#i just wanted to write keith with his words spilling out of him i guess

[autisticlancemcclain]

“There are three things I know,” Keith blurts. Lance stares at him blankly, or maybe angrily, or maybe in a way Keith can’t understand. He doesn’t bother trying, focusing instead on the way freckles dot Lance’s nose, mapping them to avoid looking at his whole face. He continues.

“The first thing is you have to — when you’re stabbed, you have to keep the knife there. You can’t pull it out or you’ll die. The second thing is that I’m bad at saying I love you. The last thing is that we know more about the moon than the ocean.” He swallows and finds his throat bone dry, scratchy. It takes him ten or twelve tries to moisten it again. Lance says nothing as Keith orients himself, refusing to grant him the mercy of ending his sentence. He waits impatiently for the rest of Keith’s sentiment, for the explanation. Or maybe he’s stopped listening and Keith is talking at a wall. He can’t tell. He still can’t bring himself to meet Lance’s eyes. He’s scared they won’t be as warm as they have always been.

“I’ve never been stabbed,” he finally manages. His voice is quieter now, muted and embarrassed, rather than the thoughtless rambling it was before. Hems made a claim and now he has to back it up and there is nothing in his fucking tank to do this. He’s sandwiching the truth between seventeen loaves of bullshit and he knows it and he’s sure Lance knows it but Heaven itself could not stop him, even if It had any desire to reach down and protect him. “I’ve never, uh, known anyone either. Who has been. I read it in a book once. And of course I can say it. It just never sounds like I mean it. And I don’t know anything about the moon or the ocean, really. I just meant humanity as a whole. The collective knowledge of science is more detailed on the satellite rather than the body of water, I mean.”

Say something, he wants to beg Lance, but even he knows that’s unfair. He wants to fold himself up and hide away. He wants to scream at Lance at the top of his lungs, for making him say any of this, for making him think it. Keith never let himself feel this clearly before he met him. Before Lance Keith kept a box of things locked and guarded in the back of his mind and if anyone so much as poked at it he ran. It worked for ten years.

But Lance danced in with a smirk and the scent of crushed daisies and Keith handed him the fucking key.

“And?” Lance asks quietly, throwing him a bone. Taking pity on him. Or mercy. They’re the same thing anyway.

Keith’s hands tremble violently. He clenches them into hard fists and could cry at the relief it brings. “I know more things. I just. Those are the things that never sit right.” The shaking starts again in his fists, then travel up his arms and jerk his shoulders, and soon he’s trembling so badly he’s half convinced he’s seizing, half convinced he’s going to have a stroke and die before he can stutter to an end, finish the fucking sentiment he offered up. The clenching of his teeth does nothing and they clatter so badly they crack to a million pieces and fall to pieces at the floor. His skin flinches right of his body. Every spasm of his muscles oozes blood down to a growing pool on the floor. He is open and bleeding and peeling and cracking and flaying and peeling and crumbling and he is open and open and open and falling, endlessly, disintegrating at Lance’s feet, essence of him seeping into Lance’s sneakers.

“Why does stabbing hurt twice?” he whispers. “Why can’t acts of good be what they are? Why can I sit on the beach and know less than what splashes in front of me than a blinking distant satellite? It doesn’t — sit right with me.” He swallows again and it’s salty. “Does it sit right with you?”

The boiling puddle of him sputters and bubbles. Every thought he’s ever had is on display. He is a spitting pool of acid and the goo at the bottom of a dumpster. He stains everything he touches. The floor will never be white and pristine again, even if it looks it, because he will always know that here is when he threw up every bit of him and still tried to hide behind what he could and here is where he lost.

“I just want you to tell me the truth,” Lance says eventually. Keith finally meets his eyes, and the brown of them isn’t dark or cold or hard but instead shuttered behind closed doors. For the first time in all the years Keith has known him he has a barrier up. It is so foreign on his face that it’s startling, like walking up to your own front door and finding the locks changed, like laying your head on your pillow and finding it smelling like someone else, like waking up to find your fingerprints in a new pattern.

“I just told you three.”

———

based on this poem by @mavigator

[hockeylvr59]

can you write something about being annoyed when you’re quarantined w the tkachuks and matty and brady mention the league being close to a return & being upset that the league is ignoring all precautions and maybe confiding in matty that you’re worried about him & he just listens to you and becomes soft boyfriend matty

Thank you for the excuse to basically write a big long rant. I’m sure a lot of you can agree and side with the reader in this for sure. (804 words)

____

When was hockey going to be back? That seemed like the only thing people cared about lately. That was all anyone kept asking Matthew and Brady every time they did an interview. And every time you overheard the topic you gritted your teeth and left the room. 

Up until now the answer was that no one really knew. But today you’d wandered into the kitchen to hear Matthew and Brady chatting with Keith about the plan the league was going to announce for a return and completion of playoffs. As they continued to talk you felt your anger growing and suddenly the empty plastic cup you’d been carrying clattered to the floor and you stormed out of the room, tears forming in your eyes. 

You’d barely had time to flop onto Matthew’s bed when your boyfriend found you, concern gracing his face. In the entire time you’d been dating you’d never had an outburst like this and it was clear he didn’t understand why. 

“Baby what’s wrong?” He questioned and because you’d been holding it in for so long, everything you’d been thinking and feeling spilled out like a dam had burst. 

“Am I the only one who sees how completely ridiculous this is?!?” You exclaimed. “Once again money is being put above all common sense and people’s lives are being put at risk. The league is fucking stupid for even thinking about returning. I’m sorry if the fucking olympics are cancelled who the hell do the NHL owners think they are trying to finish the season. It’s absolutely ridiculous!” 

Pausing for only a moment mid rant you didn’t even notice Matty staring at you, mouth gaping. 

“And it’s not just the players...it’s support staff, trainers, hotel maids, airport staff, bus drivers. These people are all just supposed to risk their lives for what? A shiny trophy? Minimum wage?” 

Matt’s hand fell to your knee but you didn’t even acknowledge it. 

“And you’re going to tell me that it’s okay to pull players from their families for months on end with only digital contact. You’re telling me that you’re going to tell all of these new dads that they have to miss MONTHS of their child’s life. You’re telling me that they took into account how players’ mental health is going to be impacted when they’re stuck in a hotel for months?”

“Baby it’s going to be okay.” Matt interjected. 

“Oh bullshit Matt. Someone is going to get sick and when one player gets sick you’ll all get sick. And yes most of you are healthy and likely wouldn’t perish but what about Domi’s diabetes or Letang who has a freaking hole in his heart? What about them? The NHL made this fucking mistake back with the Spanish flu and guess what...someone did die…  And don’t tell me that players will self report symptoms because we all know that’s utter bullshit. The NHL is the league of ‘play through anything’ and ‘we’re not weak like other athletes’ so I call utter bullshit. You’re telling me that in a game seven any one of your teammates who has suddenly come down with symptoms is going to say ‘yeah you know what I’m not gonna play?’ No Matt they won’t because they’ll think it’s no big deal and then suddenly they’re collapsed on the bench unable to breath and being rushed to a hospital. So don’t tell me that it’s going to be okay. It’s a fucking stupid idea and I wish people would see that.” 

By the end of your rant your cheeks are soaked with tears and your voice has cracked, leaving you with only hiccups. Silently Matt pulls you to his chest, his arms wrapping tightly around you. 

“I don’t want anything to happen to you.” You murmur, your voice muffled by the fabric of his shirt. Matt’s hands rubbed up and down your back as you cried, his lips pressing soft kisses to your forehead. 

“You’re right.” He whispered softly. “I’m scared about returning too soon. But this is my job baby...these guys are my family. And I know you don’t like it...I don’t like it either but I promise you I’ll take every precaution and I won’t try to play through something okay? I know it’s not what you want to hear but I love you and I’m not going to let anything keep me from coming home to you.” 

He was right, it wasn’t what you wanted to hear, but it was something you knew you were going to have to accept because screaming it from the rooftops wasn’t going to do you any good. If anything made you feel better it was that Matt had listened to you, really truly listened, and though you could continue to hate it, at least you were being heard.

[i-write-shakespeare-not-disney]

Director’s Commentary- Lovesick Side Effects, Julio visits Lance to apologize

My comments are in bold italics! 

When writing this, I imagined that Julio passed Keith as Keith went downstairs with Kosmo, then sort of paced at Lance’s door until Keith came back. The whole time trying to decide if he had the guts to do it, whether Lance would want to listen to him. By the time Keith came back up, Julio manages to put two and two together when Keith is able to open the door, and Keith can figure it out too. And I mean of course Keith asks who are you do you need something but I mean it’s all super awkward. His dad stood at the door looking uncomfortable as he glanced from Keith to Lance. Keith's expression had turned somewhat stoic, only the slight curl of his lip showing his simmering anger. Keith’s go to when he’s uncomfortable or in new territory is to turn stoic. But here, he can’t even fully reign in the anger because he knows how this man made Lance feel. 

"Kosmo, down," Keith snapped as Kosmo sniffed the work boots and barked for attention. Kosmo retreated with a whine and a huff. This was supposed to be a little nod at the fact that Julio was a good man. Kosmo wanted to play with him, he wasn’t growling or defensive. 

"What are you doing here?" Lance asked cautiously, moving closer to Keith to shield him. From y’know disdained or disgusted looks. 

His dad cleared his throat and scratched his head nervously. "I wanted to talk to you." 

"Oh, now?" Lance asked bitterly. Papá sighed and glanced back at Keith, furrowing his eyebrows. A silent slew of questions. “Who is this, is this the boy, why is he here, are you living together, sleeping together, can we talk in private, but also how do i ask that without sounding rude or more homophobic than you think I am?” Lance scoffed and turned away to look at Keith, ignoring the way his heart pounded, hating the way he was curious enough to give his dad the satisfaction of listening to him. "Take my car and go get some snacks for our movie night, okay? I'll text-" 

"No," Keith said firmly. Here, Keith has already gotten ahead of himself. He’s thinking of Roland and how his father left him. He’s terrified of it happening to Lance if he leaves them alone.

"Keith, I just need to talk-" 

"No. I'm not leaving." 

Lance sighed and shut his eyes trying to talk over him. "This is between-" 

"I don't care-" 

"Keith, baby, please. I need to be alone with him." 

"He could hurt you," Keith said with a wavering voice. Lance opened his eyes in surprise, unexpected tears filling up Keith's eyes without spilling over.

"He's not going to." 

"You don't know that!" 

"Yes, I do, Ke-" 

"You think Roland thought his dad would hurt him the way he did?" Keith snapped. Lance snapped his mouth shut. Keith's faze fell behind Lance onto his dad. "I'm not leaving." 

Lance sighed and touched his face softly. He nodded and pressed his forehead to Keith's. "Okay. Okay, just go to my room then." In my head, this whole time Julio is watching their interaction. Watching how protective Keith has gotten but also just how close and touchy they are. How all of that intimacy isn’t second-guessed, it’s all very natural to them both. He’s seeing the urgency in Keith’s expression and well of course their actions just show their overall bond as a couple. Julio had no idea what to expect of a same-sex relationship, and this is the first time he’s seeing that it’s... well not different from the one he himself has with his wife. (Obviously not quite to that extent at this point, but you guys get what I mean)

Keith didn't seem to like that, but it was a decent compromise. He nodded and headed to the hallway, snapping his fingers for Kosmo to follow him. 

Lance took a deep breath, sent a quick mini-prayer to whatever god might hear him and take pity,  this was kind of a nod at Lance’s lack of/wavering faith at this point in time then turned to look at his dad. 

"Es él? Andas con un chino? Wasn’t expecting that,” he said with a nervous smile. this was supposed to be a joke. He was trying to lighten the mood and be like heh see I’m making jokes, it’s okay. But it’s not. He also just has no idea how to ask IS THAT YOUR BOYFRIEND????

Lance rolled his eyes. "Coreano, Apá. What do you want?" 

His dad continued in Spanish, keeping the conversation private to an extent. If I wrote it all in Spanish I’d lose a lot of comprehension from a lot of readers tbh asdjfkdjfak "I wanted to apologize. I didn’t know how to react, and I didn’t know what to say when you told me. I was angry that your mom already knew. And later, when I talked to her, I was angry that your brothers and sister knew before us. I just…. I needed time to think about what it meant-” oh hey i mentioned this before. I love when I’m still on the same page as me from a long time ago lmfao

“What do you mean what it meant? It means I’m seeing a boy, that’s all it means.” again, in an ideal world it would be that simple. 

“No, Lance. No it’s not. It meant that I had to reevaluate everything I knew. That maybe I don’t know you as well as I thought I did, I think as a parent, it would always hurt when you realize you don’t know everything about your kids for whatever reason. Especially in this case where Lance is so open and wears his heart on his sleeve, it’s like... how could a parent not know? that I did something as a father to make you feel like you couldn’t let me know you. Back to what Caridad was feeling too. Feeling like he messed up as a parent and tbh he did, he just had no idea he did. Okay, yes, I came up with reasons this would happen now, i.e. he’s getting over allura’s death, he’s lonely, it’s a trend and then I talked to you mom and then I had to think again, Mama mcclain told him to get his head out of his ass and realize this was real and then I have Veronica yelling at me in one ear.  she’s defensive of her little brother!!!! I figured once you left it would calm down and I could figure it out and talk to you, then I get Marco screaming at me, telling me I won’t see my grandkids until I…. And Luis hasn’t even talked to me. Your grandmother called me. To yell at me.” I recognize that to a lot of readers this felt like he was just whining and playing the victim. But I wanted it to show why he was so overwhelmed. He wanted space and time to think and figure out how to react properly but everyone else who already knew, had already gotten used to it, everyone was shitting on him also assuming he was just immediately against it. And not only are they yelling at him, they’re adding other pressures. It wasn’t to get sympathy, and he’s not apologizing as a way to just fix things with everyone else, he’s just trying to explain that he’s been juggling these other things and if he hadn’t been he might’ve gone to see Lance earlier. 

Lance gulped and stared at the floor. “What, you want me to feel sorry for you? Which, it’s Lance. He does feel bad. But he also has a right not to pity him and to stay angry and to feel like a lot of readers felt when reading Julio’s response. You’re not the one who gets ostracized for who you are by your own family, Dad. God, I wasn’t expecting you to throw me a party or congratulate me! I just wanted you to talk to me and understand, but you didn’t even do that!” 

“I know. And I’m sorry,” he said, slumping as he walked toward Lance. Lance took a few steps back. SYMBOLISM! DISTANCE! This time it’s Lance pulling back. Also kind of... he doesn’t want to be close because he might be more privy to accommodating to his dad instead of standing up for himself. “Can you really be this angry with me for reacting differently than your mother? We’re different people-” who react differently and think differently and require different things. For Caridad, it was the silence and space she got while making coffee. For Julio it was stepping away to think and figure out what to say. Julio’s just wasn’t compatible with Lance and also let’s all be real- the machismo that causes lack of communication fucked it up too. If Julio had just said, “Give me some space to think, I’ll be back and I’ll tell you when we can pick this back up” instead of storming off (note: Keith storms off in his first argument with Lance. The second time, he communicates he needs space! Still not compatible with what Lance needed at the time, but it avoided a lot of issues), things would be a lot different.

“You’re both my parents. That should have been enough.” 

“In a perfect world yes.” I love when I do this. haha

Lance felt his throat constrict. He felt like he was about to puke. Lance felt this as a personal attack. Like HE was imperfect and that’s what stopped Julio from immediately being okay with everything. But of course, that’s not how it was meant to come across. He wanted to scream and cry and punch something, and that scared him because he was not a violent person. “Get out.” 

“Lance-”

“What do you want me to say!” Lance shouted. “You want me to say it’s okay? Because it’s not! The way you reacted isn’t okay. Which is what we’re all thinking!!! We need a change!!!  I get it, I surprised you, the relationship I have with my boyfriend is weird to you, it’s confusing because of Allura, yes. But you- you acted like I don’t exist! Bad coping. Bad communication. So I acknowledge this shitty apology, but no it’s not okay. And frankly? I don’t really care what else you want me to say because you didn’t care about what I had to say when I wanted to talk to you.” Lance walked toward the door to open, but his father grabbed him by the arm to stop him. 

There was a moment of panic. A moment of sheer, heartbreaking fear where Lance wondered if his father was capable of it. Hitting him, I mean. But the idea is so unfathomable that Lance can’t even think the word, you know?His dad saw it too, and he immediately let go. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he said. “I just want to fix this. I didn’t mean you were imperfect, I meant the world-” He shut his eyes and rubbed his face. “The world teaches people to think a certain way. I got used to it, I couldn’t even see that it was bad. And then you come and tell me… that you’re in a new relationship… with a boy. And even if I don’t know you as well as I thought, I know most of you.” He stepped closer, slower this time as he grabbed Lance by the shoulders. “I know that you are good. That nothing about the way you show love could ever be bad, so how could everyone in my life before have been so wrong? So this whole part, I was alluding to the way the world condemns homosexuality by sexualizing it. People hear gay or see a same sex couple and respond with disgust because it’s correlated to sexual things, sexual acts they can’t fathom. Julio had to turn that stereotype/stigma over and recognize that’s not what it was. It’s what he means when he says Lance is good. He’s recognizing that gay isn’t a synonym to bad or sinful the way a lot of Catholic people assume.  I didn’t get it, and I still don’t. I don’t understand how you could feel this way about a boy, but I believe that you do, (he doesn’t doubt it/think Lance is confused anymore) and even just now….” His dad let out a shaky breath. “You look at each other the way your mom and I would when we were young. I love this line, and I think someone (Kay, I think?) mentioned how big that was. That Julio saw a reflection of his own relationship with the person he married in this boy and his son.ahhhh It’s real, whether I understand it or not.” 

Lance felt the anger that had been ravaging his body suddenly die, releasing itself through hot tears that fell down his cheeks in streams. “I hate this. I hate that I still want your approval. That I still want you to be proud of me,” he cried. In my head, at this part, this is a double whammy. Because Lance is crying and being sentimental, which isn’t what guys “should” do. So he’s upset about wanting approval and being scared to let him down WHILE feeling like he’s continuously letting him down. I also based this off of my feelings about coming out to my mom. I still haven’t, but the fear is there because of this. And no matter how much I don’t want to care what she thinks, I do. even when she hurts me, even though I have so many people I can turn to, it still feels like she’s the one whose opinion matters. And I put that fear and hurt into Lance. “That even though everyone else was happy for me or tried to be, you not talking to me hurt more. I don’t want to keep disappointing you-”

“You don’t!” Lance sucked his teeth and walked away from his father. “Why would you think that?” 

“Are you serious?” Lance said, letting out a humorless laugh. “I know it. I’m the runt of the litter for you. Too emotional, too sentimental. I’m wasting my time getting a writing degree that I might not even use because I can’t pick up a pen anymore. And now this. I just keep letting you down and…. And I’m done apologizing for it. I’m done apologizing for being… me. I wanted this to be the point where Lance grows solidly into that idea of being unapologetically himself. Even through that fear and hurt, he’s not going to apologize because he’s happy. Because that’s who I am, Dad, I’m the boy who likes love stories and poetry and loves writing but might not be able to do it again, the boy who cries because his dad won’t talk to him, the boy who wants to fall in love with another boy. And I like being this way.” 

The words left him spent, left his father speechless for a long time. He turned away and sat down on the couch while Lance sniffed and cried into his sleeve. heart on your sleeve, tears on your sleeve, same thing, right? After a while his dad patted the seat next to him. “Come sit,” he said. Lance hesitated for a second before indulging him. “I’ve been a horrible father if I’ve made you feel like you were a disappointment. RECOGNITION. I love the idea of parents who can recognize and properly apologize for their mistakes. And I like the idea that even someone as proud as Julio can put that aside for the sake of their child because he just loves them that much. That it’s worth the discomfort of digging into his own feelings an admitting he was wrong if it meant Lance never felt this way again. That was never my intention. You make me proud, Lance. You make me so proud in so many ways. You made it farther than the rest of us. You found something you love to do and you’ve worked on it your whole life. You inspired your sister to go to college. You’re unafraid to be who you are, to demand change, and you teach me every day….” 

Lance tried to swallow and wiped his face again. The words were somehow managing to soften him up while feeling hollow. Because it’s everything he wanted to hear, everything he needed to hear, but he doesn’t know if he believes it because he spent so long feeling the opposite. He had nothing to say to that. 

“His name is Efrain,” his father said suddenly. Lance furrowed his eyebrows and looked at his father in confusion. “My co-worker. I asked him last week…. If he even liked his nickname. He said he was used to it, but I thought about what you said, and I asked, ‘Do you like it though?’ And… he said no. But that he knew it’s what people would always call him. So I asked him his real name, and I’ve been calling him that. I told him about what you said to me, and he said you had balls to say something.” OKAY so this whole bit I had planned since I planned the Christmas scene. I planned out that slip and confrontation and I knew I wanted to go back to it. Because again, pride. What Lance said on Christmas stuck with Julio, he was just too proud to admit he should listen. But once Lance came out, Julio realized that what he said that night upset Lance because LANCE felt offended by it. That there had probably been so many times Julio carelessly and accidentally hurt Lance and didn’t know it and it was time he learned and changed that. The first step was talking to his coworker like Lance told him he should. And I also felt that the fact that this happened without anyone knowing until now shows the sincerity everyone doubted was there before. It’s a way to say, “I took this step because you told me to, not because anyone else did. Because this mattered to you. And I learned from it, and I want to keep learning.”

“Oh.” Lance stared at the floor as he thought back to Christmas. “You… remembered that?” 

“Of course. I’d thought about asking him the next time I saw him at work, but I figured it didn’t matter. That it was just how we talked, how we did things. Then you told me about this boy and I realized… that I was hurting you. And if I was hurting you by calling someone else that, then how badly was I hurting Efrain? So I asked.” 

Lance had to smile at the fact that his dad wasn’t even saying the nickname anymore. “I’m glad you did that,” he said softly, this time in English. “It means a lot.” 

His dad wiped his eyes and sighed tiredly. He scratched his head and patted Lance on the back before gripping his shoulder. “I know I shouldn’t have walked out on you,” he said, keeping it in Spanish. “I just needed time to think about everything before I could listen to you talk, and I know that wasn’t fair to you. But I want to try to be better. And I’ll do anything to fix what I did.” He ruffled Lance hair before pulling his hand back and crossing his arms. Men. Men and their fear of emotions. Granted, he’s capping out on his limit of emotional vulnerability. 

Lance chuckled softly and wiped his eyes. “Yeah. Actually Keith does that too. If we argue he has to distance himself for a while. Except he doesn’t ignore me for weeks.” I really didn’t mean to make so many parallels between Lance’s parents and his relationship with Keith but it just happened and honestly, it works.

“I know, I know! I just didn’t know where to start. And everyone else was getting mad at me and I didn’t know if you’d even let me talk to you. I didn’t even know if I’d actually knock on your door, but that-” He waved a hand in the direction of the hallway. “Keith saw me. I saw him on the stairs when he was leaving, but I didn’t know he was…. Boyfriend, right?” Still a little funny for him to say.

Lance smiled and nodded. “Yeah.” 

He nodded too and scratched his head. “It’ll take me time. I wish I could say it wouldn’t, but I need to get used to it.” Lance pursed his lips and sighed in resignation. For now, this was what he would get. “Am I… allowed to ask questions? Are there ones I shouldn’t ask?” 

Lance groaned, half laughing through it. “Yeah. Yeah, Papá, you can ask questions. But not today. Podemos hablar después, okay?” 

“Okay. Pero me perdonas?” 

Lance hesitated and stood back up. “Yeah. I forgive you. But you have to be on your best behavior when I take Keith to meet Mami. You have to be there, and you have to be nice, and you have to try.” 

“Claro, mijo. I’ll be there.” He cleared his throat and looked at the time. “I should get back. I didn’t tell your mami I was coming out here.” Lance furrowed his eyebrows. “I was thinking about talking to you, and the next thing I knew I’d taken the freeway to come here instead of the exit home.” Hopefully more proof that he did this because he wanted to, not to get back into good graces with everyone else. He walked to the door with Lance following after him. His dad turned to look at him and tousled his hair again. “Dile gracias a tu novio.” 

“For what?” 

“For showing up at the door before I could talk myself out of this.” 

“Ah. Gotcha.” Lance nodded and shifted on his feet. “Well. Thanks for coming out here. I’ll call Mami and see when she wants to get coffee.” 

Papá nodded and opened the door, but before he could actually step out, he turned around and wrapped his arms around Lance tightly. Lance’s love language is physical touch, and he needed this. Julio knows that to an extent, but it still took a second for it to click that maybe his son needed tangible confirmation of his affection. It was rare for Lance’s dad to hug him this way, and the last time he got one like this had been after getting home from Allura’s funeral. That’s like. 2 years guys. 

Even rarer were the sniffles Lance could hear in his ear, the way his shoulder shook in a way that told Lance he was trying to hide it. Lance decided not to comment on it and simply hugged him back just as tightly. JULIO IS CRYING AND ITS AWKWARD FOR HIM AND LANCE KNOWS THAT. Idk. I like letting men cry. And even though he’s hiding it here, it’s still a huge step. For Julio.

“Sabes que te quiero, verdad?” his papi asked gruffly. “And I get prouder of you every single day. I love you for who you are, mijo. Siempre.” We need. More. Parents. Saying. They’re. Proud. The She-Ra Screeches discord groups knows how I get about “I’m proud of you” it’s... my weakness. As well as Good Dads. 

Lance could only nod, unable to speak past the knot in his throat. I remember writing this and having a knot in my own throat. Because I write in the head of the character so I was experiencing this as Lance but also because... it’s still such a good outcome in comparison to a lot of Latine kids can go through and it just... idk. Makes me emotional for myself. I kind of hate the idea of ahaha look I cry in my own writing, but just. Some of these things are idealized things I would want or just have enough of my family or dynamics in them that I’ll empathize too much. And I hope that came across for others. I swear I’m not patting myself on the back, I just. I have vivid memories of what parts gave me my own emotional struggle when writing. He stayed that way for a while, enjoying this one moment with his father. It would be a struggle to get his parents comfortable with who Lance shared his life with, but they were both willing to try. Lance let him go when he felt the arms loosen around him. 

Without another word, his dad left the apartment and Lance locked the door. 

I was really excited about this scene because I felt that it shows growth for Julio and it shows how it’s also only the start of how much growth he’ll go through. I tried to make it to where each time you see Julio again, he’s growing a little more. And I was really worried about it not coming off sincere especially with how long it took him to talk or look at Lance again, but this was also one of the scenes I had vaguely planned for early on. 

[beyards]

Plance cashier au where Lance is the cashier and Pidge is the one customer who walks in at closing to get one item

Closing Shift

pidge/lance

1478 words

gen audience

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It was 9:51:47 PM, which meant Lance had exactly 8 minutes and 13 seconds before he could officially lock the doors. Unfortunately, someone else was having just as long a night as he was.

Lance slumped over the counter, staring ahead at the sugary rainbow of check out candy neatly stacked and ordered. Within an hour of opening tomorrow they were sure to be a mess, but he was kind of proud of how hard he’d worked to make them look nice. It was one of the few things he actually got joy out of in this miserable job, miserable life really.

It was 9:14:47 PM, which meant Lance had exactly 8 minutes and 13 seconds before he could officially lock the doors. Everything was accounted for, every other register closed out, everything cleaned up, but he couldn’t leave until exactly 10 PM. Damn corporate policy. Nobody was even going to come in the damn store. He’d worked closing for the past 4 days and hardly anybody ever came in after 9:45. That might have something to do with Keith shutting off the lights that spelled out the store name at that time, but still. Finally, Lance caved. Fuck it. It was only a minute or two until 10, and it’s not like Shiro was going to write him up for that, he was a pretty chill manager.

Suddenly the door chimed, signaling somebody entering the store.

Lance, figuring it was pretty much 10 PM anyways said “Sorry, we’re closed-”

“No you’re not, it’s 9:54.” Snapped a voice.

Internally, Lance groaned, not even bothering to look up. He didn’t have the patience to deal with any more bullshit today. He already had that one lady try to cuss him out when she accidentally put the card reader in Spanish and couldn’t figure out how to change it back. She said that it was a damn shame that now she couldn’t even get groceries without ‘witnessing the assault of American culture by the gangs and rapists from Mexico’ and told him Trump was going to deport his whole family. He didn’t have the heart to tell her he was Cuban.

Lance flipped his light back on and rebooted up his register, grumbling the entire time. He couldn’t even punish her by faking a register problem or faking a need to call management. He wanted to go home. He’d just have to rely on karma to get this entitled customer in line.

To his surprise, he heard footsteps rounding into his lane and put something on his counter by 9:57. As he thoughtlessly reached for the big ass chocolate bar this cretin was purchasing, he heard a sniffle. It was faint, and if the muzak that usually played hadn’t been shut off a few minutes ago he surely would have missed it. At first Lance waved it off as allergies as he passed the first item over the scanner, but then on a whim he actually looked up.

Her eyes were red and puffy, a tear slipping down her reddened face. He froze, unsure what to do. He was trained to handle all sorts of situations like active shooter, robberies, fake IDs, suspected human traffiking, and mislabeled merchandise, but Lance had never been through a course on how to comfort a crying customer.

“Uh,” Lance said, setting down the item in a bag, “are you okay?”

She wiped her eyes and shot him a glare. It would’ve been petrifying if it wasn’t for the fact more tears were spilling out already. Realizing what she was doing wasn’t working she looked away.

“I’m fi-ine.” She huffed out, the declaration punctuated by another sniffle.

“You’re crying in a grocery store at 10 PM,” Lance pointed out bluntly, “I think that’s like, the opposite of fine.”

“Well,” she tried wiping her eyes again, and this time Lance noticed little mascara smudges and a hint of a shimmery powder on her lids, “it’s closing and you probably have a girlfriend to get home to.”

It was almost like she was just throwing the words haphazardly at Lance. There was an edge of bitterness, but for the most part it was just sadness and maybe a hint of jealousy behind it. He took another look at her appearance. She was wearing sort of nice clothes, nothing formal or fancy, but really cute he had to admit. It was nice shorts with an off the shoulder top. Her hair was in soft ringlets, probably looser now than they’d been earlier, so clearly there was some effort put into it. All that combined with the makeup pointed at the strong possibility that she’d just been burned by Cupid.

Lance snorted, starting to ring her up. “Nah, I’ve been single for nearly a year now. I found out my last girlfriend of 3 years had been cheating on me literally the day I was going to propose.”

He flushed, realizing that he didn’t know why he’d just told her that. It wasn’t any of her business, and in fact Lance had told 3 people the truth about why he and Nyma weren’t together anymore. Maybe he just felt bad for her.

“Oh shoot,” the girl mumbled, “I’m sorry, that sucks.”

“Yeah, but don’t feel too bad for me,” Lance added dully, “I’d caught her cheating the month before but she promised it was a mistake and that she was so sorry. So I forgave her. It really shouldn’t have been a surprise when I walked into our bedroom and saw her being fucked by two guys at once. I should’ve known she didn’t just stop, I was the ultimate cuck.”

The customer cringed, but chuckled a bit. “Oh god, and I thought I was having it bad.”

“Well, whatever you’re going through,” he sighed, finalizing the sale with the cash she gave him, “I’m sure it’s not as bad as getting cucked.”

“Probably not,” she mumbled, accepting her change, “I just got stood up by guy who was dared to ask me out as part of his fraternity rush.”

Lance shut off his register as the lights in the back of the store went out. “Wait, you knew he was a frat boy and you still accepted?”

“He was my bio partner,” she explained, following him as he made his way over to the time clock, “and I didn’t know he was joining a frat. It’s not like he mentioned it to me and I don’t talk to people on campus who are part of that crowd, so I just didn’t know.”

You didn’t look this guy up on social media or anything?” Lance asked, raising an eyebrow. The pair made their way towards the exit. “That’s rule one of dating in college.”

She folded her arms over her chest. “I don’t really know those rules. It’s not like anyone ever told me about them.”

“Okay, fair,” Lance said, leading them over to a park bench so they could talk some more, “so this guy asked you out and you said yes.”

“I guess- I mean, yeah.” The girl sat down next to him, jiggling her foot, “he’s always been super sweet, talks to me in the hallways, and we would text a lot too. He’d ask for pictures of my dog like every day.”

“Ah, animal loving,” Lance whistled, “that’s how they get ya.”

She glowered at him, but continued anyways. “I agreed to meet him for a milkshake, and I waited 3 hours but he never showed up. Finally one of my friends texted me saying there was a timelapse of me sitting at the diner barstool for the first two hours taken from a security camera up on social media. I guess one of the fraternity members works there…”

Her bottom lip trembled and Lance’s heart really hurt for her. “Wow, that’s just… wow.”

“Yeah,” she let out a shuddery breath.

They sat there in silence for a bit, the cool night breeze playing with her curls. He couldn’t help but steal glances at her every now and then. He felt really, really bad for her. He’d been the victim of some cruel pranks in the past too, and he knew what it was like for someone to just toy with your feelings. He bit his lip, hesitant to offer this. Was he even ready?

“Hey,” Lance said, after a few moments, “do you still wanna get that milkshake?”

She looked up at him and he could see she’d been crying again.

“Only if you want to,” he added hastily, feeling his face heat up, “and it can just be as a friend thing, or well, not a friend thing, I’m just your cashier but like, hey, I don’t want this asshole to ruin your night, you know?”

She gave him a small smile. “Actually, I think I’d like that.” She got to her feet, offering her hand. “I’m Pidge, by the way.”

“Lance,” he grinned, accepting her handshake before getting to his own feet. “Let’s go bring all the boys to the yard.”

(like the story? reblog it! let me know if you want a sequel!)

[stressedspidergirlsfandomblog]

Part 19?

((((just a heads up, this deals with a lot of unhappy things, from suicide to torture and assault. So if this is a chapter you want to skip, you might want to. It is unbeta’d. But I’m a slut for feedback so I didn’t want to sit on it for days on end without knowing what people think. I’ve been super blocked about writing it, and it finally just worked out, more or less. It’ll get edited, and posted on ao3 eventually. My beta and I aren’t that far along, I think I’ve posted all we have edited. I’ll have to double check. ))))) 

“We should talk before I lose my nerve,” Shiro mumbles after they’ve been sitting for a while. 

“Is it really that bad?” Curtis asks, pulling back some to get a better look at Takashi’s face. “Between the two of us I think we’ve covered almost the entire gamut of human suffering.” 

“I think it might be, I know someone always has it worse-” 

“That’s irrelevant,” Curtis interrupts. “There is no ‘worse’ in trauma. That’s not how that works. Would you tell one of your paladins that they had it worse than each other? Or that one suffered more and deserves something special?” 

“No, of course not, they need to support each other’s needs as is!” he says indignantly and then realizes what he’s walked into. “I just don’t think it’s fair to compare four teens and an idiot in space with people who’ve been through even more horrific stuff.” 

“What idiot? Keith?” Curtis teases, kissing Takashi’s cheek. “You’re being extra stupid on purpose and I don’t love it,” he informs the other man. “If I say, you had it worse than me, does that feel true to you?” 

“No, you saw people around you die, you lost….” 

“But I had happy parents, a good childhood, I’ve been accepted and loved by my whole family my whole life. So how do I compare that with what you went through? Am I even allowed to talk about my ‘suffering’ with you? Since you’ve had it worse?” Curtis pushes. He’s going to make this point and win this argument once and for all. 

“It’s not the same thing, you can’t compare my childhood to yours, or the Galra Invasion to being held captive, you can’t just compare our pain like that,” Takashi points out. 

“So would you stop doing it then?” Curtis asks. 

“I wasn’t-” 

Curtis raises an eyebrow. 

“I will do my best to stop and correct myself when I start to do it.” 

“That’s all I can ask for,” Curtis smiles. “Our pain is so different, love, you can’t put price tags or weights on it. And we all show it so differently. No one handles things the same. No one feels the same way about something. Even if we both love something, we bring with us completely different ways of seeing it and reasons why we love it.” 

“When did you turn into a great sage?” he wrinkles his nose at his boyfriend. 

“I’ve always been smart like this. You were too busy busting flight records in the Academy to much care about intellectual pursuits.” 

“Hey!” 

Curtis laughs and kisses him. Takashi kisses back, stepping back in so their bodies are perfectly aligned. He almost doesn’t want to know what it is they have to talk about. It will not only ruin the moment, but clearly the other man isn’t sure how to begin, and doesn’t want to, either. But it’s not Curtis’ job to push. It’s his job to wait. 

Reluctantly pulling back, Shiro looks around. “Can we get this over with?” he asks hesitantly. 

“Yeah, of course,” Curtis says, face clouding. Clearly this is going to be awful for both of them. Reaching out to touch Takashi’s cheek, he lets his hand drop when Shiro pulls away a little. 

“Sorry,” he says, when he sees the hurt in the other man’s eyes. “Sorry, I just. If you start being nice and touching me, I won’t be able to do this. And you’ve said you won’t fool around with me until we do this, and I really really want to fool around and have sex, and I’m going to lose my nerve if we don’t just get this over with.” 

He takes a minute to meet Takashi’s eyes, before nodding a little. “Let’s sit on the couch?” he suggests. Then when it’s over they can cuddle up and comfort each other a lot easier. 

“I can do that,” Takashi agrees, practically vibrating out of his skin with nerves. He’d known his day was leading up to this, but it doesn’t make it any easier. “I… don’t... No matter what I do, if you interrupt me, or, or talk, or do anything to help, I won’t be able to get through this. I’ll start crying and I will never be able to actually tell you any of this.” He meets Curtis’ eyes, his own already welling with tears that he blinks away irritably. 

Curtis nods, and leans back, crossing his legs and then crossing his arms across his chest. “Okay. No interrupts, and I’ll keep my hands to myself,” he says seriously. “But, if you can’t do it, just lean into me. And we’ll try again later. Okay? I won’t hold you until you ask.” Verbally or nonverbally. 

Nodding, “I don’t know if I can make eye contact with you, while I do this,” Shiro whispers. 

“That’s okay,” Curtis reassures him, letting him stall. Some part of him his morbidly curious, and he hates that. The rest of him doesn’t want to know anything about this, other than it could impact them both negatively in bed. And in their relationship in general. Half tempted to give the other man an out, he takes a slow even breath. 

“Okay,” he looks up at Curtis briefly, seeking that love and reassurance he always sees when they make eye contact. “Don’t talk to me anymore,” he says with a shuddering breath. Grateful when Curtis just stays quiet. “I know, I know you know the Galra ran experiments on me,” his voice shakes and he takes a few breaths to calm himself. “And sometimes I don’t think it was malicious, just, curious. It was still awful,” he whispers in a smaller voice. “Like when they would test the mobility in my joints, see how far they could bend before they broke. I think hurting me was just a bonus for them on their journey to scientific inquiry.” He clenches his fist, and then slides a hand into his pocket where he keeps Allura’s gem. She’d want him to talk about this. She’d be proud he was working past it. Thinking about their silent nights on the bridge of the Castle, just watching stars, unable to speak about their nightmares, he takes another breath. 

He can’t look up at Curtis, or he’ll break and never be able to do this. See those blue eyes softened in compassion and worry. His breathing hitches just thinking about it. Focus. Squeezing the gem in his palm, he nods to himself a little. “Well, they were… curious, and they did all sorts of things,” his throat squeezes and he breathes through his nose. He can do this. “I know they stuck things up my nose, in my ears, I’m… I’m pretty sure they did things to my eyes that I can’t remember,” thank the gods. “They were interested in human reproduction…” his breathing is ragged and it takes several moments to compose himself. 

Curtis is rigid in his seat, because he has to be or he’s going to pull Takashi into his arms and not let go of him for several hours. He is doing his best to keep his face neutral and calm, for all he can feel the rage making his heart pound. Biting his lip to stop himself from saying a word, he is starting to get where some of this is leading. 

“They were interested in our anatomy in general… I guess since I was Champion they were especially curious as to what made me tick, vs another human. I don’t know if they experimented on Matt or Sam like they did me, but I doubt it. Since they were both removed from the arena to do scientific work.” His voice takes on a flat, almost bored quality. “One time, they chose to, I don’t know if they knew how humiliating it would be. I have no idea what culture or customs they had, or if they even saw me as anything other than a slave…” his voice trails off and he looks down at his pocket, rolling the gem over and over in his hand. 

“I don’t know if it was intentional, I don’t know if they even wanted to hurt me. They did plenty of things that were painless.” And so many things that weren’t. “It could have just been a misjudgement on their part. I don’t really know. But they tore me open… ‘exploring.’ I suppose I’m lucky they didn’t rupture anything internal, but sometimes I wish they had.” He shrugs a little, more to himself than to Curtis. He’s almost forgotten the other man is in the room with him. “When they were done, they left me in my cell. And the bleeding just… didn’t stop. So I hid it. I wanted to die, and then one day I woke up and it was healing.” Tears spill over his cheeks without warning. “So I tore myself open, because it was the only way I could hurt myself in those cells.” 

His throat squeezes and he struggles to breathe. Just admitting it. Admitting it out loud that he had wanted to die. Had tried to kill himself. It’s oddly freeing while absolutely terrifying. Because he’s admitting it to himself now, too, for the first time. “Eventually they figured out something was wrong. I… did some damage to myself,” he whispers. “I’d been refusing food, hiding it so they wouldn’t know. Trying to make sure I hid the blood, too… so they stapled me up, chained me spread eagle so I couldn’t move so much as an inch, and shoved a feeding tube down my throat…. And left me until I healed.” He chokes down a sob. “And the worst part is, I withstood everything they threw at me until then, and… something that might have just been an accident, something that might not have been even the slightest bit malicious is what broke me,” he whispers, starting to sob. “So many people survive intentional… attacks like that, and they survive and they go on and that’s what made me lose it…” he chokes out a bitter laugh. “Funny right? Kill people. Have your bones broken. Face torture. Sendak used to….” he looks up for a second, shaking his head with his lips pressed flat to his teeth so he won’t cry. “He loved that electric baton they had. And I handled that, too.” 

Curtis forces himself to put his hands on his knees, so that when and if Takashi is ready for comfort, he won’t have to wait for Curtis to be able to peel his arms off his chest. He’s so rigid, and so angry, and so devastated for his partner. But he promised to stay quiet until it was over. He is dying to comfort Takashi, tell him everyone has a breaking point. Or just something that they can’t withstand. None of it makes him any less. He wants to also make sure that the other man isn’t considering what he had in that cell, not anymore. So he clenches his jaw and bites his tongue because this isn’t about him right now. For all he thinks he might be sick later. Repeatedly. 

Starting to cry, he feels like he almost can’t stop the words now that he’s started. “They hurt me so much, and I’m so scared that if I try… if I try and do some of the things… that I would want, that you would want… Curtis I’m so scared if I try and…” he chokes, sobbing. “I don’t want to go down on you and freeze up,” he can’t force himself to explain why. Hopefully Curtis can infer why that might happen. “And I’m scared that if you… I’m scared if I let you, if I want you to, I’m scared the scars… I don’t want to tear open again, I don’t want to remember how that felt, I don’t want to feel any of that with you and I don’t want you to not sleep with me because I can’t give you what you can give me,” he forces out in a breath. “I’m so scared if we do the things I want to do, I’ll panic and hurt you, or… get hurt and I don’t want to hurt anymore,” he sobs miserably, shaking. 

He hunches around himself, hand squeezing the gem in his pocket so tightly he’ll have the mark for hours. Curtis takes a few breaths to center himself, tears of his own running down his cheeks. Takashi has not told him he can respond now, yet, or do anything, and he hates to break that promise but he can’t take it anymore. He leans forward and gathers his partner into his arms. “I love you,” he says fiercely, “I love you and it doesn’t matter to me who puts what where, it never did and it never will.” Because that’s part of what this is about. Rubbing Takashi’s back, he slowly encourages the other man to curl into him. With gentle touches and soft reassurance, he eases Takashi into his lap so the other man can be as close to him as possible. 

“I would never want to hurt you or scare you while we’re in bed together,” Curtis reassures him, blinking through tears of his own. For all he’s thankful Takashi doesn’t seem to think he could do that intentionally. Putting all the blame on himself, instead of the Galra. Kissing his temple, Curtis closes his eyes, feeling tears run over his own cheeks. Squeezing his partner tightly, he wishes he knew how to be more comforting. 

Shiro wraps his legs around Curtis’ middle, too upset to be worried about if it’s comfortable for the other man or not. His hand is clutching the back of Curtis’ shirt, trying to press himself as close as possible to him. The need to feel safe, and loved is absolutely overwhelming. “I’m sorry,” he forces out between sobs. It’s a lot to dump on someone. Even if that someone said they wanted to know. “I’m sorry,” he says again, between sobs, over and over until he feels like he can’t stop. 

“You don’t need to be sorry,” Curtis promises, forcing back sobs of his own. He has no idea what Takashi is apologizing for. Trying to find a way to hug him tighter, Curtis shifts his grip a little. Realizing at some point his partner is stuck repeating it, he pulls back a little to kiss him gently on the cheek, bridge of his nose, and corner of his mouth. Surprised when Takashi turns into the kiss, Curtis doesn’t stop him and kisses him back. When Shiro tries to pull back to apologize more, Curtis kisses him again to stop him. “I don’t know what you’re apologizing for, but you don’t have to, there’s nothing to be sorry for,” he promises. Pulling Takashi close again, he does his best to keep his breathing as even as he can. For all he’s starting to cry now, too. 

He shifts a hand up to Takashi’s head, gently, but compulsively, smoothing the silvery white hair. Curtis isn’t sure if he’s trying to comfort himself, or his partner more, right now. 

When he feels himself starting to wind down, Shiro pulls back, ashamed. He doesn’t need to make such a fuss. They stuck things in every hole in his body. What did it matter which one? They’d made holes and probed those, too. Cut him open. Cut his arm apart. Without anesthesia. They had tortured him so many times. Thrown him into that arena again and again and again. Body shuddering in exhaustion after the force of his outburst, he looks at Curtis wearily. Pulling his hand free from the back of Curtis’ shirt is no small feat, and it cramps as he tries to flex it. When his hand is finally under his control again, he reaches out to smooth away the tears on his partner’s cheeks. They look like diamonds against the dark skin, but Shiro still hates seeing them there. 

Curtis allows Takashi to pull back, and get himself the rest of the way under control. “Let me go get some tissues,” he says softly, pressing a kiss to Takashi’s forehead. 

“Okay,” he says hoarsely, half terrified Curtis won’t come back. Now that he knows just how damaged the goods are, he won’t want them anymore. Trying not to cry more, he can’t stop himself. Wrapping his arm around his middle he rocks a little, wishing he was stronger. 

Shocked into stopping when something cold and wet touches the back of his neck, he freezes. Curtis is back, his face shiny with water and his hairline still damp. He holds still while Curtis gently runs the washcloth over his face and neck. It feels so good. 

“Here, hold it up to your eyes for a minute or so while I make some tea,” Curt says gently, quickly folding it into a compress and holding it out to his partner. He also drops a box of tissues in Takashi’s lap. Leaving him to settle down some on his own, Curtis heads into the kitchen and starts making tea with shaking hands. 

He glances at the tea bags and picks chamomile, setting up a pot. When the water from the kettle boils, he fills the pot and gets out two mugs. Adding a little honey to both, he has a feeling after all the crying they could use the sugar. Waiting a few minutes, he glances back at his partner, feeling devastated. Takashi’s shoulders still shake here and there, and from a room away Curtis can see the trembling in his hand as he holds the washcloth to his face.

 Counting down the seconds until the tea bag has steeped enough to have some flavor, he glances at his comm. Should he call someone? Is there anyone Takashi would even take comfort in right now? Shaking his head a little, he pockets the device again and pours out two mugs of tea, stirs the honey into them, and heads back to the couch. Settling them on the cheap coffee table, he pulls Takashi back into his arms. 

“You don’t have to stay,” he says dully, tears still running down his cheeks. He can’t seem to make them stop, but at least the sobbing has. 

“What?” Curtis asks, too surprised to have any idea what the other man is talking about. “Where am I supposed to be going?” he glances at the clock. 

“I just,” Shiro huffs. “I get it if you don’t want to be here right now.” He blinks hard, trying to stop more tears from squeezing out. 

“Oh,” Curtis sighs heavily. “You can’t drive me off with this stuff.” Not that he’s trying to downplay how bad the ‘stuff’ in question really is. It’s just that he’s not afraid of it. Or Takashi’s pain. Sure, he’ll probably need an extra therapy appointment or two this month, instead of the one he’s gotten down to. But he’s not giving up on his partner now. They’ve come too far. “I love you.” 

“I love you, too,” Shiro’s voice cracks. He lets Curtis settle him in closer, tucking his head under his chin. It feels so good. So safe. Nuzzling into the embrace, he works on evening out his breathing. He can calm down. Curtis won’t leave. At least not yet, so he can let himself feel safe enough to settle back down. 

Rubbing Takashi’s back in slow circles, Curtis nuzzles him back as he tries to ignore the tortured flesh under his hand. Usually he just accepts it. Or ignores it. “I’m not leaving you, well, not until tomorrow when I have to go to work. But I really don’t want you to be alone all day tomorrow. Can I call someone for you?” he asks, worried. He doesn’t want this to spiral into Takashi hurting himself again. Or just being too depressed to do anything to take care of himself until Curtis gets home. Not that he’s really let himself get that bad. “Maybe you and Keith can convince Pidge you need to keep testing the speeders?” 

“Maybe,” Shiro agrees wearily. “Just as long as I get to sleep in.” 

“Deal,” Curtis agrees, a weight off his chest. “Come to my place tomorrow? Or just meet me at the Garrison and I’ll take you with me?” he offers. He has more teas, and a much nicer comfier place. For all Keith had helped Takashi make some improvements. The new sheets are a plus. The extra groceries are good, too. But Curtis still feels like he’s got more at his own apartment that will help them both feel comfortable. For one, he has pillows and a blanket on his couch. Two, he has a much bigger bathroom with a nicer shower. 

“Are you sure you want me around?” he asks. He can almost feel the glare he gets and clears his throat. “Not like that, I just… you don’t need time to… process?” 

Pulling back, he very deliberately catches Takashi’s face with both hands and presses his forehead against his own. “Look at me a minute?” he asks. Smiling a bit when red rimmed grey eyes meet his. “I have known since I met you that you had been through some bad stuff. I knew before I met you. This is awful stuff to have lived through. And I am sorry it happened. But I knew coming into this relationship you would have baggage. And I decided that if I wanted to be with you I would help you carry it. I can’t do it all the time, we both know that. And I have my own stuff, and you’ve been helpful and patient with it. So just… stop worrying that something the Galra did to you will make me stop loving you.” Not surprised when fresh tears roll over scarred cheeks, Curtis gently kisses him. “I have never been with you because I wanted to fuck you. So if you’re on top, it makes no difference to me.” 

“Is that a polite way of saying you don’t want to fuck me?” Shiro tries to joke. 

“I am saying I don’t care about that stuff. Being with you like this… is painful, I know, but it’s worth it. And just as worth my time as fooling around with you in the shower. It’s like yin and yang right? Good and bad? Can’t have the good without the bad.” 

“Well hopefully we’ve both had enough bad times we don’t have to create new bad memories together,” Shiro mutters. Then wonders if what he just said made any sense at all. If anyone’s going to understand what he meant, it’s Curtis. 

“We might make mistakes. Get frustrated with each other. It’ll be okay in the end. As long as we keep being honest with each other.” He pulls away and hands Takashi the mug. “How about we have the tea, get cleaned up, and go to bed?” 

“And then you’ll tell me whatever you wanted me to know, too?” 

“Are you sure you’re up for that? We might just need to sleep some…” 

“Is it that bad? Or do you just think it’s not that important compared to…” 

“It’s not that bad. It’s just there’s no rush…” he sips his own tea. “Mine is more about stuff I don’t like. Not much of it’s trauma. Just...things I’ve learned make me uncomfortable or turn me off.” 

“Oh.” Shiro shifts a little, searching for a joke of some kind. “You mean I didn’t have to go through any of that, I could have just told you I’d rather top?” he forces an awkward chuckle. 

“No, I don’t think that’s what I mean… some of it’s… not just preference.”  Realizing Takashi is looking for something to ease some of the sting, he breathes out a sigh. “I … don’t love when people put my hands in their mouths because sometimes I panic and forget why they’re wet and that I’m feeling teeth and not rocks. It’s not often, but when it happens it’s hard to push through. Not to mention, I uh, with the grafts and all the broken bones, it just doesn’t feel right anymore.” He chuckles weakly. “I read somewhere that it takes the same amount of force to bite off a finger as it does to bite through a carrot. Every time some guy put my fingers in his mouth that’s all I could think of.”  What if they bit down? “It just… with all of it… just lost it’s appeal entirely I guess. I used to like it. Maybe I will again, eventually.” 

Shiro glances at Curtis, then his hands, wrapped around the mug. He nods a little. He doesn’t have any specific interest in those hands. Other than feeling them on his body. His face heats in response to the thoughts, and he feels guilty for having them. 

“I can’t stand people touching my neck. A little kissing down the side is fine, but one guy I slept with just liked to rest his hand there. And it always made me feel like I was suffocating.” He glances away some. Any kind of pressure can trigger that terror in him now. But he hates when people do things like try and choke him in bed. Not that he really feels Takashi would be into that at all. “Then I guess there’s just kind of the normal stuff, but some of it won’t matter with you,” he shrugs. 

“Why not?” Shiro asks, almost indignant. What wouldn’t matter with him? 

Laughing a little, he can’t help it. “There’s some weird things guys do when they give blowjobs, and since you don’t feel comfortable doing that right now, or ever, it won’t be an issue for us, that’s all. And if I find out it’s something you like, then I’ll tell you what it is so you never try it on me if you feel up to trying.” 

Cheeks red, Shiro nods a little. “Fair enough,” he admits, embarrassed. The idea of Curtis between his legs makes his face burn and he hates himself a little for being able to think like that after what they’d just talked about. But the whole point of this talk was to be comfortable doing things together. 

“So, in the shower, you got really jumpy… and I get why, but is that an area you’d rather I didn’t touch?” Curtis pushes softly. “Usually I do a lot when I’m down there, but I don’t want to make you uncomfortable….” he trails off, finally noticing how red Takashi is. “We can put this conversation off for later, if you need to,” he says. For all he thinks the other man just wants to get it over with all at once. Not that he blames him. None of this has been fun. 

“I’m.I’m scared I’ll tear open,” Shiro admits, looking down and away. It might not be rational. It’s just how he feels. “I used to switch with Adam,” he admits, knowing Curt won’t mind him bringing up his ex. “We didn’t take turns necessarily we just… it just worked out however it worked out, I guess. I don’t know if we put any thought into it,” his eyes well with tears. “But I’m so scared if you… even a finger… I’m scared I’ll go back to that place and I’ll relive it all over again. Or… or that the scar tissue won’t hold,” his throat squeezes and he takes a drink of tea to hide that he can’t talk anymore. 

“Okay,” Curtis says calmly. “Okay. Nothing inside, I can do that.” He raises an eyebrow slightly, testing the waters. “Or not do that, actually. I can not do that,” he teases weakly. 

“You won’t hate me? For not being able to… ‘give back’ or keep it even?” 

“You really have only dated one other guy, huh?” Curtis cups his cheek and smooths away a tear with his thumb. “Some guys only top, or only bottom or have very strict rules and preferences. All you’re asking me to do is not do something that might hurt you. I think I can manage that. That doesn’t upset me at all.” He knows it’s not exactly like Takashi can be part of a community or learn much about some of the culture out by the Garrison when he’s spent most of his time in space away from humans. But sometimes he forgets that the other man grew up with a family who did not accept him as he was. Not that it had been fun for Curtis to get caught ‘learning’ about the gay community. Or as his mother would call it ‘watching porn.’ Thankfully his education also came from other sources. 

“I won’t put a hand on your neck. Or mess with your hands,” Takashi says seriously. Finishing his tea, he sets the mug down on the table. Leaning into Curtis’ chest, he heaves an exhausted sigh. “I feel disgusting,” he complains. 

“Mm?” 

“Tears and snot… I feel like I need to shower again.” 

“Well it has been since yesterday,” Curt drawls slowly. “I usually feel like I have to shower at work, and most of what I do involves sitting down and not working up a sweat.” 

“We could save time….” he tests the waters. He’s not sure he wants to do anything, but he wants to feel close to the other man. 

“You looking for an encore of yesterday’s performance?” Curtis teases gently. 

“I don’t know yet,” he admits. “But uh, if I was… I don’t think I’d want to see the exact same show over again.” He blushes and looks at Curtis. 

“Well, if you decide you’re interested, I suppose something could be arranged. I have an in with the guy from yesterday, so I can at least ask.” He smooths Takashi’s hair back from his forehead gently. Then kisses him. “You don’t have to prove anything to me, just so we’re clear.” 

“I know.” He glances at Curtis oddly and realizes it’s true. He doesn’t feel like he has to prove anything to the other man. There’s no record to break, no point to be made, no fight to win. Overcome by the idea he just sits there for a few seconds, stunned. 

[randomfandomimagine]

Contest entry :)

Thanks to @welcome-here-in-my-world for submitting something for the contest! It’s amazing that you took the time to write this! I’m not the biggest fan of Keith, but this is well written and I love the fact that the character is non-binary. Also that you got other characters involved and how the story progresses :)

Title: Pretty Enough

Fandom: Stranger Things

Time of events: 29th-31st of October 1984/first two episodes of season 2

Romantic ship: Keith the Arcade Guy x Alex Henderson (OC)

Categories: Henderson!sibling, non-binary!character, friends to lovers, strangers to friends

Word count: 5400

A/N: I genuinely wanted to make this fanfiction shorter, but the idea for it was growing in me for quite some time before with more and more tropes adding and I just couldn’t stop! There are some themes I technically could just omit, but they helped me get to the main point of the story and I feel it would a bit incomplete without them. I’m also still afraid that I got something wrong by alluding only to the fandom, not any fanfiction of yours. At first I meant to use your OC, Allison Henderson, since we’re both playing with the idea of Dustin having an older sister, but I feel like – aside from ships being different for our OCs – my idea for Alex is still quite different from yours for Allison and it was easier to fit her into my story. Trying to put someone’s ideas into the frame of my plans could be done, but also it would probably make my writing less enjoyable for me, and at some point this enjoyment became what I decided to seek primarily. In the end I didn’t fail to have fun while writing this and I hope that it won’t be too bad to read this as well. :)

People say that home is where your loved ones are, but Hawkins never really felt like home to me. I love my family and I could do anything for my mother and brother. I bonded with them even more after Mr. Henderson left us – I am only four years older, but I always felt responsible for little Dustin, trying to take over our father’s place, with a lot of help from our loving mother. Despite that, I didn’t grow roots in our house and I really wouldn’t mind if we lived anywhere else. The fact that I don’t have too many special people besides family doesn’t help. Dustin managed to find a group of good friends and I used to think I could do the same – well, I used to be wrong. I had a few attempts, but I never made any friends at school. I failed even at befriending Nancy Wheeler, my classmate and sister of my brother’s friend Mike. All the connections we have didn’t make her willing to hang out with me.

After Will Byers, Dustin’s friend, and then Barbara Holland, a friend of Nancy, disappeared last year, things changed for even worse. I didn’t take part in the events, but thanks to Dustin’s stories he once shared with me (involving creatures from another dimension and a girl named after a number – strange as it all seemed, I had no reason not to believe him) I have an idea about what happened at that time and I see its obvious effect on his group and on the entire town. Will’s revival and no return of Barb made people afraid and suspicious, relationships – tense. I was never comfortable with walking the streets of Hawkins, but the fall of 1983 made them even more unfriendly.

My only friendly, safe place is the arcade, where I’ve been working since I turned 15 two years ago. For a few previous years I’d been spending most of my afternoons there, and I took the chance to make a little money from something I would be doing anyway. Apart from being a place to escape, working at the arcade provided me with one more thing – having that one person by my side who’s not family but seems to get me and makes me feel okay. It’s my co-worker, Keith.

I see how for him it tends to be hard to get into relationships with people for him. He’s whole two years older than me and sometimes it can already be a huge obstacle, maybe it should be for people like us. But when we are together, it’s actually different. It might be our work that brought us together, but it was only a catalyst for something I like to call a friendship – or is it a good start for more? We talk and laugh a lot, and I feel that with me he’s not as arrogant as he can be with others, he rarely teases me about things. He’s just… normal, which makes me feel like I’m normal as well.

Two days before Halloween of 1984 we both work an afternoon shift. We are at the counter, leaning towards it, sharing a bag of Cheetos. We’ve spend half an hour watching a girl playing Dig Dug – neither of us likes the game, but it’s weirdly pleasing to watch others play.

“Do you know her?” Keith finally asks.

“Nope,” I answer. “You?”

“Me neither. But she seems around your brother’s age, they could go to school together. You might’ve heard about her from him.”

“Bold of you to assume I know about all of my brother’s schoolmates,” I respond mockingly. “We talk about it sometimes, but I don’t think he’s ever mentioned her. She may be new to town.”

“Who on Earth would pick Hawkins to be their new place?”

“Freaks, I guess. The area’s full of ‘em.”

“True… Maybe you could ask Dustin anyway? He still might know something.”

“He’s gonna be here today, you can ask him yourself if you really want. I don’t care that much.”

We watch the girl as she finishes playing and leaves. Out of curiosity, I go to the Dig Dug station and check the results board.

“Holy shit! She’s good!” I exclaim as I go back to the counter. “She’s beaten my brother’s score!”

“Wow,” Keith comments shortly. “Wanna take a chance to torment him? Honestly, I wouldn’t mind having to mention he’s not the best anymore.”

“I’ll pass this time. The floor is yours,” I say when we see Dustin with his party enter the arcade.

I don’t really care about my relationships with Dustin’s friends, but it flatters me that I earned a little of their respect by working at the arcade. All four of them nod their heads and smile when they see me. Keith and I allow them to go and play; we wait with approaching until they lose the game. We stand beside them soon enough to hear my brother say:

“Well, there are still other games I’m top at, like Dig Dug.”

“Are you sure about that?” says Keith, startling them.

“Sure about… what?”

They run towards other stations and, a little panicked, comment upon Dustin’s defeat.

“Who’s MadMax?” Dustin asks us.

“Better than you,” Keith mocks.

“Ugh! Is that one of you?”

“You know we despise Dig Dug,” I note.

“Just tell us, you two!” demands Lucas.

Keith looks at me, raising his eyebrows.

“Please, don’t stare like that. You know I don’t go too far with them,” I say quietly. “Handle it on your own.”

“I can tell you,” he turns to the kids and lays his eyes on Mike, “but I need something in return”.

I feel the sting of jealousy before he’s done talking. Of course he’s thinking about Nancy.

“You’re not getting a date with my sister!” Mike says loudly, also knowing what Keith means. “I’m not prostituting her!”

“Oh, come on! Just get him the date, only one! Don’t you want to know who got better than us?” Lucas teases him.

I’m getting done with their conversation, so I turn around and leave. I’m doing it at a good moment, as there’s a boy waiting at the counter. I put a fake smile on, ready to answer his questions. Keith joins me a few moments later.

“Well, now we know they don’t know her, guess they would’ve recognized the nickname. But why did you step aside? I weren’t done with them, I thought you wanted to listen.”

“I didn’t want to listen to you argue with Wheeler about his sister. It’s getting weird.”

“What’s weird about that? I’m just trying to get a date.”

“Okay, but why Nancy? Everybody is so obsessed with her, even my brother, and now you. She is a basic bitch, definitely not worth your time.”

I’m aware that I’m getting bitchy myself, since I don’t know Nancy too well and she probably isn’t that bad once you’re close to her, but when I talk to Keith knowing he thinks of her, I can’t stop.

“But she’s pretty,” he says with no hesitation. “And she looks nice in a dress.”

I try to swallow the clump of sadness growing in my throat. I should’ve known better that he would pay more attention to people like her when it comes to romantic interests. Having this thought in my head that the joke’s on me, I still can’t help jumping into an argument.“That’s what you care about? Pretty faces and pretty dresses?” I say with shaking voice.

“Yes, I think so.”

“But you have never even talked to her! You don’t know if you’d get along with her!”

“She’s pretty enough for me to take a risk,” he repeated.

It takes all my strength not to scream or punch him.

“You know what? I always thought you were worth something, but now I think I see you are like everyone else. And I need to go.”

Not waiting for his reaction, I grab my bag and step outside the arcade. The delayed sound of closing doors tells me someone’s following me. As I turn around, I say:

“I told you I don’t want to…”

I stop when I realise it’s not Keith, as I assumed, but my brother who left the arcade after me.

“Oh. That’s you…”

“Yes, that’s me.What happened? Keith pisses you off too?”

“As you can see, he does sometimes.”

“What’s that thing you don’t want to do?”

I respond with a short sigh. I can’t tell him it’s hearing about Nancy, I know he likes her quite much. He’s still my brother, I don’t want to hurt his feelings. It’s different than with Keith.

“Nevermind. It’s between me and him.”

“Okay. Don’t say if you don’t want to. But can you at least tell me who MadMax is?”

I smile at him as I decide to spill the tea.

“It’s a red-haired girl, probably around your age. I assume she’s new in the area, today’s the first time I saw her here.”

“Yeah, I also don’t think I know someone like that… But fair enough! Thanks! I’ll stay here a bit longer, so… see you at home?”

“Sure. See ya.”

Once he turns around and enters the building, I’m on my own. I can finally put my mask down. I let my smile fade away and first tears go down my cheeks.

I don’t manage to put myself together before reaching home and mother doesn’t fail to notice my state. It’s not exactly the first time when I come back sad from work, but for a first time I’ve been crying on my way back, which makes her approach me and ask:

“Hey, what happened, sweetie? Did somebody hurt you?”

Saying nothing, I burst into tears again and hug her. She hugs me back and then gently sits me on the couch, holding my hand.

“Alex, what is that?” she repeats. “You know you can tell me anything.”

“Mom, am I not pretty?” I whisper.

“How can you say that! Of course you are! Who made you think you’re not?”

“There’s this guy at the arcade that I work with… I really like him and sometimes I wish it was something more. But he only cares about that other girl. Today he said he could give her a chance just because she’s pretty. Why wouldn’t he give this chance to me, mom? Am I not pretty enough?”

“Oh, dear… Okay, let’s start with this. Do you think he at least likes you back?”

“I think so. We talk a lot and I feel he’s friendly to me.”

“That’s a good start! So, maybe you should tell him exactly how you feel? Or ask another friend for advice? I’m sure some girls at school will know how to deal with this.”

Right, ‘cause my mum assumes I have someone to talk to at school, even though she tries to keep up with my life and should know it’s not true. But… accidentally, she gave me an excellent idea.

Next day I’m not working and I don’t have to stand Keith’s presence, so I decide not to rush things. I wait until Halloween. That’s when in the school corridor I approach Nancy Wheeler.

“Hi, Nancy! How you doin’?”, I say.

“Hey… could be better, I guess”, she answers politely. “What do you want?”

“Um… advice. I want advice.”

“From me?”. She seems surprised.

“Yes. You know, there’s this thing…”

I stop when she starts staring over my shoulder. I turn my head and see Steve Harrington, her boyfriend, walking down the corridor.

“I don’t know what it is about, but I guess I can at least listen. Only not now. Meet me at 2 p.m. in the parking lot, okay?”

“Okay. I’ll be there.”

Nancy nods and approaches Steve, leaving me alone by the lockers. I meet her again a few hours later, when – as we promised – we both appear in the parking lot.

“So, what is my advice supposed to be about?” she asks with no further introduction.

“About relationships,” I explain a little shakingly, suddenly feeling how embarrassment takes over me. “There’s one guy I want to pick up but I have no idea how, and I know you’re good with boys”.

Nancy scoffs, turning her head away.

“I’m not good with boys. If you mean Steve, it’s him who talked to me first and that’s what started things. Also, it’s not going that well anymore…”

“Yeah, I see, but you had to catch his attention in the first place. You’ve got charm, people notice you. There’s a lot of them talking or thinking about you, I know that. I don’t have this and it sucks.”

“Okay, okay. I get it,” she says with a sigh. “I’ll try to help you. Let’s go to my place. I’m going to the Halloween party later, I’ll be getting ready as we talk.”

We soon reach Wheelers’ house and – after saying hello to Mrs. Wheeler – go straight to Nancy’s room. She starts to go through clothes in her wardrobe as she asks:

“You said you have trouble picking the guy up. What’s exactly the problem?”

“He doesn’t seem to notice me. I mean, we know each other, guess I can say we’re friends, but I want it to be more and I’m not sure how to get to that, especially that he likes someone else.”

“Okay… Do you by any chance know what he values in relationships?”

I manage to utter that one and only word:

“Pretty.”

“What?”

“He wants his girlfriend to be pretty.”

“Oh, I see your issue then. You wear those ugly clothes, military trousers and oversized hoodies. You’re hiding your pretty side, that’s why he doesn’t see you like that. You need to become more feminine, it’ll make things easier for you both.”

“Yeah, but… I don’t think I could become more feminine.”

“Why not? You’re a girl, right? It should be easy. You can wear all those nice sweaters and jeans, maybe a little make-up could help, or some jewelry?”

I sigh deeply. She touched upon things that make me extremely uncomfortable, that’s why no one, not even my family, knows about my feelings towards them. But if I really want her to help me…

“Nancy… can I be honest with you? Totally honest?”

She sits beside me on the bed and reaches for my hand, saying softly but with confidence:

“Yes. You can.”

“I know it’s sound weird, but… I don’t feel like I’m a girl. I mean, not always. Sometimes it feels okay so I accept it and I even think about becoming more girly, but at other times I wish I was a guy so some things would be easier. And finally sometimes I just wish for it all to fade away so I wouldn’t have to care about what’s girly and what’s boyish… I hang somewhere in-between and try not to care. All those clothes I wear, neutral short name that I use… this image makes things easier at times where I don’t feel like a girl. No one questions it anymore and I feel comfortable. But… I don’t know if it even makes sense.”

“Well… it sure sounds confusing, but I can see your point. Being a girl is tough, I can feel that, even if it seems to be easy for me. I never wanted to abandon my womanhood, but it makes sense that you’re different from me and you wander to different places with those things.”

Her words bring me a relief. I tighten my fingers on her palm.

“Thanks, Nancy. I appreciate it.”

“It’s okay. Now I’m thinking… maybe you went so far into this not-feeling-like-a-girl thing that this guy doesn’t percieve you as one anymore? He might think you’re his mate or even see you more as a boy in a way. You work at the arcade, and those clothes again… It’s rare to find girls like that.”

“Yeah, this sounds logical… but if I don’t want to break with that image, how do I let him know I have feelings for him?”

“Just tell him the same things you told me.”

She’s not the first person to advise me talking to Keith openly, but I still can’t imagine that.

“If it only was so easy…” I sigh.

“Okay! Who is he?” Nancy asks, surprisingly elevated.

“Who?”

“This guy you’re so madly in love with! Who’s he?” she repeats, standing up.

“You know Keith, right? He works with me at the arcade, that’s where we met.”

She stares at me blankly for a moment.

“Sorry, but I don’t think I know him. Mike mentions the place sometimes and I could’ve seen him somewhere, but you know… no details to appear in my head.”

“How come?” I ask, also standing up. “He keeps asking your brother to set him on a date with you. Mike never told you that?”

“No… and you can’t be serious…”. I shrug my shoulders, saying nothing. “Oh, you’re serious?”. I nod my head in response. “So when you said he likes another girl, you meant me? And he wants his girlfriend to be pretty like me?”

“Something like that.”

“Well… it changes a lot. But I think this makes it easier for me to help you.”

“Wait, so you still want to help me? I mean, you just learned I came to you to talk about a guy that I want to pick up while he has feelings for you. Isn’t it weird?”

“I don’t think so… Maybe a little.”

“I also told him you’re a basic bitch in hope that he changes his mind about you,” I decide to tell her for some reason.

“Okay… that’s rude, I admit.”

“I wasn’t thinking. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” she calms me with a sigh. “I guess you were right in a sense. I was a bitch, for you. I remember you wanted to be friends with me once but I refused. I shouldn’t have. Now I see you’re a nice person… Why wouldn’t you be? You’re a Henderson, and I actually like your brother. And… even if it’s hard, I’m enjoying this talk.”

“Thanks… It feels good talking to you too. You’re fine when you don’t tell people to get lost.”

We get interrupted with the sound of the front door opening and closing, followed by Mike’s voice. Nancy gives me a sly smile and says:

“You know what? Screw that party. Steve has been making me sick lately, I suppose there are better ways to spend this day than partying with him. Come on!”

We quit her room and run down the stairs fast enough to catch Mike in the corridor, just before he steps on the stairs leading to the basement.

“Brother! Nice to see you!” Nancy exclaims. “Isn’t there anything you want to tell me?”

He looks at me and I know he realized that Nancy knows.

“You told her about Keith?” he asks anyway.

“I wouldn’t have to if you did.”

“Yeah, why didn’t you tell me someone was trying to get a date with me? Together we would handle it somehow,” adds Nancy.

Mike stutters for a moment before he manages to say:

“Because I didn’t want this to slip out of hand. Keith can get weird, but I kind of like him, I thought it would ruin things if I got you involved. Besides… I made a promise to Dustin.”

“Wait… what does Dustin have to do with it?” I ask, surprised.

“Don’t act like you don’t know! Everybody sees you have feelings for Keith. Those puppy eyes you make for him and how he made you mad and sad two days ago… Even MadMax noticed there could be something going on.”

“MadMax? So you know her after all?”

“She joined our class yesterday. But it doesn’t matter now. What matters is, Dustin really wants you to be happy, and if it means bringing you together with Keith, he’s fine with that, we both are. He once had this idea that if I keep on denying Keith’s requests so that he stays away from Nance, he might get bored and ask you about that date. It made sense to me, so I agreed.”

“But what about the rest of the group? Those two days ago Lucas encouraged you to get Keith the date. Doesn’t he know about the deal?”

“He and Will found out yesterday, when we talked to Max and she realised Dustin’s your brother. She asked outright if there’s something between you and Keith, so we explained everything. Earlier it stayed between me and Dustin, because it’s about you two, meaning our sisters.”

“You know what? I think it’s actually kind of sweet,” says Nancy as we exchange looks. “Dustin must really care about you.”

“Yeah, he’s a good brother…”, Mike agrees, strangely sad.

“Hey, you’re also a good brother! And a very good friend,” she ensures him, realising how her words sounded, and pats him on the shoulder. “Keeping me away, it makes sense to me too. You wanted things to work out well for everyone, that’s nice.”

“Thanks, sister. So… what’s the plan now?”

“I believe you have one so I’d like to know too,” I support his question.

“My plan is to go to the arcade with you, Alex, and confront Keith. My staying away doesn’t sound bad, but I think the case here is about what he imagines he could get from me. I’ll let him know he won’t get it and open his eyes to what he already got.”

“Sounds good! Let’s go!” I say cheerfully, even though deep down I’m actually terrified.

“Can I come with you?” asks Mike. “I could call out Dustin too.”

“But don’t you have some trick-or-treating to do with your party?” Nancy asks back. “I don’t know how long it’s gonna take us, and I don’t want you all to change or cancel your plans. Have fun!”

We remain silent most of our way to the arcade. The more we’re getting close, the more I’m nervous. Of course I want Keith to know about my feelings, but I have no idea how he’s going to react, and that’s why I never told him – I’d rather be just friends with him for the rest of my life than lose him because I wanted too much. When we’re almost there, I ask:

“Are you sure we’re doing the right thing? It all means too much, I think I’m gonna kill myself if something goes wrong.”

“Don’t worry, I got it under control. But if something goes wrong, remember it’s not the end of the world. I lost a friend last year, now I’m slowly losing my boyfriend, and I’m not killing myself.”

“I’m sorry… Sometimes I forget how much Barb’s case must hurt you. And it was that time of year, right?”

“Yes, it was November. But hopefully I’ll soon be able to move on… and survive. Because there’s more to this life, you know? I have my family to love, I admire Mike’s friends, and look how we are growing closer! I wouldn’t be able to abandon all this, just like you shouldn’t even think of leaving behind your mom and brother because of one boy who doesn’t love you back. They sure want you to stay, even if everyone else rejects you.”

“I guess you’re right…” I admit quietly as we reach the arcade. “Well, we’re here.”

“Yeah. So, how about I go in on my own and talk to him and then you join? You can give me about five minutes, I think it should be enough for me to explain what I need to explain.”

“Okay.” Before she steps in, I add: “Nancy… thanks for doing it for me.”

“No problem. Hendersons and Wheelers should stick together, don’t you think?”

I smile as she disappears inside. Having nothing better to do, I start counting. When I reach 300, I know about five minutes have passed, so I enter the arcade. Nancy and Keith stand together at the counter. It seems like they’re already waiting for me. When I join them, Nancy says:

“I think you should talk in private. I’ll try and take care of things here.”

I thank her once again and I go with Keith into the storage room where only the employers can go. It’s quiet there so we sit and chill there sometimes, although I can’t exactly recall the last time I stayed there for a longer while. When we are on our own behind closed doors after spending a moment in crowded and loud arcade, the silence is deafening.

“Now I know what you meant about me and Nancy not getting along,” he speaks first. “Talking to her felt weird.”

“Maybe it’s about your talk’s theme?” I suggest. “I don’t think it could be not akward.”

“No, it was more of a general feeling. But you’re right, the theme also was odd. I don’t get how you couldn’t just tell me I’m special to you not only as a friend.”

“I didn’t want to ruin what’s already between us. And I knew you wanted her. I thought that it would look funny if I tried to look like a competition.”

“I agree that you can’t really compare yourself to Nancy because it looks weird…”

“So I’m weird when I’m compared to her? Thanks!” I say angrily.

“Alex, please… Don’t do this to me now,” he begs, laying his hands on my arms. “Calm down. I don’t want to argue, not this time. I didn’t mean that you are weird, although I probably should remind you it’s you who said that Hawkins is full of freaks. I wanted to say that the comparison is weird because you’re completely different from her.”

“And that’s what I meant,” I say, trying to be calm. “You want her pretty face and her pretty dresses. I can’t give it to you. Because… there’s much more than that.”

“Nancy mentioned as well it’s not exactly just about those things. Could you please explain to me… how you are? How you work? I’m sorry, I can’t put it into words.”

“It’s okay.”

I explain the way I am in the same words I used when talking to Nancy. It makes him prove her assumptions true as he says:

“Now it makes sense why I never realised you have feelings for me, even when you tried to get Nancy out of my head. It’s so easy talking to you about everything, and you have this presentation… I kind of forgot you are a girl in the essence.”

“And in the essence, I will always be one,” I add. “It’s not something I desperately want to change. My state of mind shifts and I’m not too girly, but I’m still the opposite of you and I’m the same as Nancy. That’s why I’m Dustin’s sister, not brother, and it won’t change. Basing on all this and on the fact we get along well, I want you… I need you to see me as someone you could love. Even though I will never be a girlfriend in a full sense and I can’t give you what Nancy would.”

“Because you don’t wear dresses and your face is not the same as hers. But when I look at you now… guess it’s pretty enough.”

He hugs me tightly. It happens so suddenly I can’t help a quick shudder, but also standing there – with his arms around me and my cheek against his chest, not saying anything, after he admitted I’m pretty enough – feels so good that I want to make it last forever. After a moment I raise my head. We look each other in the eye and when I feel like our faces are getting closer and our lips are going to meet… we hear knocking at the door.

“Sorry to interupt, but there are some technical issues and I think you’re needed!” shouts Nancy.

I’m dissapointed that nothing happened in the end, but we can’t avoid our duties. We leave the room and see a man waiting at the counter.

“One of the machines broke,” he informs us.

Keith apologizes to Nancy and me and follows the man. Once they are out of my sight, six other people appear at the counter: it’s Dustin, Mike, Lucas and Will, accompanied by Will’s brother, Jonathan (one more thing I keep forgetting: his loving family cares about that boy at least twice as much since his dissapearance, that’s why he’s almost never alone) and a girl I’ve once seen, MadMax. Although she’s the only one in this weird collection I don’t really know (compared to her, even Jonathan feels like someone close), she’s the first one to immediately ask:

“Did you kiss him already? It could prove to him that you love him.”

“Whoa, hold up!” I say. “We don’t exactly know each other and you’re asking me about kisses? First of all, I’m Alex.”

“Max Mayfield,” she oficially introduces herself, shaking my hand. “When I saw you and him here two days ago, I was sure you were already a couple. And then I learned it’s never been like that. So, are you getting together or is it just some kind of weird game?”

“I think we’re finally getting together,” I admit. “But… how did you all even know? I mean, that something’s going on here right now.”

“I told them about everything,” Mike confesses. “Sorry…”

“Don’t be, it’s fine.”. Nancy smiles at him.

“No, it’s NOT fine!” exclaims Dustin. “You should’ve told me! You have no idea for how long I was your support. And now I don’t get to know something’s finally happening? I don’t get it!”

“What I don’t get is why you just don’t kiss him already,” Max interrupts him. “Do things really have to be so hard?”

“You know what? You’re right. It doesn’t have to be so hard.”

I notice Keith’s coming back; I step from behind the counter and approach him. As we meet halfway through, I climb to my toes, put my hands on his neck and kiss his lips. I can taste Cheetos he must’ve been eating before I came, but it’s good, it’s really good. And it’s good when he kisses me back, and it’s good when I hear the outburst of happiness behind my back.

Fall of 1983 changed a lot, but Halloween of 1984 starts the season that changes even more. Last year it was Nancy hanging out with Steve or Barb – now it’s Nancy with Jonathan and me. After welcoming Max Dustin’s party grows from four to five people, or from five to six, since Mike can’t forget this girl they crossed paths with a year before and believes she would fit with them. Another dimension – now I remember they call it the Upside Down – also doesn’t let anyone forget and forces people to fight itself, as the effect making citizens of Hawkins come closer together – well, at least some of them. Although it does a lot of harm, everything I go through with them helps me start calling some people “friends”… which finally makes Hawkins feel like home.

In all of this, one thing never changes. The arcade is still that friendly, safe place with that one person who understands me the best and always makes me feel better. It’s my boyfriend, Keith.

[ohahahahaha]

If you could write one about lance figuring out what everyone looks like through red’s eyes (everyone as in team Voltron and his family) I would cry 😭 thank you cult leader 😩😩😩

Of course! I hope you like it!

~~~~~

Lance didn’t like trading Lions. Not in the slightest. This warped game of musical chairs threw off his entire being. He had connected with Blue in such a way, it’s like he could see. Sure the world was still a dark, shadowy blur around him, but while piloting Blue, it was different. It was like they were one entity. He didn’t have to see to know what button to push, or what direction to fly in, or where to fire Blue’s ice. It was the closest thing to sight Lance had, so having to suddenly surrender that? Yeah, to say he was unhappy was an understatement. 

Not only was he unhappy, he was nervous. How would be able to fly Red? He knew his bond with Red wouldn’t be nearly as strong as Blue’s. They wouldn’t be able to connect as one. He would be totally blind, and that scared him. He already knew that his blindness was a hindrance to the team, but now it was a major inconvenience. At least he could fly Blue without his sight. Now what was he going to do?

“Paladins, please enter your hangars! It is time you worked on forming a bond with your new Lions!” Allura’s voice rang throughout the castle, cutting through Lance’s thoughts.

 Lance sighed as he tugged on his armor and helmet, begrudgingly made his way toward the Red Lion.

Lets get this over with.

Lance slowly made his way into Red, feeling his way towards the pilot’s seat. He finally sat down and took off his gloves. He let his hands roam the control panel and buttons as Red hummed around him. They felt exactly like Blue’s, but it brought little comfort to his buzzing nerves. They felt completely foreign to him.

Lance intaked a shuddering breath. “Red, I know I’m not your Paladin as you know you’re not my Lion.” He gripped the sides of the seat, his fingers digging into the cushion. “But please, help me to pilot you. You don’t have to do some crazy tricks or fly super fast. Just…don’t let be get in the way. I want to be useful. I don’t want my blindness get in the way of everyone else. Just help me. Please?”

Lance shut his eyes tightly in anticipation, waiting for Red to do something. The Red Lion went silent for a few minutes, before finally humming around him, as if Lance hadn’t just spilled his heart out. Lance sighed in defeat and reached out his hands for the controls.

“Guess that’s asking too much.”

Lance opened his eyes and was immediately blinded by a bright light. Lance instinctively shut his eyes again.

What the quiznak was that? That light was way too-

Lance froze as realization sunk in. He saw a light. He could see a light.

He released a shaky exhale and slowly opened his eyes, allowing him to adjust to this new vision. When his eyes fully adjusted, he realized that they weren’t his eyes. They were Red’s. He was seeing through Red’s eyes.

Lance looked in awe around him, looking at colors and shapes he had never seen before. He was overwhelmed by the new information, his brain trying to process it all.

“Red…this is- you- how did-”

“Lance, buddy! How’s the bonding with Red going? You’ve been in there for a while!”

Lance quickly followed his gaze in the direction of the voice, finally spotting a large man with a wide smile and bandana in his hair.

“Hunk…?” Lance breathed, tears springing in his eyes.

Hunk arched an eyebrow (that Lance could actually see). “Uh yes? Did you forget what I sounded like? You okay up there?”

Another figure joined Hunk, drastically smaller with glasses nearly covering their entire face.

“It’s Lance, Hunk. He probably fell asleep or something. He always did during class back at the Garrison.”

“Holy quiznak. Pidge, you are a gremlin!!” Lance exclaimed, laughing maniacally.

Hunk and Pidge shared a worried glance before turning back toward the Red Lion.

“Uh, Lance.” Hunk started, sending quick glances toward Pidge and Red. “Pidge and I are just going to head back and fix dinner. You can come…whenever you’re feeling better.”

Lance watched as the duo ran from the Lion, looking over their shoulders every so often.

Lance laughs settled into to small chuckles before he finally calmed down and sat in stunned silence. He startled when he heard a gentle voice in his ear.

I may not be able to bond with you as your Lion has, but I am able to give you something you never had. Hopefully you will accept my sight as an offering to a new bond.

The blue paladin shook his head, still trying to grasp this new reality.

“Red, you gave me sight. How could I not try to bond with you?” Lance asked incredulously. “I finally got to see my friends, see what they look like. Could you show my what the others look like?”

Lance waited in anticipation as Red went silent again. When Red began to hum around him again, visions began to form in his head.

One after one, Red showed him his fellow teammates, bemused by Lance’s remarks about them all, from Allura’s white hair to Coran’s bushy moustache. When Red finally showed him Keith, Lance suddenly fell silent.

“…that’s Keith?” Lance could feel his neck and the tip of his ears warm as he took in violet eyes and raven hair. He felt the Red Lion almost chuckling at him.

I have noticed your interest in my Paladin. Before, I suspected you wished to be comrades, but I now see my first suspicions were incorrect. You wish to be companions.

Lance choked on air, coughing and trying to hide his embarrassment from the Lion.

“It was bad enough before, but now that I know he’s fucking hot as hell, I think I might combust!” Lance could practically feel Red shaking from laughter. “It’s not funny, I’m going to die!”

This would be unfortunate if my Paladin didn’t share the same emotions for you. He is quite the passionate one.

Lance froze at the words, while his body felt like it was lit on fire. “You mean he…”

Why don’t you discover the answers yourself. That is half the journey, paladin.

Lance groaned, slumping back into the seat. “You’re no fun, Red. For being able to breath fire, you’re really cold.”

If I were as cold as you say I am, I wouldn’t show you your family, now would I?

“Y-you can show me my-” Lance felt tears well up in his eyes again, throat closing with emotion.

Would you like to see them?

“Please.”

[my-one-love-is-music]

Be My Player 2? Ch. 38

Also on AO3!

~~~~~~~~

Keith yawned and ran a hand through his hair, trying to wake himself up after the long day of classes he was back to. He was already missing the mornings he got to spend sleeping in over spring break and knew that the next week was going to be hell as he fought to get back on schedule.

He tugged uncomfortably at the collar of his jacket as he pulled open the backdoor of the restaurant. The weather was warm enough that wearing his usual jacket was becoming stuffy. It was almost time to put it away for the year.

“Hey! Look who’s back!”

Keith smiled and waved at the cooks as he passed.

“How was your vacation?” Lee called after him.

“Great! I wish I was still on break,” he said over his shoulder.

Lee’s booming laughter followed him down the hall. “None of us would work if we didn’t have to, kid!”

Keith shook his head and huffed. He paused at the time clock and punched his number into the system, waiting for it to beep before he made his way out into the dining room.

Happy chatter surrounded him as he crossed to the bar, the sounds of the patrons muffling the music that played over the speakers. He spotted George behind the counter, mixing drinks with a grin on his face. He spun and twirled, looking completely at ease despite the list of tickets Keith saw in front of him.

“Have no fear, the cavalry’s here,” Keith called as he swung around the back of the bar and slipped his jacket off. He tossed it into the bin underneath the bar and immediately rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, ready to dig into the pile of orders and help things along for them both.

“Hey! Welcome back, man,” George said, pausing just long enough to throw an arm around his shoulders in a quick side-hug. “You’ve got to tell me all about your vacation.”

Keith swiped the next ticket as George set his drink on an available tray. He scanned the scratched writing and nodded, turning to grab a glass and the three bottles he was going to need.

“I don’t really know what to say. It was kind of amazing.”

“Kind of?” George prompted.

Keith bit his lip, trying to hide his grin. “Okay, it was more than just kind of amazing. It was fantastic.”

George chuckled, intercepting his hand as they both took another ticket. “Sooooo things with the boyfriend are good?”

“More than good. Way more than good.”

George paused his stirring and raised an eyebrow. “Way more than good?” he asked. “Wow. He didn’t propose to you, did he?”

Keith chuckled and shook his head. He grabbed two beers and popped the caps, setting them next to the martini George just finished.

“Not at all. But…”

“But?”

“But I might’ve said yes if he had,” he murmured.

“What?!”

Keith blinked as George scrambled to get a better handle on his shaker, almost dropping it and spilling the drink all over their feet.

George carefully set the shaker on the counter and gripped the edge, taking a steadying breath. He raised his gaze and met Keith’s eyes.

“Did you seriously just admit to me that you would marry Shiro if he asked you to?” George said carefully.

Keith felt his face heat up and crossed his arms. He cleared his throat and shifted from foot to foot. “I guess I did.”

George’s disbelief faded and he grinned, chuckles slowly working their way up his throat until he was clutching his stomach and nearly doubled over laughing.

“Oh my god, that’s incredible,” he said, wiping away a nonexistent tear. He fought to catch his breath, keeping one hand on the counter next to him. “But seriously man, I’m really happy for you. You deserve to have someone like Shiro in your life. Especially when the two of you are so happy together.”

Keith smiled, shoulders relaxing where they’d hunched in the face of George’s laughter. “Thanks. I’ve kind of…never mind, it’s stupid.”

“No, come on. You can tell me, man. I swear it’ll stay between us,” he said, grabbing the shaker and finally shaking it above his shoulder.

“Well, I…I’ve been thinking about doing job applications for companies down in Florida. I figured that if I can get a job down there, I can move south and be closer to Shiro.”

George raised an eyebrow. “You’ve only been thinking about it?” he asked.

Keith huffed. “Okay, so maybe I haven’t just been thinking about it. I’ve been doing some applications. Pidge and Hunk have actually been helping me out.”

George nodded and pulled the top off the shaker. He poured the drink in the waiting glass and set it on one of the trays with the ticket.

“I’m happy for you, man. I’m really happy for you.”

“Thanks,” Keith whispered, swiping one of the last tickets from the pile.

“And I know you’re going to make it. I know you can get a job down there and be close to your boyfriend.”

Keith bit his lip and ducked his head, grabbing two beers from the fridge under the counter. He was glad to have so many supportive people in his life, but he didn’t want their encouragement to get the better of him to the point where he got his hopes up too much.

It was possible, but there was no guarantee he’d be able to make the move. He just had to remember that.

~~

Keith glared at his computer screen as he paced back and forth behind his kitchen chair. One half of the screen had half of a research paper he was putting together and the other half had a job application sitting open.

He had deadlines and as much as he hated to admit it, the end of his senior year was hurtling towards him. There was a lot to do and he there was never enough time to finish it all. Not after he was faced with two rejection emails for job applications that day alone, one coming five minutes after he’d submitted his info for review.

His phone vibrated on the table and he glanced at it, seeing Shiro’s name flashing on the screen. He smiled, reaching for it to answer the call.

“Hey,” he murmured, some of his stress already falling away at knowing his boyfriend was on the other end of the call.

“Hey baby,” Shiro said. “I miss you.”

Keith chuckled, laughter soft. He glanced at his computer before moving around the side of his couch to plop down onto the cushions.

“I miss you, too.” He stretched out his legs, propping his feet on the coffee table. “How are classes going?”

Shiro groaned and Keith could almost picture him rolling over to bury his face in his pillow. “Classes suck. I’m tired of doing homework and papers. I’m ready for it to be over.”

��Me too. And don’t even get me started on job applications on top of those,” he huffed.

“Yeah, those are…still a thing.”

“Takashi Shirogane,” Keith swore, leaning forward. “Have you been ignoring job applications?”

Shiro chuckled. “Not ignoring them per say…they’re just really fucking exhausting and I only have so much energy in the day to do homework. Job applications are a whole other monster.”

“Oh believe me, I know,” Keith muttered, thinking about the rejections he’d gotten earlier that day.

“How have they been going for you?”

Keith sighed, his good mood taking a dip. “I got two rejection letters already.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, babe,” Shiro said, sounding just as disappointed as he did. “Was it anything promising?”

Keith’s stomach sank further. The locations of both companies were within a few minutes of Shiro’s house. “Sort of? I think the opportunities would’ve been great. As great as they could be with a first job out of college.”

“I’m sorry. I’m sure they would’ve been good fits for you. I know you’ll be able to find something even better that’ll make you happy.”

Keith bit his lip, thinking about the job application he had sitting open on his computer. “I hope so,” he whispered.

They were both silent for a moment, enjoying the few moments they had together despite the distance between them. Keith closed his eyes, brows furrowing. If he concentrated hard enough, it was almost like he was back on the couch or laying in bed with Shiro, head pillowed on his chest while they cuddled and talked. Maybe a movie was playing in the background they weren’t really paying attention to, sharing kisses in the soft space between them.

“Keith?” Shiro asked.

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

Keith grinned, biting his lip to try and contain the giddy butterflies that swarmed in his stomach every time he heard those words.

“I love you, too.”

~~

Keith scrubbed at his eyes, trying to focus on the clock in the corner of his computer screen. It was after midnight and even though he’d got another quarter of his paper done and submitted a handful of applications, he still couldn’t let himself rest. Not when he only had so much time to try and get a job near Shiro before the school year ended.

He yawned, eyes threatening to fall shut with his need to sleep and get rest before he’d have to get up the next morning and do another whirlwind of classes, homework, bartending, and job applications.

“One more application,” he muttered, fighting to focus on the words his sluggish fingers typed in what he swore were shrinking boxes. “Just one more and then I’ll go to bed.”

He blinked again, taking longer to force them back open to focus on the words in front of him. He was so tired, but he just had to get this done. A few more minutes and then he’d be able to sleep.

~~

Keith groaned when his alarm went off next to his ear. He smacked his hand on the table, fighting to silence the incessant ringing pulling him from the sweet rest he’d gotten during the night.

He forced his eyes open, feeling like a zombie. He blinked at his fridge, trying to figure out why it was in his bedroom.

Keith sighed and forced himself to sit up. He swiped his phone from the table and shut off his alarm. He glanced at the battery and sighed at seeing it under twenty percent. He’d need to get to class early and grab a seat by one of the outlets to charge his phone.

He rolled his shoulders, feeling his neck and back twinge from the awkward sleeping position all night. It was going to take more than one night in his bed to help repair the damage he’d done the night before. It would make standing on his feet at work absolute hell when he went in for his shift.

Keith pressed the spacebar of his computer and waited as it booted up. It was sluggish to start and he sighed when he was met with his still incomplete application he’d been forcing himself to finish. If he was lucky, he could grab a couple minutes between classes to finish it up and submit before moving on to everything else.

He closed the top of his computer and slipped it into his backpack. He grabbed the books for his classes that were in a pile on the kitchen table. He pushed himself from the chair and winced when his back cracked in two different places.

Keith groaned and stretched his arms over his head before shuffling down the hall to his bedroom. He yanked his shirt over his head and shoved his day-old jeans down around his legs, kicking them off to join the edge of his pile of laundry. He tossed his shirt on top and grabbed a new pair of boxers and jeans.

He dressed quickly and grabbed the first shirt in his drawer, pulling it over his head as he walked down the hall and turned into the bathroom. He stared at his reflection, taking in the bags under his eyes and the dullness of his gaze.

He turned on the tap as cold as it would go and cupped his hands under the running water, washing it over his face to help wake himself up. He shivered at the biting temperature and grabbed a towel to wipe off the excess water.

Keith grabbed a thin hair-tie from the sink drawer and pulled his hair back, tying it up in a messy ponytail.

He yawned and scrubbed at his eyes as he padded back to the kitchen. He grabbed a granola bar from the cabinet and tossed it into his backpack with the rest of his things. He grabbed his backpack and shoved his phone in his pocket, barely remembering to snag his charger from the couch.

He shoved his feet into his boots and grabbed his keys, sluggishly locking his apartment behind him. He shuffled down the hall, gripping the straps of his backpack tightly in his hands. It was going to be a long day and he couldn’t wait until he could go back to bed and forget about everything he had to do.

~~

Keith blinked when he heard his phone chime next to him. He pulled himself from his paper and the extra thoughts continually circling around job applications and grabbed his phone where it rested on the arm of his chair.

He’d found a secluded nook in his building, ready to settle down and do some work between classes. An empty coffee cup sat next to his foot, the caffeine kicking in after he’d downed his third refill.

Keith smiled when he saw Shiro’s name on the screen and quickly opened their chat.

Shiro: hey baby. How are things going today?

Keith settled back into his chair, his shoulders relaxing as some of the stress left him thanks to Shiro’s never-ending calming presence.

Keith: Not gonna lie, I’m exhausted. I ended up falling asleep at my kitchen table last night in the middle of doing a job application.

Shiro: ☹ Don’t work yourself so hard. You’ve already got all of your papers and reports for your classes.

Keith sighed, his eyes falling shut for a minute. His fingers hovered over the keys on his phone. He wanted to tell him. He wanted to spill everything that he couldn’t rest and he had to do as many applications as possible because it meant there was a tiny, miniscule possibility that they could be together again in a couple months and he was desperate to take advantage of that chance.

He bit his lip and forced himself to skirt around his thoughts, only giving Shiro the necessary information.

Keith: I know, but I can’t stop. I really want to have a good job lined up once school wraps up. As much as I love bartending and working with George, I don’t want to be doing that forever. I didn’t go to school for a degree just so I could mix drinks for the next year.

Shiro: I know, baby, but taking care of yourself right now is important, too. Promise me that you won’t lose too much sleep trying to get applications in?

Keith: Fineeeee. I promise. I’ll only lose the socially acceptable amount of sleep so I can get job applications in.

Shiro: ☹

Keith smiled, feeling some of the ache from the past few days disappear. It was by no means better since they were still a thousand miles apart. But it was better. Knowing Shiro missed him and was there for him…it was better.

Keith: Don’t pout too long or your face will get stuck like that.

Shiro: Call me when you get home and I won’t have a reason to pout.

Keith: Deal. But I’ll need proof that you’re not pouting.

Shiro: Don’t worry. I think you’ll be able to tell. Considering I’m always smiling when I talk to you.

Keith felt a burst of butterflies in his chest. He was never going to get used to Shiro. And he never wanted to. Shiro was a gift in his life and he was determined to cherish him forever.

Keith: You were just pouting a minute ago.

Shiro: Technicalities!

He huffed a laugh, voice quiet in the nook he was settled in.

Keith: Fine, fine. We can talk about this later. As much as I love talking to you, I need to get a few more things done before my afternoon classes start.

Shiro: Oh yeah. It’s Tuesday, isn’t it? And you have to work tonight?

Keith: Unfortunately I do.

Shiro: Sorry.

Keith: That’s just how it is. I’ll call you when I get home from work.

Shiro: Sounds good. Later, baby. Love you.

Keith: Love you, too.

Keith stared at his screen for a moment, looking at the matching love yous. He sighed and was about to lock his phone when it chimed with a new email. He glanced at his computer screen which still showed the paper he was working on.

He quickly changed apps, knowing it wouldn’t take long for him to check his email before getting back to work.

Keith opened his email and frowned when the first email came from a sender he didn’t recognize. He clicked on it and scrolled down to the body, eyes widening. He read through it once, and then a second and third time to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating.

 Dear Mr. Kogane,

Thank you for reaching out to us with regards to our open research assistant positions. Your academic background is quite impressive and we’d like to have the opportunity to discuss this position with you in more detail and possibly set up a Skype interview with you.

Please respond with your availability if you’re still interested in this position and-

 Keith swallowed, trying to keep his heartrate down. His fingers shook as he tried to calm himself down enough to write a reply. This was too much. All of the planning and job applications and wishing wasn’t enough to prepare him for the possibility of landing an interview for a company in Florida.

He slammed the lid of his computer and threw it into his backpack. He pushed himself out of his chair and barely remembered to unplug his phone from the wall before he was skidding around the corner and sprinting down the hall.

Pidge and Hunk would be getting out of class in the next few minutes. He had to tell them about this.

If you enjoy my work, please reblog or consider buying me a ko-fi!

[eliniei]

Those Hard Days - Chapter 32

Summary: Rae’s brother always made sure she was tough as nails. But when her father flips her world upside down, will she find that there’s a limit on how strong she can be?

Warnings: Rape/Non-con (non-graphic, fade-to-black), child abuse, underage drinking, underage smoking, drug use, violence, major character death

AO3: here Fanfiction.net: here

Masterlist

Previous Chapter |  Next Chapter

Chapter 32 - Ready

“Okay,” Patricia began, flipping open the small file she had brought with her. “Rae Lee Winston. 15 years old. No prior record with the police, although comes from a family of known criminals.” She paused, eyes sliding to Dally for a moment. Rae watched as he ground his teeth together to prevent himself from saying something he’d probably regret. The woman pushed the smallest folder away and opened the next. “Father a known drunk and heroin addict, suspected of physical and sexual abuse against a minor, tax evasion, and public intoxication. Active minor warrants in New York. Known to be noncompliant with officers while intoxicated. Brother, Dallas Tucker Winston. Seventeen years old.” She moved the file over and raised an eyebrow as she looked down at the thick folder. “I don’t really think we need to go into detail, do we?”

“No, ma’am,” Rae said, quietly. 

“Miss Winston, a report has been made against your father with some serious allegations. I think you know about what.” She nodded and started stretching the hair ties at her wrist. Dally stretched his arm out and put a hand on the back of her chair. She knew it was meant to comfort her. “Why don’t you tell me what happened?” Her eyes darted to Barb, who nodded and reached out to put a hand over hers. 

“It’s okay. Just tell the truth.” 

“Take as long as you need.” Rae blinked a few times, trying to clear her thoughts and took a deep breath. She folded her hands together in her lap. 

So she started, the unsaid words- the ultimate secret- spilling out of her mouth. Everything. Her brother removed his hand from the back of his chair and shoved it in the pocket of his coat. He looked away, jaw locked again. His eyes had turned dangerous, rimmed with red. 

When she had finished, she wiped the water streaming from her eyes with her sleeve. Patricia’s features had softened into something resembling sympathy. Even Barb had to look away, trying to hide the hurt she was feeling and the tears falling down her cheeks. Her makeup was smeared when she was able to look back.

“Okay, Rae. You’ve been very brave through all of this,” the caseworker started again as she finished writing notes onto a pad of legal paper, and suddenly Rae felt as if she was a five-year-old. “Why didn’t you go to the police and report your father?”

“Well,” Rae started. “I was scared. We all were. I didn’t…”

“Yes?”

“I didn’t wanna be separated from my brother, my friends. I-I know there is a possibility that I could be sent out of state- back to New York.”

“Even when you knew your life was in danger?”

“That was when we figured out it was too much to handle. So we went to Mrs Mathews.” Rae’s eyes shifted. Barb gave her an encouraging nod. Patricia nodded as well, but in confirmation. “She filed the paperwork to become my foster mother and legal guardian, but I guess they ain’t gone through yet. We had some visits and meetings, but that’s it.”

“Under the guise that you were just experiencing child abuse.” She sighed. ”It is true that we sometimes send children out of state to live with other relatives- but generally, they must be immediate. Grandparents, aunts, uncles. Older siblings if they are of age and-” Her eyes flicked to Dally again for a split second, then back down to her notes. “Without an arrest record. Or twenty. We know that you all have family in New York but we are not sure how closely related they are. It will be looked into, but it is unlikely.”

“So, what options do we have?” Two-Bit’s mom asked, sitting forward in her chair, leaning on her elbows. 

“Well, not many, I admit.” Rae frowned. Dally finally looked at her, listening intently. “We did go to your previous place of residence and it is, as you said in your paperwork, Mrs. Mathew, unlivable for a fifteen year old.” Patricia looked to her brother. “A seventeen year old should also not be living in such a place, but since you are almost eighteen, the state has decided to turn a blind eye to your situation.”

“Gee, thanks, miss,” Dally said with feigned gratitude and a roll of his eyes. “If you can’t tell, I don’t really give two shits about my own situation. I just want to know about my sister.”

“Charming, Mr. Winston.”

“I try.”

“Back to the task at hand. You also willingly withheld information from your previous caseworker, which doesn’t look good at all. Your father is nowhere to be found and has made an attempt on your life.” Patricia flipped her notepad a few pages back. “I suggest sending Rae to an undisclosed foster home for a time, until we can locate your father and bring him in.”

“That’s-”

“Since your father knows your friends and where they live, I must impress upon you that you cannot have contact with them until we have deemed it clear. It could put not only Rae but your friends in harm’s way.”

“Whoa, wait a second-,” Dally started.

“Mr. Winston, do you care about your sister’s wellbeing?”

“Well, duh, but-”

“Do you want her to be safe?”

“That’s what all this has been about, hasn’t it?”

“This is the best option she has now. There’s a foster home open right this moment across town that can take her in today.”

Rae looked at her brother and he looked back, an expression on his face she’d never seen before. She felt her eyes burn and panic claw its way up her throat. Her emotions must have been clear on her face.

“You won’t be leaving town,” Patricia said. “You’ll have to go to the other high school, but you won’t be far, if that makes you feel any better.” Mrs. Mathews shifted in her chair and uncrossed her legs.

“I’ll go call Keith and have him bring some of your clothes down, honey.” She stood and left the room for the main office. The caseworker also stood, closing her folders. 

“I’ll let you two have a moment.”

When she left the room, she closed the door behind her. The siblings were silent for a few long seconds.

“Dally, I’m scared,” Rae finally piped up. He bit his lip, but released it a moment later and took a deep breath.

“Me too.” He ran a hand through his blonde hair. “But we’ll-we’ll get you back. If I have to enlist all the boys to help hunt that bastard down, I will. I promise, Rae. We’ll get you back soon.” She nodded, letting some tears break free. She sniffled and wiped her eyes. He turned towards her. “I need you to be brave, okay?” His voice cracked on the last word and he paused, surprised at himself. He cleared his throat. “Okay?”

“Alright.” Her answer was barely a whisper.

“Good. Just-just sit tight and keep your head down. Leave everything to us.” Before she could respond, the door opened. 

“Time’s up, kids. Your clothes are here,” Patricia informed them. “Best that you come and say your goodbyes so we can get going.” 

Rae and Dally stood out of their chairs and followed her back into the main part of the station where Two-Bit waited, her backpack slung over his shoulder, his mother by his side. She was stroking his hair as she told him what was happening. A look of pure sadness overcame his face, but when he noticed his friends come around the corner, he batted his mother’s hand away and plastered a smile onto his face. He slid the backpack down his arm and held it out to her as they approached.

“Heard you might be needin’ this,” he said, obviously trying to keep his voice light. She tried to smile as well and took her bag. 

“Thanks, Two-Bit.” They stared at each other for a few quiet moments, fake smiles mirroring each other. Finally, he wrapped her up in a bear hug. She snaked her arms around his back as well, clinging to the t-shirt underneath his jacket. “It’ll be okay, right? I’ll be back soon.”

“We’ll find him,” he whispered into her ear. “You’ll be back home before you even know their names.” She nodded into his neck and he released her. She turned to his mother, who gave her a  quick, gentle hug. 

“When you get back, I promise I’ll make you a full-fledged member of the family.” Barb raised a hand and stroked Rae’s cheek. “You’ll always have a home with me. We’ll work hard while you’re gone to make it official.” She gave the older woman a grateful smile and lastly, turned to her brother. 

Dally stood there with a frown, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his jacket. He looked down at his sister, his eyes roving over her face as if trying to memorize it. She stepped up to him. 

“I guess this is it, huh?” she asked, quietly. He dipped his head towards the ground for a short moment before sniffling. 

“Yeah, kid, I guess it is.” He gathered her up in his arms and grasped her so tight, it was like he was holding on for dear life. 

“Bring me home,” she ordered him. “If anyone can, it’s you.” 

Yeah,” he answered and let her go. “Okay. Get goin’.” With a nod, she lifted her backpack to her shoulder and turned back to her caseworker, her blue eyes sharp. 

“I’m ready.”

[poor-sickies]

hey I'm the anon who asked for braces Lance, i was thinking maybe he had to get when he's like nineteen and feels kinda upset about having them so late when usually people get them in middle or high school? And idk he just feels self conscious and uncomfortable, plus he's hurting, so Keith tries to distract him because he went through having braces too?

Ahh this is such an old request and I’m so sorry I’m only writing it now! It was kind of a quick thing, so I hope there aren’t any mistakes. It’s also a fic that happens in my band AU. I hope you like it!

Also kudos to @cinquefoilelove who left some replies that gave me ideas for this one :)

*

“Can I come in?”

It’s Keith voice from the other side of the door, and despite their usual and familiar bickering, Lance can be sure he hasn’t come to make fun of him.

But he still wants to be alone.

He knows he’s probably making a big deal out of this – and really, it’s not even that bad, all things considered. All in all, it’s nothing worse than a simple teenage drama, in Lance’s opinion.

Except he isn’t really a teenager anymore, he’s nineteen, and nineteen year olds shouldn’t be getting braces.

It had started with some dull pains in his lower jaw, the joint clicking each time he opened his mouth, getting worse and worse until he was avoiding eating and singing because of the discomfort.

While visiting his family on Thanksgiving, his parents had noticed the problem and dragged him to a dentist. The outcome was…not pleasant. Something about a bad positioning of his jaw that needed to be fixed? Lance can’t recall the details over the dread filling his stomach, but the only solution was braces, and he was not happy.

And just because some days just kept getting worse, this morning, on his way to the dentist, he receives a call from Hunk, about a last-minute scheduled show Allura had got for them tonight, at the local University bar.

Two hours later, returning from the dentist, and he’s starting to wonder if he’s brave enough to go through with the show at all.

Just talking feels difficult enough, with all the wires and foreign pieces muddling his speech, and the new sores around his cheeks and tongue stinging at every little movement of his mouth. Not to mention the annoying and constant pressure all over his gums and jaw. If Lance had the night to himself, he would probably head to bed right after dinner with a couple of painkillers and hope it all felt a little better tomorrow.

The prospect of singing for fifty people isn’t nearly as appealing as usual when he’s in this much pain.

And looking in the mirror only reminded him of why this all had bothered him so much in the first place.

It’s no secret to anyone that Lance puts a lot of effort in his appearance. Even before stepping up as frontman of the band, his image has always been something he pays a lot of attention to. And even though he’s seen a lot of cute girls that look adorable in braces, he’s wasn’t exactly confident about how it all would look on him.

Now that he has the answer, he feels an urge to hide any mirror in sight.

How is he supposed to talk to his fans? To sing for them? He feels so unattractive and awkward, and not even his upbeat personality will help. Lance’s confidence is enough when he’s wearing his best shirts, glowing skin, crooked smirk that leaves the girls swooning, but that’s where most of it comes from.

He doesn’t care if his mother said he looked fine, these braces make him feel awkward and young all over again. He doesn’t know if he’s more embarrassed about the way he looks or the extent to which he’s taking this drama, but either way, he wants to be alone.

So no, the last thing he wants to do is to talk, even with Keith.

“I wanna be alone.”

But Keith was nothing if not persistent. “Stop feeling sorry for yourself and open the damn door.”

And brutally honest, for that matter.

Lance opens the door and Keith goes in, quickly taking a seat on the edge of the bed, his arms crossed against his chest.

“So,” he starts, “you wanna talk about it?”

Lance sits cross legged in the floor, leaning against the bed. “You just told me to stop feeling sorry for myself.”

Keith is caught off guard for a moment. He was expecting Lance to just spill things out, like he usually did, but apparently, this was getting to him a bit more than usual.

“I- look, I’m just trying to help, okay? Talking usually makes you feel better, right? So talk to me.”

“It’s uncomfortable,” Lance sighs, looking down at his lap, “and my speech is all fucked up, and my tongue is cut up all over, and my teeth hurt and - it looks bad. I look like a middle school kid. It just looks so awkward…so yeah, that’s it. You happy now?”

“I think you’re being dramatic,” Keith says, “I mean, I get the pain, I’ve been there - your teeth are moving, of course it’s gonna hurt for a while - but you don’t need to feel self-conscious about it. Besides, you’re only wearing them for like… a year, is it?” Lance nods, looking down, and Keith carries on. “Try wearing them for three years, maybe then you’ll have a reason to sulk.”

Well. It’s nothing he hadn’t expected from Keith. Trust Keith to be blunt.

“You had braces for that long?” He manages to ask.

Keith nods, eyes rolling involuntarily at the unpleasant memories. “Yeah. It sucked. I’d show you pictures if I had them - I’m sure you’d feel a lot better about yourself after seeing them.”

“That bad?”

“Oh yeah,” Keith continues, “Yours look somewhat discrete, actually.”

Lance scoffs. “Yeah, they sure are really invisible,” he trails off sarcastically.

Keith sighs. This isn’t working so well.

“Do you remember last summer when you were drunk and Pidge convinced you to get a death hawk for that rock festival, and you shaved half of your head?”

“Wow Keith, is that how you’re trying to make me feel better? By bringing up all the times I looked freaking terrible?”

“Would you just hear me out?!” Keith interrupts loudly, clinging to every last ounce of patience he still has. “Do you remember what you said at the time? The next day, when you saw yourself in the mirror?”

“That I would hide in my room and never see the sunlight again…?”

“Exactly. But you got over it. Do you remember why?”

Lance rolls his eyes. “Uh, cause… hair grows back?”

“No. Because you get used to it,” Keith says, “look, I’ve been there, okay? I know how much it sucks. But I can promise you, it’s not always gonna feel like that. And honestly, people don’t care that much.”

“Ugh. I hate it when you actually sound reasonable.” Lance sighs. “Alright. I’ll try to keep positive. And hope the show doesn’t go terribly.”

Keith chuckles with a fond smile. “Now will you come? We still have to get some dinner before.”

“Ah, that’s gonna be fun..” Lance rolls his eyes, and gets up. “Let’s get moving.”

*

“Hm. I see you’ve added something,” Shiro says as Lance takes a seat beside him, at their usual table at the bar.

“Yeah,” Lance chuckles, still looking down, “lucky me.”

“Oh Lance,” Allura says, “you have such a nice smile. I’m certain that’s what people notice right away.”

“I - thanks, Allura,” Lance blushes, feeling better for the first time since the day started.

“So, we were talking,” Pidge says, “and we agreed that if you’re not feeling up to it, Keith can do the vocals for most of the songs and hand you the guitar for a while.”

Keith nods, fingers still busy tuning the strings on his guitar.

“My voice is working fine,” Lance explains, “I can still do it.”

“Yeah, but we know it’s not comfortable yet, so just let us know if you need to stop, okay? And maybe take a painkiller.” Hunk reassures, giving a gentle squeeze to Lance’s forearm.

“The show starts in half an hour, we should probably have dinner now,” Shiro points out.

“Oh good, they have those amazing burritos, I’ll be set for the night!” Hunk grins, before calling the waiter.

“Ugh, guess I’ll order some water then,” Lance grumbles, rubbing his cheek, “ice cold.”

“Aw, buddy,” Hunk looks over at him, placing a hand on his shoulder, “you should really eat something before the show…did you even eat lunch?”

The waiter stops at the table and starts taking note of Keith and Pidge’s orders.

“Maybe some scrambled eggs?” Shiro suggests, leaning closer. He then turns to the waiter, “make them soft.”

Lance manages to eat, slowly and carefully. The painkiller starts kicking in, and the pain isn’t as bad, but talking is still uncomfortable, and he really doesn’t want to imagine how singing will turn out. The thought gives him some unusual stage fright, and it’s not a sensation he likes. He puts down his fork, and tries to relax. He’s done this dozens of times. Why is he so anxious now? The stage is usually his happy place, and it really sucks that such a tiny problem is making him feel like this.

“Hey, Lance,” Pidge calls out, tapping his shoulder. “Calm down. Your leg is bouncing like crazy.”

“I – yeah. Sorry Pidge.”

“Oh, I think we have to go now. The stage is set up,” Shiro announces, and they all get up, walking to the back to get ready.

“It’s okay, Lance,” Pidge says, plugging her bass to the amplificator, slinging the strap around her neck. “It’s gonna be fine. You’re an amazing singer. How terrible can you be? And why does it matter if it doesn’t go well? I mean, we’ve done tons of great shows, it’s not a huge deal if this one doesn’t go that great. Just relax and have fun, like you always do. That’s usually what makes our songs great.” She argues. “Besides,” she lowers her voice with a sly smile, “this place doesn’t have amazing acoustics. So even if you mess up some words, the crowd will most likely not notice. You’ll be great.”

That’s some kid of security Lance can lean on. He trusts his bandmates. This is not some new situation. He just needs to relax and have fun. Feeling revigorated, he nods. “Thanks, Pidge. Let’s do this.”

[starryeyed-char]

Like A Star

It's the two year anniversary of Voltron, and so naturally I have to post something! And the whole thing is actually on tumblr again (though it’ll be on AO3 too, as usual). Season six comes out soon, and I wanted this to go up before that, so here you guys go! Just a heads up; I never cry writing angst, but I cried writing this. No happy endings here. So before you yell at me, I did try and warn you (even though all of you probably skipped over this anyway).

This is my personal take on Lance's whole 'let's go down swinging' philosophy, how I think he’d want to go out, and how I think Keith would react, since it’s a Keith-perspective(ish) piece that still focuses on Lance. I'm not sure if anything like this has been done before, and it probably has knowing how much people in this fandom put Lance through, but this is my take on that. I had the small idea of the title and how it would go and it just kind of... turned into this.

I’ve been wanting to post this for a while, but haven’t because it’s a bit... different than what I usually do. Still, I hope you enjoy, and I always like hearing your thoughts!

“How do you want to die?”

The question came out of nowhere, startling Keith out of his thoughts. He was even more shocked that Lance had asked this, of all people. Lance, who was smiling or laughing more often than not, asking about death?

Keith wouldn't have believed it, if they weren't the only two people standing on the bridge, looking at the star map.

“What...?” he asked intelligently, unsure what else to say. Lance huffed a short laugh.

“How do you want to die?” he repeated. He looked over at Keith this time, and met his eyes. “It's a simple question, really.”

“I... I don't know,” Keith stammered. “I've never really... given it much thought.” And he hadn't. Keith never stopped to consider that death was even a possibility. Because it wasn't an option— they were going to win.

Heroes always won.

Lance hummed thoughtfully. “Well, we're kind of fighting an alien war, but sure. Death could never touch the mighty Keith. His mullet is feared in every corner of the universe!” He broke off into laughter, and Keith shoved him lightly, forcing a smile.

“Have you?” Keith asked, genuinely curious. “Thought about it, I mean.”

“Well, yeah,” Lance said, as if it were obvious. As if the very idea of him dying wasn't... impossible. “Of course I have.”

But death could never touch Lance either. Not someone so... radiant, like Lance was in everything he did. Apparently, he didn't see it like that.

“So... how do you want to die, then?”

“Well, when I was little I wanted the end to come on a beach,” Lance began, eyes suddenly a million miles away. Keith didn't miss them snagging on a particular part of the star map. “I had all these dramatic ways cooked up in my head. Maybe I'd drown after getting swept away by a riptide, or I'd get attacked by a shark while surfing. Something really cool like that.”

Keith failed to see how dying could in any way be cool, but he didn't interrupt him.

“And then when I got older... I don't know. I've always had a big family, so I guess I wanted one in the future some day, for myself. A lot of kids, even grandkids, all that nonsense,” Lance told him, with a small smile. “Seems kinda unrealistic now, but... anyway. I think the best way to go would be surrounded by family, by people you care about, people you love, who remind you of the life you lived. You know?”

Keith didn't know, didn't understand, but he nodded along anyway.

“But now that we're here... defenders of the whole freaking universe...” Lance trailed off, sighed, then smiled again. There was something almost bitter in it. “I've had to reevaluate my plans a bit.”

“How so?”

“I want to die like a star,” Lance said, and his voice had suddenly gone so soft that Keith didn't know what to say in response.

“What, like, a movie star? Why does that not surprise me?” Keith tried for humor. The laugh died before it made its way out of his mouth.

Lance glanced at him briefly, then kept going, the words spilling out of his mouth faster and faster as he went on. As if he'd been wanting to say them for a while.

“No, like— an actual star. Shining. Like a big, supernova explosion,” Lance continued. “I want my death to mean something. I've come to terms with the fact that I'll probably die out here, but I don't want to be someone that's just... gone. I want my death to be something everyone else will remember.”

He paused to look at Keith again, who could do nothing but stare at him.

Lance brought a hand up to rub at the back of his neck. “I know. It's pretty selfish of me, isn't it?”

Keith shook his head immediately, because Lance wasn't selfish at all. Anything but, really. He just didn't know why it'd taken him so long to notice.

“How...” Keith had never been good at putting his thoughts into words, but he had to try anyway. “How can you just... assume that you're going to die out here?”

You can't die, you can't leave. It's impossible.

“It seems a little unrealistic that we'd all make it out of this unscathed,” Lance pointed out, and since when was he the logical one? “And if any of us was going to be the one to bite it, it'd totally be me, right? You have to realize that.”

Before Keith could even comprehend the meaning of those words, Lance stood up. He patted Keith on the shoulder as he headed for the door, and waved goodbye over his shoulder.

“Let me know when you figure it out! I've always had you pegged for either being too reckless or sacrificing yourself in some grand hero gesture. Sound about right?”

Keith stared after him, looking at Lance like he'd never seen him before.

Months went by, and that conversation was pushed to the back of Keith's mind. He chalked it up to Lance messing with him, and everything else continued as normal.

And then it happened.

The battle was a difficult one, and one they were clearly losing. The Galra fleets just kept coming, seemingly no end to the amount of soldiers they had to fight. A few of the bigger factions after  Zarkon fell had apparently teamed up, and attacked them all at once. They wound up splitting apart Voltron just to take care of them all.

It happened because Shiro and Matt had gone on a separate assignment on a podship a few days prior. Keith was, by chance, back from his latest mission with the Blade, and so had wound up having to pilot the black lion to counter the ambush.

Something he hadn't had to do in a while.

Keith was stupid. Reckless. He forgot that his connection to Black was still weak; he hadn't spent anywhere near enough time piloting the lion to really master it.

So he got in too close to the ship, and his lion froze up. Some sort of tractor beam, it must've been.

Keith was trapped.

And then the Galra began charging their ion cannon.

“Keith, get out of there!” Allura shouted. She was the first one to notice.

“I can't! It's a tractor beam— I can't control the lion! Black won't move!”

“You cannot let that blast hit you!” Pidge insisted. “If it does, it might— you might not make it!”

Keith grit his teeth, pulling desperately at the controls, but it was no use. They'd never been able to escape a tractor beam before without Voltron, or an outside force physically pushing them out of the way. He was stuck.

Stuck, right in the line of fire of something that had nearly destroyed the castle, even with it's massive size and powerful shields.

He wouldn't stand a chance.

“Can we— what can we do? We can get to him, right? We could take out the ship first?” Hunk was clearly growing frantic.

“I... I don't know if there's anything you can do,” Keith said softly.

“The Galra have us completely split up!” Allura reminded them. “We can't possibly work around all these ships and get there in time. There must be another way. Keith, can you try harder to focus on bonding with your lion? If she feels you're in danger, she should protect you!”

He was already trying to concentrate as hard as he possibly could, but nothing was working.

“This is exactly what the Galra wanted to happen,” Pidge realized. He could hear her voice shaking. “Keith— I'm trying to— I'm sorry, I—”

“It's okay,” Keith said, and was surprised to find that he meant it. “It might be too late for me to get completely out of the way, anyway.”

It was strange. Something in Keith's mind registered that this was the end, but an odd sort of calm settled over him.

Lance did say I'd die being reckless.

The thought sparked a chain reaction, and suddenly Keith's mind was reeling.

Lance hadn't said anything, even though the others were still shouting into the coms, even Coran. He looked over to where he'd last seen the red lion taking down a battle cruiser, but it was nowhere to be seen.

He... he would've liked to maybe hear Lance's stupid voice one more time, before he died. He would've liked to...

“Guys,” Keith said suddenly, feeling the need to say something to express at least some of what he felt. These guys were as good as family to him, after all. “Thank you, for always being there for me. All of you, I—”

“Oh, no you don't!” Lance's angry voice cut him off, and while Keith would normally be irritated by such a tone directed at him, now he couldn't find it in himself to feel anything but fond. “You are not dying like this!”

“Lance, I don't really think we have a choice. My lion won't move.”

There was a pause, and for a moment Keith could hear nothing save for the ion canon continuing to charge up. Then, “Mine will.”

It finally clicked in Keith's head, and he turned with horror to see the red lion barreling towards him, at full speed.

The red lion is the fastest, and most agile. It requires a skilled pilot who relies more on instincts than skill alone.

Lance maneuvered easily around the ships, ignoring the shots they took at him and heading straight for Keith.

Maybe the most reckless lion and the most reckless pilot really did go together well, after all.

None of the others would've made it in time, but that didn't matter.

Because what Lance was doing... this plan was suicidal. The red lion had the least amount of armor, and Keith would know. She may have been fast, but she took a lot of damage. Lance didn't seem to care about any harm befalling himself.

But... he'd said that Keith would be the one to make the grand hero gesture.

“No, no, Lance, you can't, you'll just get us both killed, for once in your life don't get in the way—”

“Sorry, Samurai,” Lance said, and god damn it, how could he sound so happy? “I can never resist getting in your way.”

The red lion slammed into him at the exact time the ion canon fired, and the momentum was enough to send Keith clear of the blast. He opened his eyes after his lion stilled again post-impact, and—

Lance hadn't been so lucky.

The light of the blast was like a million stars. It was too bright, too blinding.

Supernova.

“I want to die like a star.”

The words replayed in Keith's head, only to be drowned out by the screaming. So many voices, screaming. His own throat felt raw.

Lance was too, at first, the sound unlike anything Keith had ever heard from him before.

But when Lance's voice died with the light of the ion canon, leaving nothing but a silent, dark-eyed lion suspended broken in the emptiness, it was even worse.

“LANCE?!” Hunk was the first to call out, the one word already betraying his sheer panic. “LANCE!”

“You... he wouldn't... Lance can't be...” Pidge's voice shook before dying into nothing more than a whisper they could barely hear. “I can't lose any more of my family.”

Me neither.

He knew Pidge thought of Lance like a brother, and while he didn't know exactly what Lance was to him, he knew he couldn't lose it.

“Lance! Answer us! Say something!” That was Allura, trying to stay strong. Her voice broke on the last word anyway.

The coms gave them nothing but static.

“Lance,” Keith whispered. “Lance, please.”

Lance didn't respond. But Black did.

Perhaps the tractor beam was entirely out of range, or perhaps his apparent distress at Lance's current predicament was enough to make her open her mouth.

Whichever it was, Keith wasted no time in jet-packing over to Lance's lion, and Red immediately let him in. He knew she still cared for him.

Maybe that's why she let Lance put himself in so much danger, because it would've been Keith instead.

Another thing that made Red and Lance so annoyingly similar; they both threw caution to the wind to save Keith, on numerous occasions.

And Keith had... he'd missed both of them, while with the Blade. Terribly.

He could sense Red's sadness and regret as he explored their old bond. Almost like she was... mourning.

The thought did nothing to calm his nerves.

And when he got inside the lion...

Red. Much, much too much red.

Blood was everywhere.

Lance had been knocked to the floor, and was lying in a puddle of it. Keith couldn't figure out the source, but the sheer amount of it was enough to chill him to his core.

He was on his knees beside Lance in a second, and pulling him into his lap. The slight rise and fall of Lance's chest didn't give him any comfort, not with the strangled sound of his breathing.

The pulse Keith found on his wrist was too slow. Too soft.

He looked back to Lance's face, and fresh tears rolled down his cheeks when he saw that the other was awake. Pained, glossy, ocean blue eyes met Keith's.

“L... Lance.” Keith's voice desperately clung onto the word.

“Hey, man,” Lance replied, and somehow found the courage to smile. “Why're you crying?”

“Why... Why am I— Lance, you're... you're...”

You're dying. He couldn't even bring himself to say it. That would make it real.

“I know, I know, but you don't have to be sad.” Lance coughed, and a small trail of blood dribbled from the corner of his mouth. “This is just how I wanted to go, after all.”

Keith shook his head, grasping for something, anything. "You... you can't die here. You just pushed me out of the way, that's not... this isn't good enough. This is reckless, this is how you said I would die, remember? You need to get that big, supernova ending, right? Like a star? It's not supposed to be my fault, I—” he stopped, choked off by a sob. “It can't be my fault.”

“It's not your fault,” Lance said, voice firm despite the pain he was feeling. “And... thats not quite what I... what I meant. I mean, d-don't get me wrong, the... explosion was n-n-nice, b-but I meant... I meant... being cr-cradled in your a-arms.”

Keith didn't understand. “...What? No. You... you wanted to go out with something meaningful, right? That's not—”

“Of course I d-do,” Lance cut him off. "And this... it is. But before... before th-that, do you... do you r-remember what I said?”

Keith blinked, the tears spilling out of his eyes. “Of course I remember.” How could he forget? “You... you said that back on Earth, you wanted to die with your family, people you care about. People you—” And Keith stopped, eyes blown wide. “No.”

“People I love,” Lance finished for him, smiling shakily. “Y-Yeah.”

“No,” Keith said again, shaking his head. “No, no, no, you can't— Lance, you can't, I—”

“Give the Galra hell from me, okay, Keith?” Lance asked.

And he was dying. Dying in Keith's arms, even if he didn't want to admit it. “Okay,” he whispered.

“And you g-guys will... you'll remember me, r-right?”

Keith's grip on him tightened, ever so slightly. He could feel another lion tugging them towards the castle, but he knew they wouldn't make it in time. “Right. Of... of course we will. I won't let anyone in this entire universe forget.”

“You'll tell... m-my family? And th-the team, too... that I l-loved them?”

“Yes,” Keith told him, pressing their foreheads together. “I promise.” And then, because he'd wanted to for so long, because he never had and he never would again, Keith kissed him. Pressed their lips together, soft and sweet and much, much too short, and then drew away, face wet with both of their tears.

Lance sighed, a soft smile ghosting over his features. “Frente al amor y la muerte no sirve de nada ser fuerte. And Keith?”

“I'm here.”

“Thank y-you. For... everything.” Lance's eyes slipped shut. “Puedo ver a las estrellas.” All the breath left him. He didn't draw in another.

Keith buried his face in the crook of Lance's neck, and sobbed.

[autisticlancemcclain]

fic rec friday 26

welcome to the twenty-sixth fic rec friday! where, on friday, i rec five of my favourite fics.

1. suite on you by @adelfie

Lance feels a little jarred when he sees nothing friendly in the suitemate’s eyes, and then foolish. He scrambles to find something to say. “Do you have any rules?" Keith’s eyes darken. “Yeah. Don’t bother me this semester. Or ever.”

-- Accident-prone Lance McClain learns that his grumpy suitemate, Keith, has one rule: to leave him alone. Lance would really like to follow that rule. Really. But his clumsiness has other plans.

(Or, 5 times Lance bothers Keith and 1 time Keith lets him.)

any fic that uses the Lance is a Ray of Sunshine tag is a fave of mine bc he is. i loved how in this one keith called lance sweet, not like an adjective but as a petname?? anyways it killed me and it made lance melt as you might have guessed. i loved it

2. Shiro, You Ignorant Slut by notverystraight

“I like Keith,” Lance blurted suddenly.

Shiro blinked. “Oh.” Not exactly the revelation he’d been expected. “He likes you, too.”

- In which Shiro accidentally reveals Keith and Lance’s feelings for each other… without even knowing about them in the first place.

god bless fics that write shiro as the dorky dumbass he is. he WOULD be the one to spill the beans without knowing that there are even beans to be spilled. i love him

3. Escalate by demonsushi01 [EXPLICIT]

Day 15. Flustered

5 +1 Fives times in which Lance is flustered by Keith during their relationship, with it steadily shifting from more innocent things as it continues. And one time in which he gets back at Keith.

this mostly isnt explicit, its mostly just klance turning their relationship into a competition lol. they also spend a significant amount of time embarrassing their friends which is excellent

4. Part of Your World by @floranna

Keith sat at the dock, glaring at the water, wearing only his speedos. It was a bright, warm, and sunny day, with slight enough of a breeze to keep the worst of the heat away. Not like Keith cared or anything like that, of course, but…

Everything spelled that it should have been a beautiful, wonderful day, full of wonderful memories, if only that sharp-toothed half fish would actually show up!

happy belated mermay my loves <3 you want klance? teasing and soft and domestic? monstertron? lance with very sharp teeth? keith being very into lance with very sharp teeth? one stop shop babey

5. Hunk’s List of Grievances by @littlecinnamonbunny

Honestly, Hunk deserves better.

or

Five times that Hunk thought he walked in on Lance and Keith doin’ the hanky-panky, and one time he actually did.

this fic made me LAUGH. like literally out loud. let me introduce yall to my favourite part:

And that’s when it happens.

A familiar gloved hand comes into view, pale fingers pushing back Lance’s fringe with a soft groan, and Hunk realizes that Lance's mouth is currently preoccupied and will not be able to respond. But it’s too late because Hunk’s already opened his own mouth to speak.

“Hey Lance, Allura wants to– hoLY F- oh yup okay that’s definitely a dick, goodbye I’m gonna erect myself out of- eject! - eject myself out of the airlock now.”

He turns on his heel and speed walks the fuck out, and even Yellow is sending him questioning concern that tingles the corners of his mind (though it’s tinged with amusement, the filthy traitor) and he ignores Lance’s choking and coughing and swearing.

He also chooses to ignore Keith’s mortified cry of his name along with “wait-!” because no Keith, why the fuck would he wait?!

‘Oh sorry, let me just pause in my desperate attempt at fucking off for a moment so you can remove your genitals from the back of my best friend’s throat and try and convince me that your penis was checking for cavities’.

like holy shit 😭😭 words cannot express how out of pocket this whole fic is like i genuinely cannot read it without smiling

that’s it for today!! i’ll see y’all back next friday for the next fic rec post!!!  

[getyourvitamin-bri]

Super-Mega-Foxy-Awesome-Hot Klance Fic Recs!

One-Shots

Sweet Quiznak - CheckeredCloth Read if your into hurt/comfort and humor, an odd mix but this fic does it awesomely. Summary: "You're really into him," Hunk mutters, and wow, Lance's face is on fire. Hunk is killing him. "Look, read into how you like, Freud, just make sure that if I die Keith knows I totally would've mowed his ass like grass. That way, I can laugh hysterically at his emotionally-constipated expression from the afterlife." Rated Teen & Up

Love Bug Stuff - WhatTheBodyGraspsNot @whatthebodygraspsnot I’m such trash for Love Bug fics, this one in particular is stellar. Summary: Keith is bitten by an alien love bug that makes him fall in love with the first person he sees. And just guess who the heck that first person is? Rated M

Never Saw You Coming - dimpleforyourthoughts @dimpleforyourthoughts Read if you love angst, slow burn, mutual pinning, and hurt/comfort aka read if you love being put through all the feels :) Summary: Three months in space on his own would have been fine. Three months in space with Lance McClain is a whole other fucking story. Rated M

nothing’s quite as sweet - dimpleforyourthoughts There is cute cats and cute klance, need I say more? Summary: Keith is a barista who hates his job. Lance works at the cat shelter across the street. Rated Teen & Up

Muy Lindo - flipfloppandas - I’m trash for shy adorable keith and this fic delivered. Summary: In which Lance must learn how to navigate through a relationship with a Keith who is surprisingly shy, but it’s okay because Lance honestly freaking loves it. Not Rated.

implosion (the lines we cross) - pidgeotto_gunderson Some well written hard core angst if your up for it. Summary: The adrenaline is pumping through his veins - this is what he needs, what they both need. To yell and scream and hurt each other before they can mend.Fix-it fic for s7e6, imagining if Lance and Keith fought things out while they were all lost in space and it led to Lance finally spilling about his insecurities. Rated Teen & Up

Crest of White, Bow Down - 2towels @2towels I totally went “awwww” while reading this fic, its so adorable, it will definitely make you smile. Summary: “I don’t know what I need to do to prove to you that I haven’t thought about leaving, but I haven’t.”Without hesitating, Lance lifted his good hand to rest on Keith’s cheek and stroked his thumb across it, silently appreciating his pouty features as he swallowed. “Tell me every day you love me more,” He finally demanded dramatically and breathlessly, flitting his gaze down to Keith’s shoulders instead of the intensity of his eyes, “maybe that would work.”“That wouldn’t even be a challenge.” Keith said quietly.--Five times Lance is swept off his feet, and one time he falls. Rated Teen & Up

Kodachrome - HoddieMaine @joinmeinthishell , Ninke_A @collector-of-hats Wow this is such a beautiful story, its really well written, read if you love pinning and fluff. Summary: Keith has been at a loss for a while now. His job is terrible, his passion for photography has waned, and his pseudo brother has moved to some little town and keeps insisting he visit.When Keith finally does go, he ends up on a little street full of quaint shops. He intends to simply spend time with Shiro but ends up in a record store across the street. With a very attractive man, who signs instead of speaks. Rated E

Thinking ‘Bout You - BleuSarcelle @bleusarcelle, Queerklancing   @queerklancing I got a cavity from the fluff in this fic :) Summary: That time Keith had a voice in his head singing and found out he had a quite unique soulmate link. Rated G

Rose-Colored Boy - melancholymango  @melancholymango Read if you enjoy angsty lance, langst, & to experience all the feels. Summary: “I missed you, you know.”“Yeah?” Lance sighed, warm and giddy, clearly not absorbing how serious the words truly were. “Yeah.” Keith said, more certainty in his voice now. He reached down, hesitantly threading his fingers through Lance’s and giving his hand a squeeze. Lance tensed next to him. “I still do.”“I mean, I’m right here.”“Are you? You still seem pretty far away.” Rated Teen & Up

Blue Christmas -  melancholymango  I loved how keith and lance were written in this fic, its just overall super well written. Summary: The team decides to celebrate the holiday season in space as nostalgia gets the better of them, but reflecting on the past hurts Lance more than it helps and Keith doesn't have any memories to reflect on. AKA the one where Keith and Lance hate the holidays together, only to realize that they were actually celebrating all along in their own Keith and Lance way. Rated G

Multi-chapter

Not That Bad - varelsen @lvtvr Yeah this fic gave me lot of feelings, their relationship builds beautifully. Summay: “Am I really going to have to explain this to you?”“No, I’m totally fine with you shutting up right about now.” Hunk cups his hands around his mouth. “You. Are crushing. On Keith.” Or, a college AU featuring coffee shops, silly rivalries, motorcycles, arcade games, friendships, and lots of warm, fluffy feelings that are both confusing and delightful all at the same time. Rated M

Entangled - Purpleneutrino (mackerelmademedoit) @purpleneutrino I found this fic super interesting to read, and literally could not put it down. Summary: When Keith found himself mentally linked to Lance of all people, he never thought that it would end in anything but irritation and misery on both sides. He certainly never imagined that it would be a useful asset in team Voltron's fight against the Galra Empire. Now if he can just keep his feelings in check, they might actually have a chance at defeating Zarkon. Needless to say, when he'd wished for a 'bonding moment' with Lance, this wasn't exactly what he'd had in mind. Rated M

Hearts Don’t Break Around Here - klancekorner @dimplesandcurlsss Yeah I stayed up till 4am reading this and it was glorious, I finished at 3am and just thought about it for another hour, so awesome! Summary: Lance and Keith have been best friends since first grade. Lance’s brain is always on overdrive and Keith’s blunt, realistic ass can never keep up. They both come to realize that sometimes you can learn a lot about loving yourself by loving someone else. Rated M

Something just like this - klancekorner A summer romance sundae with a friends to lovers cherry on top. Summary: Keith reluctantly becomes the counselor for the Red Cabin at Camp Voltron, a summer camp in the middle of buttfuck nowhere that his older brother Shiro has worked at for years. Already unhappy with the current position that he is in, Keith prepares himself for a boring, sweaty, miserable summer; and his frustration only grows when he meets the counselor for the Blue Cabin Rated M

You and I Collide - idratherhaveyou @itsthegameilike If you looked up cute in the dictionary, this modern apartment au would be the definition. Summary: Lance likes to sing in the shower. Keith lives in the apartment next door and the walls are not very thick. And you can bet when Lance wakes him up at 7:30 in the morning, Keith has something to say about it. Rated M

I’ve Got You - DragonofFernweh @dragonastral Keith comforting lance is my aesthetic, this fic is my aesthetic. Summary: Keith isn’t great at the whole comfort thing, he doesn’t have a way with words, nor does he have much experience in way of affection. Still, when Lance hurts, Keith wants to do something to help. Otherwise known as; five times Keith comforts Lance, and one time Lance comforts Keith. Rated G

it’s easier for you to let me go - welcometothehumanrace  Should be called 6 times I went AAJKSCNSKDCNSJ because of how fluffin’ cute keith and lance are. Summary: Keith did not think Lance's arms were anything to get excited about. Or his shoulders. Or any general part of him. Just everything about him was unexciting as a whole.Obviously. Or 5 times Lance put his arms around Keith and the one time Keith really wanted him to. Rated Teen & Up

The Message - shipstiel @shipstiel-writes Wow this wrong number fic is just glorious, I laughed, I went “awwwww”, I just had such a good time reading this. Summary: Keith is texted by accident by some idiot one day, and honestly he's not even sure why he responds. Or why he keeps responding. Yet somehow he finds himself drawn in, and okay, so maybe this fool is mildly entertaining after all. Who would've thought. Rated Teen & Up

Homesick at Space Camp - K0bot @k0tron So awesome...just a fucking great fic. Its got fake relationship/married, its got angst, its got ballroom dancing, its got so much fluff, do I need to say any more? Summary: Lance realizes he's been an asshole to Keith, and on a diplomatic mission to a key planet for the Voltron alliance he... overcompensates.

Fake It Till You Make It - nikkiRA @aravenlikeawritingdesk I’m a sucker for Fake/Pretend Relationship fics and this one is the fic that started that particular habit. Summary: “What Keith here means to say,” Lance says, and although his voice is steady, he is gripping Keith’s fingers so tightly it’s painful. “Is that we can’t mate with your people, although we, um, appreciate the offer, because, well. We already are. M-mated, I mean. With, you know. Each other.” Rated M

I hope you love these fics as much as I did, they are some of my fav fics of all time. It took me forever to finish this post because I sorta, kinda, maybe, totally re-read a lot of them while making it :) Shout out to fanfiction writers, thank you for putting so much of your time into these stories for free, your all amazing! 

Check out my blog if you would like >>> @getyourvitamin-bri

[emospritelet]

Kiss of Life - chapter 4

In which Belle has a blind date...

AO3 link

#

Her Saturday shift at the hospital had made Belle tired and sore, and she slept later than usual on Sunday, forgoing her usual run in favour of a brisk walk to the diner for a coffee and bear claw.  Mary Margaret and Ruby were chatting at the bar, and Belle slid onto a seat beside them to place her order.

“You look tired,” said Mary Margaret sympathetically.  “Long night, huh?”

“It was hard work,” admitted Belle.  “I’m enjoying it, though. Feels like I’m doing something worthwhile.”

“Any fights break out?” asked Ruby.  “They tend to spill over from the bar sometimes.”

“None that I saw,” said Belle, yawning.  “That Keith guy grabbed my arse, though.”

Mary Margaret and Ruby made the almost identical sounds of cats being stepped on.

“Remind me to kick him in the balls next time I see him,” said Ruby.

“Dr Gold threatened to report him to the Sheriff if he did it again,” said Belle.

“Oh, if Emma finds out he’s up to that kind of thing, she’d kick him in the balls,” said Mary Margaret.

“I don’t think you’ve met Emma,” added Ruby.  “Blonde. Wears a lot of plaid. Married to Regina Mills, the Mayor.”

“The Sheriff married the Mayor?” said Belle.  “That’s kind of sweet.”

“The deputy sheriff’s also a lesbian,” added Mary Margaret.  “Mulan. She’s dating Merida, the redhead who works at the Rabbit Hole.”

“This town is powered by gays,” mused Ruby.

Belle giggled, and Ruby slapped her hands on the bar.

“But never mind about everyone else’s love lives!” she said excitedly.  “It’s your big date tomorrow! You ready?”

“As I’ll ever be, I guess,” said Belle.

“Who are you going on a date with?” asked Mary Margaret curiously, and Ruby grinned.

“I told her I’d fix her up with a book lover, right?” she said, and leaned on the bar, eyebrows twitching as she grinned.  “Okay, so his name’s Isaac Heller, he’s a writer, he’s always reading something or tapping away on his laptop when he’s in here—”

“You set her up with Isaac?” said Mary Margaret, in a flat tone, and Ruby spread her hands.

“What?” she protested.  “He’s a writer, a book nerd!  He could be Belle’s soulmate!”

“I’m not sure I believe in soulmates,” said Belle.  “Besides, it’s only a date. A blind one, at that.”

“Well, I told him you’d meet him here,” said Ruby.  “Seven-thirty tomorrow, okay?”

#

Belle tried to recall the last time she had been on a date, remembered that it was almost a year ago, and sighed to herself.  After some deliberation, she had chosen an understated outfit: a flared black skirt with a fitted white shirt and little black cardigan.  The date was at Granny’s, so at least she would be on familiar territory, and Ruby would be there to step in if it turned into a disaster.  She’d had one or two dates like that in the past, after all.

#

Isaac Heller was a nervous-looking man with a long, thin face, dark hair and anxious eyes.  He ordered a bottle of red wine and two glasses, delivered to the table by Ruby, who beamed at him and winked at Belle as she left.  It took about ten minutes for Belle to decide that, whether or not soulmates existed, hers was not currently sitting across from her.  Isaac was polite enough, pulling out her chair when they sat down, but agonised over the menu choices for half an hour before finally ordering the chicken parm, and then spent ten minutes wondering aloud whether the steak would have been better.

She found that she didn’t have to say much; Isaac told her all about his time travelling in New York and Boston and down into Florida, researching for his new book.  He then told her about his agent, who had told him he was the next Hemingway, although whether that was something to be proud of was a matter of opinion, in her eyes.  He then moved onto his publisher, who was being, in his words, unreasonably picky about the progress of his novel. Belle had drunk three glasses of wine by the time their food arrived, and while eating gave her something else to do with her hands, it didn’t distract Isaac from telling her the plot of his novel about a disillusioned but brilliant writer having what sounded to her like a midlife crisis.

“So let me get this straight,” said Belle, when he finally drew breath long enough to put a piece of chicken in his mouth.  “The protagonist has a gorgeous girlfriend who - apparently - caters to his every need, and he’s still not happy?”

“He’s a tortured soul,” said Isaac earnestly, leaning forward.  “Always looking for something better. A perfectionist, you see.  He’s so used to excelling at what he does, he assumes that carries over into all areas of his life.  I can relate to that.”

Belle almost choked on her wine, and her eyes watered as she tried not to splutter in amusement.  She was feeling light-headed, and it was making her lose patience.

“Okay, so Mr Perfect wants the perfect woman by his side while he writes his wish-fulfilment self-insert porn or whatever it is he’s doing—”

“It’s a future New York Times bestseller...” he said indignantly

“Right,” sighed Belle, taking another drink.  “My point is - why was she attracted to him in the first place?”

Isaac blinked.  “What?”

“What does she see in him?” asked Belle.  “Why are they together?”

Isaac stared at her, fingers twitching on his napkin, his mouth open a little.

“Are you saying you don’t believe she could love him?”

“Well, I don’t really know anything about her,” Belle explained, and when he looked confused, added: “I mean, I know what she looks like, that she’s tall - but not as tall as him - and she has the body of a burlesque dancer and a beautiful face—”

“Yes!” said Isaac eagerly, nodding.  “You can see her in your mind, can’t you?”

“Well - kind of,” said Belle slowly.  “I mean she looks at herself naked and describes herself in detail so there’s that.  I can picture her from the description, but I still don’t know anything about her.  Other than that she’s very supportive of him and drinks latte and is oddly aware of her own breasts.”

He looked puzzled, and she sighed.

“What does she do?” she asked.  “What are her interests?  Who are her friends? Does she exist as a character outside her relationship with the protagonist?  Is she a whole person or is she just there to get him laid and provide some manpain when she dies?”

His mouth fell open.

“How did you know she dies?”

She closed her eyes, reaching for her wine again.  Something told her there wouldn’t be a second date.

#

Belle sighed, pressing her palm to the small of her back and stretching.  They had been short-handed the past few days, and she had worked more hours than she had planned.  Her entire body ached from rushing around and carrying supplies in her first week of work, but it was a good sort of ache, the kind that came from hard work that meant something.

She still had three hours left of her shift, but Dorothy had taken one look at her and told her to go get some coffee.  She hadn’t objected, and she rolled stiff shoulders as she made her way to the cafeteria, smiling her thanks and handing over some cash in return for a mug of coffee and a maple pecan Danish.  She turned away, glancing around in vain for a vacant table.  The place was full of hospital staff chatting over coffees and tucking into cake and sandwiches, and there was only one table with a single occupant.  Belle sucked in a breath as she saw that it was Dr Gold.

He was sitting with one elbow on the table, a cup of coffee steaming in front of him and his finger and thumb rubbing at the bridge of his nose, as though his eyes were tired.  She suspected they were; he had been on shift when she had arrived, and would no doubt be there long after she had gone home to crawl into bed and think about how it might feel to kiss him.  Which seemed to be the uppermost thought in her mind every night since she had started working at the hospital.

She made a decision, stepping forward quickly to stand beside his table.

“Dr Gold,” she said, and he looked up, dark eyes heavy.

“Miss French,” he said.  “How are you settling in?”

“Um - okay, I guess,” she said.  “Do you mind if I sit down?  There’s a shortage of free tables.”

“Oh, of course.”  He gestured to the seat opposite.  “Be my guest.  I’ll be leaving soon, anyway.”

She slid into the seat, setting down her coffee and Danish.

“We could split it, if you like,” she said, and he glanced at the pastry with a spark of interest in his eyes, but shook his head.

“Coffee’s all I need.”

She privately thought he could do with eating a few decent meals and working fewer hours, but she said nothing.  She tore off a piece of the pastry, putting it in her mouth and licking sticky glaze from her fingers.  He was eyeing her over the rim of his coffee cup as he sipped at it, and she sucked a few crumbs from her thumb.

“Apologies for my messy eating,” she said.

“That’s quite alright.”  He set down his cup.  “I’ve seen you running around the place, I suspect you could use the energy.”

“Yeah.”

She tore off another piece and popped it in her mouth, making a noise of enjoyment at the rich taste of the buttery pastry and the maple-coated pecans.  Dr Gold took another sip of his coffee.

“How are you enjoying working here?” he asked.

“Oh, it’s been - well, it’s been hard work, and I feel like I don’t know what the hell I’m doing, but it’s been fun,” she said, and he gave her a tiny smile.

“Well, the feeling of not knowing what the hell you’re doing never fully goes away, if it’s any comfort,” he said.

“But you’re a doctor,” she said.  “The doctor, from what I hear.  The most experienced in this place.”

“And none of us are infallible,” he said.  “More’s the pity.”

He drained his cup, setting it down with a clunk, and pushed to his feet with the aid of his cane.

“I’ll leave you to your snack,” he said.  “Good evening, Miss French.  And welcome aboard.”

He shook back his hair, nodded to her once, and strode off with his swift, limping stride.  Belle watched him go, sighing to herself.  Her crush on the man was intense, all-consuming, and apparently wholly unrequited.

[scriveyner]

impact

this is completely unbeta’d and I’m super rusty but I wanted to write something to share on my birthday ... and ran out of time instead, oops. so happy friday the 13th instead!

Shiro stood at the opening of the booth and stared at the large array of plush monstrosities as Lance handled the toy weapon, then turned slightly and glanced along the arcade row behind them. The entire area was teeming with people of all shapes and sizes, alien forms both familiar and not clustered together as they made their way through the carnival. He knew that Keith and Allura weren’t far, but he couldn’t see them through the crush of nightlife and that kept him more on edge than he ought to be.

After a moment of stretched silence, Shiro realized he had been addressed and glanced back to Lance, surprised. “What?” he asked, lamely, because the frown that had settled on Lance’s face grew with his response. “I’m sorry, Lance, I got distracted.”

Lance shook his head and started to put down the toy weapon. It was long, longer than the blaster rifle that Lance’s bayard turned into and reminded Shiro more of a hunting rifle. “It’s okay,” he said, although the tone of his voice had slid into disappointment. “I know we’re on a mission, not a date.”

There was another beat of silence, and then Lance flushed pink and looked away quickly. “N-not that this was ever a date,” the words spilled out of him fast and Shiro blinked a few times in response. “Sorry, I don’t know why I even said that.” Lance sighed deeply, and made to step away from the booth.

It wasn’t a date. Shiro looked to the booth, with its gaudy arrangement of plush aliens, and simplistic-but-likely-rigged shooting gallery, and then back to Lance, who was already scanning down the arcade, undoubtedly looking for one of the others, and the sudden realization of why Lance had been so excited that Shiro had selected him for this mission struck him, and the tips of his ears went pink. Oh.

“Lance,” Shiro said, but it was loud and Lance kept a few steps ahead of him, his walk determined, not dejected. They hadn’t seen the Princess or Keith yet, but Shiro knew that they were around. After a moment of hesitation he touched Lance’s shoulder, and Lance looked back at him. “Maybe that booth?” he suggested, indicating with his head a booth that had half a dozen thin, reedy aliens clustered around it. The edge’s of Lance’s smile returned and Shiro smiled back as he let Lance lead him to this booth.

It was a variation of the milk bottle game he’d seen every summer at the pop-up carnival that happened in the town he grew up. Several of the reedy aliens were winding up to throw a ball at the pyramid of vessels, but they lacked the strength to even get the balls close; they slowed and dropped abruptly, like they had hit some sort of invisible force field. Shiro frowned at this, but Lance nudged his shoulder, pointing to the prizes on display.

There were very obvious knock-offs of the Voltron Lions among the cheap prizes here. Shiro laughed despite himself, and Lance grinned. “I need to win you that Black Lion,” he said, and stepped up to the booth.

The alien running the booth was Galra in heritage, but not full-blooded; he was large and purple, with a wild shock of green fur and red-fringed ears. That, mixed with the outrageous hues of his carnival outfit made him a walking headache. Lance leaned back, looking to Shiro. “Do we have any money?”

They didn’t, technically have any GAC. But the funny thing about a digital currency was that someone with the right amount of technical knowledge could manufacture the credits without much difficulty. Once upon a time Shiro would have probably frowned at counterfeiting but hey, he was a rebel revolutionary in a war against a galactic superpower and that didn’t exactly pay well. He handed over Pidge’s newly-minted credit chips and Lance gleefully paid the seizure-inducing Galra for an armful of balls.

Lance wanted to win him a knock-off Black Lion stuffed creature, and that was insanely charming.

Lance had a good arm, and a good eye. However, the first ball he threw never even made it across the booth, falling far short of the target. Lance paused, frowning, having been somewhat confident prior to this. “Huh,” he said, holding the second ball in his hand a moment as he re-judged the distance. “That’s weird.”

The second ball made it farther than the first, but not by much. The Galra clucked his tongue in a false show of sympathy for Lance, as Lance wound up and flung the final ball as hard as he could.

Just like the two previous, it dropped to the ground far short of hitting its target.

Lance’s shoulders slumped in dejection, and he jammed his hands into his pockets, turning on his heel and not realizing how close Shiro was nor how closely he’d been watching. His cheeks flushed slightly in shame. “Guess I wasn’t as good at that one as I thought,” he said, and tilted his head. “Should we go find Keith?”

“Hang on a second,” Shiro said, and pulled out another credit. He was startled by Lance’s hand on his arm.

“It’s not worth it,” Lance said, and there was still that hint of shame to his tone. “It’s rigged as hell, did you see how hard my throws hit the ground?”

He had, of course. The balls were likely magnetized. “I saw,” Shiro said, and held up his credit, waiting for the Galra to notice him. “I just wanna try, too.”

His first attempt flopped just as Lance’s had. He hadn’t thrown the ball particularly hard, calculating the weight of it and watching how it plummeted. “Yeah,” he said, weighing the second ball in his right hand before he switched it to his right hand. “Definitely rigged.”

#

“What is that?” Keith said when he saw what Lance was carrying under his arm. Shiro was right behind Lance, wearing an expression that could only be described as pleased with himself. Keith’s eyebrows drew together when he saw that, and when he looked back at Lance, Lance blushed.

“Shiro won me a lion,” Lance said. “And knocked down a rigged game, too, that dude wasn’t happy at all.” He looked back at Shiro and grinned, and Shiro smiled fondly in response; and Keith scowled when they started blushing awkwardly at each other.

Allura patted his arm and in leaned in close. “Let them have this,” she said, and kissed his cheek.

[ghost1643]

Secret of the paladian- Keith sees things

So a year ago I wrote a thing on Wattpad. And I kinda wanted to put it on this so, here goes nothing.

Okay, I'm not trans or know any trans people so, I don't mean to attend anyone by writing this. No one at all. So if I am offensive in any way in apologize. So without further due, here goes nothing.

One part of the story was written by me and Mackenzieherself on Wattpad, mainly the changing part and she also introduced me to the trans Lance head canon so

I own nothing but, a few OCs. And please let me know if you wish for me to continue this on Tumblr and catch it up to the point I've got it to on Wattpad.

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Training was like hell today. Allura barking about every time anyone messed up. She kept yelling at him over and over again. Telling him what he did wrong, Lance didn't need that today. He had tried to work hard and be better but, nothing was ever good enough for her. Nothing he ever did was good enough for people. Especially one thing he never told anyone since he was 15. Since before he joined the garrison. Not even Hunk knew about it. Which was hard to keep that way.

"Now as I was saying, you have to focus more Lance. You can flirt with who's ever you want later just focus on what's important to the galaxy, Voltron. If you don't care fine. Just remembered that may get everyone you know killed." Allura snapped. She had enough of Lance's crap. Enough of the flirting. Enough of the relaxing when he was supposed to be working. Enough of barely working while training. Just enough of Lance.

"Allura I'm trying." Lance mumbled. He didn't wanna do this again. This used to happen all the time when people found out about his secrets. Each one of them.

"Trying isn't good enough! Especially if it's coming from you!" She snapped spinning around. Her eyes were now glaring at him. Luckily the rest of the crew wasn't there to hear any of this. If they had been Lance was pretty sure he would have died from embarrassment.

Lance gulped down what little pride he had left. What little bit of him that was telling him to fight her or argue back. To do anything to stop what she was saying.

"I promise I'll try harder." Lance sighed. His chest was killing him. It felt like his chest was being squeezed until it was going to pop open spilling his guts on the floor and all over Allura. He had to go to his room soon.

"Good. Now you may return to your room. You'll need to sleep for training if you can even do that." Allura mumbled the last part. Lance still heard it though. The best part was that was the exact point he felt his heart shatter. Well, at least that's what it felt like happened other than the air slowly being squeezed out of him.

"Will do." Lance stated before bolting out of the room. He couldn't stay in there for another minute. He new that if he stayed there for another second he was going to either cry or drop dead.

This left Allura alone for a while. She just stood there for a second before turning to leave. While trying to leave she tripped over Lance's helmet. She let out an Altean swear word fall out of her mouth. The door behind her opened to reveal Keith. She turned her head and glared at him.

"You know if you want me to leave-" He didn't even finish his sentence before Allura was back on her feet with a happy smile on her face. The same creepy happy smile she wore before she blew up and started yelling at people.

"No, stay! Stay! It's fine!" Allura smiled. Kieth the kinda doubted that.

"It's just I tripped over Lance's stupid helmet!" Allura snapped holding the helmet up in the air. It was like she was trying to destroy it with her eyes. Not eye beams like super man had or anything. Just her eyes.

"Why don't I just go run that to him while you go to bed?" Keith stated looking at her. Last time she looked as mad as this she ended up yelling at someone for hours on end. Hours! Shiro didn't care though. He was half way asleep during that time any ways.

"That would be nice. I haven't gone to bed early in who knows how long." Allura sighed handing him the blue helmet. She left the room so quickly that Keith was pretty sure she was the flash.

"I could tell." Keith mumbled as he stood in place looking at the helmet.

He looked directly into where Lance's beautiful eyes would be. His beautiful light blue eyes. The eyes that made Keith's heart speed up every time he looked in them. Every time he even glanced at them. Every time he thought about him. Which probably explained why he was in love with him.

Keith snapped out of his thoughts quickly. He didn't wanna think about any of this. All he wanted to do was go the Lance's room and give him his helmet. That was all he had to do. All he wanted to do. The only thing he thought he wanted to do.  He ignored these thoughts as he walked down the hallway to Lance's room.

Soon he stood outside the door holding his wrist out to knock. His wrist was inches away from hitting the door. Just inches. A few inches. All he had to do was knock. That was all. Yet, he didn't do it.

Something in his head kept telling him not to do it. It told him that if he went in there he would embarrass himself around his crush again. Like what he used to do when he was super younger. Yet, his heart told him to go in there. To go see the boy that made him feels so happy. The boy who made him feel like he could do anything. Anything at all.

Keith gulped as he opened the door instead of knocking as well. It seemed like a good idea at the time. That is until he saw the room was completely pitch black. The only source of light was all around the room but so dark that Keith could only see the co,our black but, could make out shaped. Meanwhile Lance was standing in front of. A mirror.Keith waited until the door closed behind to speak.

"Hey Lance, you left your helmet in the-" Keith stopped looking forward as Lance turned to look at him. Lance was naked. Seeing this Keith dropped Lance's helmet. This also caused Lance to stare into Keith's bright purple eyes.

Both boy's looked at each other. Unlike Keith's eyes, Lance's were blood shot red from him crying for a while and were looking right into Keith's eyes. Meanwhile Keith's eyes were on at Lance's chest. If his eyes weren't quitting on him and that he wasn't see things. Cause if he wasn't that meant one thing.

Lance McClain had boobs. Boobs. Lance McClain had large completely topless large chest and it was right in front of Keith.

There were so many things wrong with this. For starters this wasn't how Keith imagined seeing Lance top less for the first time left. Secondly, boy's didn't have boobs. They also definitely don't wear girly, fluffy blue panties. It wasn't normal. Unless, that is Lance was-

"Holy shit you're trans." Keith blurted out. Lance looked terrified. So god damn terrified. It looked like he was looking someone standing over him with a knife and was about to stab him. He looked like he was staring death in the face.

Lance just dropped to his knees and buried his face in his hands. He curled up with his knees snuggled into his chest covering those damn lumps that were there. Keith was going to tell everyone. They were all going to make fun of him. It's what kids had done for years. That's why he used to wish for death. Why he tried to die on is own terms by himself! The worst part was he never died. Every time he tried to die someone would save him.

Firsts, it was his mother. She just thought she grabbed her son from walking out in front of a bus by accident. The women never knew what he had meant to do. Next, his oldest sister saved him from jumping off a cliff. His sister just thought he was trying to go cliff diving. The same thing happen six other times where his family and old friends save him. That is until he tried to jump of the schools roof top during the last year of high school when he actually looked like a male. The person who went up there to save him was none other than Hunk. Afterwords he got help and made a new friend.

Life was sorta good afterwards, well at least for a while. That is until other kids picked on him in high school. Things got worse from there. His depression had a larger affect on him. He kept wanting to die daily. Nothing he ever did was good enough to live in his eyes. That is until he was excepted into the garrison. It went back to being better until they went to space. You cane probably guess what happened from there.

All he could think of was to drop down as all these thoughts and memories came back to him. All of them. What the hell was he supposed to say? What was he supposed to do? All he could do was panic internally as he just sat on his knees fighting back tears as though about self damaging words after thought came to his mind.

"Tell everyone. Insult me all you want. I don't care what you think of me anymore." Lance sniffed before breaking down. He started full on sobbing as his eyes only glanced at the binder that was laying next to his feet. Lance was ready for Keith to say anything mean. Some to make fun of him. Hurt him. He didn't expect anything else.

Which made sense as to why he jumped a bit when he felt Keith hug him. Keith just hugged his rival tightly. He of all people shouldn't be judging someone for who they are or their past. After all he was picked on after he came out as a gay.

Lance let out another loud sob as his body shook a bit in Keith's arms. He then began brace himself for Keith trying to hit him. Or trying to slap him. Or hurt him any way possible now. Yet, all Keith did was hug him while trying to comfort him.

"I'm not gonna make fun of you." Keith told him. Lance just continued sobbing as he began to snuggle into Keith's grip while his legs covered his boobs. Keith began rubbing circles on his back in order to try to clam Lance down.

"And if anyone does, tell me and I'll kick their ass." Keith smiled. Lance held Keith's shoulders as he looked at his face. Lance then began laughing a bit before hugging Keith back tightly. While hugging him Lance just went to silently sobbing. Meanwhile Keith was only wondering one thing and one thing only.

"Is it possible to be there for Lance even more then what he's been there for all of us so far?"