#keith in the corner: hello

[sanguineterrain]

Hello madame terrain, I have been thinking about boxer!jason for some time now and I'm wondering if you have any thoughts about him? if not that's totally okay too ☺️ love all your writing!!!

lol hi, madame terrain is adorable 💕 also boxer jason is big brained!!! let's do it ;)

boxer!jason todd x gn!reader. reader is an apprentice to a ringside doctor (leslie thompkins). tw creepy OMC intimidates reader, jason protects/defends r, fluff, my attempt at boxing stuff.

****

Leslie said she'd be back in an hour.

You're currently at the thirty minute mark, hoping for a natural disaster, an angel, anything, because...

"Doc gives me stuff for my pain all the time," Keith says for the third time. "It's real simple."

Keith Dixon is one of the gym's regular fighters. You haven't seen enough matches to judge his fighting, but you can confidently say that his people skills are in the toilet.

He'd barged into the office ten minutes ago and had refused to leave even when you said Leslie was out.

You need to make a break for it.

"You have to wait for Dr. Thompkins," you say, lifting your chin. You won't give in and risk losing this job. No way in hell. "I can't administer medications. I'm not licensed."

Keith rolls his eyes. He's a hothead, new to Gotham. Likes to fight. Likes to fight mean.

"Look, you're new. I'm just giving you a heads-up on how things work around here," he says, backing you up further. You're nearly against the wall.

Where the hell is Leslie?

"I'm sorry, Mr. Dixon, but I can't prescribe painkillers without her supervision."

"Uh-huh. Know what I think? I think you're just not cut out for the ring," Keith says, cornering you against the cabinet. "Cute thing like you shouldn't be hiding in an office. The Doc ought to know better..."

"Is there a problem?"

The new voice makes you flinch, just a little. Keith pulls back, posture easy but guarded. The second guy holds himself similarly. He's also well-built, clad in a gray tee and black sweatpants. His hands are wrapped.

"J-man," Keith says, daggers in his teeth. "Man, I thought you were benched for the week. You meet our new assistant? They're still getting used to how things run around here."

The mystery man looks at you. His eyes are a lovely teal.

"Is he botherin' you?" he asks.

"I—" You swallow. "I was just explaining to Keith that I can't administer medicine without Dr. Thompkins."

Keith huffs. "Jason, tell 'em how this works."

Jason faces Keith. They nearly match each other in height and bulk. You hope to God they don't decide to brawl here and now.

"I think you're the one who needs a reminder, Dixon," Jason says coolly. "Seems pretty straightforward to me. You need to wait for the Doc. So was there something else you needed?"

Keith's mouth presses into a line. You can tell he's got about a hundred ugly thoughts on his tongue right now.

"Nope," he grits out.

"Mm. Then step off."

Keith obeys. You slip out of the corner.

"I'll come back," he says.

"When the Doc's here," Jason adds. It doesn't sound like a suggestion. "If y'need a reminder of her schedule, I don't mind giving you one."

Keith looks at you. You hold his gaze, heart pounding.

"Of course," he says, all false charm, and pushes past Jason. "See ya in the ring, J.T."

You can't relax even after Keith leaves. Jason remains in the doorway. You close your eyes at the thought of dealing with another fighter. It's not bad with Leslie here, but this is your first time alone. It's already a disaster.

Obviously, none of the fighters respect you like they respect Leslie, even after three weeks of you working here. You don't even know all of the fighters.

"Hey." Jason doesn't move from his spot as he asks. "Y'okay?"

"Yes," you say, keeping your back straight. "I'm fine. Do you need medical attention?"

"I just came to get some more wraps. But I can get 'em at home."

His voice is softer now that Keith's gone.

"No need," you say. "That's what I'm here for."

You get a roll of tape from the drawer. It takes you three tries to pull the edge out. You drop it twice.

You feel Jason's eyes on you. You keep pulling the tape, but it won't comply.

"I got it," he says. "I can wrap myself. Toss it here."

You pause, tape half unfurled. "Dr. Thompkins told me to do all wraps myself."

"Leslie's cool. I won't tell her, anyway."

You shake your head. "Why don't you want me to wrap your hands?"

Jason glances to the side. He leans against the doorframe, purposely casual.

"'Cause Keith's a big guy. And I'm a big guy. And your hands are still shaking."

You tighten your grip on the tape.

Jason gestures to the office. "This is your space. I won't come in if you don't want me to. That's not how this works."

"It's... it's the job," you say, startled. "I don't—I've heard that Keith's rough with everybody."

"Yeah, well, he's an asshole. You shouldn't have to be rough back. Good fighters turn it off outside of the ring. I don't want to make you feel small. Alright?"

Tension bleeds out of your spine. You no longer feel like prey.

"It's easier if I wrap them for you," you say, and turn your back on him to fetch the antiseptic.

The tiles behind you creak as Jason hesitates for a moment. Then he walks in and sits in a chair, so you're higher than him.

He looks up at you. He really does have beautiful eyes. His eyelashes are dark and delicate. There's a faded bruise on his cheek.

He's boyishly handsome, with a mouth that looks like it smiles a lot.

"Do you also fight here?"

He nods. "Since I was eighteen. Been here a while."

You take one of his hands in both of yours. Jason's already thrown out the old tape. His knuckles are cut up. They're covered in scars. His fingernails are short and neat.

His hands are big, far bigger than yours. Veins feed into each other from the backs of his hands up his forearms.

You take out the antiseptic spray.

"Might be cold," you warn.

"'S okay."

You spray his skin. Jason doesn't even flinch.

"Your hands are really soft," he says.

"Oh, thank you. I use Isley's Salve. Works great."

Why did you share that?

Jason's mouth quirks. "Yeah? Might have to try that. My hands have seen better days."

"I have some in my bag." You let go of the half-done wrap and dig through your backpack. You pull out the small tube of salve and squeeze some onto his hands.

Jason is quiet and still as you rub in the lotion. He's pliant as you finish the wraps, letting you turn his hands over. You pull the wraps tight.

"All done," you say, face suddenly warm like you've been caught doing something you weren't supposed to.

He flexes his hands a few times. "Thanks. You're good. I can see why Leslie chose you as her apprentice."

You shrug. "Anybody can wrap hands."

"Dunno. I've seen some pretty shit wraps in my time."

"Oh. Well, um, I'm here most of the time, so feel free to come by and get your wraps changed."

He hums. "Sure. Don't worry 'bout Keith. I'll take care of it."

Your eyes widen. "I don't want more trouble..."

"You won't get trouble, I promise. We don't tolerate that here. 'Sides, he's overstayed his welcome."

You nod. "Okay. Thank you, Jason."

"No need for thank you's. Y'alright getting home?"

"Yes, I'm okay. Leslie's dropping me."

Jason nods, then picks himself up. He pauses like he wants to say something else, but he strides out of the room like he's in a rush instead.

"Well, um. G'night," he says over his shoulder. "Take care."

It's about fifteen more minutes until Leslie returns.

"Everything alright?" she asks in a tone that tells you she already knows the answer. "I ran into Jason on my way in. He said Keith Dixon gave you some trouble. I'm sorry I took so long. Are you alright?"

"You ran into—I thought Jason went home for the night."

Leslie looks like you've just told her the sky is red. "He wanted to make sure you were okay. So he waited till I came back. Are you okay? Did Keith hurt you?"

You shake your head. "No, I'm alright. Just shaken up. He's a bully. Wanted painkillers."

Leslie frowns. "He won't bother you again. I'll make sure you're not alone."

"It's okay. I mean, Jason was there."

She nods. "Mm. He's a good boy. I know his father."

"Yeah, he, uh, was nice. I wrapped his hands."

Leslie raises an eyebrow. Your shoulders rise.

"What?" you ask. "You said to practice my wraps."

She shrugs. "Nothing, nothing. I did tell you that. I'm glad you got some practice in."

You follow her to her car. Soon, Leslie pulls out of the lot.

"Leslie, do you mind if we stop at CVS?"

"Sure. What for?"

You feel for the little tube in your pocket.

"Need more Isley's Salve... I'm, uh, running low."

[heavilycaffeinatedsblog]

I was so happy to be part of @klance-daydreams's Klance Secret Santa! I was given @linipik and wrote a lil ficlet about Christmas Eve with klance and the gang :)

Merry Christmas!

Under the swell of Christmas music, Lance heard the clear sound of a puppy going somewhere they shouldn’t.  He snickered at the sound of Keith’s frustrated groan from the living room.  “Again?” He called. “Again,” Keith grunted along with the sound of jingling ornaments. “Kosmo, down.” Lance smiled as he listened to Kosmo’s soft whine and the scratch of his paws as he was tugged back from shoving his face into the Christmas tree. “God, he’s obsessed,” Keith sighed.  “He learned it from me,” Lance said proudly. When he told Keith, and by proxy Kosmo, to arrange the presents around the Christmas tree, he figured something like this would happen.   Eager paws slapped against the linoleum and Lance’s smile widened as he felt a small, wet nose brush against his ankle.  Lance looked down and smiled. “Hello, angel.” The Husky panted happily, tongue sticking out as he blinked at Lance.  “Don’t encourage him,” Keith grumbled, voice coming closer. Lance smiled when he felt arms wrap around his waist. “Smells good,” Keith murmured.  “I would hope so, considering that’s all it’s supposed to do,” Lance gave the cranberries, oranges, and cinnamon another stir. “It’s a simmer pot.” Keith’s chin dug into Lance’s shoulder as he peered over. “Hm.” “Now, what is that?” Lance said, turning in Keith’s arms to arch an eyebrow. “What?” Keith laughed, tugging lightly at the belt loops in Lance’s jeans.  “That felt like a judgy hm.” “I would never judge you and your simmer pot,” Keith said teasingly.  “Good, because your best boy is obsessed with it,” Lance said, waving the ladle to where Kosmo was sniffing eagerly next to the stove. Keith shook his head in disbelief, clicking his tongue and guiding Kosmo back into the living room. It was Christmas Eve. They were hosting a Christmas party for their friends and Lance was pretty determined to make it perfect. Keith was being his standard, endearing self and had Lance take the helm. Lance smiled a little to himself, already envisioning how Keith would happily hover in the corners of the party, taking people’s plates and refreshing drinks while Lance entertained front and center.  That was why they worked so well.  The Christmas tree rattled again.  “Kosmo, we are going to fight.” *** Christmas music rolled into the living room. There was a steady hum of people laughing  and chatting, the clink of wine glasses and beer bottles. The simmer pot was doing its God given duty and making the place smell like a winter wonderland.  Lance noticed Keith paused to study the pot with interest on several occasions and made a mental note to tease him about his intrigue later. Pidge and Hunk were leading a competitive game of Christmas charades, Hunk miming what looked like a sleigh ride.  Shiro, Adam, Allura, and Romelle were shouting out random guesses, ranging from chopping down a Christmas tree to driving in the snow. Keith was leaning against the wall behind them, watching with a small, content smile. But Lance could see the beginning of a competitive flicker in his eye.  Lance paused, let his heart clench as he watched his boyfriend, and then put Hunk out of his misery. “Sleigh ride.”  Hunk dropped, exhausted. Keith shot his boyfriend a challenging look, a smile growing. Hunk mimed lifting something light and hanging it.  “Decorating a Christmas tree!” Keith fired out. “Oh Jesus,” Shiro groaned. “You’ve set them off now.” Keith was leaning forward, watching Hunk like a hawk as he read the next piece of paper.  After a moment of thinking it over, Hunk acted as if he ate something and grimaced. Lance stared at him cluelessly. “Fruitcake!” Keith shouted suddenly.  Hunk looked impressed, nodding as he grabbed another piece of paper. He dramatically shivered. “Cold!” Lance shouted. “Snowing!” Keith followed.  Hunk tapped his nose and mimed smoking a pipe. “Scrooge!” “Snowman?” Allura asked.  Hunk tapped his nose. “Frosty the Snowman!” Keith and Lance bellowed. 

*** “I will sever your head and put it on a post if you don’t move.”  As their friends gasped and laughed, Keith threw on a cheeky grin from where he sat on the last chair. They were both crammed on the seat, their hips shoved against each other’s as they attempted to push the other off the chair. Keith had the advantage, smart enough to grab the other side of the chair so he was actively pulling himself to the other side. Lance was hanging off the edge, losing ground quickly.  Lance tried stopping on Keith’s feet, but the idiot was clever enough to keep his boots on, so Lance’s glittery Christmas socks did little damage. Keith’s cheeks were flushed from eggnog and his smile was wide and loose and he looked a little too gorgeous.   Lance eyed him, wondering how dirty he could play this without scandalizing their friends. They were all laughing, crammed together on the couch and methodically placing bets on who woud lose.  They were playing a type of musical chairs. The last person on a chair would get the $50 VISA gift card hanging on the Christmas tree. Shiro and Hunk were the first ones out, not nearly as savage as the others. Allura nearly tripped Romelle trying to get her out of a chair, Pidge looked close to biting Lance at one point, and now Lance was debating using his body to get what he wanted.  “Don’t,” Keith was grinning darkly now, as if reading Lance’s mind. “It’s Christmas.”  Lance weighed his options. “I’ll do the dishes.” Keith huffed dismissively at that, pushing himself further.  “And I’ll take Kosmo out to poop tonight!” Lance said, desperation sneaking through.  It was supposed to be hideously cold that night and Keith had already been bemoaning having to scoop up Kosmo’s poop out of the snow. “Not worth it,” Keith was smirking now. Lance could have surrendered. But his competitive streak was called a streak for a reason.  “Fine, how about this?” Lance leaned forward and whispered something in Keith’s ear.  Keith’s smug smile dropped as his neck flushed pink. He instantly stood, letting Lance triumphantly slide onto the chair fully.  Their audience on the couch erupted.  *** With only a few curses and confused barks, Keith successfully got the Christmas sweater over Kosmo’s head.  He grinned triumphantly as Kosmo’s tail thumped against the ground. “I think he likes it.” “I would hope so,” Lance leaned against the doorframe. “You were bloodthirsty in that game.” “The only way to play White Elephant is seriously,” Keith said with a wry smile, getting to his feet and reaching for Kosmo’s leash.  “Don’t clean up without me,” he reminded Lance, giving him a short peck on the lips before leaving Kosmo towards the door. With an excited bark, they were out the door. Lance stretched, yawning as he surveyed their kitchen. There was a sizable stack of dishes and glasses, a trash bag full of wrapping paper from the White Elephant game, but other than that, there wasn’t much to clean. Still, Keith had a weird thing about sharing the chores, so Lance instead moved to tidy up the living room. He found himself smiling widely, heart full from an evening with friends.  With a sigh, he sank onto the couch, staring up at the ceiling. He imagined the rest of his night. Keith would return and maybe could be convinced to push back cleaning the kitchen a little longer. They could lay on the couch and watch the fire and talk in low, hushed voices, and watch until it was Christmas. Lance felt like dishes would be easier in the early hours of Christmas rather than the end of Christmas Eve.  Then they would go to bed, not rushed, a little lazy, and would spend the morning quiet and calm, curled together with coffee and Kosmo, and then they would load up the car with too many presents because Lance got carried away as he always does, and then go to his family’s house. It all felt perfect, like he had finally caught something he had been reaching for. It was like a dream.  Lance smiled as the door opened. 

[striveattemptfail]

maybe it's a little too early (to know if this is gonna work) | Logan Howlett/Wade Wilson, 5.2k, M

@poolverine-week: Day 6 – Sharing Clothes

Summary: Five times Wade steals wears Logan's clothes, and one time Logan wears Wade's suit. Rated for allusions to sex, but nothing explicit. Takes place some time after the movie’s events; assume Logan and Wade are back-up X-Men. Read on Ao3

A/N: Thank you to B @broosepayne for helping out with random details + thank you to @fuckselfloveihatemyself for suggesting "impersonation" for the final scene. Shout out to the Manga Hoes server for listening to me bitch about finishing this fic lol. Un-beta'd and I apologize /o\ Title from You Look Good In My Shirt by Keith Urban—just be grateful I didn't give this fic the exact same name lmaooo

❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛

[ Wardrobe Status: Nothing / Wearing Wade’s Clothes ]

The first morning he wakes up in Wade’s timeline—his new universe—Logan has on nothing but a t-shirt with the sleeves ripped off and a pair of highlighter pink Hello Kitty boxers. He desperately needs something to wear aside from what are basically undergarments because he came into this world with nothing but his X-Men suit.

Or what’s left of it anyway.

Which is why, once he finally gets up from the pull-out bed, he sees Wade trying on the jacket that the TVA gave him after they destroyed the Time Ripper. Wade is in front of the only full-size mirror in the apartment, twisting his body every which way to inspect the jacket.

Then, he catches Logan’s reflection in the mirror.

“Morning, peanut!” he greets, turning around to face him with a smile. “I’m trying this on to see how it fits on me.”

“Uh, yeah. I see that,” Logan says with brows furrowed. “Why?”

“I was thinking about grabbing you some clothes but need a reference for your size.”

“Bub, that jacket is too big even for me.”

“...okay, yeah,” Wade eventually concedes, “but it’s the only thing you own that isn’t shredded to pieces from the Time Ripper.”

Unfortunately, the moron has a point. As it is, the boxers Wade loaned him are a bit tight on his waist, and the collar of the shirt is snug on his neck, but it’s not like Logan’s in any position to complain.

“I have to swing by Target to grab supplies for Dogpool anyway,” Wade continues before making kissy faces at the dog in question. “We need to get you some treats, huh, little missy? Yeah! And then we’ll get honey badger some clothes that actually fit him!”

And, well, it’s not like Logan is keen on stepping outside of this apartment in the brightest colour he’s ever worn in his over 200-year existence. It’s also not like he even has the funds to buy himself a hotdog from the street vendor around the corner, much less purchase anything for a new wardrobe. So if Wade wants to go out and buy some clothes for him, Logan isn’t going to stop him.

He grunts his assent as he makes his way to the kitchen, muttering a gruff Fine as he starts on a cup of coffee.

Later, when Wade leaves for Target, Logan grabs the now tossed aside TVA jacket.

If he happens to take a sniff of it once Wade’s out the door (inhaling the scent of cloyingly sweet body wash, hot sauce, and something Logan is fast recognizing as Wade), it’s simply because he wants to know whether it already stinks after yesterday’s events.

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[ Wardrobe Status: One Load of Staples ]

Luckily for Logan, Peter and Dopinder volunteered to help Wade clothes shop when he went to Target. Apparently, Wade wanted to buy all sorts of brightly coloured cutesy shit—like much of his own clothing, allegedly so the two of them could match—but Peter and Dopinder manage to rein him in and grab a few staples. T-shirts, jeans, sweatpants, boxers, socks, and a pair of shoes that’ll fall apart in about a month if Logan has to guess.

It’s enough for him to survive on until he can buy more clothes, and enough to produce a load of laundry once the day arrives. Luckily, the apartment has a washer-dryer combo in the unit, so he finishes the single, meagre load of clothes he owns in no time. He’s bringing them to the bedroom to put away when he finds Wade already inside, standing there in nothing but the smallest pair of tighty-whities Logan’s ever seen on a man.

“What the fuck,” is all he can say.

“Hey, honey badger!” Wade greets, normal as ever, as if he’s not exposing miles of skin and taut muscle that Logan would love to—

He messily dumps his clothes onto the bed, scowling at Wade.

“Why the fuck are you naked?” he demands.

“Oh, please, I’m hiding all the goods,” Wade brushes him off. He turns back to the heap of clothes on the hamper, presumably to find something that doesn’t smell like wet dog or weeks old nastiness.

Shit. The damn briefs aren’t even large enough to completely cover Wade’s ass, and Logan can see a hint of cheeks peeking through.

“Fuckin’ hell.” Logan rolls his eyes, hoping that his frown hides the conflict inside him.

With a smirk that can only spell trouble, Wade faces him again to thumb at the waistband of his underwear. “Would you rather I take them off?”

Logan snarls, averting his gaze to the small mound of clothes he has to put away. He angrily starts folding things, breath coming out in huffs that he hopes convey annoyance.

“Jeez, who pissed in your coffee this morning, kitty cat?” Wade complains, letting go of the waistband. “It’s not like I’m rubbing one out in front of you.”

“Shut the fuck up, bub,” Logan spits, throwing down another folded shirt.

The problem—like most things—is because of Wade.

It’s hard enough to share any amount of space with him, much less sleep in the same bed together every night, and Logan’s only a man. He might be too proud to admit it out loud (especially to a blabber mouth like Wade), but god fucking damnit somehow the fucker’s gotten under his skin. He makes Logan crave for more than innocently spooning in the early hours of the morning, want more than stolen glances when he thinks Wade isn’t looking.

It doesn’t help that Wade flirts with him constantly. People used to chastise Logan for how aggressively he pursued Jean back in the day. Now, he knows it’s nothing compared to the constant boner Wade has towards anything that speaks to him.

Logan needs to stop this train of thought—thinking about Wade’s boner is only going encourage his own.

“So, why are you naked?” he asks, probably angrier than acceptable for a conversation like this but, fuck, does Wade bring out the asshole in him.

“Technically, I’m not—”

“Fine, almost naked, you annoying prick.”

He looks up to find Wade with narrowed eyes, shooting him a dubious look that can only say, Are you serious?

“Obviooouslyyy,” he drawls out, rifling through the hamper again, “I thought I had more clothes left.”

Logan looks at the mountain Wade’s digging through. “Wait, you’re completely out of clean clothes? How the fuck did that happen?”

“I don’t know!” Wade throws his hands up in exasperation. “Ask the author!”

“I have no idea what that means,” he admits. “Anyway, why are you only in underwear?”

“What? You want me to steal some of Blind Al’s shit?” Wade pauses then, clearly mulling it over. “Actually, now that I think about it, her tracksuits would look great on me. They’d fit like baby clothes on a high schooler but it could be like a Y2K revival. Juicy Couture à la Wade. I’d smell like mothballs and old lady all day but it’d be worth it, I think!” He ends the rambling with a toothy grin.

Logan doesn’t dignify that with a response. He scrubs a hand over his face with a sigh.

“Just... put on some damn clothes, bub.”

“Fine.”

Wade—probably in an attempt to piss him the fuck off, as usual—stares at him with a piercing gaze, maintaining eye contact with Logan as he grabs a white t-shirt from the folded pile and slides it on.

Logan just glares at him, jaw clenching tight.

The worst part is that he’s not even mad that Wade’s grabbing shit that he just folded. For some fucking reason, there’s a small but very loud part of Logan deeply satisfied to see Wade in his clothes again. He hasn’t worn anything of Logan’s since trying on the TVA jacket that first day home, but seeing him in one of Logan’s tees is apparently doing something for him.

Wade spins in place, and Logan notices that the hem of the t-shirt barely covers Wade’s crotch, skims the peak of Wade’s pert ass. Once he faces Logan again, he pinches the sides of the shirt like he’s holding a skirt, dipping into a small curtsy.

“Is that better, oh, prudent majesty?” he taunts.

Logan finally snaps.

Before he’s even conscious of it, he’s striding over to where Wade is still staring at him, his expression turning confused though still playful.

“Woah, big boy, I didn’t think you’d be that pissed—”

Logan grabs his face and cuts him off with a kiss, Wade making a surprised noise against his mouth before finally kissing back. Even though Logan is leading, Wade still gives as good as gets, his tongue darting into the cavern of Logan’s mouth when he gasps for air. He’s not sure how long they suck face for, but when Logan finally pulls away, a satisfied noise rumbles through his chest at Wade’s stunned but amused face.

“Finally got you to shut up,” Logan teases, words coming out shallow and thin.

“Oh, it’ll take a lot more than that, old man,” Wade quips back, and another purr builds in Logan’s chest when he hears the gravel in Wade’s voice. Wade throws his arms over Logan’s shoulders and crashes their lips together again.

Neither of their laundry gets finished for a long while after that, both of them too caught up in seeking pleasure from each other. Most of Logan’s freshly laundered clothes lie wrinkled on the bed for hours until he remembers to put them away. Wade doesn’t even start on his own laundry until Logan tells him that Althea would definitely kick his ass if he wore her stuff.

But he continues wearing Logan’s shirt until his own clothes are finally clean, so Logan can’t complain at all.

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[ Wardrobe Status: Half Complete + A New Suit ]

They’re suiting up for an X-Men mission when Wade snatches the Wolverine cowl before Logan can put it on. He’s still in the middle of zipping up when he spots Wade grabbing it out of the corner of his eye, and he doesn’t even need to turn around to know that the dipshit’s already wearing it.

“Give it back,” he says absentmindedly, buckling in the last straps of his suit.

He turns around and shoots Wade a flat look, correct in his assumption that Wade put it on. Typical Wade, he’s wearing his Deadpool mask underneath the Wolverine cowl.

“How do I look?” Wade asks, voice lilting with anticipation.

He looks like someone threw up primary colours on his head and decided to call it a mask.

“You look like someone threw up primary colours on your head and decided to call it a mask.”

Wade gasps, clearly offended. “Rude!”

Logan rolls his eyes. “Just hand me my fuckin’ cowl, bub.”

“Mmmmm, no.”

He never makes shit easy. Logan can only sigh.

“Wade, we gotta leave for the mission brief,” Logan reminds him. They’re about to leave on time for once, and that never happens. “Gimme my goddamn cowl.”

Wade ignores him, as he often does, sauntering over to Logan with a sway in his hips, and Logan quirks a brow at him. He knows what that walk means, and suddenly heading to the X-Mansion for a mission is becoming the last thing on his mind.

Wade drapes his arms over Logan’s shoulders, and Logan automatically places his hands on Wade’s hips. Even beneath both masks, Logan can tell that Wade is waggling his non-existent eyebrows at him once they’re pressed close together. “Wanna inspect the wind resistance on these blowjob handles yourself, peanut?”

Logan snorts. “No, because I don’t wanna see my own mask sucking my dick.”

“Aww,” Wade whines, and Logan can hear the pout in his voice even if he can’t see it, “you’re no fun!”

“‘Sides,” Logan murmurs in his ear, low and sultry, as he pulls Wade closer, “I like seeing your face when we’re together, bub.”

He moves a hand from Wade’s waist to slightly lift his Deadpool mask at the collar. He then ducks his face into the curve where Wade’s neck meets shoulder, mouthing at the now exposed skin there. He smirks when he feels the catch in Wade’s throat.

“I thought we had to leave for the mission brief?” Wade mocks, but it comes out breathy and very pleased by the turn of events.

Logan hums mischievously, nipping at Wade’s neck. “Don’t give a shit anymore.”

“Cool cool cool,” Wade babbles, body pressing against Logan’s, all hot and eager. “I just—oh, fuck, honey badger—I was just thinking—”

“If yer thinking, then I ain’t doin’ this right,” he grumbles, words starting to slur together because there’s something else he’d much rather be doing with his mouth. The hand he still has on Wade’s waist travels to his crotch. Wade bucks his hips into Logan’s open palm with a husky groan, already half-hard.

“You’re doing everything so, so right,” Wade gasps, hips rutting into his grip. “It’s just—ngh—you better be the one taking off this suit, because I did not spend five whole minutes and half a thing of baby powder squeezing my ass into it just to—oh, shit!—strip it off again.”

With a final lick to his pulse point, Logan pulls away just enough to look at Wade. He smirks at the way Wade is panting, puffs of breath hitting his face in needy bursts despite the fabric covering Wade’s mouth.

“I gotta take off your clothes?” he confirms. Wade nods jerkily. “S’not a problem with me.”

And he drops to his knees, unbuckling Wade’s utility belt to do just that.

They do eventually get to the X-Mansion—just 30 minutes late, and they completely miss the briefing. Colossus looks at both of them in disappointment when he relays the abridged version of the mission objectives while they fly to their destination on the X-Jet. Frankly, Logan only half listens to the giant, completely unapologetic in his lack of focus. Being distracted is well worth it as he mulls over the events of the past hour.

Because Logan discovers that, while he might not get off on seeing his own cowl blowing him, he doesn’t mind when he’s on his knees looking up to see it thrown back in pleasure.

At least as long as Wade’s the one wearing it.

❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛

[ Wardrobe Status: Signature Items Acquired ]

The next time they leave together, it’s to meet Vanessa and Dermot for bowling. Logan’s ready before Wade is, waiting in the living room because apparently how long it takes Wade to decide on an outfit completely depends on how he’s feeling.

Thankfully, today isn’t too awful. He’d only worn the Deadpool mask in the morning because he, quote, “felt like skewered chicken intestines,” and nearly cancelled on bowling altogether. But after an orgasm from Logan and cuddling from Mary Puppins, his mood had turned around.

All of which means that Wade is now in a mad dash pulling an outfit together. Logan knows better than to try and help him or force him to hurry up, so he’s left on the couch quietly grumbling to Mary about how he thinks Wade looks good in basically everything he wears.

He’s proven absolutely right when Wade finally steps out of the bedroom. Logan barely registers the full outfit because he’s completely focused on one item.

“How do I look?” Wade asks with a sly grin, walking over to the mirror to inspect himself. He twirls in front of his reflection while smoothing down the leather of the jacket he’s wearing.

Logan’s jacket.

He’s unable to put words together with the way his brain is currently short-circuiting. He grunts in response anyway, knowing that Wade will keep talking even if he doesn’t reply verbally.

He’s proven right yet again because Wade continues without missing a beat. “You think I should switch styles? Give yours back and get my own? Jackets aren’t really my thing though... Oh! What if I got a cape instead? It’d help for ‘no capes’ AUs to actually shed a cape, huh? Has there ever been a DP with a cape? I don’t remember seeing one when we fought the Corps.”

He hums a contemplative sound as Logan stands up from the couch, making his way over to Wade.

“Maybe I need to test trial this,” he continues to ramble, “maybe I can borrow Cable’s shawl-cape thing!”

Even Logan is surprised when he immediately interrupts Wade’s babbling with a stern: “No.”

Wade’s eyes snap to his, confused by the sudden harshness and increased volume in his tone. He makes a questioning noise and shoots Logan a displeased look.

Remembering that Wade will only ramp up how annoying he is if Logan bosses him around, he shakes his head and tries again. “I mean, just—you can, uh, keep mine.”

He clears his throat, eyes darting away to take in how the jacket fits on Wade. It’s a little loose on him, a little too broad because Logan’s chest is a bit wider than his, but it sits well on his frame nonetheless. After awkwardly patting Wade on the shoulder, Logan’s hand slides to Wade’s bicep, then down to cuff where Logan thumbs at the leather there. His fingers bump Wade’s hand and he feels electrified by the touch.

When their eyes meet again, Logan’s relieved to find Wade’s face as red as his own cheeks feel. He’s not entirely sure who leans in first but their lips meet halfway. The kiss isn’t demanding or dirty, neither of them trying to turn it into something that would lead to sex for once. It’s different from when they usually make out, just soft and lingering, and Wade gasps when Logan’s tongue gently licks at the seam of his lips.

At some point, they wrap their arms around each other, because when they finally part for air Wade’s cupping Logan’s jaw and his hands are on the small of Wade’s back.

He eventually grumbles out, “Keep it, it suits you.”

“Oh.”

It takes a moment for Wade to shake the dazed look off his face, but he recovers by flashing Logan a knowing grin. Logan rolls his eyes fondly.

Of course, the little shit did it on purpose. He should’ve known the moment Wade stepped out with that giant smile.

Afterwards, when they finally meet with Vanessa and Dermot at the bowling alley, Vanessa’s smirk and raised eyebrow are well worth it because Wade keeps the jacket on.

❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛

[ Wardrobe Status: Full Closet ]

Logan’s been gone for almost a month because of an extended X-Men mission. Between stakeouts, recon, strategizing, and actually nabbing the bad guy, it’s the longest he’s been away since Wade and Althea’s apartment became his home.

He walks in and unceremoniously dumps his duffle bag and the rest of shit by his shoes, throwing his keys on the sidetable by the door. Despite it being well into the afternoon, the apartment is surprisingly quiet. He figures Althea is out for “bingo” (likely a coke exchange) but Wade and Mary Puppins’ lack of noise makes him suspicious.

Until he hears the snoring.

He pads over to the pull-out bed to find Wade and Mary napping together. Wade’s curled around her, snoring with his face buried in her very sparse amount of fur, and Mary’s tongue sticks out as she huffs out quiet, little snuffles of her own.

But what catches Logan’s attention is Wade wearing one of his flannels.

It’s one of the thickest he owns, made for colder weather and blistery autumn breezes, a dusty yellow and blue with snap buttons. It’s large on him—like everything else Logan owns whenever Wade wears his clothes—but this particular flannel is loose on Logan, so the fabric almost drowns Wade in a pattern of faded checks.

And like every time the moron steals his crap to wear, Logan’s stomach flips in a way he can no longer ignore.

He’s not sure if they’re exclusive or not. They fall into bed together as easily as they fight side-by-side on missions. But it’s impossible for Logan to tell if Wade is serious about half the flirtations streaming out of his mouth when the idiot’s easy affection gets directed at anyone that looks at him twice.

And as much as he’s loathe to admit it, Logan wants so much more than that. He wants Wade’s lingering looks to mean something other than platonic nothings. He wants the softer kisses they share to be more than a break from sex. He wants Wade to need him the way Logan needs him. Hell, he wants Wade to annoy him in ways that Wade would never bother anyone else, because at least then Logan would know that he means something different to the motherfucker, something more than a roommate he hooks up with.

He wants just Wade, all of him, full stop.

He gingerly sits on the mattress, trying not to jostle the two napping Deadpools too much with his weight, and he reaches over to gently stroke Wade’s cheek with a thumb. Feeling emboldened when Wade doesn’t stir, he leans down to press his lips onto Wade’s forehead.

“Well, g’morning to y’too, honey badger,” Wade slurs at him, voice thick with sleep.

Logan abruptly jerks away, eyes wide, and the movement is enough to jostle Mary Puppins from her slumber. She hops off to nap in her own bed after a grumpy growl, leaving Wade alone on the mattress. He attempts to swallow the sudden lump in his throat before clearing it with a cough.

“S’four in the afternoon,” Logan mumbles. Pinching his lips into a flat line, he awkwardly sits next to Wade rustling around in the sheets. His eyes catch the flannel falling open to reveal that Wade is also wearing one of his tank tops.

Logan takes a deep, stuttering breath.

Eyes still closed, Wade blindly flaps his hand around until finding purchase on Logan’s shirt. He tugs Logan back down, and Logan curls over to kiss him softly.

“Welcome home, peanut,” Wade breathes onto his lips. “Missed you.”

He touches his nose to Wade’s. “Missed ya too, bub.”

Wade’s face splits into a slow, easy grin, pulling Logan into laying down. Logan follows him without a thought, gathering Wade into his arms.

“You’re wearin’ my clothes again,” he whispers.

Wade hums, nuzzling into his chest. “S’cold, and it smells like you.”

A pleased purr escapes Logan before he has a chance to stop it, and Wade giggles at him, kissing his collarbone before falling right back to sleep.

They don’t talk about what they are after that, but it’s at that moment when Logan finally realizes that maybe, somehow, Wade feels the same way about him too.

❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛

[ Wardrobe Status: Wearing Wade’s Clothes (Again) ]

The TVA brings them in because they need help with some lady going after Deadpool variants. It would be a fruitless endeavour since Deadpools can’t die (well, except Nicepool) if it weren’t for the fact that the fucker apparently stole a weapon that disintegrates things to oblivion.

“Shouldn’t the law of physics stop that from happening?” Wade asks, gesturing at the screen when B-15 presents the mission to them. “‘Matter can’t be created or destroyed’ or something like that?”

“That’s energy, idiot,” Logan corrects him.

Wade just shrugs. “Hey, don’t blame me for failing physics twice!”

He turns to Wade with a confused grimace. “Who else would I blame then?”

“The teachers, duh!”

“Anyway,” B-15 interrupts, hitting a button to show another slide, “this variant’s got a fascination for destroying the indestructible, but she’s going after Deadpools because she has tritanopia, or blue-yellow colour blindness. She can see shades of red the easiest, hence, sticking with Deadpools as her target.”

“That’s so stupid,” Wade says and Logan can only agree. “There are, like, dozens immortal superheroes in red and she chooses li’l ole me? Seems like the writer copping out of coming up with a better plot, I-M-O.”

“We also believe Mary was double-crossed by the Deadpool in her timeline, giving further motive to go after his variants.”

“Hmph! Now isn’t that just convenient?” He crosses his arms. “Wait, ‘Mary’?”

“Yes.” B-15 shows another slide, this one a close-up of the woman—Mary’s—face. “She’s a Typhoid Mary variant. Have either of you encountered her before?”

“Not in my world,” Logan answers.

“I admittedly did not keep up with Netflix’s Daredevil long enough to meet Bloody Mary, no,” Wade says.

B-15 presents them with further details: Typhoid Mary’s known abilities and weaknesses; how she has dissociative identity disorder on top of her colour blindness; how she managed to acquire the worst weapon available from the arms dealers she was supposed to take down; how her alter apparently took over and decided to go after invincible mutants until she finally got even with her world’s Deadpool. The TVA did try to intervene, but she ended up killing every agent that went after her before stealing one of their TemPads and consequently going on her multiversal manhunt. B-15 makes it absolutely clear how imperative it is that they do not kill Mary or destroy the weapon so the TVA can keep them both under tabs.

Then, she reveals the TVA’s plan to capture her: They want Logan to pose as a Deadpool variant in the timeline they believe she’s going to strike next. Typhoid Mary’s current M.O. doesn’t account for superstrength so he should be able to break out of anything she traps him in. Meanwhile, Wade will be in the shadows, using a tranquillizer gun to incapacitate her once she’s busy with Logan.

Logan groans internally while Wade claps his hands in delight.

“Ooh!” he practically squeals, patting Logan on the shoulder with unrestrained excitement. “Finally, it’s my turn on the other side of this trope!”

B-15 shakes her head and sends them on their way.

The suit the TVA provides him fits perfectly, and he notes Wade’s heated, lingering gaze on him once he steps out of the dressing room. Luckily, another agent gets them through a portal before Wade starts on a tirade that would no doubt be filled with inappropriate innuendoes about Logan.

The mission is executed almost laughably easy. Typhoid Mary’s telekinetic and telepathic abilities are so low-level Logan’s shocked that the others she went after were able to be taken down so quickly.

(“Plot armour, peanut,” Wade said when Logan had asked B-15 about this. “She needed to last long enough to meet us!” As usual, Logan had chosen to ignore him.)

Like the TVA discovered, she lures Deadpools by spreading rumours he can’t ignore, adding a honeypot stash filled with weapons he loves. Geared up in Wade’s suit, Logan “falls” for her trap: entering an abandoned warehouse meant to shelter an upcoming gang targeting Deadpool, but secretly only houses her. Once Logan finds the crate of weapons meant to entice Wade, Typhoid Mary wastes no time in capturing him. She points a giant ray-gun of sorts at his face after wrapping him in the warehouse’s chains with her telekinesis.

He feels the faintest compulsion to stay still, which is probably her telepathy trying to subdue him. But she’s nowhere near the level of other telepaths Logan’s encountered, like Jean or Cassandra Nova, and the compulsion is easy to ignore. The chains are slightly harder to deal with in comparison, but he’s certain he can get out of them without too much trouble. Out of the corner of his eye, he catches Wade moving into place.

During Logan’s silent assessment of the situation, Typhoid Mary apparently began monologuing. He doesn’t let her get a chance to finish though, breaking out of the bonds around his torso with sheer force and grunting at the exertion. He slices the chains around his ankles with his claws, the metal cutting like butter against the adamantium.

“What?!” she screams. “A Wolverine-Deadpool variant? How?!”

Logan doesn’t even open his mouth for a reply because Wade shoots a tranq dart in her neck. She falls to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut.

“Wooh! No scope oneshot K/O, baby!” he hollers, skipping over to pick up the weapon Typhoid Mary dropped. “God, I’d love to take this home with us,” he bemoans as he assesses it, “I can finally stick it to Cable and show off my own badass, futuristic gun!”

“That won’t be necessary,” B-15 announces, suddenly next to them. A group of armed TVA agents begin to file in from the portal behind her, a few of them attempting to grab the weapon from Wade while others lift Typhoid Mary away for custody.

The aftermath of the mission would be just as easy if isn’t for Wade bitching about giving up the gun. After B-15 debriefs them, she and Logan spend entirely too long demanding that Wade hand it to her.

“I’ll give it back if we can keep this suit for pookie here,” Wade eventually offers, pointing at Logan.

“What?” Logan asks. The suit’s not bad but he has no reason to wear it again once he takes it off. “Why—?”

“Deal,” B-15 immediately agrees.

Wade begrudgingly relinquishes the gun, giving it a flying kiss goodbye before taking Logan’s hand. B-15 opens a portal to their apartment and guides them through. “Thanks for the help, gentlemen!” she says, waving a hand at them. They both wave back, and the portal closes.

Logan looks down at the Deadpool suit he’s still wearing. “Why the hell did you want—mmph!”

His lips are suddenly bombarded with hot kisses, and he growls when Wade opens his mouth his tongue. He didn’t even notice that Wade took off his mask.

“God, you look so fucking good in my colours,” Wade moans, hands roaming all over Logan’s body. “Is this how you feel whenever I wear your things?” Logan makes a noise of assent, too busy mouthing at Wade’s jaw to give a proper answer. “Fuck, that’s hot.”

Logan starts moving them towards the bed—Christ, he hopes Althea is gone because there’s no way he’s stopping what Wade’s started. His cock is already taking interest, and only gets harder when Logan bumps his hips into Wade’s. They tumble onto the pull-out in a feverish heat with Logan straddling Wade’s thighs.

He’s licking at Wade’s pulse when the dumbass gasps, “Oh my god, I’m gonna fuck a variant of myself.”

Used to Wade’s non-stop yammering even during sex, Logan mindlessly replies, “‘S still me, bub, I ain’t a variant of you.” Foolishly, he adds, “Besides, that’d be weird.”

“What? Why?”

With Wade groping his ass, Logan actually has to pause getting his hands under Wade’s suit to think about an answer.

He finally lands on: “It’d be like fucking your own clone.”

Wade actually stops everything he’s doing—hands no longer kneading his cheeks, mouth pulling away from him. Logan groans, knowing his brought this on himself, and dips his forehead to rest on Wade’s shoulder.

“What? You wouldn’t?”

“No, because that’s weird.”

“I’d fuck my clone.”

“Course you would.”

“T-B-H, I’m so pro-clone fucking I’d just have an orgy with all of them. Who’d be better to fuck me than me, right?”

This, by far, is one of—if not the—stupidest conversation Logan’s ever had with a person. Somehow, his dick doesn’t flag, and he’s still irrevocably fond of Wade’s random chatter. He kisses Wade before he can start on another tangent, cupping his perfect idiot’s face softly.

“Shut the fuck up,” he says, but knowing the smile he’s got on, Wade isn’t going to listen to him.

Wade’s answering smirk is a challenge. “Make me, peanut.”

——————————————

(More notes on Ao3.)

[justaz]

coleaders klance who have each others back whilst arguing til they're blue in the face. a dignitary from a planet watching keith and lance argue and lance says something and runs away before keith can rebut it which leaves him scowling. the dignitary seeing this as their way in with the black paladin and saddling up to him and complaining about lance. keith doing a complete 180, his eyes going yellow and his skin slowly shifting purple as he glares at the alien and the alien panics and is just like "haha sike hes actually really cool and amazing and i would do anything he asks ahahahaplsdontkillmehaha"

a dignitary finding out keith is galran and seeing klance argue so he goes to lance, the red paladin and second in line should anything happen to the black paladin, and insulting keith's heritage and implying that should lance stage a coup then he'd have whatever planet the random alien is from in his corner. lance pasting on a wide, faux smile and "soothing" the aliens fears/concerns about keith being galran by saying that if their planet doesnt want a galran to save them then voltron wont force them to join the coalition and they can fight the empire themselves. the alien freaking bc hello??? their planet against the might of the galran empire?? they'd be crushed!! and the alien is just like "i meant no offense im so sorry pls dont leave us for dead"

[alohaasaloevera]

guys I’m honestly happy that klance didn’t become canon because I love how as a collective group of people we utilize our right to explore what could have been and create the most smoking hot scenarios ever and yes I obviously wanted more of their friendship growing into this bond stronger than anything else in the universe especially since Voltron has teamwork and family as one of their main lessons but that’s more of a development issue all around…ok besides that there’s something about klance where it provides this PERFECT environment for shippers to inhabit and FEAST upon. With klance, there’s a solid, engaging dynamic between the two set up, which is this weird one-sided rivalry that stems from Lance’s insecurity and his need to prove himself of his worth and Keith literally being one of the best pilots for his age but since they’re flung into space and chosen to become child soldiers in this 10,000 year old intergalactic war so they have to work as a team which surprise surprise forces them to put aside their differences and work as a team which is shown a bunch when Keith needs to become a leader and Lance steps up as his right hand and and they have some kinda tender moments that won’t definitely drive shippers into a shipping craze (or worse) SO YEAH you could see why people loved it with all the classic tropes and mutual growth all that schmooze (ALSO THEY KNEW EACHOTHER BEFORE THE MAIN PLOT??? Well maybe not like friends or even acquaintances probably BUT HELLO?????? EVEN MORE SHIT TO EXPAND ON????), and they share multiple scenes that could be interpreted as romantic but there’s no explicit romance. This environment is fucking dripping drenched flash flooded cornered by 1000ft tsunamis in all directions with potential for shipping, so when people saw this relationship between two bros with this sort of homoerotic (IM JOKING. Kinda.) unresolved tension towards each other and the POTENTIAL for a good slow burn rivals to friends to lovers, it was to no one’s surprise that they went APESHIT. Klancers made countless different ways where they get together whether it be pre-Kerberos, post-gettingthefuckoutofearth, the start of the show, the end of the show, after the end of the show, right smack in the middle, anywhere, anytime, for who the fuck knows why just ANY REASON DAMN IT it doesn’t really matter because people were pumping out fanfiction or fan art or any fan media of klance faster than I spit out a raw baby carrot after chewing it for one second and now we’re all wallowing about how it should have been KICK but the thing is that if VLD did KICK all the way to Altea, the production of these beautiful stories that so many people have and still are coming up with about klance kissing in midst of a battle, helping each other with their crippling nightmares, smiling for the stars or some other sad premise, and whatever is nestled in his pulse…just like uhhh the amount of fics like these that go into great detail about Keith and Lance in these random situations that end up with them getting together being produced would go down to some degree because of the fact that if the people’s beloved sharpshooter and samurai had ended up together like we had wanted, and the majority was satisfied with the ending the creators had given, people would have shifted from writing about “How could Lance and Keith get together?” to writing about “What could Lance and Keith do now that they’re together?” And like. There’s nothing wrong with that honestly I would be HYPED if klance was ever canon but there is profound beauty in the way the community is able to create more from less and turn a show that went to shit in the last few seasons shine even brighter than it did at its prime. Like I wouldn’t trade my favorite fics 4 anything.

—

Ok another little thing I’m going to put here: With Klance, all I wanted was for them to be great friends 😭😭😭. I tend to prefer klance becoming canon in later seasons or at the end or even an open ending with no confirmed romantic relationships because I am a sucker for character development and the idea of Keith and Lance both harboring these feelings that at first are just admiration and respect but then escalate to yearning for one another or becoming close friends at the end of the show and getting to imagine anything I want post canon is EVERYTHING if you give me S7 Garrison klance I’ll keel over and thank you like I was a second away from dying of thirst and your gift was a truck load of water

[waratah-moon]

Gremlin

Four times Dustin was clueless, and the one time Lucas spelled it out for him. Shout out to @lfaewrites for proofreading & encouragement!

masterlist / read on ao3 < bonus smutty drabble posted there ;) I Think We’re Alone Now < smut add on

Pairing: dad!Eddie x mom!reader

Word count: 5.1k

Warnings: Teen pregnancy (not elaborated on), cheerleader!reader, shitty parents, enemies to friends platonic!steddie Steal my writing and I will hex you

1. Eddie’s trailer

Eddie opened the door of his trailer and was very surprised to see Dustin Henderson on his doorstep.

Dustin didn't wait to be invited inside, pushing past a bewildered Eddie, “do you have my book report? I lost it after the last Hellfire meeting and I really don't want to rewrite it."

He'd never been inside Eddie's trailer before. It was slightly cluttered but in a homey-lived-in kind of way. The walls were lined with baseball caps, and a collection of novelty mugs hung above the couch.

“What, no hello? You need to work on your manners, Henderson.”

“Sorry,” Dustin looked around the living room, taking in an array of stuffed animals on one end of the couch and a pile of picture books on the coffee table. He wasn’t about to judge what Eddie Munson did in his spare time. “Nice place. Do you have my book report?”

"The one on Grapes of Wrath? I wondered who that belonged to. Let me find it," Eddie disappeared into what Dustin could only assume was his bedroom.

Dustin looked around the trailer, eyes landing on a couple of baby photos that he guessed were of Eddie. He stepped forward to get a closer look, but stopped when he felt something under his foot; it was a small toy that looked a lot like the Muppet Babies version of Fozzie Bear. Before he could investigate further, the phone rang.

Eddie came racing out of his room and breathlessly answered the phone. "Hello?" He waited for the person on the other end to respond, a smile crossing his face when they answered. “I mean, maybe. How difficult is it?” Eddie was grinning now and Dustin could swear he was twirling the phone cord like a teenage girl. “I think I can manage that. How did Gremlin do?”

Eddie's smile turned to a soft pout. He spotted Dustin out of the corner of his eye and turned away,  “I’ll see you soon, okay?” Dustin heard him mumble something into the receiver, but couldn't quite make out the words.

Once Eddie hung up the phone he walked into the kitchen and began fiddling with the knobs on the oven.

“Eddie?” Dustin raised his eyebrows as Eddie pulled a casserole dish out of the freezer and put it on the bench.

“Oh, shit. Your thing. Right. I think I know where it is. It got mixed up with the one shot we did last week,” he disappeared again, and Dustin thought he could see a glimpse of a floral patterned bedspread through the door of his room.

Eddie reappeared and handed him a few pieces of paper. "Thanks, man.” Dustin looked at the casserole dish on the bench. “So what’s for dinner?”

Suddenly, Eddie was herding him out of the trailer, “as much as I’d love for you to stay, I have a hot date.”

2. Family Video

Dustin was sitting behind the counter at family video, something Keith had adamantly stated was not allowed. Steve was the only one working, and he didn't care what Dustin did, just happy to have company during the slow part of his shift. Dustin had brought takeout from the diner up the road, only offering to share his fries when Steve had complained. "C'mon, dude, it's gonna stink of fast food in here."

The door jingled and Steve absentmindedly began his ‘welcome to Family Video’ spiel while twisting a Rubik’s cube, only stopping when he looked up at the woman who’d arrived at the counter.

“Real customer-focused service you’ve got here,” you smiled, hoisting the toddler you were holding higher up on your hip.

“Oh hey!” Steve grinned, ducking down so he was on eye level with the little girl, “how’s my favourite Cabbage Patch Kid doing?”

Cabbage Patch Kid? Dustin thought, pushing his food aside to watch the interaction.

The little girl smiled shyly, hiding her head of dark brown curls into the crook of your neck. 

You sighed, “Steve, I’ve told you before, stop insinuating my child looks like a Cabbage Patch Kid.”

“But she has the dimples,” he stood up straighter, poking his tongue out when the little girl showed her face, causing her to emit the world's cutest giggle.

“She gets those from her father, not Coleco,” you kissed your daughter's cheek, smoothing down her unruly hair. “Did Care Bears come in?”

“Sure did,” Steve pulled a tape from the counter below, scanning it.

“Great!” You looked around the store, eyes landing back on Steve. “Can you watch her for a sec while I grab a couple more?”

“‘Course!” Dustin watched as Steve held out his arms and you passed the toddler to him. The little girl’s hands instantly reached to pull for his hair while you darted off to the horror section.

“Not the hair,” Steve groaned, attempting to tilt his head backwards and away from the prying hands.

“Pretty,” the little girl mumbled, tugging a lock of Steve’s hair. Dustin stifled a laugh.

“Me? Why thank you, I think you’re very pretty too, the prettiest little Cabbage Patch Kid around,” he bumped his nose against the toddler’s, kissing her forehead. Dustin gagged. 

The scene was adorable, but it went against everything he thought he knew about Steve Harrington.

You'd found what you were looking for and arrived back at the counter, setting down two more tapes; A Nightmare on Elm Street and Splash.

“Interesting double feature,” Steve remarked, the toddler now clutching her arms tightly around his neck, refusing to let go.

“Date night,” you grinned sheepishly, holding out your arms to collect your daughter. Steve attempted to pry her off his neck, but she was clinging on for dear life.

"Seevie stay," she whined, tightening her grip on the man.

Steve scanned the tapes using his free hand, seemingly unfazed. “Oh, did you hear about Ethan Carroway?”

You dug around in your purse, finding the correct amount of money to pay for the tapes, “and Ivy Tech? I know! How dumb can you be?” You handed over cash.

“I mean, he seemed like the type though, right?” He put the tapes in a plastic bag, a bit of a challenge with only one hand but he managed, handing the bag across the counter to you.

You hummed in agreement. “Some people just don’t change. Others surprise you,” you smiled, taking in the sight of 'King Steve' Harrington pulling faces at your two year old. "C'mon Gremlin, let's get home and see if Dad taped Muppet Babies."

"Aminal?" Your daughter loosened her grip on Steve and looked at you.

"Yep," you held out your arms and she finally let Steve pass her back. You smiled at the man behind the counter. “Thanks Steve, I’ll see you later.”

"See ya," Steve called after you as you exited the store.

Dustin was gobsmacked, his mouth hanging open as he watched Steve go back to fiddling with the Rubik's cube on the counter.

"What the hell was that?" Steve jumped when Dustin spoke, seeming to have forgotten about the young teen's presence.

He managed to keep his cool, nonchalant tone, "what was what?"

"Were you just flirting with her?"

"What?!" Steve sounded offended. "With her? Of course not."

"She has a kid, Steve."

"I know," Steve had turned to look at Dustin now, leaning with his back against the register. "She has a boyfriend too. We went to high school together. She was a cheerleader, I was on the basketball team. We're friends."

"I didn't know you had other friends," Dustin cocked his eyebrow with a grin. He vaguely remembered his mom gossiping with Mrs. Wheeler about a cheerleader who got pregnant a few years ago.

Steve rolled his eyes, turning back to face the front door, "and you don't know as much about your friends as you think you do, Henderson."

Dustin frowned, "what's that supposed to mean?"

"Eat your burger."

3. Max’s trailer

Storm clouds hung over Hawkins, and rain had been attempting to sprinkle all morning. Riding their bikes all the way to the Forest Hill Trailer Park probably wasn't the smartest idea, but it was Dustin and Lucas's only mode of transport since Steve decided to pick up more shifts at Family Video.

They pulled up to Max’s trailer, the wheels of their bikes spitting up gravel as they skidded to a halt. Max had watched them ride up from the window, and she was already standing in the doorway when they reached the porch.

“What are you two doing here?”

“We were wondering if you wanted to see a movie, or go to the arcade," Lucas asked, he always sounded nervous talking to Max.

"Or do anything," Dustin added. "We're so bored." It was true. Mike was on his weekly phone call to El, and since the mall had burnt down the activities in Hawkins had become severely limited.

“I can’t," she had her headphones slung around the base of her neck, her trusty Walkman in her hand. "I’m babysitting.”

"Babysitting? Since when do you babysit?" Dustin peered over her shoulder inside the trailer, but Max moved to block his view. Over her shoulder he could see an animated movie playing on the TV, it looked like the Care Bears.

“Since we moved in here,” she shrugged.

“Huh?”

"I like her parents, they're cool, so I offered to look after Gremlin whenever they wanted some alone time. Plus her mom always brings over cookies. This time it’s peanut butter chocolate."

"You offered?"

"Is that so hard to believe?" She squinted, her tone accusatory.

"Kind of, yeah," Dustin said, groaning when Lucas elbowed him in the ribcage.

“What Dustin means is that you seem to have other interests that don’t coincide with babysitting.”

Max rolled her eyes, moving to put her headphones back on.

“Wait! Can we at least come in and hang out?”

“Nope. I’ve got other interests that don’t coincide with hanging out,” her smile didn’t reach her eyes as she shut the door in their faces.

Lucas sighed, but Dustin was already making his way to the trailer opposite Max’s.

“What are you doing?” Lucas watched, before quickly following after his friend.

“Eddie’s home, his van is out front.”

“And there's another car next to it, he has someone over," Lucas added, pointing at the red Ford Fairmont parked next to the van.

But Dustin was already knocking on the trailer door to listen to Lucas.

The door swung open, revealing a flushed and wild haired Eddie. His eyes were dark, and his tee-shirt was on inside out; when he took in that it was Dustin at the door, his expression turned from annoyed to pissed.

"Henderson? What the fuck are you doing here?"

"We were in the area," he started, turning to see that Lucas had not joined him on the porch but had stopped halfway between Eddie and Max's trailer. He continued, "do you want to hang out?"

"I'm a bit busy right now, dude," Eddie folded his arms across his chest, still glaring at Dustin.

"Do you have a girl over?" Dustin tried to peer into the trailer but only managed to spot a bowl of popcorn and a couple of VHS tapes on the coffee table.

Eddie rolled his eyes, "sure let's go with that. Are we done here?" He started to shut the door, but Dustin stuck his arm out.

"Wait! Who is it? Is it Shelley Keibler? She was totally flirting with you at lunch last week."

Eddie looked disgusted, "ugh, no, dude. She buys from me and she was flirting to get a discount; which I didn't give her, by the way."

"Then who?"

"Don't worry about it, Henderson. I’ll see you on Monday." He grinned and shut the door.

4. Hawkins High

Dustin thought Eddie was acting strange. He hadn’t said anything about Dustin’s ill timed visit when he saw him on Monday, and he hadn’t been in the cafeteria at lunch on Tuesday or Wednesday. Mike had sworn he’d seen Eddie in the library when he’d gone to get money off his sister. He seemed back to his old loud, rambunctious self on Thursday, but during Hellfire on Friday he was constantly watching the clock. When the clock struck 6pm, he was packing up, even though they were in the middle of a high tension fight.

“I’m sorry guys, I have places to be.”

“Where?”

“Oh, that little bar on the corner of nunya and business,” he grinned, stuffing his binders in his bag.

Dustin followed him out to the parking lot, expecting to watch him get in his van and drive off. Instead he was greeted with the same red Fairmont coupe that had been parked in front of his trailer. 

The following week proceeded much the same as the week prior, except this week Eddie cancelled Hellfire. And Eddie never cancelled Hellfire. The table erupted in disgruntled yelling when he broke the news over lunch on Friday, but he just sat back in silence, letting the members spit their disdain.

Dustin finally got a chance to speak with Eddie after school was let out, catching up to him in the parking lot as he was leaving.

“What’s going on? Why are you suddenly acting all weird?”

Eddie sighed, looking over at the red Ford that was parked next to Steve’s BMW. “You do know I have a life outside high school and Hellfire, right? I don’t only exist to further your quest, Henderson.”

“I know that-”

“I’ve been busy, alright? I’ve got some stuff going on.” He studied Dustin’s face, as if he was trying to figure out damage caused by a d20. “Look there’s a one shot I’ve been working on,” he grabbed a notebook out of his bag, ripped out a page, and scribbled something down before handing it to Dustin. “Come to this address tomorrow night, 7pm. Bring Wheeler and Sinclair.”

+1. Hellfire Club

Dustin, Mike, and Lucas weren’t sure where they were going, but surprisingly Steve did. In fact Steve hadn’t put up any kind of fight when Dustin asked if he could drive them somewhere for DnD. Sure he’d sighed, but that sigh was quickly followed by a shrug and a “sure.”

Steve pulled up in front of a small one story house, parking his car behind Gareth’s. Two cars were already in the driveway, a two-toned station wagon, and the red Ford Fairmont that seemed to be everywhere.

Eddie swung the door open, a grin on his face. “You’re here!” He glanced over the boys in front of him before his eyes landed on Steve. “Harrington?”

Steve held his hands up. “Don’t worry, I’m just dropping them off. Thought I’d say hi.” He pointed to the station wagon in the driveway. “Is that your new car?” Eddie nodded and Steve added, “a wagon. Very sensible.”

“I’ll have you know that’s a ‘74 AMC Matador. It has a V8 401 engine, 230 horsepower-”

“I’m going to stop you right there, I have no idea what any of that means.”

“You drive an E23. Dude, a 733i!”

“Doesn’t mean I know anything about it,” Steve shrugged. “Finally traded in the van for a family car, hey?”

Eddie rolled his eyes and turned into the house. “Babe, Harrington’s here,” he called out, before turning back to glare at Steve.

After a moment, you appeared behind Eddie, wiping your hands on a dish towel. “Steve, hey!” Dustin recognised you instantly as the woman from Family Video.

“Hey,” Steve smiled, giving you a little wave. “Wanted to see your new place.”

“Can you stay for a soda? I’ll give you the tour.”

Before Steve could move into the house, Dustin held his arm out to stop him. “Uh,” Dustin looked from you, to Steve, to Eddie, and finally to Mike and Lucas. “What’s going on?”

“Oh right! You guys haven’t met,” Eddie wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you close to his side, and introduced you to the teens. “This is my girlfriend.”

Once the shock had worn off, Eddie had led the boys inside to the dining room table, where the older Hellfire members were already sitting. You lead Steve in the other direction, making good on your promise of a house tour.

“So this is your place?” Mike took in the surroundings; they were sitting in a dining room that was attached to a small kitchen. Various picture frames dotted the walls and a large potted plant sat next to the china cabinet.

“Yep, we moved in last weekend. The trailer was getting too crowded now that Gremlin’s decided to grow into a tiny human,” Mike had no idea what Eddie was talking about, but Eddie sounded horribly offended at the idea of Gremlin growing. “We’ve been planning the move for ages, but we finally had enough money to do it. Wayne seemed sad to see us go, but I think he’s happy to have the place to himself. Kind of annoying we lost Mayfield as a babysitter, though.”

Dustin seemed to have a faint inkling as to what Eddie was talking about, “I saw your girlfriend at Family Video a few weeks ago with her daughter.”

As if this was the craziest news in the world, Mike blurted out, “a kid?” His eyes darted around the room, finally taking in the several picture frames embedded with the image of a curly haired toddler.

“Yeah, Eddie’s girlfriend has a kid,” Dustin said casually, proud that he’d figured out this fact about his mentor before Mike. “It’s pretty cool you’re a stepdad.”

Eddie’s eyes widened, but Gareth, Jeff, and Grant just laughed. “Stepdad ? Henderson, no, no, no.”

Lucas shook his head, pointing to the closest picture frame; the little toddler was sitting on Eddie’s shoulders, her fingers gripping his dark brown curls, identical to her own unruly mess of hair. She looked like a mini version of him, both had mischief gleaming in their chocolate button eyes. “That’s obviously his kid.” 

Like a sign from above signifying the revelation, an egg timer went off in the kitchen.

Dustin choked on his soda. “You have a kid? How did that happen?”

Lucas whacked him on the back, attempting to stop his friend's spluttering. “How do you think it happened, dipshit?” It seemed to work.

“No,” the tips of Dustin’s ears turned pink, his voice still hoarse. “I meant-”

“You want the story,” Eddie grinned, and Gareth, Jeff, and Grant groaned. He leaned back in his chair, his hands clasped behind his head. “Settle in boys, for this is a tale for the ages.”

Gareth snorted, “What the hell are you talking about? Indie is the product of too much alcohol and an expired condom.”

“Excuse me, but Gremlin was born from an epic love story that crossed not only class barriers, but changed Hawkins society as we know it.”

Steve entered the dining room with a can of cola, you following close behind him. 

“Babe,” you rolled your eyes, having heard the conversation. You set a plate of pizza rolls down in front of the boys. “I think Gareth is a little closer to the truth. It wasn’t West Side Story .”

“You don’t think our story is romantic?”

“Our story? Sure. Teen pregnancy? Not so much.” Steve snorted.

Dustin had calmed down a bit, but he still had a lot of questions. “Wait, I’m confused. Steve said you were a cheerleader. How did you get with Eddie? You’re way out of his league.”

Surprisingly, Eddie didn’t look offended, instead he pulled you into his lap and tucked his chin over your shoulder, looking at the young teens. “You’re dead right, Henderson, she is way out of my league.” You scoffed, ready to disagree with him but he cut you off, “do you want to tell the story, babe?”

You adjusted yourself so you were sitting on Eddie’s thigh, his hands firmly gripping your waist. “My family moved to Hawkins at the start of my sophomore year. I didn’t really notice Eddie much that first year, he was a junior and we ran in very different circles.”

“I noticed her though. Straight away. Especially when she wore her cheer uniform-”

You flicked him on the shoulder, continuing with your story. “Anyway, school was out for the summer. Remember the heatwave in ‘83? I was driving down Millbrook and it was at least 100 degrees outside and the hood of my car started smoking. So I pulled over and began freaking out, because you know Millbrook, it’s all farmland and there’s no one around for miles.”

“But I just happened to be driving down Millbrook.”

“Yeah, Eddie was my knight in a Metallica cut off. He figured out what was wrong with my car, drove us to the auto shop, bought whatever it was that my car needed and fixed it for me.”

“It was super easy, she’d just run out of-”

You cut him off before he could begin to ramble about cars and the importance of checking the coolant level. “I bought him a milkshake to thank him and we’ve been together ever since.”

“And your kid?” Mike asked through a mouthful of pizza rolls.

“Gareth wasn’t far off. Pretty sure it happened after the homecoming dance that Eddie refused to attend. He snuck in my window when I got home with a bottle of peppermint schnapps and…” you drifted off, noticing the wide eyes at the table, as well as Steve's smirk. “I’ll spare you the details. Nine months later Indie was born.”

"Indie? Like Indiana?" Lucas asked, he wouldn’t admit it but the story was romantic.

"No, Indie like Indigo. Indigo Ripley Munson," Eddie said proudly, and you smiled. He'd snuck Ripley on the birth certificate before you could protest, but you had to admit your daughter couldn't ask for a better role model than the badass heroine from Alien.

It was as if her name summoned her. A bleary eyed toddler in pink footie pajamas entered the dining room, rubbing her eyes.

“Hi sweet pea,” you hoped off Eddie’s thigh, picking up your daughter and smoothing her hair. “Did we wake you?”

“Not tired,” she said, instantly contradicting herself by yawning. “Want Dadda to tell me a story,” she pushed away from you, reaching for Eddie. “With princesses.” 

As much as you wanted to be her favourite, it warmed your heart knowing how much she loved her Dad.

Eddie held out his arms to take her from you and she instantly snuggled against him. "Dad’s playing a game with his friends, do you want to listen? There’s no princesses but there are lots of monsters." She nodded, smiling. 

You knew it was futile to try and get her to go back to sleep now that Eddie had promised her a story. Knowing Eddie it would be a gory and violent story, but having sat in on many of Hellfire's campaigns, Indie was used to it. You thought it was creepy that she was enamoured with monsters, Eddie thought it was adorable.

You crouched down next to Eddie so you were on eye level with your daughter. "See those boys over there? That's Dustin, Lucas, and Mike. Do you want to say hi?"

She stuck out her bottom lip, contemplating the question before shaking her head. Dustin grinned, he liked this kid, she had spirit.

"How did you manage graduating with a kid? I mean Eddie obviously didn't," Mike said. The table went silent. Surprisingly, it was Steve that spoke up.

"He could have graduated, he just chose to put his family first, right Munson?"

Eddie looked at Steve and smiled. You stood up to glare at Mike, "Steve's right, Eddie should have graduated in '84, but he had different priorities that year."

Turning his attention to Mike, Eddie sighed, “My first senior year was when we found out about the pregnancy. My uncle got me a job working nights at the plant, so I slept through most of my morning classes. But the money was good and we were able to afford most of the stuff we needed for a new baby without asking for help. But I failed pretty much all my classes.”

You nodded. “My parents cut me off when they found out we were keeping the baby. They already hated that I was with Eddie and were looking for a reason to disown me; teen pregnancy was it. So aside from the secondhand stuff we got from the Holts’ and the Mitchells’, and that Wayne never made us pay rent, we did it pretty much all on our own. Eddie’s second senior year was also my senior year, but it was our first year with Indie too.”

“I didn’t want her skipping class, she’s too smart to not graduate. So I stayed home with Gremlin. Wayne helped out when he could, but I still managed to miss most of my classes.”

“But now, I have a job that lets us afford daycare and rent, and Eddie’s been working real hard at school. You know what they say, third times the charm.”

“This is my year, I can feel it.”

“Damn right, babe.” You leant down to kiss his cheek. “And Indie and I will be right there cheering you on when you cross that stage.”

It was all too much for Dustin to handle, hearing about this part of Eddie’s life; his girlfriend, his daughter, his connection to Steve. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes, threatening to spill at any moment. He was filled with a newfound desire to protect his friend; he had a family to think about after all, hell he’d traded in his ratty old van for a station wagon.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Dustin wasn’t sure if he felt more hurt or betrayed that Eddie had kept such a big part of his life a secret.

“I never hid it, Henderson, you just never asked.”

Dustin thought back to what Steve had said all those weeks ago, ‘you don't know as much about your friends as you think you do.’ He was right, Dustin didn’t know that much about Eddie. He knew he was in a band and liked metal music, but he hadn’t asked him much in the way of personal questions.

“I’m sorry Eddie, I-”

Eddie cut him off with a lazy grin, “Relax, Dustin, we’ve got the rest of the year right?” For some reason the use of his first name instantly put Dustin at ease. He let out a breath and smiled at Eddie. “Now are we playing?”

“And that’s our cue,” you nodded at Steve, leaving the boys and Indie to their game.

Later that night, after everyone had gone home and Indie was finally tucked up in bed, Eddie said something that surprised you.

“I think we should make Steve Indie’s godfather.”

“What? You’re not religious.”

“No, I know. I don’t mean it in the whole ‘teaching faith’ way. I just,” he ran his hand through his hair. “I know he’s important to you, and he loves Indie. If something was to happen to us, I know he’d take good care of her.”

“I think that’s a great idea, babe. Is this about what he said to Wheeler?”

Eddie’s cheeks flushed, he hadn’t wanted to admit that Steve’s approval had affected him. “Maybe.”

You grinned. Steve had been your friend for a long time, since you first moved to Hawkins. You’d known him through his douchebag phase, and you were his only friend from his high school days he’d kept in touch with since he’d mellowed out. But he and Eddie had never gotten along; Eddie was too loud and brash, and Steve still held an air of elitism that although he’d mostly gotten rid of, still reared its ugly head whenever Eddie was around. 

Today, though, the two of them somewhat made an attempt at a truce. “How about we invite him for lunch and ask him?”

Eddie groaned, “ugh, can’t you just ask him?”

“It was your idea!”

“Fine, we’ll do it together.”

Baby steps.

Okay okay... I would really appreciate feedback as I worked my ass off on this one. And guys... I was so nervous my mum read this... that's the first time she's read my writing since I was in high school. @a-lil-pr1ncess @livsters

[pain-in-the-riri]

Oh, hello there....

My fic for the Conan Gray Marauders Fest has been revealed!!!! I LOVED writing this so please enjoy!! Link below. Forget That Guy

Rated: Explicit

7,585 Words

Sirius from six months ago would be strongly tempted to march across the club and cause a scene. Sirius from six months ago might have gotten into a screaming match right in the middle of the function, or stormed out with Fabian's house and car keys so that he couldn't get back home, or even thrown a punch. Right-now-Sirius has been doing yoga. He’s been meditating and working on his anger management and promising James that he wouldn’t need to pick him up from a police station again. Sitting here now, downing the remainder of a rosé spritzer, watching Fabian dry humping a stranger into a wall covered in fake plants surrounded by the bisexual glow of a cursive neon sign reading "The Naughty Corner", Sirius felt a strange sense of zen.  Yes, perhaps his heart was currently residing somewhere in the vicinity of his bowels, and his vision was a little bit fuzzy due to a combination of intense rage and tears (which, if you pointed out, would make him even angrier) but, honestly, he was totally fine! He even told James a few months ago, maybe he went after the wrong twin. Fabian always was a bit more of a fuckboy than his brother, and yeah, maybe he had a slightly better hairline and wore sexier clothes, but Sirius knew that would bite him in the arse in the end, and here it was, its sharp teeth clamped onto his perky cheek as predicted. But, no. It's totally fine. Sirius is one hundred percent, to quote Mac Miller (or, if you're feeling silly, Mick Jagger and Keith Richards), Cool, Calm, and Collected. The only feelings running through his body, watching his boyfriend grinding his hips into a twinkier, blonder version of Ryan Reynolds, are resigned acceptance, a sense of placid serenity, and the gentle desire for a stronger beverage.  Across the club, Fabian hefts Mr. Reynold's gay twin brother up into the air by his thighs and pins him against the wall with his hips, and Sirius snaps the delicate stem of the empty wine glass his spritzer was served in, in half in his hands. 

[autisticlancemcclain]

fic rec friday 37

hello and welcome to fic rec friday! where, on friday, i rec five of my favourite fics.

1. Fade to Black by @yokohogawa

Things between Keith and Lance are changing but Keith is restless, especially with Shiro still weak, and ends up taking a bad decision: he leaves Lance alone in the Castle with a Lion he cannot pilot. Unable to form Voltron without the newly appointed Red Paladin, the four Paladins left struggle against the sudden attack of a Galra ship and later on take damage from the explosion of a star in close proximity. Lance, on the other end, is left to defend the Castle by himself and has little time to succeed: without energy, the Lions have only 6 hours of breathable air. Beyond that point, his friends will be dead.

okay yes technically this series is unfinished. HOWEVER the first two works ARE finished, and they are amazing showstopping incredible etc. tbh im not much of a black paladin lance fan, i genuinely think solo leadership is not what he is suited for, but this fic made me way more open to it. the way he handled severe crises was as fear stricken as it was awe inspiring highly recommend

2. once again i am a child by @lilaclavenders

“You’re not a spare tyre,” Adam interjects.  “I know that,” Lance says, too unsure to sound completely defensive.   “That almost sounded like a question.” “No... it didn’t,” Lance says.

Lance and Adam talk.

i have always been a fan of lance and adam even tho its the most evidence lacking fanon thing in this fandom. its truly just so interesting. and to have lance as a young cadet getting slammed so badly just in so many different directions being given at least one grownup in his corner...its a good read.

3. Lance the language man by @irish-vampire-blog

Lance didn't really try to learn a language. He just, kind of, picks up the basics and then works from there. Its usually unintentional. Ish.

He isn't stupid though. He isn't an idiot. He just isn't the same kind of smart as his friends are.

this kind of smart for lance is so REAL bc no he cannot do like quantum physics or whatever probably but the way he seems to have a pretty innate ability to successfully do many things that he tries. he just can u know?? thats the autism with the gay audacity i would imagine but i love seeing fics like this

4. my boyfriend's back (and you're gonna get in trouble) by teacupfulofbrains

hey la, hey la, my boyfriend's back

Keith Kogane has never heard of Vine. Lance McClain takes personal offense to this, and makes it his personal mission to teach his boyfriend to meme. Keith is confused, mostly.

(OR: several instances of Keith not getting the meme™ and two times he did)

I LOVE THIS FIC SO BAD I CANT BELIEVE I HAVENT RECCED IT BEFORE. yes i am a cringe zillenial who still finds vine funny and quotes it on the internet but truly idc idc. this fic is funny. this fic is cute. established klance my love and light. also keith comparing lances eyes to the star of bombay is some of the gayest shit ever and also the only time i will entertain blue eyed lance

5. The Most Dangerous Thing is to Love by running_downn

Last time something like this happened to Lance, Keith wasn’t there. He’d thought he would have been able to do something if he had been there, or at least if he was, the guilt wouldn’t be so heavy on his chest. But this time he was there. He was right fucking there and he decided that it was infinitly worse.

~

Basically there's a new threat after the Galra and it almost kills Lance. Desperate making out ensues, but it's okay to recognize when it's not the right time for it. Keith cries a lot cause he's older and grizzled and therefore not as emotionally stunted.

green sock reality? team still out fighting as adults and lance isn’t a fucking farmer while the rest of the team isn’t? keith’s abandonment issues treated with respect and dignity and also the acknowledgement that he’s older and therefore mature enough to handle those issues in a way that doesn’t risk a relationship that is important to him? lance understanding all this and using the supportive nature he is known for??? yes yes yes. stellar fic that should have way more hits than it does

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

[dualityvn]

Hello, love your game. I have a (maybe) silly question:

Does it matter which plant I choose? I know that if I choose the spider plant, MC starts to hallucinate a giant spider in the corner. But I do get the endings that I want, so I'm not complaining. I'm wondering if Keith did something with the plants.

Keep up the good work.

Which plant you choose will decide how tormented your MC will be on Date 2. It doesn't affect your ending, though. As for Keith foing something to them, who knows.

[articdelilah]

Hello! I really loved the Ikemen Prince x Teen!Reader concept. Could you please make a Gilbert, Keith and Silvio version of this? Thank you <3

✮ A Little Trouble ✮

Hi Anon!! Of course I can!! I’m been waiting for a Keith request so Thank you!! Sorry for the wait as I’ve had quite a busy few days and no ideas but I hope you enjoy 💞 I only wrote about kind!Keith🕊️

Foreign Princes

Platonic!Ikemen Princes x Teen!Reader

˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖

(Keith is so sexy oml) At the Goodwill gala, Keith was very confused at the fact such young nobility was attending. He didn’t immediately have any suspicions however.

Nevertheless, he struck conversation with Belle. Asking her how she’s enjoying the gala and where she was from. Both parties enjoyed their conversation, talking about books they enjoy and such.

Belle had asked Keith if he’s interested in the study of plants to which he smiled and said yes. The girl expressed how she always wanted to travel to Jade and learn about plants in their top schools, but simply never had the chance too as she had to stay here to help her family.

Keith only shook his head and told the girl he would teach her everything he knew. And not to give up hope of course!!

Keith decided to stay a couple of days because of Belles interest in plants and herbs, wanting to teach her more about them. They made plans practically everyday, usually spent in the gardens, talking about all types of useful plants.

Keith made it sound all so simple and was a great teacher. He was patient and answered all questioned the girl had (even silly ones) (because my husband is perfect duh)

Another activity that would bring the two closer is doing each other’s hair. Keith braiding Belle’s hair and Belle putting small charms and flowers in his.

Keith found out Belle was well Belle from Silvio and he wasn’t surprised. However he told Silvio he wouldn’t use that information against Rhodolite, after all why would a King’s death be held above their heads? They were grieving (they are totally so sad) and he didn’t want to add to that.

Dill absolutely loves Belle! The bird is always trying to get the girls attention which embarrasses Keith extremely.

Tall trees towered over the greenery of the lush forest. For many days now Keith has been teaching Belle about herbs and flowers therefore she really wanted to repay him. Belle had taken Keith out for a walk in her favourite forest when the girl felt herself suddenly being drawn to a patch of small white flowers. Belle crouched down in front of them, brow raised at the flowers she’s so used to seeing. She never payed them much attention before but the Prince had shown her how important every plant was, even the ones you usually think nothing of. “What are these?” She asked, too busy inspecting the plant to look up at Keith who held a gentle smile on his lips. Her fingers stretched out to hold one of the tiny flowers. Twirling it for a little before she saw grey haired man again in the corner of her eye. He too had crouched beside her, observing the flower with his gentle gaze before giving her an answer. “Feverfews. They are good for-“ “Giving a few fevers?” The girl giggled at her pun and Keith couldn’t help but chuckle along with the horrible thing.

Silvio didn’t want be around snotty chil-Wow this girl knows a lot about trade and economy

Silvio knew Belle was being taught about such things at the castle but he couldn’t help be impressed at how actually knowledgable she was. She knew a lot about Benitoite and how important they were as well as not undermining the importance of Jade and Rhodolite, Silvio liked that.

That was the reason Silvio chose the engage in conversation with the young girl.

Silvio can have anything he wants, but Belle had taught him how true feelings could not be bought with money. She was patient and not pushy, though a bit bratty at times of course.

Silvio and Belle really like picking on each other. Poking fun of one another whatever chance they got, laughing cruelly at the other. Obviously in good fun!

Silvio already had his suspicions on the girl being Belle so when the news broke, he really wasn’t surprised.

Belle was in town with Silvio, sitting inside a small tea shop as the words “I always wanted to visit a Benitoitian beach” blurted out. She hadn’t even realised what she fully said when Silvio asked her to focus on her food.

This does however give him the rich prick an idea; he speaks to Sariel about it. Sariel thought it through, but the diplomacy of the country came first then his moral rights from wrongs so he agreed. He wanted to send Guards but Silvio simply paid them to not follow, and they were kind enough to take the money and shut up.

Belle was shocked at the news of being taken for a trip however she simply thought it was in Rhodolite. The girl didn’t know what was in store for her!

“You get back here girl!” Silvio snapped as the girl started to run away from him. He was lying on the light blue towel, trying to soak in the warm sun when the girl decided to bring a bucket of icy cold ocean water, pouring it on the Prince’s face before quickly retreating. Silvio’s eyes sprung open and her laughter filled the afternoon air. He wasted no time to stand quickly and sprinted right after her. The bright sun smiling down at the two; Belle however didn’t get very far, mainly because of how hot the sand was. She had tried to run to the cool salty water but it was ultimately useless as Silvio had already caught up with her. His large hand covered in rings of pure gold and gems worth millions came down to ruffle her soft hair, his other arm bringing her into a (gentle) chokehold. Silvio wasn’t exactly mad, his face held a pleased grin as the girl laughed and tried to wiggle out of his grasp. He couldn’t get it out of his head how he’ll have to travel back to Rhodolite to leave her.

Gilbert already knew Belle was Belle.

Let’s be honest! He has spies all over and the fact that Rhodolite had chosen such a young girl interested him deeply.

He struck conversation right away with his calm smile. It creeps Belle out at first, he IS Gilbert from Obsidian after all.

Gilbert decides to stay in Rhodolite and he started to appear everywhere the girl was. In the kitchens, the library and the gardens!!

Overtime, his smile was Belle’s favourite features about him.

As she grew closer with the Prince, Belle and Gilbert both kind of rubbed onto each other. Belle unconsciously started to speak a little like him.

Late night walks with Gilbert in the gardens aren’t uncommon but Sariel was definitely not happy about it. Sariel knew what Gilbert was capable of doing, Belle did too, so he warned her day and day out.

Belle however was determined to impress and such, so she didn’t listen to Sariel (sorry Sariel). Gilbert was very pleased at this, not like Sariel trying to stop him would ACTUALLY stop him

Belle was practicing her dancing alone in the dead of night. The girl unaware of the beast which lurked within the shadows of the palace. His cane hit the door, letting a thud echo through the empty ballroom

He laughed and offered his hand.

It was cold and dark in the now abandoned ballroom. There were no stars in the sky, the moon hidden behind clouds as if scared of the beast that had sneaked on Belle. Instead of mauling the rabbit, he offered her a dance. He couldn’t just stand as the girl tried to waltz alone. Gilbert’s hands rested on the girl’s, guiding her through each step of the dance. The empty room was large and illuminated by a singular white candle; its flame dancing along with them. It flickered and rocked, trying to match their steps. One glide to another, each motion carefully guided by the black tiger. He talked through each move and even with Gilbert, the dance was still hard. “This is so difficult!” The [H/C] girl sighed defeated. She knew this wasn’t the only dance she had to know, but she was tired and Belle could see the crack of dawn outside the stained panes of the big windows. She always muddled the steps, timing or direction. “The Waltz is the easiest dance of the many you’ll have to learn.” The Prince of Obsidian laughed at Belle’s increased sour expression. Her nose wrinkling simply at the thought of learning another dance. The two spent hours within the cold room, their shoes clinking and echoing bouncing off the walls. Let’s just say Gilbert wasn’t pleased when he had to leave Belle behind.

If you like my work, please feel free to request!! Anyways Goodbye Doves! Til next time🕊️🌙

Can you tell I really like Keith?

[dawnrider]

Kidge - 72 ❤️

Hello My Love! For the 2024 Wrapped Prompt Game #72 was

Decided to make this a vignette from the Put Me in My Place (Next to You) story line. It's a mite spicy, but not too explicit.

Lost || Kidge || 1100 words

Neither one of them had taken any kind of vacation in an embarrassingly long time. Both were a bit at a loss for how to… relax. In the “before time,” when they were dating, they’d never had the time to take a trip anywhere, too busy with work. Keith having to zip off into space at the drop of a hat didn’t help either. So much of their relationship had been sneaking off together into dark corners, late night rendezvous, and staying up all hours of the night to shoehorn in quality time.

Luckily Pidge was a champ at operating on minimal sleep.

But now, with miles ahead of them and nowhere to go for the moment, they found themselves unsure how to spend their time. The train wouldn’t arrive at their next stop for several hours and she couldn’t sleep. Keith was snoozing, but she could tell it was that light doze where he was more alert than he looked. She’d seen it enough times in the hangar or the lounge of the ship to recognize it.

“You watching me sleep?” he murmured drowsily.

Pidge grinned. “Should have known you weren’t actually asleep.” Keith smirked without opening his eyes. She set aside her tablet, crawling across the berth in their tiny private room so she could lay her head on his chest. Keith hummed in contentment, laughing softly when she nuzzled against the soft fabric of his shirt. “Ran out of things to read.”

“Did you? I have a feeling it’s that nothing was keeping your attention.” Pidge snorted a laugh at how accurate that was.

“I have something much more interesting to study over here.” She could feel his breathy chuckle under her cheek and against her hair. Her hands sliding under his shirt made him shiver, which she loved but also felt a little guilty for. Her fingers always got cold so easily. “Sorry,” she murmured, even though she wasn’t really. Keith finally blinked his eyes open as she pulled herself up, sitting astride his hips. His long fingers slid along her thighs then up to her waist. A soft smirk found her lips just before she leaned down to press them to his. She could feel his grin against her mouth, quickly lost to a kiss.

Keith was deft with his fingers in so many ways, one of which was removing clothing. He shifted underneath her, hips lifting off the mattress and Pidge gasped when bare skin met. “Not all the way,” he murmured. “Just in case the staff come by.” Overnight, they shouldn’t, but there was the risk. Usually she wasn’t into that kind of thing, but the atmosphere and the fact that they were on their first real trip as a couple… It was a little thrilling.

Maybe he had lost his mind a little, but Keith was finding it hard to care as Katie sighed and hummed above him. Their movements were slow, precise, struggling not to make too much noise. The berth had a tendency to creak if you pressed too much weight on the outside edge. Keith let his hips roll up at the same moment Katie came down, a squeak leaving her against her will. The way she tossed him a glare caused a sly smirk to curl his lips.

He didn’t hesitate to do it again.

“Keith,” Katie hissed, lowering herself to her hands on either side of his thighs. “We’re going to get caught.” She said it as though she was afraid it would happen, but he could hear the anticipatory tone in her voice.

“Better finish up quickly, then.”

His years of training along with his Galran blood allowed him a level of agility most people weren’t capable of.  He took full advantage, catching Katie up against his chest and rolling them over without falling off the berth. It was a little more difficult with the way their partially removed clothing restricted their movements, but he wasn’t going to let that deter him. The very familiar yet exhilarating slide of their bodies together sent sparks down his spine.

He followed her demand for harder and faster, knowing she couldn’t hold the slightly awkward position for too much longer.  She whimpered under the increased force, but in exactly the way that let him know she liked it. He’d learned to read her body and her sounds and to trust them more than her words. Katie wasn’t a liar, but she wasn’t always completely honest either.

Keith found himself gripping her calf in his teeth as she gasped sharply, slapping her hand over her own mouth to muffle her cry. He winced as he pulled free, yanking his pants back up as Katie’s legs slid off his shoulder and to the berth. She curled up on her side, still huffing for breath. “You alright?” he whispered, helping her slip her bottoms back where they belonged. She nodded as he curled himself around her small frame. “We can go to the bathroom in a few. Just let me hold you a minute,” he breathed against her neck, her hair tickling his nose.

Katie’s near-silent chuckle was warm. “Might have to carry me. I think my hip’s outta joint.” Keith jolted. ���Kidding. I’m kidding,” she soothed, lightly patting his arm across her middle. There was a flash of several lights through the window of their room, likely a small town where the train wasn’t scheduled to stop. “Ever think about not going back?”

He propped himself up on his hand, arm still around her. “Sometimes. Not sure I could afford that but… It’s tempting.” He took a breath, hesitating. “Only if you were with me, though.” He could see how her lips lifted in a soft smile. “Getting lost out there with you. Getting lost here… All that matters is that you’re next to me.” She blinked, rolling to her back to look up at him in wonder. “Why so surprised?” he asked with a smile. “As long as you know where home is, you’re never really lost, right?”

“I suppose.”

He shrugged. “I just have to keep tabs on you then.” Even in the dark, he could see the flush on her cheeks. Keith really let himself smile then. “Guess we should get cleaned up and get some sleep,” he murmured, leaning down to kiss her cheek before crawling off the berth to scoop her up.

“I was joking!” she squealed. Keith laughed, but did set her on her feet. He didn’t miss the chance to soundly kiss her, feeling lost in her, before opening the door to the hall. 

[kissorkill16]

Hello Neighbor: Kept Secrets

By JJ

Summary: With Nicky missing, and no one around to help, it's up to Trinity and the rescue squad to investigate the neighbor and save their friend.

Chapter 1

Me and Enzo held hands as we walked out of the school.

Enzo was my boyfriend. He was such an adorable dork, and I loved him for it.

We walked to the sidewalk of Raven Brooks Elementary and waited for Maritza, Enzo's little sister.

When we saw her walk out, Enzo let go of my hand and held hers.

Maritza rolls her eyes.

Despite being almost 11 years old, Maritza loved it when Enzo was so protective of her. Not that I blame him, when you've got a younger sibling, you have to go out of your way to protect them.

As we walked home together, I started randomly thinking of Nicky.

After we went to his house yesterday, basically no one wanted to see him after that. I felt kind of bad. I turned the corner and started walking down the street of Friendly Court while Enzo rambled about his homework. He stopped rambling when he saw me turn the corner.

"Trinity, where are you going? Home is this way.", said Enzo, pointing down the street of Newtown.

I nodded, "I know, I just wanted to make a quick stop.", I said, already walking away from the two. They caught up to me, and just like that, we were all walking down the street of Friendly Court.

Enzo seemed to pick up quickly where we were going.

"Are we going to Nicky's house?", he asked, "Trin, you know what he did."

"I do know what he did, but I just thought that maybe it'd be nice to see him after that whole mess.", I said. I turned to Maritza, and she was staring down at the sidewalk as she walked.

"Well I don't want to talk to him, I don't even want to talk about him.", she said, her voice bitter. She turned around to go back to Newtown, "I'm going home, I'll wait for you, Enzo."

"What makes you think I want to talk to Nicky either?"

Then they both started to turn back, but I caught up to them and grasped both of their hands.

"Guys, in case you both forgot, we're the ones who made him so angry to begin with. We went there to apologize, and we never even got a chance before...well..."

I didn't need to say anymore, we already knew what I was going to say. How we found so much incriminating evidence under his bed. Aaron and Mya's missing posters, a llama farm sign, and broken VHS tapes. While I was still sort of angry at him, I didn't want to give him the silent treatment.

"Let's just go to his house and see if he'll accept our apology."

We turned back around, but I could feel Enzo and Maritza's faces still blank.

I knew neither of them wanted to talk to Nicky, especially Maritza. But I just wanted to see him.

As we made it to Nicky's house, we were shocked to see a police car and a huge crowd of people. Covering the front lawn, and pretty much half the sidewalk.

What the hell was going on?

I asked a blonde lady standing next to the police car, "Excuse me, ma'am. What's going on?"

"Someone's kid ran away or something. I'm not really sure, I just got here like 5 minutes ago."

My eyes widened.

Immediately, I ran inside the house, praying that this missing kid wasn't who I thought they were. In the living room, I saw Officer Nielsen and Officer Keith standing across from Mr. and Mrs. Roth, a notepad in Officer Keith's hand. Mr. and Mrs. Roth looked panicked, like the end of the world was happening.

"As I've told you two, the search is underway.", said Officer Keith.

"This is a fucking waste of time!", Mrs. Roth nearly shouted.

"Why aren't we out there looking for him?! He's our damn son!", said Mr. Roth.

"Mr. Roth, please. We'll be happy to answer all of your questions in due time. But right now, we just need information on where anyone has last seen Nicky."

That was the stupidest thing I've ever heard all day. Why were they asking where they've last seen Nicky if Officer Keith was literally here yesterday, investigating under his bed?

Wait...

Last seen Nicky...?

I dropped down to my knees, feeling my heart sink in my chest.

Nicky was missing.

[loveinhawkins]

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 ao3

Eddie stirs to someplace just outside of sleep at the sound of voices. They’re not loud enough to wake him up all the way; even the occasional bout of laughter sounds like it’s stifled, like they’re trying to keep quiet.

He gets one eye open, sees a blur of Robin’s beige jeans and suspenders. There’s a quick flash of grey in the corner, one of Steve’s crutches, and he realises that Steve must be just out of view, trying to trip her up.

More giggles.

“You’re such an asshole!”

“Shh!”

“You shush, you just tried to injure me.”

“I barely touched you.”

Eddie hears a little creak nearby, blearily glances somewhere above to find Steve leaning on the arm of the couch, looking down at him with an apologetic smile.

“Sorry,” Steve says, hushed. “It’s still early, you can go back to sleep if you want. Robin just can’t tell the time.” And he ducks suddenly, as if avoiding a blow. He glances over his shoulder, sticks out his tongue and says, “And she’s violent.”

Eddie blinks slowly at Steve. Feels himself smile. “…’Kay,” he manages, tired but amused.

He just catches something that sounds a bit like, “Oh, Steve, he’s so sweet,” and, “You wake him up again, you’re getting a crutch to the head, I swear to God,” but he fades back into sleep before he can really process it.

When he wakes up again, it’s to the smell of toast just on the cusp of burning, the T.V on. His head rests by Steve’s thigh; when he glances over, he sees that Steve is sitting on the couch, facing the T.V head on, his leg propped up by a stool again. There’s a plate of toast in his lap.

Eddie rubs his eyes, raises his head a little—spots the moment when Steve notices that he’s awake, the lovely way his eyes light up.

“Hi,” Steve says.

Eddie yawns out a, “G’mornin’.”

Steve nods down at the toast. “Want some?”

Before Eddie can reply, Steve is already halving the slice, passing one to him. He wakes up further after that, lifting his head up a little more to peer at the T.V—makes out a quaint cabin before Steve’s speaking again, voice lowered thoughtfully.

“You look better.”

And from Steve’s slight gesture, tapping at his own cheek, Eddie gets the meaning: that he must look less pale.

Eddie finishes his slice of toast, sits up on his elbow. Robin’s sat on the floor, back to him, seemingly captivated by the movie.

“I feel better,” he says, matching Steve’s quiet volume, adds a teasing, “Was I lookin’ real rough?”

“Hideous,” Steve says without missing a beat.

Eddie prods him in the side. Then he’s finally awake enough to appreciate what they’re watching: Doris Day singing about ‘A Woman’s Touch’ in a way that he suspects is not all that heterosexual.

Steve half-succeeds in hiding a yawn behind his cup of coffee.

Robin suddenly turns around accusingly. “Uh, Steve Harrington, the least you could do is pay attention to this when you’re the one who started the whole—”

“Rob, I’ve never seen the movie before! I just call you Calamity Jane ‘cause you knock shit over, all the time.” He makes a little series of explosion noises in demonstration that are so damn stupid, that Eddie can’t even reign in his grin. “You know, like, bam, bam, the tapes are everywhere! A calamity.”

“Oh my god, you knock over the cardboard cutouts every shift! Name one time that I—”

“Uh, hello? Last December? You ruined my whole Christmas display!” 

“Oh well, that’s different. That was on purpose.”

Steve gives a mock offended gasp, nudges Eddie as if to say, Can you believe this shit?

“Keith’s the biggest Grinch ever, dude, I was providing ambience.” He stresses the word like he’s making a point, as if him and Robin are trying to one up each other on vocabulary or something.

“Yeah, you provided so much ambience when you shushed that dude ‘cause you wanted to keep watching Miracle on 34th Street.”

When Eddie snorts, Robin shuffles over to the couch, tilts her head back to grin at him upside down.

“This guy stood at the counter for days, Eddie. He said ‘ahem.’ Like, he didn’t cough, he literally said the word. And Steve just…” She folds her arms, heaves a sigh and mimes checking her nails.

Eddie starts to laugh.

“He deserved it. And he was interrupting the court case, Robin. Fred Gailey’s big moment!”

“Are you a Christmas movie nerd, Harrington?” Eddie asks, “‘cause I’ve got no idea what you’re talking about.”

“No-one has any sense of culture here.”

Robin makes a huff of protest, waving her arms pointedly at the T.V. “Um, hello? You’ve got art right in front of you, dingus. Ooh, and speaking of Christmas, uh, sorta. I have presents.”

She reaches for a backpack leaning against a pile of videos, then brings out two clearly ‘homemade’ mugs, the handles comically thick.

“Since when do you do pottery, Buckley?” Eddie asks.

“Since town hall decided that putting on a load of arts and crafts would help us forget everything. Like, did you all just get nearly destroyed? Bummer. Can we interest you in some clay?”

As she speaks, she nudges the mugs over to the side of the coffee table, where Eddie’s left the gift bag she already gave to him.

Eddie smiles. “You don’t need to keep giving—”

“Nope, it’s too late,” Robin says, somehow grinning and looking deadly serious at the same time. “This is your life now, Eddie—every birthday and Christmas, you better be ready.”

It’s a joke—Eddie knows it’s a joke, but he also knows that she means it, and that’s…

It’s the implied permanence that hits him, really: the thought that their friendship isn’t just one created through fear and survival instincts, through necessity. That it’s here to stay.

He clears his throat before he can do something stupid like actually get all choked up about it. Again.

Thankfully Robin provides the perfect distraction, reaching into the bag once more and saying, “So Steve, you were gonna get a mug, too, but I kinda messed it up…”

She brings out a lump of clay that perhaps in a very generous past life was once almost a mug. It wouldn’t have looked too out of place as an amorphous blob of Something crawling out of The Upside Down.

“Robin,” Steve says flatly. “What.”

“Ta-da! It’s a…”

“Thanks for giving me the weapon I’ll use to murder you.”

“…paperweight!”

“Oh, in your world, maybe.”

Steve plays up the offended look so well, all slack-jawed disbelief, that Eddie wonders if it’s possible to crack a rib from trying not to laugh.

“No, no, it’s got an old school charm,” Eddie says—immediately has to speak through a giggle when Robin points to him triumphantly, as if that had been her goal all along. “Like, murder mystery prop. It was Harrington in the living room with the paperweight.”

Steve rolls his eyes, knocks their shoulders together. “Don’t encourage her, man.”

But then Steve catches Robin’s eye, and it’s a fleeting moment, but Eddie watches as Steve’s eyebrow rises almost imperceptibly, as if asking for permission without words. And Robin’s expression softens in a way that Eddie doesn’t quite understand. She nods ever so slightly. Something passes between them.

Then the moment’s gone as quickly as it came.

“Hey, Robin,” Steve says, grinning like butter wouldn’t melt, “who were you doing pottery with?”

“Who says I was with anyone?”

“Oh, me. I say.”

“Well, she had to show me how to—”

“Ah-ah-ah! So, she had to—”

“Ugh, fine! Yes, it was Vickie.”

It’s Steve’s turn to look triumphant. Eddie looks on as he beams, wide enough to show that one of his incisors is a little crooked, and it’s so goddamn endearing all of a sudden.

“And? You were yourself, huh?” Steve asks Robin, sounding smug, like he’s saying I told you so. “You had to be—only you could make,” he waves a hand at the ‘mug’, “that.”

Robin scoffs, but Eddie can tell that she’s fighting a smile. “You’re so full of it.” “C’mon, gimme some material to work with, Rob! You met on a… something-something day.” Steve clicks his fingers at Eddie. “Adjective?”

Eddie glances between them both, their joy infectious. After a sufficiently dramatic pause, he says, “Serendipitous.”

“Seren—” Steve does a double take, gives Eddie a look like he’s just sunk a winning shot from wherever-the-fuck on the basketball court. “Yeah, what he said.”

“Okay, cool your jets—”

And oh, Eddie smiles to himself; that’s definitely a Steve-ism that Robin’s picked up.

“—it’s not like we—like, yeah, she told me she broke up with her boyfriend, but we didn’t really confirm anything, or—”

“Oh my god,” Steve groans, “I’m gonna suffer through this for years. You’ll just keep making mugs for each other, over and over without actually talking—”

“Don’t be silly,” Robin says, “I’m giving all the mugs to Eddie, catch up.”

Eddie reaches down, messes up her hair until she lunges for his in revenge.

“I s’pose there are worse things,” he says, laughing when she thumps him with a cushion.

He thinks of “I’m glad we’re weird.” How before, it was Casablanca references and shared secretive smiles, and now it’s something louder, jubilant.

And Steve knows.

-

He slips upstairs to use the phone in Steve’s bedroom, brings the piece of paper where he’d written down the number from Hopper.

“Ring if there’s any trouble,” Hopper had instructed—and Eddie knows that probably meant if he was in trouble, but…

He doesn’t have to wait long before his call is answered—and to be honest, when Hopper said a private number, Eddie had kind of assumed that it was a private number for the man himself.

So hearing the nasally, bordering on chipper voice of a stranger throws him a bit.

“Hello? …Hellooo? Listen, I’ve been assured that this line cannot be tapped, so you better not be the Feds. I mean, thank you kindly for the courtesy call if you are, nice to have some warning for once.”

“Um.” Bewildered, Eddie temporarily covers the receiver. Double-checks the number. No, he’d definitely dialled right… “Sorry, uh, I—who am I speaking to?”

“My goodness, a voice! Hallelujah! Oh, you’re the kid, aren’t ya?”

“What?”

“You know, one minute you’re just a kooky high school outsider, you play a board game or whatever that gets everyone a little spooked, yadda yadda yadda, now you’ve up and started a satanic cult?”

Eddie feels a flicker of anger through his trepidation. “I didn’t start a—”

“Phew, relax,” the increasingly annoying stranger says. “I’m just messing with you.”

Maybe the fucker can somehow sense the way Eddie is gripping the phone tightly, or maybe the silence just speaks volumes, because when he starts talking again, he actually sounds a little apologetic.

“So. I feel like we got off on the wrong foot here. Sorry. It’s been a wild few years, kid, my sense of humour’s shot. Name’s Murray. I’m a friend of Jim’s? Jim Hopper?”

And at that, Eddie feels some of his anger start to cool. He trusts Hopper, trusts the way him and Joyce looked out for Steve; knows that Hopper wouldn’t have given him this number lightly.

So maybe he can trust this Murray, too. Even if the guy’s pissing him off.

“It’s Eddie, right?” Murray prompts. “You called for a reason, huh?”

Ring if there’s any trouble.

Eddie pushes the lingering irritation aside and takes a deep breath—tells him about Nancy, about Jason holding her at gunpoint.

“Ah,” Murray says, and there’s more of an edge to his voice now, like he actually cares, and Eddie thinks good. “She, ah, neglected to mention that. Okay.”

The rapid scratching of a ballpoint pen against paper. “I’ll speed up some things. Sounds like his parents have got a troubled young man on their hands—they’ll wanna uproot sooner rather than later. For his own good.”

Eddie can’t help it; he shakes his head in disbelief. “What, just like that?”

“Look, I don’t have a magic wand, but… you’d be surprised at how easily certain folks take… uh, well, bribes would sound unseemly to them. Let’s say they’ll come to an agreement.”

“…Okay,” Eddie says, hesitant.

Murray hums in response; Eddie can hear the creak of a swivel chair, like he’s leaning back against it.

“There’s eyes on him, got it? Trust me when I say there’s lotsa people that just want all of this to go away, nice and quietly. And uh, I’ve been round the block a few times. Got enough leverage to take a story, water it down until it’s just ripples in the pond, softly softly, yeah? No big, crazy headlines this time. Target’s off your back.”

Eddie pauses. Presses the phone against his forehead. I understood, like, fucking none of that.

“And… Hopper trusts you with—everything?”

Murray laughs. “I know, it’s a miracle. I jest, I jest. Yeah, he does. Look, from what I’ve heard, you kids have been through the ringer. Let us handle some of it.”

Eddie breathes out. Jumps when he hears a knock at the door, relaxes at the sound of Dustin’s persistently upbeat shave and a haircut rhythm.

“Okay,” Eddie repeats, sounding a little more certain. “Uh. Thanks. Thank you. For… yeah. There’s—I’d better—”

Murray laughs again. “Oh, that’s right, you’re with Steve.” His voice goes singsong and reedy when he says Steve’s name.

Eddie frowns. “Yeah, what’s that supposed to—”

“Nothing, nothing. Well, Mr Not A Cult Leader, I won’t keep ya. Anything crops up, just call and I’ll be… well, I’ve got karate on Fridays, 1 to 3. That one’s non-negotiable, I’m afraid.”

Eddie huffs out a bemused laugh. “I mean, no offence or anything, but I hope I don’t have to call you.” He fiddles with the phone cord, mutters, “Just kinda want a quiet life, y’know?”

Murray chuckles. “Yeah, kid. I can respect that.”

-

When he reaches the top of the stairs, the front door’s already wide open, Dustin leading from the front as the whole troop of kids surge through the hallway. They’re chatting all over the top of each other, chaotic and joyful, and as they reach the kitchen, he hears Robin call out a gleeful, “Hey, it’s the von Trapps!”

And Eddie can’t help thinking that maybe all of this feels a bit like a Christmas movie, actually.

He shuts the front door, gets a glimpse of what looks like a pizza van driving away.

When he turns around, Max is standing there alone. She’s looking down at the floor, fidgeting with one of her hoodie sleeves.

“Is Steve charging you rent yet?” she asks.

Eddie smiles. “Don’t tell him, think he forgot to. I kinda like freeloading.”

There’s a pause, and then she darts forward. It’s quick, barely lasts a couple of seconds before she disappears off to the living room—but Eddie has just enough time to squeeze her shoulders and murmur, “You’re good, Red.” -

El has the casting vote in them deciding to watch Mary Poppins—“You only chose that cause she can move stuff like you,” Will teases, to which Mike laughs, no longer as quiet as before.

Eddie catches his eye through the rowdiness and Mike nods with a little smile.

“See him?” Robin says, nudging Dustin when a little dog in a checked jacket appears on screen. “That’s you.”

Lucas starts giggling, and that soon makes Max break, too—a little reserved, but it’s still a welcome, bright sound.

Eddie’s fetching the ice-cream Erica had brought, when he hears Steve come up behind him.

“Harrington, go away.”

“Wow, what a charmer.”

“I mean it! Go sit down.” Eddie indicates the tubs of ice-cream, says, “Think I can handle this.”

“Oh, yeah?” Steve raises an eyebrow, smiling. “Where are the spoons then?”

Eddie very confidently throws open a drawer at random.

Steve’s smile broadens. “Cool, I’ve always wanted to eat ice-cream with a can opener.”

“You can go off some people, y’know.” Eddie heaves a defeated sigh. “Fine, show me where the spoons reside in your maze of a kitchen.”

It’s when he’s turning for the correct drawer that Steve indicated—“On your left… your other left, dude,”—that Eddie hears it.

Gentle humming.

It stops and starts, skips past a few notes. Repeats the chorus just because, at a relaxed pace, like someone taking a stroll through the song. But Eddie recognises it. Would know it anywhere.

“Steve,” he says, almost a whisper—and when he turns back round, he sees Steve’s eyes widen a little in surprise, and the humming stops.

Oh, you didn’t even know you were doing it.

“Yeah, funny story,” Steve says lightly. He reaches past Eddie, opening the cutlery drawer, rummaging for spoons. Humming again.

God, you make it sound so… happy, Eddie thinks.

“There was this guy,” Steve says, all nonchalant, but his lips are twitching. “I don’t know, man, he just kept singing. Couldn’t get it out of my head.”

Eddie manages to smile. He pretends that one of the ice-cream lids is stuck, buys himself enough time so his voice is steady when he speaks.

“That sounds really annoying.”

Steve laughs. “No, I don’t think so. It… He was the best.”

-

By the time everyone else leaves, one side of Steve’s cast is covered in signatures and doodles; there’s even a game of tic-tac-toe with ‘FUCK’ underneath in capital letters, presumably in response to whoever won.

Eddie’s secret favourite comes in the form of two little stick figures holding popcorn: Max and Lucas arranging to go to the movies.

“There’s space,” Steve says, gesturing to the markers Will left behind, “if you wanna…”

And Eddie knows an invitation when he hears one.

He gets the idea as he’s reaching for a pen, briefly closes his eyes to recall the class of ‘85.

Steve catches on after the second signature, laughs. “Woah, are those—? How do you even remember…?” He points. “You even got how she dotted her ‘i’s with a heart.”

Eddie shrugs at the praise, pauses in thought before adding another scribble. It’s shaping up okay, this imagined replica of Steve’s yearbook.

“I’ve gotten good at forging notes. Another little money earner.”

Steve raises an eyebrow in interest. “Notes?”

“You know, like, hall passes, doctor’s notes… Unlike certain weirdos in this room, some people wanted to get out of gym.”

“Ha ha. Okay, but this is more than doctor’s notes, Eddie.”

“Uh, yeah, I can—memorise handwriting, I guess?”

“More than guess, dude. Shit, you could steal someone’s credit card with this.”

Eddie smirks. “I pinky swear that I’ve only used my skills to facilitate truancy.” He doodles a few stars, adds more thoughtfully, “I’ve signed many a yearbook in my time.”

“You didn’t sign mine.”

Eddie looks up, grinning. “Oh? Do I detect a note of offence, there, Harrington? You never asked me to.”

He imagines for a moment, with faint amusement, what that would’ve been like—the looks they would’ve gotten if Steve handed his yearbook over to him. Then he wonders if that would’ve even mattered.

“Oh, hold on,” Eddie says, “gotta make it realistic.”

He leans forward and adds a bunch of hearts to a few of the girls’ signatures, cackles when he rounds everything off with some ‘xoxo’s.

When he looks over, Steve’s face is going red. “Oh my god, literally none of them did that.”

“Uh-huh. Sure.”

“High school crushes don’t even mean anything, dude.”

Eddie snorts. He’s overheard enough cafeteria gossip to presume otherwise. “Interesting premise. Continue.”

Steve stutters. “I mean it! I guarantee half the time, more than, they—the whole thing happened just ‘cause I was there, I could’ve been anyone. You dick, stop laughing!” “Jesus Christ, Steve.” Eddie’s stomach hurts; he can’t stop giggling. “I guarantee you that no-one was crushing on King Steve just ‘cause of, like, general proximity.”

General proximity, Steve mouths mockingly, but there’s still a pink tint to his cheeks. “Uh, thanks. I’ll take your word for it.”

Eddie’s giggles finally start to abate. He puts a cap on the marker he’s holding, tosses it aside. “You know,” he starts, trails off with another little laugh, “I used to think you were playing the long game with that nickname. Like, you started it as an elaborate ploy to get Prom King.”

Steve chuckles. “Oh, jeez. I didn’t even want Prom King, man, not really.”

“Yeah, don’t blame you. Christ, that shit was boring. Almost considered pulling a Carrie, just to make it more lively. ‘Cept chocolate pudding or something instead of pig’s blood.”

Steve gives a joking nod of approval. “God, that movie. Y’know we put it on at work, and Robin said the worst bit is the waiting, like for the bucket to fall? The suspense?”

“Yeah.” Eddie tilts his head, considers Steve. “You don’t think so?”

Steve shrugs. His smile turns bittersweet. “Guess I’m used to waiting for things to, um… happen.”

Unbidden, Eddie thinks of Steve sitting cross-legged in his bedroom, managing to smile, to laugh right before—

“Robin hated the whole scene, the build-up, everything. Kept complaining ‘bout the bottom dropping out of her stomach.”

“Yeah,” Eddie says quietly. “Yeah, I know the feeling.”

“See, I told her she was wrong though! ‘Cause in that whole movie, the blood, the powers, whatever—”

“The deaths?” Eddie says wryly.

Steve waves a hand. “Yeah, yeah. Still, outta all of that, the scariest thing is the mom, right? You know.” His voice lowers in a hushed imitation: “They’re all gonna laugh at you. God, I ignored, like, three customers in a row while that scene played.”

Eddie tries not to stare. He picks at a thread on the couch, considers the thought that horror isn’t just blood and screams. That it can be quiet, too.

Steve gives a long sigh. Whispers, as if to himself, “Lighten up.” Then he says, louder, “What were we talking about, before?”

Eddie thinks. Makes a face. “Crushes.”

Steve laughs like he’d genuinely forgotten. “Oh yeah, that’s right. Okay, back to crushes, then.”

“Ugh. Must we?”

“I kinda thought I had a crush on Robin.”

“Oh.” Eddie blinks a few times in quick succession. “Shit, man, I’m sorry.”

But Steve scoffs with a smile. “Would you listen?” he says, and it sounds a bit like when their damn French teacher would stress, “Écouter et répéter!” He throws a stray pen at Eddie. “I said I thought I had a crush on Robin. Thought.”

Eddie catches the pen. Throws it back. “Okay, okay. Listening. Uh. Why…?”

Steve huffs in contemplation. “Well, I kinda thought that’s what people do, right? Y’know, summer vacation, nothing else to do but, like, go to the mall. Catch a movie. Look at someone and think oh yeah, it’s you. You know what I mean?”

“I don’t know,” Eddie says, and he intends for it to sound flippant, but he doesn’t think he achieves that at all. If anything, he sounds quietly amused—fond even. Can’t help but be a little charmed by the thought of Steve viewing summer like that, all rose-tinted and hopeful.

And you say I’m the romantic.

“You were the one living the ‘All-American boy’ life, Steve. You tell me.”

Steve laughs, wrinkles his nose. “Pretty sure I wasn’t, man. So then, I spilled to her. And, uh, obviously like, you know, it wasn’t gonna happen. But then I…” He laughs again, tender. “I felt relieved.”

“Relieved?”

“Yeah. ‘Cause… I don’t know, I’m shit at explaining this kinda stuff. The whole summer, I thought well, I’m a guy, she’s a girl, she makes me laugh, guess that’s just how it goes. And then when… I realised oh, I can just. We can still, like, hang out? She can still make me laugh, and I—I don’t have to… we can just be friends. And I—I liked that we could just… be like that. Loved it. Still do. Is… is that weird?”

“Nah.” In all honesty, Eddie thinks that’s one of the sweetest things he’s ever heard. “No weirder than me, anyway.”

He takes a deep breath, then realises for once that this isn’t scary. With Steve, it isn’t scary.

“I guess I’ve always sorta… known who I liked.” He smiles, adds tongue in cheek, “I know you think high school crushes don’t mean anything, but—”

“Ignore me, man,” Steve says quickly. “I didn’t mean—I was just talking about, like, the stupid shit.”

“Relax, I’m just teasing you. Well, my first… it was earlier, actually, in middle school. This boy… he moved outta state that Christmas, but… Damn, it’s silly. He lent me a pencil. Said I could keep it. And then I—” Eddie exhales, laughs. “Couldn’t stop thinking about his eyes. And then… that’s how I knew.”

“Oh,” Steve says softly. And that’s all he says, his lips parted like Eddie has told him something precious.

Eddie smiles, happiness and sadness battling it out. “Then, uh… well, I caught on pretty quick. Worked out that I couldn’t exactly… I wasn’t ever gonna be dancing with who I wanted to at prom, y’know?”

Steve lets out a forceful sigh. “The fact that—” And then it’s like the words choke him for a moment, because he has to start again. “The fact that some people can’t—can’t—” He swallows, adds a disjointed, “That they can’t—just because other people are awful makes me—” Another sigh, a little shakier than the first. “Makes me really fucking angry, sometimes.”

“Well shit, Steve,” Eddie says faintly, because it looks like Steve might actually cry over him, which… he doesn’t know what to do with that. “Don’t get cut up about it. I’m fine.”

“I know you’re…” Steve tips his head against one of the cushions, like he’s trying to hide his face. “Just… just let me be sad about it, Eddie. And it’s not—” He frowns, clearly mulling something over, so Eddie doesn’t interrupt. “I don’t mean it like a poor you, if only you weren’t… kinda thing, okay? The world sucks. Not you.”

“Got it,” Eddie murmurs.

He slowly travels up the couch, until him and Steve are side by side. Steve turns his face away, but the hidden tears on his lower lash line are revealed in the light.

“Hey,” Eddie says gently. He reaches out and catches the tears with his thumb. “It’s not worth that, sweetheart.”

Steve closes his eyes. Opens them. “Yeah, it is,” he says. It sounds like Yeah, you are.

Eddie smiles. He brushes away any tears that have clung on, just a couple trickling down Steve’s face. “Sweet of you to say so.” You’re sweet.

Steve smiles. Winces a little. “Not really. Check my yearbook, man. I was a real asshole.”

“Now why would I do that,” Eddie says, “when I could just look right at you?”

And he can tell that Steve’s taken the wrong thing from that entirely—spots the way he looks down.

So, fuck it. Eddie says the next thought out loud, as clearly as he can. Keeps his hand cupping Steve’s cheek for a second longer, even though the tears are gone.

“You wanna know what I think? Too bad, I’m telling you anyway. I think… that you’re a kind soul, Steve Harrington.”

Steve blinks. His mouth opens, but nothing comes out. The silence says it all. You’d be one of the first to say so.

“And you know me,” Eddie says, knocks their foreheads together until he feels Steve let out a quiet laugh. “My word is God, so. You better believe it.”

[suckerfordylansstuff]

Let your guard down

Request: Hello! I was wondering if you were interested in writing an angsty Steve Harrington x Robin Buckley x reader (all platonic because the reader is under 18) story where they all work at Family Video. The reader is really shy and timid. When she first started working at Family Video, Steve and Robin thought it was kind of funny the reader would just do whatever was asked of her and they would push their work off onto her so they could mess around. Then Steve starts to notice things about the reader like bruises and not having anything to eat on her lunch break or anyone to pick her up or drop her off. He grows a massive soft spot for her. One night a group of guys from school that always bully her show up and start harassing the reader, cornering her in the back of the store. They’re all bigger than her and she’s scared of them. Steve gets super protective and makes the guys leave. She’s trembling with anxiety even after they are gone and Steve calms her down and then she confesses that they bully her all the time at school. Steve and Robin start looking out for her more.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x platonic!reader x Robin Buckley

Warnings: cursing, bullying, bleeding

Notes: Hope you like the fic and sorry for taking longer than I expected, college just started which means a lot of assignments to organise and deal with. Also, sorry to anyone named Mark, it just came to me. Stay safe out there!💕

~Masterlist~

Steve had just rung up a customer when the door of the store flew open revealing an out-of-breath Robin entering the store. He wished the sweet lady who had just rented ‘The Karate Kid’ goodbye and let his eyes fall on his best friend leaning her forearms on top of the counter, trying to catch her breath.

“You’re late.” Steve simply told her.

“I know, I know. Band practice went on longer than I expected.” she took quick deep breaths to calm down her beating.

“Even the new hire came in earlier than you.”

“We have a new hire?” Robin’s memory wasn’t the best, but she definitely didn’t remember Keith telling her about a new hire.

Steve pointed towards the back of the store where a familiar figure to Robin was organizing the Halloween section they always set up during October. It took a moment for Robin to get her thoughts sorted out, but as a light bulb lit up in her mind, she was already calling out your name and saying hello as she remembered you are also a suffering student at Hawkins High.

She watched as your head lifted and turned toward her, not finding it odd that you responded with nothing more than a small wave before returning to your work. Even at school, you were one of the quieter kids, so Robin took the wave as an accomplishment.

“You know her?” Steve was the one now leaning, watching his friend’s interaction with furrowed brows. When you had come into the store just an hour ago and quietly told him you were the person Keith told him to expect, Steve was excited. He liked meeting new people and given you were fairly around his age he was excited to have another friend. But as he began showing you around, he quickly realized you weren’t much of a talker, which disappointed him. So, he was just rambling on and on about the store and its requirements while you simply nodded at his words, your eyes not even meeting his. When he noticed Robin was running late, he took the decision to stay behind the counter and assigned you the job he was supposed to have already finished, which you took without question, silently arranging the shelves.

“Yeah, she’s from school, but of course, you don’t remember her.” she smirked at him. Robin loved teasing him about his past personality, and Steve hated it.

“Will you stop it with that?” he followed her movement as she walked to the breakroom to get her things sorted out before coming back out to start her shift.

“Why don’t you go and help her out since she’s doing your section?”

“I was covering for you, smartass.”

---

So, all of your shifts went on as they usually would. You were mainly the one organizing the shelves with the returned or new tapes you would get; Steve was the one to help customers around the store and Robin was usually sitting by the register. When they didn’t have any customers, they made sure to show you some of the other sections around the store, so at any given moment you would be able to help out without any problems.

Robin usually tried to start conversations with you, mainly about an assignment you both had or complaining about an annoying teacher, but your answers were short, so after a couple of tries, she stuck with casual conversation.

This has been going on for a week. You would all come at your required times and do your jobs. Well, you did your job quietly while Steve and Robin chatted away the second they didn’t have to actually work.

Steve was confused at how closed off you were. At first, he thought it was because he had done something to you back in High School that he didn’t even remember, something so bad it made you hate him. However, he quickly realized that your closed-off behavior wasn’t just for him, you acted that way around Robin and Keith too, so he at least knew it wasn’t personal. Still, he couldn’t help but wonder why you were like that.

It was a week after you first started and all three of you were on the closing shift. You had closed the store, but you still needed to prepare everything for Keith who would open tomorrow. Robin was closing the register when she began looking around the store for Steve. She couldn’t find him anywhere so she turned to you, who were sweeping the floors, getting rid of all the dirt the customers would bring in during the day.

“Hey, have you seen Steve?” she watched your eyes drift behind her as you pointed at the same direction, before continuing your task. Robin turned her head over her shoulder only to watch in horror how he was already out of his work clothes and ready to leave.

“Well, I’m off. I have a date tonight and I can’t be late. See you tomorrow.” he waved at the two, but neither of them responded and for different reasons.

“Woah, woah, there dingus. What do you mean you’re off?” Robin’s legs quickly made their way over to Steve blocking his way out of the store.

“It usually means I’m leaving, Robin.” he scoffed, turning to look at you waiting for a reaction over this, but looked back at Robin when he saw you weren’t even paying attention to them.

“I told you yesterday that I can’t close because I have to study for a test tomorrow, Steve.” Robin’s arms crossed over her chest while Steve grimaced when the memory finally hit him.

“Well, I can’t cancel on the date, I’ll look like an idiot.”

The pair began arguing over who deserved to get off work early the most, not realizing your movement stopped as you turned to stare at them.

“I can close.”

For a second Steve was startled by the new voice, but relaxed when he realized it was you. He thinks this was the first time he had heard you say so many words at once, hearing your voice clearly for the first time.

“You sure?” he questioned you and sighed with relief when you nodded your head.

“Alright well, we have a list of what needs to be done around the store at the back if you don’t remember anything and then you just lock up with these right here.” you watched the brown-haired boy make his way at the counter and grab the set of keys you already knew where there.

“I know.” you took them from his grasp and placed them in your pocket.

“Good.”

“Thank you, seriously, we owe you.” Robin had just grabbed her stuff and opened the door for the two of them. They wished you goodnight before leaving the store and you behind.

---

That’s how it started. At first, they were really thankful you could cover for them, but as time went on they realized you were always ready to take over. Sometimes it happened while Steve was too busy to finish the work he had started because he was flirting with a cute girl. By the time he had rang the girl up and escorted her out, he went back to find his section ready and you leaving without a word. You also helped out Robin when she would inevitably forget she had to do something.

The pair didn’t question it at all. They actually found it pretty convenient, and so they started testing just how far was your limit. Whenever they were busy, talking, or bored they would assign you a task they were supposed to be doing. They were a little hesitant at first, trying to see if you would catch up to what they were doing, but you always took on the job without complaining. And since you weren’t complaining they thought it was the perfect plan. And it’s not like they didn’t do anything, they just watched more movies now at the store unbothered. And isn’t that what they were supposed to do, they told themselves, watch the movies they had to give out the perfect recommendations to customers? They were doing them a favor.

---

November had just started and you were once again over at the Halloween section, taking everything down, as you listened in to Steve’s awful attempt at flirting with yet another customer. You heard him laugh at his own cheesy joke when his body collided with yours sending you and the tapes you were holding on the floor.

Steve’s head immediately whipped around and started cursing when he saw you on the floor. He turned back to Rebecca, the girl he was talking to, to excuse him for a moment, but realized she was already gone.

“Great…” he mumbled under his breath before focusing his attention back to you “Hey, I’m sorry, I’m such an idiot. Are you okay?”

You watched him from the corner of your eye kneel down next to you, but you didn’t look up to meet his eyes, just started picking up the tapes from the floor.

“Hey, here, lemme get those.” he took the tapes from your hands and placed them in the cart you were previously using. He grabbed the rest of them and then let his eyes fall on you once more “Want me to help you up?” even though he put it as a question he didn’t wait a second to grab your wrists, ready to pull you but to your feet, but his movement quickly died down when a wince came from your mouth, your eyes snapping closed as if you were in pain.

Steve immediately removed his hands off you, looking terrified wondering what he did “Oh my God, are you okay? Did the fall hurt you? I’m sorry, let me look-”

He saw. You didn’t register his actions before it was too late, and he saw. He saw what they had done to you, and now you were scared. You didn’t expect Steve to help you up. You didn’t expect him to grab you by your wrists, the same place they used to tug you around when they threw insults in your face. You didn’t expect him to notice your pain, you always thought you hid it well. And you definitely didn’t expect him to worry and inspect upon your pain, because no one else has ever had. But he did. He grabbed your long sleeve, pushed it up, and he saw them. You did tear off his gentle grip and pulled the sleeve back down, but he had clearly seen the purple bruises on your arm.

“I’m okay.” you told him quietly, your eyes staying on the ground.

You stood still for a second, trying to decide what you were supposed to do now, waiting to see the way Steve would react as well.

“All right. I’ll, um… I’ll finish over here, alright? Go see if Robin needs any help.” you weren’t sure if you were glad he didn’t comment on it, but you left without a second thought, praying he wouldn’t make it a big deal.

---

After that incident, Steve’s eyes mostly never left your figure while at work. He always watched you do your job. At first, he told himself it was out of curiosity over the bruises, but it wasn’t long till he realized he was worried. Because it wasn’t only the bruises that picked his curiosity. Suddenly he started seeing all those things about you that hinted at something wrong.

He was able to notice your wincing more often, especially when you thought no one was looking, always caressing your wrists after a long shift. He also noticed that you never had a break during work. He tried to recall when he had last seen you have a meal here, but other than the occasional granola bar during full shifts on the weekends, you never brought anything else with you, which was a drastic difference compared to him and Robin.

When he ran it by Robin, she tried to take a more logical approach to the whole thing, but she also found it weird.

“I mean during the weekdays it could be because we’re having lunch at school, but on the weekends… I don’t think I’ve seen her sit on her break longer than 5 minutes.”

“Right? I don’t know, maybe I’m overreacting here, I mean, not everyone has our appetite.” Robin nodded at his words “But I’m starting to get a little worried here. And I can’t outright ask her because I don’t know her that well. Plus there’s no way she would answer me, right?”

“Well, collectively, we’ve only heard her say 20 words? So, no, it won’t be easy to talk to her.”

“Try and see if you could approach her more in school, see how she acts there. Does she have any friends? Maybe we could ask them?” his brain was trying so hard to find some way to help you without scaring you away.

“To be honest with you, it is a little hard to keep track of her around school. She always seems to disappear in between classes, like she doesn’t wanna be found.”

He thought his talk with Robin would be reassuring, but it ended up being anything but that. So for the rest of the day he made sure to help you out with your work and stop putting more things on your shoulders. He decided he would try to get on your good side, so he could approach you about his worries.

---

You had just helped a little kid pick out a movie to watch with his mother when loud laughter and yelling caught your attention. Your eyes shifted at the front of the store in curiosity before they widened. Your heartbeat picked up and you could barely feel your legs as they started guiding you away from them.

‘What are they doing here’ you thought. You were used to them at school, but here? How could you hide it? You can’t go out the entrance door without them seeing you and the break room is on the other side of the store. Your mind was screaming for you to hide, but as his eyes fell on you, you knew it was too late.

---

Steve eyed the group that entered the store suspiciously. He had never seen them in here before, but he remembered their faces when he was back in Highschool. Back then they were just kids, mostly getting into trouble with stupid pranks they did around school, but they build a reputation for themselves, so of course ‘King Steve’ would have them in his radar. He didn’t like them, but he couldn’t just go up to them and demand to leave the store, he would be fired.

So, he decided to let them be and only interfere if something bad actually happens.

He was helping out a sweet lady, telling her all about the movie she was interested in just so she could make sure nothing scary is in it. He spent a good five minutes doing so and then proceeded to ring her up and show her out the store, holding the door open for her, when Robin’s figure appeared next to him.

“Hey, can you deal with Mark and his little friends? I really don’t feel like talking to them outside of school.” Steve nodded at her words. Mark was the ‘leader’ of the group, the one telling the rest what to do and what not to do.

“Yeah, I will, don’t worry. Is he still as stupid as I remember him?” they made their way to the register, leaning their bodies as they waited for another customer to enter.

“Oh, he’s worse now. They’ve started picking on people a lot more, not just dumb pranks.” he watched her pick out a candy from their candy jar and pop it in her mouth.

“He hasn’t tried anything on you or the kids, right?”

“No, don’t worry. Just victims of his stupidity reeking the entire school.”

Steve smirked at her exaggeration but stopped when he realized you weren’t anywhere near his eye sight “Have you seen Y/n?”

However, before they could start looking for you, the yells coming from the back started becoming more prominent. Robin sighed at their behavior and Steve stood up straight, patting her back “I’ll go kick them out.” he made his way towards Mark and his friends and clapped his hands to announce himself as their heads came into view behind all the shelves “Alright, guys, If you don’t sto-”

Steve froze. When he saw you down on the floor, hiding in the corner while Mark stood before you, his hand gripping your hair, he nearly lost every sense of control he had in him, but he knew killing wouldn’t resolve to anything good right now.

“What the fuck are you doing? Get off of her.” he yelled at him as he pushed his way to the asshole above you, punching him across his face and when the guy stumbled, trying to find his balance again, he grabbed him by the collar of his jacket and pushed him into the wall. The rest of the group started scattering and left the store quickly as they realized they had been caught.

“Steve, what’s…” Steve could sense Robin was now watching everything that was happening but couldn’t focus on anything other than Mark in front of him. He wanted to hit him again, he wanted to beat the shit out of him, but for now he had to stop, because he wasn’t his main focus, you were. He needed to make sure you were okay first and then if you gave him the green light he would get Dustin and they would hunt Mark down.

His fist was already in the air in a way to threaten Mark, and it was working. The boy in front of him despite being the horror of Hawkins High for some of the students that attended, to Steve he was still just the scrawny kid he used to see run around the halls. And Mark remembered Steve, who couldn’t remember him? So, even he knew not to test the King’s limits.

Steve’s fist slowly lowered as he once again grabbed onto his collar “If you ever try anything on her or anyone again, I will not hesitate.” he pushed him into the wall one more time before sending him forward. He watched him nearly fall on the floor before he quickly ran to the door and left the store.

It didn’t take long for Steve to come back to his normal self where only one thing was important. Making sure you were okay. Turning around he saw you still on the floor, your shoulders shaking. He could tell you were crying even though your face was angled to the floor. Robin was before you trying to access the situation, but each time she would try to put a comforting hand on your shoulder, you shook it off. He didn’t even think you were doing it on purpose, you were just scared.

“Hey, hey, Y/n? Can you hear me?” he kneeled down and spoke in a soft voice. He wasn’t sure what the best approach would be when someone is having, what he would assume this is, a panic attack, but his instinct told him ‘just don’t startle her’.

He waited for some kind of response, but you only shook harder at his words. You could hear him and you could understand him, but your body wasn’t making it easy to answer him. You wanted to say it’s fine and then walk away and never talk about this again, but you’ve been caught red handed.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to say anything. Can you nod for me and tell me if you can stand up?” your breathing was quick and tears were falling from your eyes, but you eventually pulled through and nodded your head. You heard the boy before you let out a sigh of relief before he started speaking again “Alright, great. Robin, go and flip the sign up front, we don’t want any customers right now.” you heard Robin agree and the sound of her footsteps came next. Your eyes were closed, so you were relying on all your other senses to understand what was happening. Suddenly, you felt a cloud of warmth surrounding you, Steve was closer to you now, you realized “I’m going to help you get up and we’re going to walk to the break room, is that okay?”

You were able to let out a shaky ‘yes’ before you felt his arms loop around you and help you stand up. Without realizing it, you made it to the break room where you were sat on top of a chair while the others stood around you, trying to help you.

Robin helped you through your panic, guiding you to follow her breathing, while now with your eyes open you could see Steve run around trying to find water for you and some kind of bandage for your hand that was bleeding. After the fall you had landed on top of the moving cart and managed to scratch your hand as you tried to stop the harsh impact.

Eventually, your breathing was back to normal, your eyes were red, and the water bottle was in your hands, one of them wrapped with bandages. You were focusing on the water and not on your two coworkers, who were starring at you from across the table in the break room waiting for you to speak. You guessed Steve didn’t have a lot of patience since it wasn’t long until his voice filled your ears.

“Do you want to tell us what happened?” his voice was soft and you were thankful for that. You weren’t sure why you were expecting to hear him angry, as if he has ever been anything but nice to you, but you feared that after seeing you on the floor they would call you all those things you already knew about yourself. Stupid, weak, a bitch, like how he called you.

After a couple of seconds you were able to nod your head and look them in the eye, before speaking softly “Um… Mark and the rest, they uh… they’ve been messing with me-”

“Messing with you? More like-” Robin spoke up, her voice filtered with anger. She felt terrible for not noticing how you felt. She was never too good at filtering her words and action, so when Steve nudged her, she knew it wasn’t the time to let her emotions get the best of her “Sorry.” she motioned for you to continue, but you quickly shook your head thinking you sounded dumb.

“It’s not even a big deal, seriously.” your good hand was playing with the cap on the water bottle.

“Not a big, deal? Y/n, you’re bleeding. And I’m guessing the marks I saw on your arm were from them too?” Steve was getting defensive. He couldn’t believe you thought this was any kind of ‘okay’. He started feeling the same way he does when the kids are in danger and he wants to do anything, everything, to make you feel protected and safe.

“You saw those?” your voice was a mere whisper at this point.

“Yeah, I saw those. Y/n, what they are doing is wrong. No one should be treated like this, especially not you. If they ever try anything again, you come and tell me, alright?” you watched as his eyes met yours when he kneeled down before you once again. You could see he was genuine, and you could feel your guard being let down.

“Oh, I’ll make sure they don’t, because from now on you’re not leaving my side at school, okay? They’re not going to hurt you ever again.” Robin made a promise to herself to be your personal bodyguard at school.

You looked at both of them and then your eyes filled with tears again “I’m really scared…” you finally admitted to them.

“I know, but you shouldn’t be. From now on you have us, okay? We’re sorry for not noticing sooner, but you can truly trust us.” Steve held out his hand for you, which you took gladly.

“We want to help.”

You sniffled at their words and finally let out your first smile in front of them. Your first smile in a long time “Thank you.”

~~~

[lmaowatermelon]

Heartlines

Klance / 3.5k / T

Contains moments of pining and Keith and Lance being gone for each other while they go on a silly mission gone wrong

Contains mild injury and torture

Updated link for @catsushinyakajima

Maybe it’d be easier to start from the beginning when explaining why Keith is missing.

Lance has no trouble recalling Pidge’s life-changing discovery: a planet similar to Earth.

“This is perfect,” Pidge elaborates, radiating excitement. “With such similar soil and atmospheric composition, we can probably count on getting more food here. We won’t have to wear air masks, either.”

Shiro sighs and nods. “The food supply is getting lower. We should give it a try. Do we have leftover money from the last planet, Hunk?”

Hunk winces but pokes around his touchscreen for a while and scrolls around. The paladins watch him with bated breath, and he eventually nods.

“Looking good Shiro,” the yellow paladin notes. “We just need to find an exchange post for the local currency. Trade for their coins.”

Pidge does a tiny fist pump and Lance looks like his life has changed forever. Which, he’d argue, it totally has, because he thinks he’ll cry if he sees space goo for the thousandth week in a row.

The supply mission goes off without a hitch — at first, anyway. Everyone splits into pairs/trios: Coran and Allura, Keith and Lance, and Pidge, Shiro, and Hunk. Shiro ignores Lance’s weak protests and orders them to enter the food market first once they have the right currency. Thanks to technology, they understand the language better through the little screens on their comms devices.

“This guy is selling two Galantis Peaches for the price of one!” Lance calls out to Keith. “Or what about space seaweed rice balls? 4 for the price of two!”

Keith almost snaps that they don’t have time for this, before realizing that buying food is why they’re here, and Lance is very much staying on task. He shakes his head to prevent a small smile from forming.

“Wait, they have onigiri here?” Keith inquires. He raises an eyebrow and strolls over with his arms crossed. “That’s just like…”

…what my dad used to make me.

Lance knows Keith well enough to fill in the blanks, though he thankfully doesn’t push the issue, and instead asks the guy at the stall for the whole batch. Keith tries to stop him with a weak raise of his hand but relents upon seeing the beaming smile on Lance’s face.

“Why don’t we share some before we keep going?”

The taste makes Keith almost tear up. It’s been ages since he had something like this because he never really had regular meals as a kid, much less any knowledge of how to prepare basic food. He goes silent and eats with almost meditative slowness, as if eating it too fast will make it disappear forever.

He doesn’t realize Lance is watching him until he gets to his very last bite.

“What?” Keith questions, mouth full of rice. “Is something wrong?”

Lance shakes his head with a shameless grin. “Nah, just happy you’re happy.”

Well, that’s not a sentence I’ll dwell on for the rest of my life, Keith’s brain thinks for him as he swallows his snack-lunch and stands up.

The duo makes their rounds around their sector of the market for a while after that, picking up anything resembling Earth food and counting coins together in the corner, determined to be smart since they want to make the best of it.

Sometime later, Keith is busy staring at nothing and standing somewhere off to the side.

“Well, hello there,” Lance drawls, his signature flirtatious tone bouncing off every nearby surface.

The sudden change in Lance’s demeanor whips Keith’s attention back to reality. He’s leaning over the table of what looks to be a fortune-telling booth, and Keith sighs, hoping to get this episode over with.

The girl at the booth giggles and covers her smile with her tentacled hand. She asks if he’d like his fortune told and Keith tries to pretend he doesn’t know Lance to get out of it. He fails when Lance calls him over by name, and Keith grits his teeth, put off by the sight of Tarot cards on the velvet tabletop.

The girl shuffles the cards and fans them out face down, gesturing to Keith, her eyes gleaming mysteriously. “Go ahead, young hero. Pick one.”

Keith squints at Lance, who playfully bumps his shoulder, giving Keith the kind of look that makes his heart sputter. He turns away and selects a card the fortune teller picks up to read.

She raises an eyebrow and then smiles with a knowing expression. “It’s the Two of Cups, upright. Did you have someone on your mind when you chose this card?”

Keith reels in confusion at that. He was thinking about Lance for about a second before he chose a card, but he didn’t think that counted, or, at least, it probably didn’t—

“That’s crazy,” Lance exhales with excitement. Keith swears he can see sparkles flying off the guy while he speaks.

“What, do you know what that means?” Keith asks. He’s trying to play along, but in the end, he’s not super into this future prediction or crystal-magic stuff.

Lance nods and stares at Keith like he’s just realized something life-changing. The red paladin scratches his head and flushes at the direct eye contact. The fortune teller, to his dismay, smiles even wider.

She gestures towards Lance with a flourish. “Go ahead and elaborate, sir.”

Lance picks the card up and shows Keith the art on it. It shows two people holding golden goblets and facing each other at a rather intimate distance, with a beautiful blue sky behind them. It gives Keith a rush of nostalgia to see that horizon, even when he feels on edge about the situation.

“Listen, Keithster,” Lance says, ever energetic. “This is one of the love cards. Depending on the reading you’re getting, anyway. It means loving yourself, and also— uh, a-anyway, it’s a good card!”

Keith wonders what Lance is about to say, but decides to end this nonsense before it goes any further. He turns back to the lady with his arms crossed. “Um, thank you for the card reading, but we need to get back to our friends.”

Keith lets out a low growl when he sees the fortune teller stand up instead. He’s trying his best to keep it together and be polite, but the more she smiles like that, the less safe he feels.

“Oh, but dear,” she says with a sultry tone, “your friend here hasn’t gotten his reading yet. Since you two are interesting I’ll let you have a more in-depth reading in my back room, plus a palm reading. All free of charge.”

Keith tries to decline, but the words barely leave his mouth before Lance agrees, his hand reaching back to drag him inside. Keith is overwhelmed by Lance’s warmth as it seeps into his skin. 

It overrides his reason until it’s far too late.

In all fairness, though, the inner room is beautiful. It’s draped with rich purple velvet curtains that cover the ceiling. Elegant lanterns illuminate the space from each corner of the room. On the ornate wooden tables, stacks of stones, cards, and astronomy gadgets are piled on each other. It looks exactly how Keith would have imagined it, but he refuses to let his guard down and stands beside the table instead of sitting with Lance.

“Go ahead, please,” Keith urges, eager to move on and get out.

Lance rolls his eyes, though it’s clear he’s still cheerful, happiness painted in bright shades across his face. The fortune teller begins to shuffle the cards, quick as lightning and slow and methodical, in a rhythm that almost lulls Keith into closing his eyes to sleep.

Entire minutes pass until Keith realizes he’s too drawn in and the flames in the lamps have gone out. The room is completely dark and Keith tries to feel around for anything to ground him. A sinking stone in the pit of his stomach fights with his usual tough nature, filling his entire body with dread.

When the lights come back on, he’s not in the marketplace anymore.

Not even close.

Keith is surrounded by a giant pink bubble that stretches far above his head. Beyond his odd prison are a bunch of formations that look like the inside of some sort of gigantic cave, with rich brown and red streaks curling around the sharp stalactites and stalagmites, and water dripping rhythmically from the ceiling.

He glances down at his feet and almost throws up when he sees that he’s also very high up off the ground. Keith is not a huge fan of having a paper-thin bubble solution between him and the cave floor.

The red paladin curses himself for not listening to his gut and letting this happen. He checks around him for signs of Lance and fails to spot anyone. After a few experimental pokes at the bubble cage’s surface, he sits uncomfortably on the floor of his pastel prison, going over his options in his head, one-by-one.

It doesn’t take much longer for Keith to register footsteps in the distance.

Then, he hears a voice: Lance.

“I don’t know where the heck you’re taking me, but you won’t get away with this!”

Oh, god.

The fortune teller from earlier no longer hides her shrill movie villain laugh. “Just to see an old friend. Look, isn’t he a lovely decoration for my back rooms?”

Lance gazes up and they make blistering eye contact. The blue paladin gasps and rushes forward, determined to reach Keith in record time. Keith flushes at the sight of Lance’s concern and is suddenly grateful for the distance between them.

Lance doesn’t make it very far, though. The tentacled fortune teller lady can, in fact, stretch like bubblegum, because she lashes out and extends her right arm until it wraps around Lance and freezes him in place.

“What the—” Lance cries, incredulous. “Let go of me!”

The fortune teller shakes her head. “Do you think I’d let my prized decoration go for free? No, we should play a game. Winner keeps the hero. Forever!”

She prances around the room with Lance dragging behind her, still trapped in her chokehold, and unable to reach his bayard or anything that could help. By the time she’s found what she’s looking for, Lance looks like he’s on the verge of passing out, and Keith isn’t far off from doing the same.

And, actually, Keith is starting to feel very, very lightheaded. He feels his chest struggle to contract for air as it warms up to an uncomfortable degree around him. The world starts to blur and double and he can’t remember if he’s called out again or not, or if he even decided on an escape plan.

Yes, he thinks drowsily. Escape, that sounds nice. Escape and a big bowl of food goo.

One more second passes before he collapses and starts to shut down.

“KEITH!” Lance shouts in concern. “Hold on, I’ll get ya!”

“Get who? You’re stuck with me, brat!” The fortune teller cackles. “Unless you want to start playing. I might as well introduce myself if we’re going this far, hmm? What if I told you I’m Erosia, planetary goddess of the future, love, and chaos?”

Lance just sighs. Normally, he’d be all for the grasp of a hot, strong lady. But the tug in his chest and the rage boiling in his stomach are hard to ignore. He won’t let this crazed goddess get anything good out of them.

Or so he thought.

“There’s only one way to get him out of there, and it doesn’t involve anything you can do with a cute little bayard. Just answer one question for me, brave warrior: how do you feel about Keith?”

Lance grits his teeth. “None of your business!”

Erosia snaps in reply and Lance turns his head to see Keith starting to gasp for air. Lance’s heart drops into his feet and he whirls on his foot, still stuck in her stupid arm.

Erosia tightens her grip. “Tell me, or. Keith. Dies.”

“Let me go, pendeja!” Lance screams.

The way Erosia looks at him makes his skin crawl. “You can at least admit how you feel. You’re not a person with a closed-off heart. Except for things like this, that is! I should warn you that Keith won’t last much longer.”

Lance’s face drops into full-blown panic. He doesn’t want Keith to get hurt or worse, but he also doesn’t want to give Aerosol (or whatever her name is) exactly what she wants. He spits on her arm and glares at her with all the animosity that he can muster.

“How about I make a trade?” Lance proposes, projecting his voice. “Our bayards in exchange for leaving both of us unharmed. And getting us out of here.”

Erosia purrs and shakes her head. “You’re so silly. I don’t care about the Galra and your galactic robot nonsense! Instead, why don’t we trade you for him? I’m sure any Paladin of Voltron would look just as good on my mantle.”

Lance crooks his head and sees Keith passed out on the floor of the bubble. He can’t even see the rise and fall of his chest anymore. The sight makes him take a shaking deep breath.

“I’ll do it.”

After way too long of a pause, Erosia starts to quake with hysterical laughs. “Just KIDDING! Watch this, Paladin!”

Lightning starts to arc around the inside of the bubble with no obvious source. Lance’s eyes widen in horror as Keith wakes up. He looks dizzy and unfocused, with utterly messed up hair and exhausted eyes.

Lance could almost tease him like always until he heard Keith’s screams from the horrific pain of a sudden electric current.

Keith’s desperately mouthing something at Lance and waving at him even through all of the torture.

It seems like he’s begging Lance to run away.

Lance starts to whimper. He tries to think of a solution but comes up dry without being able to use his hands. Then, he remembers something. 

He has teeth, doesn’t he?

The blue paladin opens his mouth wide and chomps on Erosia’s arm like it’s a fresh beef roast. She howls and shakes him out of her grip, and that’s Lance’s cue to jump her and hold her down with his body weight. He thanks the stars he learned some martial arts in his younger years and listened to his brother Marco.

“Let him go!” Lance roars, a force and volume in his voice that he’s never heard before.

Erosia is pinned, but it’s obvious that she delights in their pain. “Aww! Are you worried about him? All of a sudden?”

Lance snaps in a single second. “Shut up! Of course, I give a shit about him! He’s one of the reasons we stand a chance out there! He means a lot to me! More… more than I show him. But that’s none of your business. So, how about you stop your weird magic and let us go?!”

Erosia nods. “Good, keep going! If you want him free, open your heart, paladin!”

Lance is breathing so hard that he might pass out from his fury. Tears are in his eyes and he can barely think with Keith struggling to breathe and crying out as lightning hits him repeatedly. Erosia is laughing in his face about his feelings and about Keith getting hurt. It’s all so much that he covers her mouth and looks at her with disdain that could chill blood.

“If you’ll let him go, I’ll say it all,” Lance whispers.

Erosia’s crooked enjoyment only intensifies and she shakes underneath his grasp.

“Keith, you can’t hear me,” Lance yells, with a sliver of hope that the red paladin can hear him, and will remember every word somehow. “I was scared that I’d never catch up to you. So, I got on your nerves like it was my job. But now look at us! We’re sharing lunch, we’re laughing, we’re working together and we’re doing amazing things. Sometimes… sometimes I catch myself wishing I could keep you to myself. It sounds dumb. But I see how great you are, with a much, much tinier green monster of jealousy. I swear! You’re cool and I can’t see life without you now. I honestly want to take you out sometime when I don’t want to rip your hair out! I also think your whole look is kind of hot, so I’m a huge liar, and— ugh, I think I’m stopping here!”

Lance is very glad that Keith might not be able to hear him. But he also feels an intense pang of guilt at the possibility that he’d only have the guts to say this in this situation. Or that he’d only ever say any of it once.

He lets out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding as he sees Erosia destroy the bubble. Keith’s body is limp and burned, but when he’s brought into Lance’s arms, he at least has the barest pulse and breath.

“Are you happy? Can we go?” Lance asks with an impatient stare.

Erosia just turns her back to them and waves with a casual chuckle. “Of course. Good luck.”

—

When Lance brings an injured Keith to the castle ship, the rest of the paladins begin to pummel him with questions, but he ignores them all and puts Keith into the healing pod himself.

Keith wakes up 4 days later to find Lance passed out on the floor of the pod room. He’s snoring with a soft mumble here and there, swatting his hand around the room at invisible, imaginary things. Keith can’t help but notice that Lance looks thinner than usual.

He flops onto the floor with as much grace as he can manage. Lance is 100% in a deep sleep because he misses the howl of pain from Keith hitting his weak body on the side of the pod.

The red paladin makes the short crawl over to his friend after taking a breath and hesitantly taps his shoulder. “Lance?”

Lance responds in seconds, though he’s still very groggy. He rubs his eyes and pauses in shock when he realizes who woke him up. To Keith's surprise, the blue paladin just lays there and bursts into tears.

“L-Lance, what’s wrong?” Keith implores, concerned.

Lance can’t stop crying. He’s shaking and holding onto Keith’s wrist like a lifeline, his spirit thin as a thread. “It wasn’t worth it. The cards weren’t worth it!”

Keith’s eyes widen as everything comes flooding back to him. The torture, the weird bubble cage, the way Lance tried to help him with everything he had…

Keith gives him a tender smile. “Thanks for saving me anyway, sharpshooter.”

Lance is surprised that Keith references the nickname. He sniffles and tightens his grip on his fellow paladin.

“Of course, man. I couldn’t let her hurt you like that. She made me do weird stuff to get you out, so I did them, but by the time you were out you were burned everywhere and I didn’t know if you were still alive—”

Keith’s eyes are suddenly intense and angry — protective. “Lance, what did she make you do?”

Lance jumps in his skin at the question. He blushes and looks anywhere but Keith’s eyes. Then, his sadness seems to hit him again like a punch to the face, because the silent tears just start to pour.

Keith is startled. He reaches forward with a hesitant hand and brushes some of Lance’s messy hair out of his face.

“You don’t have to tell me,” Keith manages, guilt washing over him.

Lance shakes his head and gives Keith a crooked, heart-wrenching smile. “She made me talk about how I feel about…. uh. Someone important. She’s some sort of goddess of love and chaos or something, she’s insane!”

Keith frowns. The blue paladin looks so thoroughly broken, and it hurts so much that Keith forgets all his injuries for a second. He’s fine now, he thinks, and it’s clear that something bad happened while he was knocked out.

“You didn’t want to say anything?” Keith asks.

Lance’s expression tells him that he hit the jackpot. “Kind of. I didn’t want to tell her, the crazy demon lady, and I only said it because she was trying to hurt you. That’s all. I wish I had said it over a cute coffee date, not a mission gone wrong!”

Keith’s brow furrows. It’s obvious that he’s curious and not following, but he doesn’t say anything else for a while. All he does, and all he ends up needing to do, is sit beside Lance while he calms down.

“I don’t know if I can help. But do you want to eat?” Keith finally asks.

Lance is about to say no when his stomach grumbles. He flushes and tries to make up an excuse while Keith laughs and helps him stand.

“Space goo pancakes?” Lance proposes.

“Sounds good,” Keith shrugs with a grin.

When they get to the kitchen, Lance speaks up without turning around.

“I plan to say what I said back there again. My way.”

Keith raises an eyebrow, but soon enough, nods warmly. “That’s good. Take your time. I’ll be here.”

Lance finally turns his head, affection evident in his eyes. He nods, too, and hands Keith his plate.

“You want any syrup?”

[icypantherwrites]

hi hello I normally do asks anonymously but I wanted you to personally know

I found you a couple days ago i believe and oh my god. Are you like, an angel?? Dude. You’ve written over 200 works, nearly 90% of them being in the vld fandom. I feel like no one gives you enough credit for your contributions to fanfic, especially in the vld fandom. I can’t even begin to think of 20 ideas for a fanfic. You’ve had probably over thousands. You are genuinely one of the most talented writers I’ve ever come across. I love how you write angst and pain. It’s done so in a way that can hurt you so deeply yet leave you wanting for more. Just perfectly encapsulated what it is like to read angst because you did it. in a way that clearly shows you understood the assignment. I love how you write yearning and internal turmoil. I love how you write rising tension and build up anticipation. It leaves me on the edge of my seat every time and I get so excited every time something super important happens. I love how you write each of the characters’ relationships with one another. It can literally feel so personal to see them interact. my favs of yours are probably keith and shiro <and> lance and hunk. You are such a great writer and I don’t think you get enough recognition or appreciation because oh my god. Every time I read your works it is just masterpiece after masterpiece. And the way you end them?? You know just how to make an ending to a story so satisfactory. Because you write the beginning to be satisfactory. You write the middle to be satisfactory. You write every single chapter, paragraph, sentence, and word to make sure that the story concludes in a way that leaves you feeling content. I am genuinely always baffled at how godly your writing is. How you never get any credit where it is clearly due is completely insane. You have done wonders in this world, even if it just seems like a little corner of it. You were here. And you did good for so many. You are so amazing and I don’t know how many ways I could possibly tell that to you. If you ever were to write an original work I would make sure to personally buy ten thousand copies all on my own. Because I know damn well that if you wrote it, it is going to be one of the best pieces of literature ever written. You are so. So. So so so so so so so so soooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo amazing. And awesome. And cool. And great.

So much love.

You are incredible.

🩷🩷

So I would like to preface this response by noting that I've had regular asks closed for the last few months due to just a lot of negative feelings with the entitlement behind the asks, and anonymous asks closed for the last year due to various reasons but the most common one being trolls and hate mail. Following a recent livestream on my Patreon I kind of said screw it, let's just see how it goes again and opened them and so the fact that this absolute sweetheart gem of an ask is the first thing I get not even two days later is just... wow, thank you. I've only read this like ten times now.

I just wanted to say this comment makes me feel very seen and appreciated and all of the kind words are backed up by the fact I do indeed recognize your name (so I am glad you didn't submit this as anon!) as having popped into a number of my stories over the past week or so and leaving such sweet comments. It truly means a lot. And as an aside, I am very excited to see you (hopefully) back for the final chapters of Missing as (ironically) a lot of the audience went missing the last few ;p So I do hope you enjoy it and would love to hear your thoughts there! As you observed, it's definitely a bit of a rough go to put all this time and effort into writing and sharing my works and not really seeing a lot of folks engaging with the stories any more, but I'm still trying my best to post for as long as I can. And readers like yourself are the reason I do try to continue to do so 🧡

I also just wanted to highlight of this entire highlight of a comment the little bit you mentioned about how I end stories. Thank you. I strive really hard to not just 'finish' a story but to wrap up every tangent and every little loose thread into a pretty bow so nothing ever feels unfinished and it's not always an easy thing to do. But I've read plenty of stories where it just ends and it's like, but wait, it was so abrupt, it feels incomplete, and I don't ever want anyone to feel that way reading my stories.

I have unfortunately given up my dream of writing my own original novel as I've lost a lot of faith in my abilities due to the continual decrease of engagement and just feeling like nothing I ever write will be good enough, but thank you so much for the encouragement and the kind words. I don't think it'll ever happen, but if it does I'll for sure post a link to purchase my novel on Tumblr ;p

I could gush about all the little, beautiful details you wrote in this for hours but I will cut myself off here. But thank you, truly, for such a sweet message and kind words and I do hope to continue to see you in the comment sections of my stories for the little bits of sunshine you bring into my life🧡