. I love those two 💙

4. A Place to Be (Sheith): Veteran Shiro returns to his hometown a different man (white hair, scars, a prosthetic) and meets his highschool sweetheart Keith, whom he still has TONS of feelings for. I really loved writing this fic and I often go back to read it.

5. If The Stars Align (They Were Meant For Us) (Sheith): one of the first sheith fics I wrote and still one of my favourites, the angst + hurt/comfort combo hit aaaaall the right spots for me while I was writing, and the smut is maybe some of the hottest I've written LOL (if I may say so myself)

Thank you so much for this ask!! 💕