#is this a ficlet though idk

[emily-mooon]

I have this headcanon for how Jonathan got into the music he currently listens to and it’s low key wholesome.

I like to think that Hawkins has a local vinyl store that’s family owned. It’s mostly run by a dad and on weekends his teenage son helps out.

In 1979, Jonathan goes there to buy a new vinyl of whatever shit music his so called father listens to after Will scratched it. When he walks in, he hears this dark drawling sound coming from the speakers and immediately he is drawn to it.

The son of the owner takes notice of how intrigued Jonathan is with the music that he put on and decides that when he comes to the counter, he’ll tell them who it is.

When Jonathan does come, the owners son tells him that the bands name is Joy Division and hands him their album, Unknown Pleasures, on vinyl.

Jonathan, while happy that someone noticed his interest, explains to him that he doesn’t have his own record player. The owners son then asks if he has a cassette player and headphones to which he nods. He is then handed the cassette version of the it.

After that day, Jonathan became a regular visitor of the little shop and was introduced to many more bands that would shape him.

[absurddino]

Steve Harrington who braids Eddie's hair after he gets discharged from the hospital and, inevitably, ends up in Steve's house.

It's only for Eddie's benefit, he tells himself. It has nothing to do with the way his shaking hands calm as he repeats the familiar motions he learned from his cousin ten years ago. No, it's because the hair is in the way of his healing. That's why.

And when braiding his hair turns to untangling it. Brushing his fingers through it before guiding Eddie to the bathtub and making him lean back against it, tipping his head backwards so Steve can work shampoo into the roots. That's nobody's business. He's just being a good friend.

(and when the routine never really stops, even after Eddie's mostly healed, neither of them mention it)

(even though Eddie kind of hates how he looks with braided hair)

[walkingstackofbooks]

Tfw you have a "short idea" that turns into an entire beginning of a fic 😅

This was supposed to say "Julian and Data episode where they've been sent to assist on a project together, and get confused for each other. Their colleagues label Julian's oddities as being 'android behaviour', and Data's as 'honestly, augments': Data gets to enjoy being mistaken for a human-- although it's more complicated than simple enjoyment -- while Julian feels... Well. That's complicated too." But I couldn't think of the short version until I'd written most of this XD Enjoy!

--

Julian and Data episode where they've been sent to assist on a project together, and when they arrive, the woman greeting them asks dismissively, "Alright, so which of you's the augment and which is the android?"

Julian responds sarcastically, "It's a pleasure to meet you, too. I'm Commander Data, and this is my colleague, Doctor Julian Bashir," while gesturing towards his pips and Data's uniform colour - but the sarcasm is clearly lost on her, since the woman frowns at them, telling him sternly, "Whoever installed your sense of humour has done a bad job. I don't find wasting time amusing, and if you'd like to work on this project, you need to change back into your correct uniforms and stop playing around."

Data, of course, steps in to resolve this misunderstanding. "What my colleague meant to say is, that he's Doctor Bashir, and I'm--"

The woman cuts him off with a glare. "I've been warned about you, Bashir," she says. "Don't test my patience. Rules are rules here, and I won't have you flaunting them - or leading that android astray, either. Get changed, the pair of you, and report back to me at 1600 -- Ensign Bezerra!"

A short ensign in science blue stops in their tracks, almost seeming to hold their breath as they snap to attention.

"Bezerra will show you where to go," she says, turning back to them.

"Ma'am, just let me--"

"Enough! You might be a commander, but I am the doctor in charge of this project, and I'll thank you to treat me like it. Now, do you want to work on this project or not?"

The answer to that is increasingly becoming uncertain - Julian's excitement had significantly diminished the moment he realised that Lead Doctor Garrat was someone so unpleasant - but for now, both of them nod meekly, and follow the ensign to their quarters.

--

It was an illogical order, but one that his companion seemed set on following. It also seemed that Julian believed he'd won their debate over their next course of action, with his argument that there was no point to causing another argument with Garrat, and that for the meanwhile, they should act their respective parts until they can find someone more reasonable to listen to them.

"It is still against Starfleet regulations, to impersonate another officer," Data reminded Julian for a second time, as the doctor began shrugging off his jacket.

"Orders are orders, Data," Julian replied sharply. "Even stupid ones."

Data nodded, but made no move to begin divesting his own clothes, watching blandly as the doctor continued to undress. A minute later, an angry uniform came flying his way, which his hands automatically reached out to catch.

"Do you want to make more trouble for us?" Julian asked, and Data made his face frown, unsure if his answer would result in more unexpected hostility.

"I am not yet convinced that this course of action will result in "less trouble"," he replied truthfully.

"Oh, for fu--" Julian started, scowling again-- but then caught himself, and sat down heavily on the edge of the bed.

"I'm sorry, Data," he said, his face scrunching in a tell-tale sign of remorse. "It's my fault we've got into this mess, and now I'm not even listening to you. I'm as bad as Garrat."

"I would not call that a reasonable comparison," Data corrected. "You are angry because of an injustice. Lead Doctor Garrat, on the other hand, was..." He waited, pondering for a moment. "I believe that you might say she was 'being an ass'."

Julian snickered, the sound converting immediately into electronic pulses of confirmation: correct, correct, correct. Data had long noticed how humans often found it humourous when he attempted their vernacular, and having found the right combination of words this time, allowed Julian's short laugh to light up his brain.

"I'm not sure I'd be so polite as to leave it at that," Julian replied. "Oh, sod it. Hand me back my uniform, let's go and sort this out. If she sends us home, what have we got to lose, anyway?"

The asnwer seemed obvious. "The chance to research prezenimites in a localized, non-sochoric enviroment. You expounded at great length during our shuttle ride on the importance of the project and your excitement to be a part of its development."

Julian's face twisted in a way that Data could not interpret. His mouth had turned upwards again, but Data was not convinced that it was an honest smile. "Apart from that," Julian said in a softer voice.

"It is likely that if we were sent away at so early a juncture, a note would be placed in our records. In addition, I do not believe that our captains would be pleased we had lost this prestigious placement due to a sarcastic misunderstanding."

Julian groaned. "Dammit, Data - what do you want?"

"Want, Julian?"

Tilting his head, Data waited for the doctor to further explain, but Julian just shook his head and held out an arm. "Just hand me my clothes, Data."

His friend was, Data now registered, still mostly undressed - possibly a fact that had added to Julian's discomfort and agitation. However, he did not comply immediately: he believed that he was beginning to answer his confusion over why the doctor had been so insistent - eager, in his own way - to obey Garrat, despite the seeming senselessness of the order.

"You believe we would face fewer consequences if we pose as each other for a time?"

"Well yes, I do - but that doesn't matter, and I could be wrong anyway. It has been known to happen." Julian grinned widely, sending an array of opposing signals through Data's brain: he knew Julian was not happy.

"I could be wrong, too," Data replied. "I do not have enough information to determine the best course of action. I... have difficulties understanding human behaviour, and I do not understand Doctor Garrat. She seemed to dislike us even before you spoke."

A soft, huffed breath escaped Julian. "The augment and the android, yeah. As though we're so alike as to be practically interchangeable! Not that I think it's bad, to be like you, I mean..."

"I did not take offense," Data assured, turning Julian's words over in his mind. "I find myself, however, interested in a question this situation presents. While I still cannot understand why, it seems that Doctor Garrat's prejudice blinded her against the truth of our identities. I wonder for how long she would continue believing that I were you, and you were me, if we considered that informing her otherwise would be a lost cause."

It took a few moments for Julian to respond, a fact which did not surprise Data: he himself had found this train of thought rather unexpected.

"Hang on - a few minutes ago you were quoting Starfleet regulations at me, and now you want to do what?"

Data was sure there was some logic to his idea. He just hadn't computed it yet.

[setmeatopthepyre]

Pole [@118dailydrabble day 10] [bucktommy | 118 words]

so @sugarpenchant sent me this post and said "there's a bucktommy au in this somewhere I'm sure of it" and then we got to chatting about post-breakup tommy deciding to straight up run to the ends of the earth to distance himself, and, well...

-

It starts as a joke, is the thing.

More accurately, it starts with Lucy dragging him to a cocktail bar, and Tommy moping into his third Sidecar (“Please tell me that's some sort of gay army euphemism”) while he contemplates, for the millionth time, calling Evan.

“So.” Lucy covers his phone with a menu. “Holiday plans?”

“Does researching 'most remote places on earth to wallow' count?”

She sips her Old Fashioned thoughtfully. “Well, if you really wanna get out of cell range, my buddy says they always need pilots in Antarctica.”

It's a joke. No one spontaneously decides to spend the holidays at the South pole.

Two weeks later, his paperwork is filed and he's on his way.

[gayeddie-saved-me]

it’s a selfish thought and arthur knows it because merlin has spent so much time hiding a vital part of his existence, his very being, all because of arthur. so he presses it down into the deepest recesses of himself and focuses on doing everything he can to support merlin, to give merlin the world he deserves. a world where he is free.

but sometimes, when he’s alone in his room surrounded by his endless responsibilities, he will think to himself, i am nothing.

merlin and the old religion hold him as this once and future king, but no matter what they say, he can’t understand why they think any of this is about him. it was never him. everything he’d done, every accomplishment and fight he’d won had never been his to claim. he was a fraud. he was a lonely king with nothing to his name beyond the blood on his hands, the blood staining his every crevice.

he isn’t the once and future king. he doesn’t deserve any of the praise. he is the moon, a piece of rock in the sky that shines only because of the sun. without the sun, the moon is worthless. without the sun, no one would have ever looked at the moon twice.

arthur had never been proud of his mistakes and his inaction when it came to his father’s slaughter, but he had been proud of the things he had done to keep his kingdom and his people safe and healthy and happy. he has fought and fought and fought only to discover he had never even landed a punch. every knockout, every victory he had held up to hide the ugly nothingness of his true, empty self was never his to hold. with the discovery of merlin’s magic, any worthiness he thought he’d earned had slipped through his fingers like sand through a sieve.

merlin is beautiful and powerful. merlin is a god amongst men, a gift given to this world, given to arthur, and for what?

this prophecy for arthur was always about merlin. he carried the weight, he fought and fought and fought and he won, merlin was the one who had carried this kingdom on his back until they reached the safety of the golden era of the current day.

it’s a selfish thought, to be thinking of himself in relation to merlin’s magic when merlin has suffered every single day because of arthur. and yet, in those moments, he can’t help but wonder why he was born at all, why he was named savior of a group of people who would’ve never died if only he had stayed unmade, a whisper of nothingness in his mother’s womb.

his first breath caused a massacre, a genocide, and yet he was given an angel and a title and a prophecy of greatness he could never actually fulfill.

he would never tell merlin about these thoughts he had. merlin would end up feeling guilty somehow, would carry the weight of arthur’s worthlessness even more by taking on the deserved revulsion arthur had for himself.

no, he couldn’t tell merlin about this. merlin would tell him he was wrong, would try to talk him up and fix it. would use that endless kindness to tell arthur endless stories about his own importance. merlin would shine his sunshine on arthur until arthur forgot he was just a lump of rock. he wouldn’t rest until arthur loved himself, until arthur took all the credit for merlin’s own accomplishments again.

no, he would keep this to himself. he would give merlin the attention and love he deserves. this story isn’t actually about arthur pendragon. it never was.

[jessicas-pi]

The only sign of trouble Sabine had was some shouting from an alleyway before she was nearly knocked flat onto the pavement by a pair of boys rushing out into the street.

She'd managed a daring escape from her governess and had been hustling along, head whirling in thought, eager to get to the small coffee-house where her friends were meeting, when this near-collision happened. She staggered backwards, crashing back into a gentleman who caught her by her arms, steadying her, and then turned to berate the fleeting boys for knocking into a lady.

She stepped away from him, towards the alley, intrigued by what they might be running from, and found nothing in the alley but filth and a heap of rags. 

Then, the heap of rags moved.

Gradually, it formed itself into the shape of a ragged boy who had been curled into a ball, seemingly protecting something. He muttered words that would probably have been very foul, if they had been intelligible, and looked around, first down the far end of the alley, and then towards her.

His gaze lit upon her and froze.

She stared right back at him.

His face was smeared with blood.

It dribbled from a cut on his forehead and dripped from his nose. He really looked awful, and she only wondered for a moment why before her blood surged in anger. Those boys must have given him a sound beating.

Sabine stepped forwards, treading lightly through the grimy alley, and crouched down in front of him. She pulled out her handkerchief, offering it to him wordlessly.

He stared at her with wide eyes for a few seconds longer. It was a reaction she was rather used to. She knew she didn't look like most English girls—and not in a way that won her an abundance of admirers.

Except, she realized, as he continued to gaze at her in something that might have even been awe, maybe this time, it just did.

She couldn't say she wasn't flattered, but the staring was getting a little old.

"You're bleeding," she reminded him, holding the handkerchief out to him.

"I'm... Ezra..." he replied, the corner of his mouth twitching up towards a boyish grin. His accent was pronounced, and slightly nasal.

She raised an eyebrow, handkerchief still held out to him.

"I—I sell papers," he stammered, still staring at her. "Those boys—they wanted the money I made, but they didn't get it."

She waved the handkerchief at him a little.

"It's not much," he continued. "But—by gee, I held onto it."

She rolled her eyes and smacked the handkerchief against his red-smeared mouth, stopping up the blood.

"You're a bloody American," she observed with some amusement. "Aren't you?"

If possible, his eyes got wider. He likely wasn't used to high-class ladies using low language. If that was the case, then he ought to meet her friends. They'd give him a shock.

"Well—I guess I am American, and bloody, too." He laughed bewilderedly as he reached up, his fingers brushing against hers as he took the handkerchief from her. He lifted the handkerchief away from his face, glancing at it and then pressing it back to his face. "Golly, I hope you didn't do all this fancy stitching on your own, 'cause it's getting a bang-up dye job right now."

"I didn't—and you can keep it. I don't think I want it back anymore."

The boy looked at her with something like awe. "Gee. Thanks, miss."

She giggled, standing up and offering him her hand. He stood up without taking it, mumbling that he didn't want to get dirt on her nice gloves. 

He was a funny boy, and if she'd had time, she might have talked to him more, but Sabine was on a tight schedule. As it was, she would only have a chance to stop into the coffee-house for a moment to hear the news from Leia and Jyn.

"I must be going now," she said, nodding her head to him as she stepped backwards. "Stay out of trouble, now, paper-boy."

He blinked at her.

"But I—" he stammered. "I don't—know—your name?"

She grinned. If he didn’t know who she was, she wasn’t going to tell him.

"You've got my monogram,” she said, gesturing to the handkerchief as she skipped backwards. “Figure it out!"

Sabine turned, darting across the street. If she hurried, she would get to the coffee-house before Leia finished expressing her opinion of members of Parliament, and those were always worth hearing.

When she reached the other side, she glanced backwards. The boy was standing at the opening of the alley, the handkerchief clutched in his hand as he stared at her. When he saw her looking back, he raised his other hand and gave her a little shy wave.

Sabine grinned and waved back, momentarily caught up by a rash impulse to dash back across the street and invite him along. Americans were rather revolutionary, weren't they? He'd get along well with the girls.

And the girls would be absolutely delighted to learn about my trans-Atlantic admirer, she added mentally. Leia could be a merciless tease when she felt like it, and Jyn would probably jump at the chance for a bit of revenge over Sabine's delighted reaction to meeting her friend.

No... she'd better not risk it.

Shame, though. She rather thought she'd have liked to see more of that boy.

[fizzigigsimmer]

Christmas is dom Billy season. 😉

[millenniumringg]

One of my first ygo fics was a pirate au… Well, I have been developing backstory for stinky pirate captain Bakura and now I can’t stop thinking about him being an angsty, angry teenager LOL

[jodstablet]

Do they never move back in together eventually? 👀

They definitely do! 💞

I think I’m going to scrap my follow up (need more time to decide though don’t hold it against me if I post it later!!!), so take a very rough draft of Gideon’s thoughts & actions toward that end:

Two weeks prior, Gideon interrupted Camilla’s nightly routine with a very serious question.

“Do you think it’s too early to ask her to marry me or something?”

“‘Or something?’ How romantic.” Camilla took a long, stoic drink of camomile tea. “Absolutely it’s too early.”

“Booooo— you know we’ve known each other longer than you and Pal?”

“And you were shoving broken glass into her pointe shoes for well over seventy percent of that ‘knowing each other’ weren’t you?”

Nav groaned, sinking deeper into the uncomfortable barstool. “I hate when you’re right.”

“It’s a naughty habit of mine.”

“Well, how are you and Pyrrha getting on?”

“Quit changing the subject.”

“I’m genuinely asking so I don’t step on toes with the engagement.”

“We’re genuinely not like that.”

“What, in love?”

“Yep.” Camilla stared Gideon deep in the eyes— the shiftless, river-rock stare froze her in place. “Just fucking.”

“Gross!” Nav didn’t need that mental image. Not like it hadn’t surfaced before, but it was still unwelcome. “Do I have to remind you she fucked my mother?”

“She kind of is your mother.”

“Nope! No, no, no way— That’s fucking disgusting, mate.”

“Don’t ask Harrow to marry you. She will say no.”

“I know she’ll say no!”

“Also, you’re in love with her?”

Nav sputtered through a raw, rather sudden and embarrassing bubble of shock. “I never said that!”

Camilla sighed an exasperated sigh. She wiggled from foot to foot, a tell that she was conducting a cost-benefit analysis of the next words to leave her mouth. After a moment, she said: “Just give her a key to the apartment.”

Struck dumb at the possibility, Gideon blinked. “Cam… that’s like, a really good idea.”

Hect’s mouth twisted upward at the corners. “I’m full of them. Next time, I’ll charge you.”

[independent-fics]

Me trying to post a ficlet I wrote MONTHS AGO before tonight’s episode or at least the finale because I have a feeling it will change things but idk why. BUT THEN I FORGET MY NOTES ON IT

[shessoft]

okay so i have a jeep wrangler right and its a thing among each other to wave when we pass by it's literally called the Jeep Wave and in the beginning i was like 'this is culty' and people make having a jeep their entire personality which is still true but honestly when i don't get a wave back i'm like 'well excuse tf outta me then'

Also duck duck jeep guys it’s a whole little culture it’s wild

anyway Regina George (2024) drives a jeep wrangler...(I linked pictures so you can get the whole vibe)

And when she first gets it she doesn’t realize she’s being waved at until Karen points it out one day. She thinks it’s weird and lame. Like “why do I have to acknowledge these losers?” She starts waving back when she’s alone in her car but she'd never admit it.

Eventually she starts initiating the wave out of habit and when the girls give her amused glances she says “whatever it’s just a reflex.”

Karen tries to buy her one of those fake hands to put on her dash but she shuts that down immediately because “gross Karen that’s fucking stupid.”

Suddenly she’s getting road rage when she thinks someone intentionally doesn’t wave back despite Gretchen’s very valid point. “Regina, its dark and rainy, they probably can’t see you over your high beams.” She just complains that she can't see them either but she still waved.

Another time the girls tell her all about the history of the ‘jeep wave’ and that there is a hierarchy according to their intense google search. Regina ignores them as she flips off the driver of a blue jeep instead, mumbling “bitch” under her breath.

Karen buys her a wave decal for her mirror. She lets her put it on.

——

Much to Regina’s chagrin Karen learns what ducking is. “I saw Aaron and his friends covering their goalies jeep in them! So I looked it up and it this whole game-“

“Ugh Karen, no.”

“But it’s so cute, Gina look!” She’s cradling a yellow rubber duck in her hands, dressed in pink and wearing heart sunglasses, in an attempt to coax Regina into letting her duck her jeep.

“It’s very cute, babe, but you’re not putting that on my car. Also, I think you’re supposed to do it secretly…” she trails off when she sees Karen’s mouth drop open the slightest bit.

“Wait, you know about the ducks?” Her surprised expression makes Regina chuckle.

“Yes, Kare I know about the ducks. Why don’t you keep it? It’s too cutesy for me.”

“Oh, okay.”

A week goes by and she starts finding different ducks in various places on her jeep, while Karen insists it’s not her. She just smiles and throws them in her bag trying not to draw attention to it. She still thinks it’s lame but it makes Karen happy. After a year or so Karen stops ducking her jeep all together, because she just forgets about their little game but Regina is fine with it. She still has a tower of ducks in her room wearing ridiculous outfits.

But one morning at the start of senior year she finds a little surprise perched on her driver side mirror. It's a little duck, this time it’s all pink and wearing bunny ears. She feels her eyes sting with the threat of tears when she catches herself smiling. This one she puts on her dashboard for all to see.

She regrets it in the end because now the ducks have come back tenfold. She really has no where to put them but Karen, and now even Janis, are having way too much fun with it. So she keeps her mouth shut. Until one day when she starts to find mini ducks, not just in her jeep but in her house, her locker, honestly anywhere they could think of she finds a mini duck. There are hundreds and she knows this was Janis’ doing. It had to be. She keeps quiet though, slowly collecting them until she has an absurd amount. She’s sure she’ll find more but she easily has almost two hundred collected so she gives them to Janis. She had one of the girls on the robotics team rig a gift box so they would fly everywhere when said box was opened. Janis falling off her seat at lunch made it all worth it. Hearing the girl curse her under her breath while trying to save face as Karen cracked up was the icing on the cake.

—-

Regina also has mirror decals (also gifted by Karen). On her visor mirror it says hello gorgeous. (Or any of these. Honestly there are so many options.) Her rearview mirror says buckle up bitches. And the passenger mirror says passenger princess. For Karen.

Gretchen obviously gets the whole backseat to herself and she controls the aux cord.

Janis gets her this for the back window.

Y'all there are things called easter eggs please Janis would put one on the windshield and see how long it takes Regina to notice.

@erikahenningsen tagging a stranger person because reasons

[vidalinav]

Cassian sucks in a breath at the very look of her, but he holds his arms tighter to his chest.

He won't run to her and hold her like he wants. He won't let his arms be her blanket and he won't gather her to his chest so his heart might be her pillow. She won't rest comfortably where he thinks is safest.

When has she ever been safest with him?

All he has is empty words, empty promises, and maybe his heart is empty too and that's why she won't go to him. If Nesta Archeron is good at one thing, it's spotting a coward when she sees one, and Cassian sleeps with the dogs... any place but where she needs him.

And now, her face is as pale as death, all white and moonlit and once again he's failed her. Her cheeks are flushed red and his fingers itch to run along the bridge of her nose and see if he can't feel how warm she is even as she shivers beneath her throws. But what good would that do when she's so small and fragile, when she's always been too much for this world?

"She's been passed out cold since late last evening, but we didn't know where she lived so we've kept her up here."

"We gave her more blankets, but she kept kicking them off..."

"And we tried to give her soup, but she couldn't keep anything down... she didn't seem to like us feeding her."

That doesn't surprise Cassian in the least. It seems fitting for this female who's brows scrunch up at the mere sound of his voice. As if she finds him distasteful even in sleep.

[mythmagicetc]

"and then i grabbed his stuff and got in the car and we went home!" eddie finishes with a pleased sigh. chris just went to bed, and eddie pivoted his phone a bit so he could keep talking to buck.

buck, whose grin is stretching across his face. "fuck, eddie, that's--that's amazing."

eddie laughs a little, takes a sip of beer. "god, it is, isn't it? i'm so fucking relieved. and hey, i couldn't have done it without you, you know that, right?" he points at buck, though it's probably less effective through the phone screen.

predictably, buck smiles, ducking his head, all bashful and pink. "come on, i didn't--"

"no, hey, you did." it doesn't matter what he was going to say; he did. "it was your voice in my head. god, i could kiss you right now."

and as soon as he says it, eddie's just that much more alert. he hasn't said that before, he thinks. maybe it should be strange. but, well, it's true. so he just smiles around another sip.

"no you couldn't."

what?

eddie swallows roughly, looking back at the screen. "huh?"

buck's face is paler than it had been. eyes wider. not in the begging puppy way it sometimes gets, but...thinner. colder. scared.

he shakes his head. "you couldn't. eddie. you, you couldn't--do that. you wouldn't."

maybe eddie is more drunk than he thought. "what? buck, i--are you okay?"

buck's eyes are closed now. "eddie. please."

[klaissance]

indulgent established klance long-distance boyfriends coalition paladins/BOM keith reunion event GO:

keith gets to the dinner early

he had to ask kolivan to put him on the list as one of the BOM agents going and if that dude ever laughed at anything keith would swear he was laughing at him when he uninvited somebody else to put keith on the list

it's this gorgeous bigass hall with lovely vaulted ceilings and the biggest longest table keith has ever seen

aproned aliens are in set-up mode, scurrying around setting utensils and plates and namecards and chairs all around this table

keith has his mask up and everything and he nods respectfully at some of the staff as he starts to walk the length of the table

it's been too long since he saw the team he knows that and they know it too

he knows they miss him, knows it in his bones that they miss him at least some fragment as much as he aches for them (which is so much all the time)

pidge hacked a touchpad to let it transmit through the signal jammer outfitted at the BOM base so he does get to message and call home sometimes but tbh he's not on-base very often before he's jetting off to the next crazy mission halfway across the galaxy

anyway he's in this hall scanning the namecards and letting his mind wander while he waits for the guests--but mostly his former team--to show up

he finds his own card next to kolivan's, only it just says "blade of marmora guest" anonymous and replaceable, just like usual

allura is set to be seated at the head of the table with the other important people and key speakers

keith smiles despite himself at the thought of allura pacing the halls of the castleship this past week, running through versions of speeches for anyone who will listen

the smile turns into an ache when he thinks of lance, perched on the kitchen counter, legs swinging, or draped across the lounge couch, head tipped off the edge, listening and humming appraisingly at all the right moments

turning those warm brown eyes to the ceiling and pretending to think hard on it when allura asks him if he thinks she's ready

"of course princess" he'd say, placing a hand on her shoulder and squeezing gently

"I think you were born ready"

because lance has always been good at that, at making you feel like the most capable person in the Universe

halfway down the opposite side of this grandiose table, keith finds what he hadn't known he'd been looking for: four name placards right in a row, each labeled with a name and "Paladin of Voltron"

takashi shirogane, pidge holt, hunk garrett, and lance mcclain

keith frowns sourly at the next name, some alien duke or duchess or whatever the fuck, somebody important who has just won the diplomacy dinner lottery by being offered the seat next to the blue paladin

he looks across the table from here to his own seat, looming positively miles away across and down this long ass mcfreaking table

who made this chart anyway???

keith is still grumping about it as people begin to show up and he shrinks a little into himself, scanning the room for those familiar faces, the anticipation buzzing under his skin

he's so lost in the looking that he forgets himself and gets totally ambushed by a voice right up against his ear

"Getting on just as socially as usual, I see"

he whirls ready to FIGHT but it's allura !!! and the relief and joy at seeing her in person for the first time in multiple space-months is such whiplash that he pitches straight into her open arms and holds tight

when he recovers he takes down the mask and squirms awkwardly

allura is gentle and kind, knows he hates the diplomacy part, knows he's only here because he misses all of them, one of them in particular...

they do small talk for a bit, allura growing worse and worse at hiding her amusement as keith continues to turn and stare at the door with increasing frequency

her eyes are sparkling the way they do when she gossips and she asks him point blank "so, you must be excited to see your boyfriend again"

keith's mind goes blank "n-no" yknow like a liar

she's downright snickering at him and he still can't resist scanning the room

she throws him a bone, tells him the other paladins are running late coming back from the parade but will arrive soon

keith is like coolcoolcool no doubt no doubt but really cannot stop staring at the door and feeling like he might throw up and is his hair okay he didn't really think about this before he showed up, hasn't even seen it in actually days because he's had the suit on, and the suit is DUMB what the fUcK--

they get approached by other diplomats from various coalition planets and allura turns on the schmooze

keith checks his touchpad--there are three messages from lance

"SORRY BABE RUNNIGN LATE"

"c u so SOON :3 <33333333"

"*RUNNING"

" :D "

[rogueddie]

continuing Enter Sandman a little as a little celebration for one year 🎉

Steve has always considered himself brave. Especially after fighting interdimensional monsters and helping save the world. The idea that anything could scare him after all of that? Ridiculous.

But, standing in front of a mirror, he feels terrified. He's so anxious that he's sure that he's going to puke.

"You look great," Robin says, coming up behind him.

She's wearing a baby blue dress with a blazer on top, matching his three-piece suit. Not only is her outfit tailored, it's custom made- some big designer that owed Eddie a favor.

"I don't feel great," Steve mumbles. He tugs at the hem of his blazer. "We should have gone for traditional black. This is too much. What if Eddie-"

"Eddie is the one who insisted on color!" Robin reminds him, gently smacking his arm. "He said it's supposed to be a day for both of you, right? Or do you not trust him anymore?"

"Of course I trust him! But I want... I need this to work."

"It will. You look great, everything is ready, it's exactly how both of you want. It's going to be perfect." She grabs his shoulders, gently shaking him. "I will make sure it's perfect- if that means dragging you out by your ear then, damn it, I will."

Steve laughs, gently batting her off him. "Alright, alright, I get it!"

"Do you? Because we don't have long left, we need to get a move on!"

"Yeah, alright," he raises an eyebrow at her, nudging her. "Well, come on then, we don't have all day!"

She throws his hands up, pretending to be annoyed- it's ruined by how her face immediately softens, curling an arm around his. "Come on loverboy, the alter won't wait forever."

The yard is just as beautiful as Steve hoped it would be. El had taken over the organization, insisting that Steve and Eddie can't see it before the big day (the same way she insisted they couldn't see each other the night before).

Steve knew she would do an amazing job, but he's still blown away.

The new place the Byers got is bigger than their previous home in Hawkins- the back yard isn't much bigger though. They had managed to make it work, even with such little space.

Eddie stands at their little make-shift alter, Jeff nudging him when Steve steps out.

He looks beautiful. His suit is a dark blue, near black- but with the sun behind him, illuminating him, it's the perfect shade. His hair is half up in messy braids- Maxs work.

"You ready?" Steves mom asks. She looks awkward, most likely stressed with how harsh Steves father had reacted, but she's there. She's trying.

"Yeah," Steve says. His eyes are glued to Eddie.

"Come on," she laughs, tugging his arm out of Robins grip. "Go ahead, Robbie. I've got him."

Robin gives her a two finger salute.

The music starts up, a second before El skips up beside Robin. She hand her one of the baskets she has, full of white petals.

It's surreal, walking up the aisle. He's surprised that it's not being on this end that's throwing him off- he's been more than happy to be the one to walk up the aisle, and actually doing so isn't changing that.

No, it's that he's actually getting married. He's finally getting his happy ending and it's to someone he loves. To someone who loves him.

He feels like he's underwater, stuck in a dream- he's relieved that they agreed with El about doing the 'usual' vows, not a personal version or speech, when he finds himself repeating the vows Hopper on autopilot.

Robin gives his hand a squeeze when she gives him one of the rings.

"I love you," he can't help but whisper. It's worth it, to see Eddies smile get so big and bright.

"I love you too," he whispers back, as he slides Steves ring on.

Hopper clears his throat, giving them both pointed looks- something that has the crowd tittering. He lifts the little notebook, continuing to read out the vows.

He pauses, at the last line, looking up and grabbing Steves shoulder. His voice is a little choked when he continues; "is it my privelage to pronounce you husband and husband." He jerks his head towards Eddie. "Kiss your man."

Steve manages to hold his laughter in, just long enough to kiss Eddie. Luckily, Eddie also bursts into laughter when they pull apart.

Dustins cheering is the loudest.

Eddie pulls him close to his side with a hand on his waist, their friends swarming them with love and congratulations. He leans close, so Steve can hear him over the noise; "is it everything you dreamed of?"

"Better."

[fearandhatred]

i have one of those word prompts left to do but i am blanking omg