#lance who has so much love in his heart for his friends and family and a deep inferiority complex who is surprised to be chosen first

[astralscrivener]

keith and lance are so ride or die for each other it's not even funny

[ayoogirlie]

Before I start writing angst, let's go with something pleasant. I just recently started reading and watching MASHLE which is why I don't knowe many characters well.

MASHLE MAIN 5 X GN!READER (separated)

Main 5 falling in love with you!

Mash

This one is oblivious. He doesn't realise he holds special feelings for you. I believe at first he could have though of you as sibling.

You're just as important as his father so why not? The three of you could be a fine family.

He would share creampuff with you... just like with others. Honestly, it would be difficult to notice he likes you in that way. This man is so indifferent or more like he forgot to train his face muscles.

The thing that betrayed his feelings is the fact that he has been following you everywhere like a little duckling his mom.

Whether you have classes together or not. If you had them together — he would sit with you or at least close to you. Some rather prefer to sit alone, which helps them focus. On the other hand, if you have separated classes, he would always escort you to the class and only leave after making sure you sat down.

Mash's main love language would be act of service. I don't find him as a touchy guy — he would respect your personal space. The most he would do is grab the snip of your sleeve to not possibly lose you in crowd. (I find it cute honestly, like he would be to shy to grab your hand, so he would be happy with bare minimum.)

Going back to act of services. I think you would have a special privilege — flavoured creampuff. Coffee, chocolate, strawberry, etc., whichever you want. This guy would take you to kitchen and make you bake them together. Unless, your cooking is hopeless and you can set the kitchen on fire, then you're simply watching him work and talk about the silliest things.

Mash would definitely listen to your rambling. Well, at least he will try to. At some point, he would pass out, if he was overflowing with many new information. Please, go slow with him.

When asking others for help with you, he first would try to figure things out himself. Only if he had no more ideas, would he ask his friends for love advices (most likely Lance or Finn).

This guy is so sweet yet so clueless. He loves you so clumsily and as a boyfriend he doesn't change his attitude much. He already treated you in special way. Well, maybe he'll get more intimate with you. I'll leave it to your imagination.

Finn

I simply adore this boy. His love is as innocent as he is. Literally, he would be all red and shy when he realised his feelings for you.

He would get nervous around you and every possible physical contact would make him explode. He's too focused to not make any mistakes in front of you, that he forgets to relax.

Well, it's not like he's always like that. His heart would explode at this point. There are some moments, when he is even sweeter than he is now. It's when you simply sit somewhere and do nothing, just enjoying your existence. He feels so calm that he wish those moments would last forever.

Finn likes DIY. So I bet he would make some for you, it might be jewelry, plushie or something more practical. Whatever you'll ask for he will do. (If it's in terms of his skills.)

If you ask him to teach you how to make some, he would be more than happy. Who wouldn't be happy to spend time with their crush?

He would carefully explain everything and help you if you have any difficulties with the project. Sometimes I wonder where he gets all this patience from. Whether you would get discouraged or curse how hard it is, he would try to calm you down and explain your mistakes.

When I'm still talking about teaching. Study session. I just see with my eyes of imagination. The two of you sitting in library beside each other and bending over books. It depends on you — whether he's teaching you some subject or you just enjoy your company.

Finn loves animals. I think, he would always tell you many random fact about them and won't stop talking, until he gets a hold on himself.

When he finally remembers himself, he will start apologising and feeling bad about being the only one talking. Then you kave to reassure him that you really don't mind and he can continue.

As a boyfriend, he treats you very well. People might say he's a perfect boyfriend material, but you can see how much he tries and I hope you do as much for him as he does for you.

Lance

Honestly, I can't imagine him giving someone else attention than his sister. Like this sis-con on has Anna in his head. So you can imagine how everyone was surprised when they noticed his unusual behaviour towards you.

And it wasn't some big change. No. It was more subtle. He was less strict with you than he is with others. Whenever you seemed sad because of his, sometimes mean, comments, he would apologise. (It took him a lot of courage to say this simple words.) He was more careful with his act to not sadden you.

I believe that after some time of knowing each other he would tell you about his sister and maybe if he happens to trust you a lot — about her illness as well.

He strikes me as a gentleman at some point. He would hold the door for you, help you with school work and follow you almost everywhere as if it was his duty.

Unfortunately for you, his sister will always be his number one, so unless you accept this fact, I don't think he will try to do anything with your relationship.

As well as it was with Finn, you two would have study session together. This guy is so clever that it would be stupid not to ask for help with the subject, spell or other thing you have difficulties with.

He truly admires you. You saw him in numerous embarrassing situations, for example when he was talking to Anna's pictures etc. Everyone' else would already start avoiding him. Maybe that's why he finds you as a perfect match for himself. Someone who wouldn't judge his behaviour and just accept his 'imperfections'.

Lance would respect your personal space and it would have to be you who initiates physical contact (mostly before your relationship). But he would place his hand on your waist with excuse not to let you bump into others.

He looks like the guy who would give other people, who are talking to you, nasty glare, when you don't look. It's not that he doesn't believe in his charm, it's just the fact that he doesn't like others being to close or touchy with you.

As a boyfriend Lance becomes more possessive and clingy. He would hug you from behind and gets touchy when you least expect it. Well, at least you're never bored.

Dot

It's easy to captivate this hot-headed guy's heart... if you're a woman of course. Male readers have it harder. But now we are talking about the stage he is already in love.

He would always boast to his friends about how he's going to marry you with no shame. Of course, always when you're absent. If by chance you will witness him saying it. He would want to hide under ground.

He would always scream at the person, you would give too much attention. He gets easily jealous, but he act like thata with every male that gets too much attention from others.

That's why you don't realise he holds any special feelings towards you. He still acts like he act towards women, so you don't think any special of the way he treats you.

I believe Dot would be touchy with you. Like put his arm over your shoulder or surprise you from behind. Honestly, if he would have ever touched you in a way that would make you feel uncomfortable, as a man he is — he would never forgive himself.

In his eyes, he gives you special treatment. He doesn't play pranks on you and even with Lemon in room, he always focus on what you're saying and so on.

After some time, he gets more obvious that others notice his strange behaviour. He always stares at you, daydream about you two being together. His eyes are always following your person.

When you're close, he catch himself on enjoying your fragrance. Later of course, Dot will blame himself as well call himself a pervert. But you cannot be mad at him. He just can't get enough of you.

If he only could he would almost always hold you in his arms and never let go, while being too scared you might run away from him.

He is energetic, so as a boyfriend he would take you to many places. Date? Let's go to amusement park, if not, we have many other options. Of course, sometimes you two have home dates, where you just cuddle and enjoy eachother company.

Lemon

Congratulations. You just won over Mash and captured Lemon's heart. This turn of event surprised everyone, like literally everyone, even Mash.

Lemon would act similar like she did while having crush on Mash. She would be so delulu and talk about how the two of you are engaged and all (in fact you aren't... for now).

She would randomly grab your arm and hug it. People got used to seeing you this way. The two of you walking through the corridor, you look like those couples who always stick close to eachother.

She gets easily jealous of other people you're close with, expect for Mash, Lance, Finn and Dot, since she knows they won't try anything with you. When she feels threatened by someone, she would get closer to you or (in most cases) panic.

She would definitely share Cupid Gummies with you. Like she would buy it and almost immediately run to you only to give you some. She thinks of it as a special bond between the two of you.

Lemon blush a lot around you, that's for sure. You get too close? With red as tomato face, she would slap you. She gets a little violent when nervous, it's the fact you have to accept. But who can blame her? She's so happy to have you around that she cannot control her actions.

She's like a ray of sunshine, which is why whenever you're sad, she will try to make you feel better. Sometimes when words won't help, she just sits next to you. She wants you to know she will be always here for you.

You would get a lucky charm from her. One reason is that to keep you safe, other is to have her close to you. While making a design she would try to match with your taste. Like when she made Mash creampuff plushie, she would make something similar.

Whenever she would have problems with spells, she would go to you. Perfect excuse to spend time together! In exchange, she would teach you theory you would have problem with.

As a girlfriend, Lemon is very sweet. She wouldn't have to find excuses just to spend time with you. You would be often seen together eating lunch or walkings around while holding hands.

[marieracingteam]

A Flower to a Lilybug – ls.18

stepdad!Lance Stroll | series

word count: 1612

summary: The story of how Lance finally met Lily, or the story of how Lawrence became a flower before he became a grandpa.

Lily was just two years old when Lance met her mom, which meant that Lily wasn't really aware of all that was happening in her life.

She knew she had a mum and she knew, somewhere, she had a dad. Dad, however, was never around so she didn't really think much of him or his family, whom Lily had barely met. She also knew that mum had a mum and a dad who lived far away and she only saw once or twice a year and a few more times over the phone.

But that was pretty much all. For Lily, mum was her everything –and for the most part her only thing– for her whole short life.

That was until Lance came through.

Her mum and he had been talking for a whole year before she agreed to start calling their dates dates, but not before he met her daughter and she gave them their blessings.

Lance of course had accepted her pace, how could he not when he knew she was just protecting her daughter and herself after being betrayed by her last partner?

And because he knew how much she needed everything to be perfect, he tried extra hard to make everything perfect on that first day.

Maybe a little too hard.

He had spent long hours thinking about every single detail. He had even asked his father for help like he tended to do.

Maybe that is why he was so nervous when he first met Lily. The now three years old, in response, got also shy, probably sensing the grown-ups expectations.

“Hello Lily. I am Lance, mom’s friend. Mom has told me a lot about you and I wanted to meet you” he said while offering the girl his hand.

“Hi you!” she squealed before running back into the living room where she was playing with some dolls.

However, the dinner had gone more smoothly. At least at first. Lance had relaxed enough to make conversation with the little girl and Lily had quickly forgotten that she didn't know him when he started to ask her about the things she loved.

He had thought about gifting something to the little girl, but his father had told him to not buy the girl with expensive gifts. So instead he had learned to do paper dolls like Lily's mum had told him she loved to do.

Lily was so close to liking him when her mum started to breathe strangely.

“Peanuts” she screamed, grabbing her neck and making Lance run to where she always kept an EpiPen in her bag.

If he hadn't been so worried about the woman swelling up in his backseat, he would have probably been stressed about the crying little girl he had left with his father at home.

Because he loved his father, he truly loved the old men, but he could be scary and he knew he was bringing down his chances of winning the little girl’s heart by the second.

“Sorry, love. The bakery must have mix up the cakes. I don't know how that happened. I am so sorry. I told the man a thousand times to not put any nuts” Lance said again and again while he ran to the hospital.

The woman just laughed at the situation and when Lance looked at her through the rearview she was smiling. He didn't know then, but that was the first time someone had cared so much about her and her daughter.

And Lance didn't have anything to worry about, because back at home his father was doing all the hard work with Lily.

“So…” Lawrence said looking at the little girl who was sitting on the sofa eating ice cream “I heard you like doing paper dolls”

“Yeah” she answered, licking the spoon clean “And you?”

“Not my expertise, but I can see the charm in it”

Lily just looked up at him. When she had calmed down after the old man explained to her that her mom was fine but she needed a bandaid to be perfect, the girl had started to analyze the man.

Her mum had told her beforehand all about her friend and the get-together they were going to have that night, but she didn't expect any of that. Her mother had forgotten to tell her that after dessert they would run out and leave her alone at home with an unknown man.

Lily knew she was just a little girl, but wasn't that what her mother had told her not to do?

“You are weird, Flower” the girl finally said after deciding that she could trust the strange man with the funny name. If her mother trusted him enough to leave her in his care, who was she to not do it?

“Why is that?” Lawrence asked sitting beside her on the couch. 

The girl just shrugged her shoulders. Her mother had taught her that it was wrong to say those things to people, especially older ones. The previous comment had slipped out of her mouth.

In her defense, Lily would say that Lance's dad was strange indeed. Lance too. Her mother's friend had sweaty hands and had dropped his spoon more times than she had. Plus, mom's friend's face turned red all the time. All the times her mom spoke at least.

But Lance's dad was even weirder. All his hair was white, all. Plus he was the oldest person Lily had ever seen, even older than Mom's friend from work who had just turned 40 recently and invited them to her party. The man was tall and was wearing a suit like on TV. Lily had never seen anyone on the streets of her town in Canada wearing one of those outfits beyond the movies.

Plus, Lance's dad had let her eat the ice cream straight out of the container to stop her from crying, which was weird, because her mom never let her do that. But she wasn't going to complain.

“And what is that Flower thing?” Lawrence asked finally.

“Your name, duh” Lily responded with the spoon still in her mouth.

See? Weird. The man had just said that was his name.

“My name is Lawrence” the man corrected.

“Florence,” she said back before making the connection “flower”.

The man laughed a deep laugh that reminded Lily of movie villains. And he looked like one. If he didn't have such a funny name, Lily probably would have been scared of him. “I am not a flower”

“You look like one” the girl responded, sure of her opinion.

“Why is that?” the man pressed, amused at the conversation.

“The white petals” she said pointing at his hair “Do you know how to braid?”

Lawrence laughed again. Lance had told him a lot about the woman he was meeting and had told him some things he was discovering about her daughter, but Lawrence did not expect the pleasant surprise that was meeting first the mother at a gala and then the girl, even if it was under those circumstances.

The mother was polite and affectionate with his son. Lawrence had been doubtful of her at first, as he always used to be when someone new came into their lifes. But at no time had she shown interest or asked for anything in exchange of her company like other used to do. If Lawrence was right, and he usually was, the only reason she was still with Lance was because she was really interested in his son.

And the girl. The girl had been a breath of fresh air.

It had been a long time since Lawrence last was around small children. His children were already grown and despite his insistence, his daughter had not yet made him a grandfather.

Even if the girl wasn't exactly Lance's, if everything went as his son expected that night, this wouldn't be the last time Lawrence would see the girl.

And, at that moment, he felt like it was in his power to help make everything happen that way, even if he himself had shown him his reluctance when he found out that the woman his son was with already had a daughter from a previous relationship.

“Yeah, I do. Do you want one braid?” he offered.

“No” she said still licking the empty spoon.

“Lance also knows how to braid. He is very good at it” lied the man. He didn't truly know why he was doing it but he guessed that he will need the extra help impressing the little girl after almost poisining her mom.

While waiting for her mom to come back, Lily decided the man wasn’t that bad anymore. And he was a flower after all. A flower who had ended up braiding her hair into smalls braids and had cut the paper dolls Lance had brought for her. 

He was still a little weird and a little scary looking but he wasn't that bad.

And he was comfy. She had found that when she laid her braided head in his chest while playing with the dolls. 

And! When her mom asks her tomorrow when she wakeds up on her own bed surrounded by all her plushies, she will say that the flower was a magician. Which was a pretty impressive story.

Even when she had swore she wasn't going to fall asleep until her mom came back, the flower had charm her into sleeping while rubbing her belly, like she did with her mom's friend's puppy.

She may not know a lot about old people or grandparents but the flower wasn't that bad himself. And maybe his son wasn't so bad either.

[pizzabiscuitwithglasses]

Two people one bed trope with the mashle gang (nothing steamy, mostly crack)

So I recently fell into the mashle rabbit hole and there's not enough content so here are my thoughts about the main cast having to share a room with you, their crush:

Those who will accept to share the bed with you:

Dot is very excited about sleeping in the same bed with you but he has never done it before so he is very nerveous. He spends the whole night awake, sweating bullets, unable to move a muscle and barely breathing as he is anxious about disturbing your sleep. He will still boast the next day to his friends about the "hot" night you spent sharing a bed but everyone is calling out his bluff. 4 out 10 his immobility was concerning you had to check his pulse thinking he died but also don't talk big when you can't even hold a hand?

Lance would probably not care much. He hops in his pyjamas and sleeps on his side his back facing away from you, hugging a giant pillow with the picture of his little sister on it. Also he either sleeps with open eyes or some other uncanny sleeping stuff . 5/10, good night sleep but the lack of physical proximity was underwhelming plus the sleep talk took you by surprise

Lemon pretends to be surprised even though it's no coincidence you have to share the same bed (she swears it's a honest mistake tehehehe). It would be like a nice pyjama party but she will keep asking you questions all night long. If you are still able by some miracle to fall asleep despite her never ending talk, you will wake up after a short moment felling a pair of glowing yellow globes eerily staring at you as if they were piercing your soul... 5 out of 10, too much activity and staring with not enough sleep.

Those who prefer jumping in the mouth of a volcano to jumping in the same bed with you:

Of course Mash breaks the door to your room and is shocked to be greeted by one big bed instead of two small ones. However, don't you worry, he puts the door back in its frame and will guard it to make sure no will disturb your sleep. You used magic to fix the door? Huh, he just remembered he wanted to try a new training. He does an invisible chair and sleeps like that for the whole night. He really doesn't want to invade your intimacy 6/10 confused but got the heart in the right place.

Finn tries complaining to the staff about the mistake which makes you think that maybe he doesn't like you. Him becoming a blushing mess when confronted with the reality of sharing a room makes you reconsider your first impression. He deeply appologizes for the uncomfortable situation and you cannot convince him to get in the bed with you. He chooses to sleep on the chair. 7 out 10 a true gentleman.

Bonus: (because why not)

Like his brother Rayne tries to make the management fix the issue. His intimidating looks and impressive title do not take him very far. Despite your reassurances, he refuses to take advantage of the situation. He sleeps in the corridor, his back leaning on your room's door. 8 out of 10, a chivalrous knight.

You think that Orter would give the hotel an earful when the promised double room is just one king bed instead but the sight makes his brain short cut. He looks at the bed then back at you, announces he will get a drink before leaving and never looking back. He doesn't invite you and drinks the night away at the hotel bar all alone. ?? out 10 because you were kinda hopeful he was coming back and that would spark the begining of your love story but at the same time you appreciate his thoughtfulness about giving all of the space you need??

Ryoh would moonwalk out of the room and go back home to spend the night with his family. He would probably use light magic or teleportation IDK. What I do know is that sharing a room let alone a bed with somebody else would be cheating and ain't no way that man gonna cheat on his baby mama!! 1000 out of 10 for our loyal king 🤴

[autisticlancemcclain]

“Neither of you are getting it.”

Twin sighs come from his laptop speakers. Lance lifts his head up from where he’s smushed it into his pillow to glare at his two best friends who apparently hate him, for some reason.

“I mean, there’s not much to get,” Pidge says. “You’re a big dumb gay loser and this predicament effects you emotionally.” She looks at Hunk as if to ask, right?, and Hunk, who is a traitor of the worst kind, shrugs in agreement.

“I don’t even get what you’re worried about, man. You have consistently been the one to get him the best gifts for years. None of us even try to beat you.”

“That’s the point!” Lance shrieks. “You’re not listening! I had ideas every other year, Hunk! This year I have nothing!” He taps his head aggressively. “There is not one thing in here! Nada!”

Pidge snickers. “Well, that’s not new.”

“Can it, Pidgeon.”

Hunk holds his hands up placatingly before the two of them can really start to go at it. “Alright, alright. Pidge, have mercy on him. He’s suffering. Lance —” he falters. “Dude, you walked into that one. Sorry.”

Lance will concede to that point. He kind of set his own trap. But still, he’s having a crisis, Pidge as his best friend should be going easy on him, so he sticks his tongue out at her.

“I just — ugh.” He takes a moment to fluff his pillows back up before falling backwards on them and throwing a hand over his face. This is a ridiculous thing to be so bothered by, and he knows it, but he is. Bothered by it, that is. He hasn’t been this lost since the first year they were in space.

“Lance,” Hunk says gently, startling him. “It’s August, dude. Keith’s birthday is two months away. You really, truly, do not need to be stressing about it.”

Lance’s eyes trace the long-faded glow-in-the-dark stars on his ceiling. His gazes unfocuses on the red-orange star that represents Pollux, which has always been his favourite.

“This will be the first time I’ve seen him in months,” Lance says quietly. “I want him —” he swallows. The dryness of his throat makes his voice scratchy. “I want to be perfect.”

It. He had meant to say, I want it to be perfect. Because that’s what he wants — he wants Keith to get here safely and actually be able to stay this time and nothing to go wrong and him to celebrate his birthday surrounded by his loved ones, his friends and family. And — Lance. Wants to be there. Also.

He swallows again. It’s harder this time.

“He’s going to love anything you give him,” Pidge says, uncharacteristically soft. “You know he’s just going to be glad to see you upright and in one piece.”

Lance winces and the strained quality of her voice, the sudden darkness in Hunk’s expression. He knows he’s the cause of it.

It was hard on the team, his death.

He knows it was. That’s why he never talks about it. (They were never supposed to even know about it. When Lance’s soul was yanked back into his body and Allura gasped in relief and hugged him to her chest and sobbed out, I thought I was too late, Lance clamped his mouth shut and kept it that way. When he had rare moments on their long trip home where the adrenaline began to fade and he felt his heart begin to slow, he picked fights. He ran sims. He made stupid decisions. He kept his body distracted and his mind wound so tightly around Red’s that there was no chance for it to slip, to remember what had happened to him, to fade back into that dark and silent place. He kept his mouth shut and kept his quintessence dragged up to the highest level he could bring it.

And when they defeated Sendak, and they had to sacrifice their lions or sacrifice their friend, Lance’s hands shook and he made the obvious choice. And he doesn’t know what happened, when the adrenaline finally faded and the one thing keeping him tethered to their plane disappeared, but he knows when his soul was yanked back into his body, permanently this time, his friends wouldn’t answer his questions or let him out of their sight and all of them had the same haunted look to their eyes. He has never had the strength to ask. But he has been careful with himself, since. He covers his Altean marks — a testament of how much Allura gave of herself to keep him alive — and keeps his feet planted on Earth and out of danger and knows that he owes it to them to keep himself safe.)

“Well, anything I could give him would be better than what you got him last year,” Lance says loudly, beating back the oppressive silence that has fallen over them. It works — Pidge scowls at him, remembering the plant she had got him that had turned out to be highly toxic to any Galra. Hunk snickers at the memory of the bright blue hives that had covered Keith’s skin for weeks.

“How was I to know?” Pidge cries. Hunk and Lance’s increasing laughter only seems to make her angrier “He — ugh! It doesn’t matter, anyway, because you handmade him a leather sheath for his knife so he wasn’t looking at what I was giving him anyway! Shut up! Ugh!”

“It’s true,” Hunk agrees, chuckling. “We should make you gift stuff last. It’s not fair and makes everyone else look bad. He couldn’t take his eyes off that sheath, last year. He still wears it every day.”

Pidge mutters something in her hand that sounds suspiciously like “he couldn’t take his eyes off of someone,” so Lance ignores her in favour of whining again.

“Yeah, well, there’s no point this year because I’ve got nothing. I started making that sheath in June. I started making his jacket from two years ago in March. But this year I didn’t have any ideas and now I don’t have the time, even if I do come up with something. ” He sighs, defeated. “It sucks. I’ve hardly seen him outside of a computer screen and I’m only going to see him less, and I can’t even give him something to remember me by.”

“You’re talking like you’re never going to see him again,” Pidge points out. “There would be way less pressure if you just — saw him more, dude.”

Lance scoffs. “Yeah, right. Lemme just pack up and run off to space with him. Boom, all problems solved.”

He blinks.

He sits up so fast he very nearly brains himself on his bed frame.

“Holy shit,” he whispers. He looks over at his friends, who are smiling widely. His heart pounds.

Holy shit.

“I gotta go,” he shouts, scrambling to grab his laptop.

“Goodbye, Lance,” Hunk says, rolling his eyes fondly.

Pidge makes a crude gesture at him because she’s the worst. “Bye, gay pining loser!”

He slams the laptop lid shut and holds it tightly to his chest. Everything, finally, starts to click into place — Lance smiles; small at first, but quickly his mouth spreads so wide his cheeks ache, and his eyes practically squish shut.

He knows what to do.

———

On the morning of October 23rd, he is stressing.

“You’re embarrassing,” calls Allura, from where she‘s been lazing on the couch and eating pineapples for the last three days.

“I regret asking for your help,” Lance grunts, struggling to lift a sack of flour. He side eyes her. “Especially because you’re supposed to be helping, Miss Superstrength.”

Allura snorts, shoving another chunk of pineapple in her mouth. “I am helping. If I wasn’t here you would have talked yourself out of this several times over. You’re welcome!”

“Ugh,” Lance says, because she’s right and he knows it. “I’m not letting you lick the spoon.”

“What? Hey!”

He does let her lick the spoon. Because he has no discipline. But to her eternal credit she does actually help, too, and in more ways than just picking him up and physically shaking him out of his many freak outs, and he has a lot of them.

He’s been planning this for weeks. There are so many aspects, so many moving parts, that it’s just — stressful. Trying to put together a party that balances all the people who want to come together and celebrate Keith’s 25th with every single time constraint and restoration effort and even Keith’s own discomfort with too much fanfare is…a lot. Plus all the actual stuff that goes into hosting people at a party — Lance absolutely would not be able to do any of this without Allura’s help. She is, after all, his best friend, even though she drives him crazy and always has, in more ways than one.

At eleven thirty, when all the (tasteful, despite what his siblings had insisted was too boring) decorations have been set up and most of the food has been prepared, Allura clasps her palms to his cheeks and says, “Lance, breathe.”

Lance looks at her with wide eyes and says, “I’m cancelling everything.”

“You’re not.”

“I am. I can’t do this. What was I thinking? This is — cringe. Ridiculous.” His chest shakes on an inhale. “What was I thinking, ‘Llura?”

She hums thoughtfully. Her thumbs trace his cheekbones, wiping away the makeup that covers his Altean marks, making Lance twitch but not move.

“You were thinking,” she says quietly, “about how long it has been since everyone has been on the same planet.”

He swallows. “Yeah.”

“And how much we have all missed each other.

His shaking hands come up to grip her wrists, breath shuddering as he exhales.

“Yes.”

“And. Maybe. How much you miss Keith.” She pulls her hands away from his face and wraps them around his hands. “How much you miss the stars, even.”

“I’m scared,” he admits.

She squeezes his hands. “When has that stopped you?”

———

It’s three thirty and there’s still no sign of Keith.

Shiro and the rest of the Atlas crew, including Hunk and Veronica, arrived arrived sometime around one. The Holts came in right on their heels. Kolivan, Krolia, and a few other Blades Keith has kept up with over the years showed up a few hours ago. Lance’s family has been here the whole time, and Coran and Romelle came with Allura. Everyone that Lance had invited to come is here.

Except the one person Lance actually wants to come.

“Lance,” Shiro greets, somehow sensing his anxiety like the guru goody goody he is and popping up next to him.

Lance smiles anyway. He’s missed him too much to do anything else — he hasn’t seen anyone on the Atlas since their last restock, ten weeks ago.

“Hey, Shiro.”

“You freaking out?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. I’d be shocked if you weren’t, you walking Xanax advertisement.”

That startles a laugh out of Lance, and he shoves him, grateful for the distraction. Shiro grins wide and throws an arm around him, guiding him away from the front door — where he’s been biting his nails and staring at the sky in anxious hope for the last twenty minutes — and back to the rest of the party, ducking under flailing limbs and the random football that someone has brought out for some reason (Marco, probably).

“He’s gonna come, you know. He’s been excited about it since you invited him. I have received no less than nine hundred and twenty-two texts about it. It’s all very sweet and embarrassing. He’s coming, Lance.”

Lance huffs. “Unless he’s dead or maimed somewhere. I did some quick stat evals and there’s at 37% chance he was attacked on the flight to Earth and is bleeding out as we speak.”

Shiro stops them. He blinks at Lance several times. He sighs.

“You actually need to see a psychiatrist. Genuinely.”

“Nah.”

Shiro flicks him on the forehead, but the fond smile stays affixed to his face. Soon Lance finds himself relaxing, tucked under Shiro’s arm. He’s probably right — he usually is. Keith is chronically late, just as a person. Lance even told him the party started at ten just to make it more likely that he’d show up before everyone left. It’s not that he doesn’t want to be places — he just struggles with the concept of time passing, and also gets distracted a lot. (There are a lot of people who need Keith’s help, after all, and he’s a bleeding heart if Lance has ever known one. All humans are wired to respond to calls for help, but Keith seems almost attuned to them. If Lance thinks about his crooked smile and kind eyes for too long he gets physically nauseous.)

As Lance’s watch ticks its way to four o’clock, a light streaks across the sky, and before Lance knows what he’s doing he ducks under Shiro’s arm and starts running. He flings open the back gate and slides down the sandy hills, barely managing not to trip on rocks and pits in the sand where children have dug little pools. He doesn’t bother to slow as the aircraft makes its fiery descent, confident the pilot will not hit him, and by the time he makes it across the beach his bare feet burn and he’s stepped on a sharp shell and lost his jacket somewhere near the house. But it doesn’t matter, because the craft lands and seconds later the door flings open and Keith comes sprinting out, still clad in armour, hair long and thick and braided back, and he runs at Lance at full speed and they collide at the top of a sand dune and Lance leaps into his arms and Keith loses his balance and they go tumbling down, laughing, Keith’s hand on his waist and Lance’s fingers clutching tightly at his shoulders.

“You made it!” Lance shouts, smile wider than he ever thought capable.

Keith laughs again, full-bodied and relieved, crooked incisors on full display and long neck pulled back as his head rests on the ground.

“I know! I’m late, I’m sorry, I lost track of time and —”

“You always lose track of time,” Lance says warmly. He traces a strand of hair that has loosened from Keith’s braid, brushing it off his forehead and tucking it behind his ear. He stays where he is, half-pinning Keith into the sand, knees on either side of him, re-memorizing the curve of his grin and the indigo of his eyes and the scars on his face and the softness of his gaze. Suddenly his chest aches, painful in the best possible way, and his stomach pits and swirls and butterflies flutter wildly in his abdomen. Heat zaps up his veins and sparks through his arteries. The slowly setting mid-autumn sun casts golden light on Keith’s face and Lance is reminded, again, how breathtaking things are outside of Earth.

“Happy birthday,” he breathes, choking on the words.

Keith’s eyes crinkle. His hand comes up to cup his cheek, thumb pressing gently on the gold Altean marks. They curve perfectly around the shape of his fingerprint.

“I missed you, Bluebell.”

Someone huffs. “Yeah, and he nearly killed us trying to get here. Some kind of leader you are, Captain.”

Keith flushes, gently pushing Lance up so he can get up and glare at Ezor properly. “We were fine!”

“We crossed nine hundred million lightyears in two days!”

“I took a shortcut!”

“Through weblum mating grounds!”

Lance punches his friend in the shoulder. Keith pouts at him, wounded.

“You flew through weblum mating grounds?!”

“It was fine!” Keith defends. “It wasn’t even an issue!”

Acxa scoffs incredulously. “We were chased by fourteen weblums at once, Kogane.”

“But did you die?”

All three of Keith’s crew roll their eyes. Keith crosses his arms smugly. Lance loves him so fiercely that it hurts.

“Keith!”

With what Lance can only call divine instinct, he has enough forethought to throw himself out of the way before a five foot nothing blur throws herself at Keith’s person and sends them both crashing to the ground, significantly more painfully that Keith and Lance’s whole thing. Keith groans loudly, but Pidge doesn’t even give him half a second to complain, dragging him back upright and hugging him properly. Keith, softie that he is, hugs her back immediately, smiling into her hair.

“Hey, Pidge.”

“Happy birthday, loser! Birthday beats!”

She, immediately, starts to let him have it, impervious to Keith’s yelps. He attempts to squirm away, but Zethrid, lover of violence and also loud supporter of Pidge in general, firmly clamps onto his shoulder to allow Pidge to assault him in peace.

“That was twenty-six!” he says in outrage when she finishes.

She smiles pleasantly. “You were late.”

Hunk, thankfully, chooses that moment to jog over, carrying an ice pack because he’s an angel and also a genius.

“Figured Pidge would come in fists swinging,” he jokes, leaning down to hug Keith tightly. “Happy birthday, man. It’s been too long.”

“It’s been two weeks,” Keith protests, but he looks like he agrees.

It doesn’t take long for the rest of the party to flock over, despite the fact that it would be much easier for everyone to just wait for Keith to walk over to them. Lance isn’t surprised — it’s not like he could wait, after all. When Keith is around, people gather. Such is the way of the world.

He smiles at the crowd of Keith’s loved ones, and especially at the bewilderment on his face. It’s been years, but Lance knows that he still gets surprised when he’s reminded how big his family has gotten. It’s nice to see that reminder written all over his face. He edges out of the smattering of people and starts to head back to the house, figuring he might as well start setting up the table to get dinner started now that Keith’s here. Most of it is already cooked and keeping warm in the oven, but he figured it would be best to wait until everyone was ready to —

“Hey, Lance, wait up.”

He startles when a hand wraps its way around his wrist, relaxing when he recognises the calloused fingers and leather-covered palm. Keith jogs over the rest of the way now that he has Lance stopped, falling into step next to him.

“What’re you doing?” Lance asks, looking at him urgently. “Go say hi to everyone!”

Keith shrugs. “I’ll get there.” He flashes another smile at Lance and it’s crooked and familiar and Lance is weak in the knees. “I started an argument about human versus Altean time measuring systems. Everyone is now picking sides. They won’t notice I’m gone for the next ten minutes at least. I’m all yours, Sharpshooter.”

Lance resists the urge to bury himself in the sand and die of mortification. There’s actually no physical reason for Keith to look the way that he does. It’s — too much. The smouldering eyes and sturdy shoulders are one thing, but with the whole — grin and hair and wide hands and fucking — everything else; it’s too much. It’s a lot. Keith should maybe — wear a mask, or something. Or a hood. Or be more of a klutz, just so he’s humbled slightly.

“Oh,” Lance croaks, trying desperately not to focus on the way Keith’s hand is still holding onto Lance. “That’s — cool.”

“Cool.”

“Cool.”

Blue, Red, if your spirits are still kicking around somewhere, send help, he prays at the heavens.

Apparently they are, because the heavens do indeed provide.

The air in front of the sparks and warps, flashing blue so bright Lance had to squeeze his eyes shut. He hears a loud bark, and opens his eyes again just in time to catch the ball of fur and floof that throws himself into his arms.

“Kosmo!” he cries, pulling away from Keith in his haste to hug the space-wolf tightly. Kosmo yips in delight, covering Lance’s face in dog slobber as he wiggles around in excitement. “Oh, buddy, I was wondering where you were! Mwah! Mwah mwah mwah!”

“He saw the crowd on the descent and got nervous,” Keith explains, scratching Kosmo’s fur fondly. “He was hiding in the back, huh, buddy?”

“Like father like son,” Lance teases. He adjusts the big dog into his arms so he’s half on his shoulders, panting right next to his ear and giving him gross slobbery kisses every three seconds.

“I do not hide from crowds,” Keith huffs. “And he can walk, Lance. Don’t baby him. He’s always spoiled after he hangs out with you.”

“You do so. And of course I spoil the little baby!” Lance coos, scratching under his chin. Kosmo howls in excitement, tail thumping hard against Lance’s hip. “Who’s the bestest boy? Who is my favourite in the whole big universe? It’s you! Yes, Kosmo-baby, it’s you! Good boy!”

“He’s not your favourite,” Keith grumps.

“Yes he is! Oh, yes he is!”

He coos over Kosmo for the whole walk back to the house, only setting him down when they make their way to the kitchen. Keith grabs the dog gently under the ear when he finally stands on his own, bending down to look him straight in the eyes.

“Kosmo,” he says quietly, angling himself slightly away from Lance, “remember what we Talked About.” He stares at the wolf for several moments. “You know. About the — thing.”

Amazingly, the dog seems to bark in understand. Keith nods in satisfaction, patting him on the head. “Good. Go do.” With a poof Kosmo disappears again, leaving just the two of them in the kitchen.

Lance pouts. “Aw. I wanted to spend more time with him. I haven’t seen him in months.”

Keith looks affronted. “You haven’t seen me in months!”

Lance turns away to hide his smile, busying himself with the food. “Eh.” He waves an oven-mitt-clad hand dismissively. “I text you all the time.

“You’re a bully,” Keith pouts. “You’re being mean to me on my birthday.”

“At the party I put together for you, dweeb. Don’t you pout at me.”

In response, Keith inserts himself into Lance with the guise of helping him plate and pouts harder.

“Bully,” he emphasizes.

Lance flicks him on the nose. Keith catches his hand and holds it hostage between two of his, rubbing his thumb along the bump of Lance’s wrist. Lance considers screaming.

“Help or get out of my kitchen,” he manages instead.

Smirking, Keith does, loading garlic knots onto a plate and stealing several, thinking he’s slick. He’s not — Lance notices, but it’s Keith’s birthday and Lance also ate like six already, so he lets it slide.

They have everything ready to go in under five minutes, loading up as much as they can carry and heading outside to set it all out. Everyone else is back by the time they get there, and Hunk and Shiro scramble to come help set up. Very quickly the party is in full swing, people eating and laughing and wishing Keith a thousand happy birthdays. Keith has always claimed to hate attention and crowds, but he’s — glowing, really. His smile doesn’t leave his face. Maybe it’s that he’s older and maybe it’s that he knows everyone. But more likely it’s the easy confidence that’s grown in him over the years, sprouting from the knowledge that he is good and he is kind and he is loved, and trusting everyone who assures him this is true. Lance remembers when he hunched his shoulders and scowled at anyone who looked at him too long. Now he smiles when someone calls his name.

There’s no rhyme or reason to the party. Lance had attempted to plan it, but given up quickly — he knows his people. They’ll flutter around something until inspiration hits and they’ll flutter around something else. The only constant has been food and loading Kosmo up with affection.

As the sun begins its journey below the horizon, someone — Adam — forces Keith into a random lawnchair and says, “Open your gifts, gremlin.”

Immediately, everyone else clambers to grab their gifts and gather around, ignoring Keith’s protests of “I’m twenty-five goddamn years old, I don’t need gifts, you people waste your time and money —” and arguing over who goes first.

Adam goes first. Obviously.

Despite Keith’s grumbling, he’s very obviously touched. He gets a range of things, from a fancy knife from his mother (again) to a framed photo from Shiro, with he and Adam grinning widely at a camera as a young Keith snores in Shiro’s lap. Keith starts bawling some time around gift number three and never really stops. Lance tries to hand him tissues, but after he uses up an entire box decides to let him be a big emotional dork in piece.

“Is this a crystal from the first Balmera we ever visited,” Keith sobs.

Hunk smiles, amused. “It is.”

He makes his way over to Keith’s lawn chair and hugs him tightly for several minutes, muttering something and pressing dozens of kisses into his hair. Keith holds him tightly. Lance himself cries on several occasions, but he’s not alone.

“I just love everyone so much,” Keith blubbers.

“Here we go,” teases Allura, but she’s the one to shoo everyone out of his space to give him a break. “Take a few minutes, darling. Gather yourself. Let me know when you’re up for company again.”

Keith nods at her gratefully. Kosmo makes his way onto Keith’s lap and plants himself there, curling up and laying his head on Keith’s knees. Lance sits on the lawn chair next to Keith, offering him a glass of water that he accepts gratefully.

“I do this every year,” Keith laments, attempting to dry his eyes.

Lance pats him delicately on the hand. “Don’t worry. It’s charming.”

Keith sniffles. “It’s embarrassing.”

“Yes.”

Lance is the only one who hasn’t given Keith his present. Well, and Allura, technically, since she’s part of it. Part of him wants to do it now, get it over with. He even finds the words for it, but then Pidge hollers something about cake, and Keith, who has the biggest sweet tooth in the entire universe, brightens, looking at Lance hopefully, and Lance swallows it down.

“Go sit at the table,” Lance orders. “I’m doing candles and you’re blowing them out.”

“That’s babyish,” Keith protests stubbornly.

“No candles, no cake.”

“Ugh.”

Keith gets up and goes to sit at the table, Kosmo pattering after him.

Smiling to himself, cheeks redder than he would like, Lance ducks back into the kitchen, digging around the cupboards for the candles he bought the other day and carefully pulling the cake out of the fridge.

It’s chocolate-chocolate-chocolate-chocolate. Quadruple chocolate. It’s chocolate cake with chocolate custard and chocolate frosting covered in chocolate decorations. What it is is sugar on a platter, and Keith will devour it. Lance spent more hours than he’s willing to admit on making it. If anyone questions him even a little he is going to die on the spot.

He carefully sticks twenty six candles — one for wishing — on the top of the cake, lighting twenty-five of them. Everyone is already sat down by the time he walks back outside, and the second Coran sees them he starts singing loudly, and everyone else is quick to join in. As much as Keith tries to roll his eyes about the truly startling amount of flame on his cake, nothing he can do can hide the obvious excitement that lights up his face upon sight of the chocolate monstrosity. He takes a deep breath and blows out the candles when the song ends, extinguishing all but one. Immediatey, a ripple of teasing snickers and ooooooou’s fill the air.

“One candle left! You’re gonna get a boyfriend this year!” Pidge shouts, looking directly at Lance.

Both Keith and Lance flush up to their foreheads.

“Cut the cake!” Allura shouts, because she is a true ally and Lance loves her.

Grateful for the distraction, Lance does, nudging Keith out of the way when he tries.

“If you cut the cake then you can’t get the first slice, dorkbrain. Sit down. Let me.”

He does let Lance cut the cake, which makes Lance feel touched for some reason. God, Shiro is right. He needs a psychiatrist. He hates it when Shiro is right.

He’s very smug to receive dozens of compliments on his cake, highest of all from Keith, who scarfs down his first piece in literal seconds (thirty seven, to be exact). He has several more. There will be no leftovers.

But Lance knew that.

It doesn’t take long for people to start milling about again; finishing their dessert and picking at the various fruit trays and chatting and watching the last rays of sun disappear. Lance twitches nervously, stealing glances at Keith, until Allura walks up to him, pinches him on the shoulder, and says, “Get your quiznak together.”

And Lance grumbles, “Yeesh, woman. Alright,” and forces himself to walk over to Keith, who is spinning some hugely exaggerated story to Nadia and Sylvio.

“Children,” Lance says when Keith finally takes a breath, “Tío Lance has to talk to Keith about boring adult things. Go harass your Tío Marco, it will be fun.”

“Quieres tiempo a solas con tu nooooooovioooooo,” the twins singsong in unison, and then run away cackling. Lance flushes bright red and considers pelting strawberries at them like the little shits deserve.

“What was that?” Keith asks, bewildered.

“Probable cause,” Lance mutters darkly.

Keith snorts. “Please don’t murder your niblings.”

“That’ll be my gift to you. Not committing homicide on your birthday.” He scratches the back of his neck. “Well, not really.”

Keith raises his eyebrows. “You mean…” He gestures vaguely at everything. “This isn’t already my gift?”

Lance shrugs.

“Lance, come on! This is more than enough. It must have taken you weeks to prepare.” He shakes his head, looking at Lance with soft, kind eyes. “You always do so much for me.”

Lance shudders, weak under Keith’s gaze.

“I like to.” He pauses. “I miss you. Always. It — fills the time, to do things for you.”

Keith reaches up and brushes some sand from Lance’s hair. He lingers, after, tracing his fingers along the shell of his ear, resting his hand against Lance’s neck. Lance closes his eyes, leaning into it, letting himself have this affection he’s craved like nothing else for months.

“I miss you, too. Constantly. Sometimes you’re all I think about, up there.” He sighs, and Lance can hear the tired, enticing smile on his face. “Wish you were watching my back again, Sharpshooter. No one else does it quite like you.”

Lance forces his eyes open again, although he can’t bring himself to meet Keith’s eyes. He traces the crooked line of his nose, instead, the tilt of his thick brows.

“You going back tonight?”

“Nah, I’ll stay a couple days. I’ve got nothing pressing for another week.”

“Oh, thank God.”

Tell him. Tell him. Tell him, chants the Allura that lives in his head.

Give me a goddamn second, he snaps back at it.

“Uh, Allura and I have been. Working. On a project.”

Keith tilts his head. “Oh?”

“Yeah, she’s here a lot. Obviously.” He gestures to his Altean marks, which he has just remembered are uncovered. He’s fine — all systems are running and he is a-okay. But his situation was a little different than Shiro’s. A little more Frankenstein. Lance depends on quintessence heavier than anyone else — he’s probably fine to make his own and live his life, but…he’s always struggled with depression. And Allura worries. So she wormholes to Earth regularly to hang out and make sure he’s not too low.

They have a lot of time to scheme, the Blue Paladins of Voltron.

“Obviously,” Keith agrees. Unlike everyone else, he doesn’t avoid looking at his marks; doesn’t wince when he’s reminded of them. The only change in his eyes is a look of determination, a renewed intensity in which he watches Lance. It’s a little bit intoxicating.

“I love Earth,” Lance says quietly. “It will always be my home. I will always want to come back here. I want to die here.” He finally meets Keith’s eyes. “But.”

Keith’s eyes are wide. The hand still resting on the curve of Lance’s neck twitches, slightly.

“But?” he asks, breathless.

“I’ve been helping her organize plans for a castleship. A little smaller than the old one, but — you know. Similar. It’s something to do. I’ll feel better knowing you guys are together, up there, fighting as a team together. There’s the Atlas, but it’s not the same. It’s not Voltron.”

“Oh.” Some of the excitement dims from Keith’s expression, although he takes great care to keep the smile firmly on his face. “That’s great, Lance. I miss the castle too. It’ll be a little more stable, and missions will —”

“And I’m coming with you,” Lance blurts.

Keith freezes.

“To space. Permanently. Um, mostly. I still want to come back to Earth and see my mom and everybody but you know. I miss everybody. I’m lonely. And being a farmer is actually super duper boring. No offense to farmers, but I want to shoot shit again. I even miss training, which is crazy, because I hate training —”

“Lance,” Keith says, and Lance says “Yeah?” and then he’s being pulled forward and Keith’s other hand comes to rest on his hip and he is being kissed.

“Oh,” he breathes, eyes fluttering shut and words fading from his brain. His hands slide into Keith’s hair without his conscious thought, and he tilts his head and lets Keith devour him as the butterflies storm in his stomach and kisses Keith back like he will get all the breath he needs from Keith’s lungs. His head spins and his knees go weak and Keith smells like pine and sandalwood and his lips are chapped and his hands are calloused and it’s the most wonderfully strange mix of foreign and familiar, bexause Lance knows all these things, but he has never known them in this way.

“Finally!” someone shouts, and soon there are wolf whistles and catcalls and Keith’s smile is pressed against his and Lance can feel the press of his crooked incisors against his bottom lip and he could live off the sensation.

“Happy birthday,” he whispers, half-drowned out by the noise of their teasing friends.

“Exactly as I wished it to be,” Keith whispers back, and then kisses him again and again and again.

[antiquepearlss]

I can’t imagine how awkward and uncomfortable the first few weeks post-betrayal must have been for Hugo.

Because yeah, in the heat of the moment after being saved, Varian forgives Hugo. But what about after? No matter how much Hugo apologizes and swears he is loyal to him, that’s such a massive tear in trust. Varian can’t possibly fully forgive and trust him again, no one can. Of course, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t love him.

So, they’re a couple, their quest is complete, Nuru and Yong are back home, everything is settled, what now?

Hugo needs to find himself. He needs to figure out who he is aside from a thief. He has a family now, but unfortunately this family doesn’t fully trust him. He has a boyfriend now, but they have a long way to go before they can go back to what they were before and grow as a couple.

Varian spends a lot of time with him but he is clearly uncomfortable sometimes. He sizes him up. Questions what he says a lot more. He doesn’t like having Hugo out of his sight but at the same time, doesn’t really want to be around him all the time. He’s still mad and hurt. It’s like when they first met, but much more bitter because of their previous trust. They have a lot of conversations and it doesn’t take too long to build the trust back up, but now that they’re in a relationship it will take awhile to fully figure that out as well. They still have a lot to learn about eachother, especially in this environment that is completely foreign to Hugo yet so familiar to Varian.

It doesn’t help that Quirin and Eugene are both likely very, very hesitant to accept Hugo into their family. Quirin sees too much of Donella, the woman who took his wife away from him, in Hugo. And naturally, he doesn’t feel comfortable with his son dating a thief who betrayed him.

And Eugene sees way too much of Flynn Rider in Hugo. He’s everything he used to be, everything he hates about himself. A shifty, conniving, loner thief who only cares about himself. Of course he’s against the idea of someone like that dating his baby brother. What if their relationship is toxic? What if Hugo betrays Varian again? What if Hugo breaks his heart again? What if Hugo leaves him at the altar like he did?

Lance and the girls may be pretty accepting, but even they don’t fully trust him. Honestly, I think Rapunzel would be the only one to fully trust him and gladly give him a chance. But even she has her suspicions and doubts. She won’t let Varian get hurt on her watch ever again. 

I think the first few months are very scary and lonely for Hugo. He’s in an unfamiliar environment filled with people that it feels like are waiting for him to fail. They aren’t, they’re naturally suspicious, for good reason, which is worse. He feels guilty constantly. He’s scared. Scared Varian will leave him, scared he’ll mess up and return to his old ways, scared he’ll get thrown out without getting to say goodbye, scared Varian will never trust him again, scared he will be thrown into the dungeons, scared something will happen and he will get blamed. He’s scared, and he doesn’t know who to go to because it’s his fault, right? And he’s lonely because his and Varian’s relationship is still a little strained and they’re trying to figure things out. He has no friends here and all of Varian’s friends and family don’t like him or trust him. Sure, Lance and the princess are friendly, but he can tell they are hesitant to fully befriend him. Quirin is clearly uncomfortable around him. And Eugene despises him.

I think Rapunzel is the first to fully bond with him after Varian, and she helps him adjust to castle life. Eventually, Eugene bonds with him, and helps him adjust to leaving his old thieving ways behind. And maybe he can bond with Cassandra, who helps him cope with the pain of betraying your close friends. And of course Lance is happy to have a new buddy, and the girls are happy to have a new victim. And Quirin does, eventually, see Hugo as his son.

It’s a rough first month or so, but he gets the hang of it, and bonds with his new family.

[rhey-007]

The Mystery of Love

Fernando Alonso family fluff

|| P4 of Fernando Alonso x goth mommy!reader

• | socialmedia au

Summary: The results of little bunny's little competition are here! Along with some new interesting rumors... 👀

Warnings/Tags: fluff, family fluff, female reader, y/n, kids, dad Fernando, mom reader

A/N: You can't even imagine how much I enjoy making this series :))

If anyone would liked to be added to the taglist or has any suggestions for the next part lemme know!

Masterlist

✧༺🌊༻✧

TWITTER

•user1: I'm rooting for Logan and Williams!

→ •user2: Me too! Benny seemed to have the most fun with him!

•user3: Y/N or Klaus should make a fan vote pool for extra points xD

→ •user4: naaah only Chiquito's voice matters

F1 NEWS

TWITTER

•user5: Have you seen how Nando was looking at Y/N and kids??? Ain't no way they're JUST friends

→ •user6: EXACTLY they both literally had hearts in eyes as they looked at each other and down at Benny!

→ •user7: meanwhile Klaus

→ •user8: more like

→ •user9: he kept texting someone and smiling to his phone, suspicious...

•user10: has anyone else noticed Fernando's hand on Y/N's waist or was it just my delulu self?

→ •user11: I DID TOO! and how he squeezed it from time to time!

→ •user12: check out the interview with Lance. They're standing in the back and you can see Fernando soothing Y/N's back whenever she tenses up

→ •user13: my heart's gonna melt... 🫠

→ •user14: and they keep saying they're just friends 🧍‍♀️

INSTAGRAM

TWITTER

•user15: is that Klaus???

→ •user16: Yup!

•user17: NOW WE KNOW WHO HE TEXTED KDHEKDHDNDH

•user18: they look so cute together!

•user19: ahh... Young love... 🫠😍

•user20: they together or what?

→ •user21: not confirmed but seemed to flirt with each other (at least Klaus with Bluebell)

→ •user22: who is she anyway?

→ •user21: Christian Horner's eldest daughter

→ •user22: ooooh... Christian's not gonna be happy 😅

•use23: Klaus - grumpy whenever he has to attend a race or spend time with Fernando

Also Klaus - wears Aston Martin T-shirt

→ •user24: it highlights his eye color xD

✧༺🌊༻✧

Tag list: @morgan-getty @lichterfee @ashy-kit

[callmelyc]

Twitter loves hockey Keith soooo

Au where Lance is dating the captain of Keiths hockey team so he's around a lot

He'll bring snacks, be at any hangouts, help host cookouts and celebrations when they win games. He's the teams biggest fan with the biggest heart and most fiery passion.

Lance has been around for years now, he's a team staple. Even the press knows who Lance is, their fans, their families.

So it's only fair that the entire team loves having Lance around even if Keith was initially reluctant....

Here's the thing. Keith likes lance alot actually, probably too much. He isn't blind to Lances beauty or how kind the man is or how smart, funny, ever so slightly annoying he is.

But he also isn't blind to the annoyed sighs their captain gives when lance texts him sometimes. He isn't blind to how little free time Lance has because the captain always wants lance around as a little trophy bf.

So when lance excitedly announced to everyone he's going on a half year, once in a lifetime, research trip stationed at sea? The first person Keith looks at is their captain.

The man has his press face on. It's thoroughly painted with fake joy for Lance and the news he'd be out of his sight for a long period.

It irks Keith enough that he asks Lance genuine questions about his trip he was clearly so excited for. The other team members follow suit best they can since most don't fully understand what exactly it is Lance does.

And look, Keith knows Lance isn't stupid. He knows Lance can see his long-term boyfriends distaste at the idea. He still finds himself worrying about the man when he sees them leave together, a clearly purposeful space between them as they go.

On the day Lance leaves he finds out the couple had had an argument about the entire thing that day Lance told them about it. Against his wishes Keith feels his blood boil on Lances behalf. It's that moment Keith decides. When Lance gets back he could use a genuine friend on his side of the ice and Keith is gonna make sure that's him.

So when Lance returns a week early after many long months away Keith jumps at the opportunity to help him.

Lance,like the sweet saint he is, said he'd wanted to surprise his bf so he hadn't told the captain he was back yet. Though Keith is bitter at the thought of the two reuniting he tells Lance they have a big team party tonight to celebrate their path into finals. He also tells Lance he can help sneak him right up to the captain.

Lance is understandably excited. The entire way there he's telling Keith how thrilled the captain will be since he'd never wanted Lance to go to begin with.

Despite it all Keith can't help but smile at Lances excitement. They're close to the back halls by then so Keith tells Lance to stick close and follow his lead.

Which he does.

Which he also regrets.

There's no romantic welcome home or happy surprise waiting for Lance. Instead, Keith leads him right up to the captain that's actively cheating on him with a woman in public.

Keith sneaks Lance right back out after he takes photos for evidence in what Keith can only assume is for a future fight. He takes a horribly silent Lance right back to the couples shared apartment. He guards the door as Lance packs and goes through their security system only finding more evidence of & confirmation of the cheating.

Keith escorts Lance to a trusted friends place and listens as Lance breaks down into sobs behind the front door as he leaves.

Their team doesn't see Lance again for a long time after that.

Their press team fought to keep the cheating scandal under wraps, claimed the breakup was due to mutual decisions. But Keith knows, the team knows.

They no longer trust their captain.

And as things continue through a rough patch of plays it turns out the cheating wasn't the only thing the man had lied about. Gambling, things that could be considered sabotage, outright lying to all their faces. Word was kept under lock and key least they be disqualified and have all their reputations destroyed. They had one final game to play.

So they do.

Winning doesn't feel the same without Lance watching the ice they skate on. It doesn't feel the same without his loud cheers and insistence on celebrating afterwards.

The only one happy with it is their captain who sits gleefully at the bar with his newest girl.

The rest of the team doesn't know how to feel. It doesn't feel like a win at all.

~•~

The next time Keith sees Lance is during his standard practice between seasons. He's alone on the ice today and is surprised to see those blue eyes looking at him through the glass.

Keith comes to a stop right Infront of him.

"Can I talk to you?" Lance blurts before Keith can even say a word.

Lance doesn't know this yet, but Keith could never deny him anything "yeah sure, I was done anyways"

He finds Lance waiting patiently in the locker room once he's done putting everything away.

"What's up?" He asks, watching lance look at him in question "You haven't been around. So I guess you have a good reason to be here now."

"I was looking for you actually."

"Me?"

"Yeah, I never got to thank you with all that happened....it-" Lance pauses looking down at his hands "it meant a lot to have a friend like you in the moment. I'm sorry for cutting contact."

Keith sits next to him bumping his shoulder playfully "you don't have to apologize for that, I get it. We all do."

"All....?"

"Yeah. The rest of the team, we all miss you but we get it."

Lance looks at Keith like he's surprised to hear such a thing "really?"

"of course? Lance- you do realize how often we hung out right? We all consider you a close friend and we were all furious with the captain for what he did to you."

"I-" Lance finally smiles, small but none the less genuine "and here I thought I'd be unwelcome."

Keith stands, holding out his hand to pull him up "your never unwelcomed Lance, not here, not around me. Why don't we grab some lunch and you can tell me about that trip you went on."

He pretends he doesn't see the tears filling Lances eyes as the man takes his hand and instead Keith focused on the joy radiating off him in waves

For the first time in almost a year Keith finally feels like he's feeling the sun again.

~•~

Keith sits through days and multiple lunch and dinner tales of Lances incredible research trip. It's thrilling to watch the man's eyes glitter in genuine happiness as he does so.

Keith realizes he's the first to genuinely ask after these details since everyone else simply wanted him distracted from the cheating fiasco. So Keith soaks up every detail, every stray insignificant video and piece of data lance is willing to give.

He's so greedy with it Lance laughs, thrilled someone was willing to finally listen. He actually sends Keith the initial drafts for the research (the non nda ones) along with the short writings that followed.

Keith is blown away by how hard Lance had worked. He's so incredibly proud of him, so thoroughly impressed by his intelligence and made Lance promise he'd send the published pieces once they're publicly available.

In return Lance starts attending Keith's hockey practices.

It starts with any that the ex isn't there and eventually spirals to any at all as the season grows nearer.

Lance diligently sits in the stands watching and critiquing the plays just how he used to if with a little more care.

The guys are thrilled to see Lance around again even if he's still reluctant to hang in the locker rooms and after.

Their captain ignores him in full and Lance does the same in return.

Once the games pick back up Lance slowly becomes Keith's personal cheerleader from the stands. It never fails to send a sharp spike of adrenaline through Keiths spine when he hears lance scream his name in support.

He roots for the entire team, minus one man, of course. But the team notes with amusement how Keith seems to be his favorite now.

And, well....Keith can't help but smile at that.

Lance is seen around almost all the time again with his focus mostly on Keith and Keith is smug the more it infuriates their captain as time passes.

He's enraged his ex is around again, he's enraged Lance had taken interest in someone else, he's enraged that that someone isn't him.

What the man doesn't know is Lance and Keith see way more of eachother that anyone knows.

Their captain doesn't know how Lance sometimes spends the night as his place and vice versa. How Lance text him everyday now and how Keith doesn't find it one bit annoying like he had.

He doesn't know how hard they'd fallen for eachother.

And when Keith wins their final game of the season he publicly dedicated it to Lance in their interviews afterwards.

Everyone but their captain follows in his steps saying that Lances support has been monumental to their moral as a team.

And Keith knows he's truly won when Lance pushes through the crowd and gives him a big kiss the moment he reaches him.

Lance smiles into that kiss with all the joy a ray of sunshine can provide and Keith makes sure to smile back just as big.

They go on their very first date the next day.

[callum-23]

just discovered ur acc, who's ur fav character? (and yeah, this is me asking for u to rant abt ur fav)

L A N C E !!!

Lance is my favourite!! For many reasons, but mostly because I relate to him on a lot of levels, mainly with

- self recognition issues, aka what happened when Lance doubted his skills as a paladin, and was thinking about stepping down.

I struggle with this, mostly as an artist, as I've seen my friends, and other people I know in life, have better skills, and most of the times doubting myself about my artist skills 😔 But I've gotten better at just focusing on my own art and in turn I felt like it helped me get better!!

- value in relationships, platonic, family, romantic even. I love how he values his relationships with the other paladins, about how he's always willing to take steps for others, comforting his friends, and always willing to step up as a person, even though he's cocky and can be full of himself (mostly in the earlier seasons) he's got a heart of gold underneath all that!!

Lance tends to put up this persona of himself being a "ladies man," the cocky flirt even. But there's so much more to his character than just that, he's not just the love interest, he tends to be the emotional support of others, a hard worker, he's also a pretty good well rounded character, he has his own flaws and insecurites, which help him become a better paladin throughout the show. Honestly, though, later, seasons mainly treat him as the "love interest," and I don't think that's really a way to describe him, as he's just SO much more than that!!

I love his dynamic with other characters, SO SO MUCH!

There's Hunk and Lance. They're basically best friends!! Best friends since the garrison, I love their moments together, even though it's not much, and mostly joking and small banter, but in the end they're really close friends who've always got eachothers backs, and knowing how close they are, makes them a really good team. They show their best values and bring out the best in each other!!

There's Pidge and Lance, who are more like a brother/sister duo, with Lance being like a second brother to Pidge. A moment that really stood out to me was Pidge dragging Lance along to help her find enough GAC to purchase a video game from the space mall, I love how Lance just simply went along with it, spending time with her as if she was his own sister, and in return, Pidge traded away a video game so that Allura could get a dress for her date with Lance, as Pidge knew how much this meant to him, even though she was reluctant at first!

Coran and Lance, having a father-son bond, similar to Shiro, being the guide for the paladins, acting as a father figure (space dad)

And then there's Keith and Lance, Keith and Lance, the "rivals" who compete for Np reason, who grow to accept eachother. A good example of acceptance shown between their bond is when the Black Lion had chosen Keith as the paladin, while at first, Lance was jealous, he learned to realise and proceeded to comfort Keith about his new position, showing that yes its going to he difficult, but he says to Keith that he is the one for the job, and gives him a fond look, stating that even though no one can replace Shiro, Keith can lead the team, and that he'll always be there with Keith. (Kinda cute as Lance sorta becomes his right hand man!) And the fact that Lance trusts Keith enough to get some words before his date with Allura, Lance going to Keith of all people when he was unsure about his place as a paladin, Lance even comforting Keith, and helping him during missions, being by his side, the jokes, the playful name calling. Everything, I love their dynamic!!

I love Lance as a character, sure, I'm still SUPER upset on how his life is after the events of the series, but in short, Lance, Lance McClain is my favourite vld character.

Literally the best sharpshooter ever !! ⬆️

[hopelessromantic5]

Love in All Its Forms

Merlin liked to think he knew quite a bit. He's all of twenty and four, now. He's learned so much information in the last three years, his head feels it might explode. Only the magic of the Earth itself still holding him together.

But there were always reasons to keep going. Camelot, her people, that needed protection. His family, his friends, Hunith, Gwen, Lance, Gwaine, Leon, Elyan. They've all become a part of him now.

Merlin also liked to think he knew a lot about love. He was easily capable of feeling a love that passes between two people. Each different than the last.

For example, the love between Gwen and her brother Elyan was that of a comrade, a brother in arms. They teased and poked and worried feircly. As opposed to the love that Merlin can see slowly growing between Gwen and Lancelot. Theirs is a quiet feeling. But no less intense. They communicate with silent looks and soft touches. When they are together, their eyes never dim.

In his mind, Merlin considers this oddity as just another power in his arsenal. He can see love before the lover's even notice. Like Gwaine and Percival, for instance.

Gwaine is…a complicated person. That may be the understatement of the century, but there are many things that Gwaine never lets see the light of day. A brave knight in the face of his own memories, out of neccesity. Merlin would try his damndest at the beginning to get any information out of him at all, about his past, or his hurt. But Gwaine insisted he was fine, and Merlin wouldn't want to hear it. That was, until Percival came along with Lancelot, and Gwaine bloomed like a flower in spring.

Percival was shy, something that Gwaine latched onto immidiately. He always had a thing for the quiet ones. The gentle giant favored hanging around the stables or the royal kennels, looking after dogs and brushing down the horses in his down time. Merlin has caught Gwaine watching Percival on more than one occasion, but said nothing. Never bringing attention to the unspoken connection they seem to have. After all, Merlin couldn't judge either of them a bit.

In a group setting, Gwaine was still his boistorous, frankly blunt self, and in turn, he pulled Percival out of his shell. They would huddle together in council meeting, or close in the tavern, whipsering about training, or gambling, or just their days. Merlin does try not to eavesdrop, but its nearly impossible when he can feel the waves of affection rolling off of them and out into the room, making everyone around them, unknowingly, softer.

Even Arthur.

Oh, god.

Arthur. King Arthur. The Once and Future King of Albion.

A royal, supercillois prat with a heart of gold and hair to match.

Anywhere he went, he arrived like the sun each morning. Beautiful and regal and breathtaking. Merlin nearly choked on it.

Morgana would call him a hypocrite, if she were here. She went to stay with the druids shortly following the death of Uther. After Arthur was settled into Kingship, she said her tearful goodbyes and promised to return in the winter for Yule.

Before leaving, she hugged Merlin fiercly and whispered into his shoulder "Take care of yourself. And him." He did not need to ask who 'he' was. "You're the only person in the world that makes him truly happy."

With that, she took her leave. Stepping away from a sad, shell-shocked Merlin.

"She will return soon, Merlin." The King's voice pulled him out of his thoughts and back into the royal chambers. How had he known what Merlin was thinking of?

"I know, sire." He nodded, resolute to not look at the King in his private, sleepy state. "I just miss her, is all."

"As do I." Came a quiet response. "She was always better at this part." He shuffled parchments on the desk. "The paperwork and the delegating."

"She would vehemenately disagree." Merlin chuckled lowly, still staring at the pile of clean clothes he has yet to sort.

"That she would." Arthur's voice sounds far away, which caused Merlin to look up at him, only to find the King watching him do absolutely nothing. He almost couldn’t breathe. His magic rising up in his throat any time Arthur looks his way, these days.

"Are you…" the golden King began, unsure. Merlin's eyebrows pinched slightly. "Do you and Morgana-"

"No!" He practically shouted into a very quiet room, causing him to flinch at his own blunder. "I mean… no." He tried again, calmer. "She is very beautiful and kind, but it's not like that. It's just that…" he sighed, looking down at that same pile of clothes, trying to find the right words.

"She's a high preistess. Extremely, naturally, powerful. While there are other magical users now in residence here, it's not quite the same. The druids and everyone, they all look to me as some kind of…" He trailed off.

"God." Arthur finished for him. "They see you as a god."

"Well, yes." To busy his hands, he finally began sorting different piles. "Morgana was someone with magic who understood that I am not, completely, the immortal of legend. She's been to Ealdor, she's seen where I used to put my hands into the Earth and grow vegetables in the winter so that we would not starve." He shrugged. "She was a nice collaborator to have, a friend."

"I'm sorry." Merlin snapped his neck to look over at Arthur, still behind his desk, but work long abandoned.

"Whatever for?"

"That you must seperate peices of yourself in order to exist in a certain place. That there are those who make you feel as if you aren't human, but some savior sent to magically fix every problem we have." Arthur shook his head slightly. "You are more than that."

This. This is what Merlin can never find the words for.

He knew what he felt for Arthur was love. But it seemed so above and beyond any love he's ever felt, he hesitated to label it such.

Yes, he would die for Arthur without ever thinking, he would throw himself down at Arthur's mercy should he ever fail him. But that was only one peice of it. That was the love he feels for his King, that was the loyalty attatched to his affection.

Another part of him, the part that sits quietly with Arthur in his chambers, the one that wakes a sleepy man every morning with much more fondness than is appropriate. It was just Merlin, that fell in love with just Arthur. His heart, his kindness.

That part of Merlin would destroy anything and everything to see Arthur happy. He would burn down the world.

This was what scared him.

"Am I?" Is all he can manage to get out, in a cottonmouth whisper.

"Of course, Merlin. You are what keeps this kingdom afloat. Not just because you defend Camelot from grave dangers, or keep the grain stores stocked for winter. But because your light seems to bleed onto others and make us all unbearably happy. We would all be miserable without you."

"We?" Merlin can't help but point out with a small, shying smile. "Including you, sire?"

Merlin saw, in the candlelight, as the King's cheeks turned a bright pink and he tore his eyes back down to his scattered desk. "Well I would certainly be miserable with George all the time."

The well put-together man only did half of the usual tasks given to a manservant of the King. Merlin woke Arthur, dressed him, served him breakfast. He attended him at feasts and every night, he readied the King for bed. No one was taking that from him, as far as he was concerned. Unless Arthur told him to go, he would be here, always by his side.

"Have no fear, your highness, I will always be here to save you from manservants with no personality."

"Thank the gods for that." Arthur said, all too serious.

Merlin tried to lighten the mood, with a small chuckle he asked "Did you honestly think that Morgana and I-"

The King cut him off, scrunching his eyes closed in embarasment. "Gods, I didn't know, okay? I knew you cared for her but I didn't know if it was more than-"

"It's not. I care for her as a sister. I care for her as you do."

Arthur smiled at him. "That is good to know." He tapped on the wooden surface of his desk with a finger, staring at the motion in thought. Merlin just watched him.

"So, you don't have your eye on anyone, at present?"

Merlin's brain froze still. How was he supposed to answer that? "I…wouldn't say that." He responded quietly, not looking away from Arthur's stark blue eyes.

Arthur seemed almost disappointed, but not surprised. "I thought as much." he said with smile that did not reach his eyes.

At Merlin's questioning look he said, "You're often daydreaming when I find you alone. With some dopey looking smile on your face." He tried to sound offhand when he asked, "Who's the lucky lady?"

Merlin decided, for once in his life, to be honest when asked a question. Looking at his feet once more, he responded. "Not a lady at all, actually." the man sighed, bereft. "A complete idiot that they somehow allowed to be King though he can't even dress himself most days. I don't know how the kingdom hasn't-"

His rambling was cut off once again by the King. But this time a completely different tactic was used.

The kiss was hungry, while Arthur's hold on him was gentle. As if he were afraid to break something precious.

They come up for air some minutes later, now grasping onto each other for dear life. "We should've done that ages ago." Arthur whispers into the air between them, causing a giddy laugh to ride up out of both of them.

Their love is like flowers growing up out of the frozen solid ground. Or a gust of cold air in the dessert.

[heliads]

i've got my money on things going badly

Lance Stroll should be delighted to watch his sister get married, but the only heart he's thinking about is his own. The one Fernando Alonso broke.

masterlist

To Lance, weddings are a kind of performance art. He’s gotten somewhat good at them ever since he was younger, when the Strolls were invited to everything. His father would get caught up in knots of expensive men wearing expensive suits, lost in business talks for hours, but Lance could slip away the second someone blinked, go find his sister disguised in a coat closet somewhere and talk about Pokémon or cable TV or something little kids like best. 

Now his sister is the one getting married, and, enfolded into someone else’s party of groomsmen, Lance has absolutely no chance of hiding, excessively large coat closets of the elite be damned. He likes Scotty, really he does, even went to the trouble of presenting him to Chloe as a potential husband in the first place, but ceremonies are always long and Lance, as per usual, is tired of it.

He should be good. He should like this. Weddings are wonderful ceremonies. You can appreciate them for the expensive decorations and myriad artistic decisions that go into them, if not the fact that they’re basically just one extended celebration dedicated to the love of your close friends and family. 

Lance is here for his sister and her future happiness with her recently declared husband. This should be an excellent day, and it has been, along with the rest of the wedding festivities that have been going on for ages, but now that the sun has set and he’s still here, starch-stiff in his dress suit, wishing he could go but knowing he can’t.

It’s not even the wedding’s fault, really, it’s just that Lance can’t stand spending so long thinking about the bliss of someone else’s love when he’s just lost one of his own. His sister is twirling in a white dress, a woman who hasn’t stopped smiling in hours, and Lance is standing in the shadows of this rosy glory with just one name on his mind.

Fernando Alonso.

It’s foolish, what this has done to him. Lance waved goodbye to Seb last year and told himself that he could look forward to another good relationship with another world championship teammate. Fernando would be challenging but rewarding as another Aston Martin driver, or so the motorsport gossip pages had told him.

What no one counted on was just how Fernando would make Lance feel. Not even Lance can do a good job of that, not really. There are no words in English or Spanish or even half-and-half lighthearted Spanglish that can sum up how Lance’s ribs ache like they’ve been bruised from sentences alone. 

He had not meant to love Fernando; hell, he wasn’t even sure he did until the abrupt ending, but now Lance is choking on the words he never got to say and wondering how he’s meant to pick up the pieces of a heart that was only ever Fernando’s to break. Lance was supposed to stay professional, and he didn’t, and now he’s the one suffering for it. So it goes.

It didn’t take much, actually. Four months to fall. One month to break. Now he’s standing alone in the corner of his sister’s wedding, hoping for an escape that doesn’t seem willing to come his way. He’d been stupid, thought he could take too much, but is that really his fault for trying? All his life, he’s been told that he could be anything, do anything, have anything, and now he’s found that limit and it hurts like hell.

It’s not like anyone told him that the meter on Stroll luck and expectation would fall short when it came to one Spanish two time world championship winner. Well, that’s not true. Esteban had tried. Lance had not listened. He cannot even say for sure that he should have, because Lance had been very happy up until the point when he wasn’t.

It almost makes sense that the whole affair was conducted over such a short period of time. Lance is impatient, he likes doing things fast. It’s why he was able to become a Formula One driver. It’s why he set his sights on the man most likely to break his heart and cut the brakes before either of them could back out of it.

And it was just. Fuck. Hands on shoulders on the backs of necks on waists. How Fernando kept whispering in his ear, so close he could feel the other man’s breath hot on his neck, even though/just because it made Lance h— they were on camera the whole time. It didn’t matter. They wanted what they wanted and they got it, too. 

Or, Lance had thought they had got what they wanted, and then he had dared to ask for a label for the unspoken thing he was sure both of them felt, and everything was lost for good. It was the end of the Miami race weekend, and Fernando was drunk on the glory of another podium, happy enough that Lance felt certain that he could have the conversation he wanted without it going sour.

They had been hanging around one of their driver’s rooms– which one, Lance can never tell, they kept swapping door to door until even the labeled placards felt like a joke of hospitality’s courtesy. Sprawled out on a couch, so close that Lance couldn’t stop staring at how their legs kept touching whenever he breathed too hard, he’d felt absolutely crazy with the knowledge that this was his.

Too much of a good thing can make you foolish, convince you that things will be that good forever. Lance had laughed to himself, then turned to Fernando with a grin. “We’ll still be like this next season, right?”

Fernando had given him this look as if he were being intentionally difficult. “Yes, Lance. My contract will not expire for another season. I will be on the grid.”

Lance had shaken his head. “No, duh, I mean like, hanging out like we are now. You know, like us.” 

Lance doubts he could have packed more meaning into that one syllable if he tried. He’s heard Fernando refer to the unbreakable us before too many times to count, like when they’re coming back from a bar late and Fernando, eyes dark and heavy, promised him they’d have fun like that again, just us. Or, scoffing at the other driver lineups– they’re not us, you know. They don’t get along as well. One hand on Lance’s shoulder, fingers digging into muscle, the others could never get along as well.

Fernando had cocked his head to the side, curious. “What do you mean? We’re teammates.”

Lance had rolled his eyes. “Yeah, obviously, but like, there’s more. You know that.”

The space between them went silent. He should have taken that as his first warning sign if nothing else. Fernando had cleared his throat carefully and said, “What else would there be?”

Lance can still imagine the cold feeling that had descended upon him, spreading from the back of his throat like ink. What else would there be? It was impossible that he could have misread every single signal, every touch, every unspoken word. Unless, of course, the hidden meaning he dedicated so much time to channeling had never been there at all.

Lance had waved his hand vaguely. “But we were– you know, we did. Things.”

Fernando’s expression was impossible to read. “Did we?”

It was condescending and pitying and Lance hated it, all of it. He felt like a boy again, small enough to watch his voice disappear into the stillness of an uncaring room. He’d shot up from the couch, pushing out the door and away before anything else could happen. If anything had happened at all, or if it would, that is. Apparently, Lance has made a habit of picturing things that didn’t fucking exist.

Now he’s left spiraling like he survived a bad breakup, but you can’t have a breakup if there was never so much as a spark in the first place. It’s impossible that Fernando could have missed it all. Impossible, that Lance could have simply invented it. He knows what he felt, he knows what Fernando did, but none of it was worthy of a single word of acknowledgement from the other half of two seemingly perfect parts.

He wants to scream and throw up and put his phone down for longer than ten minutes at a time. There are many, many things that Lance had wanted to tell Fernando, and it’s only now starting to occur to him that he’ll never get the chance. I wanted to transform. For you. I wanted to be good. You made me want to be better. 

It’s foolish for him to be thinking of things like this. Lance is a young man. He’s got time for his heart to grow up and even out. Maybe in a decade or less, he’ll meet some perfectly nice young woman, someone his father would approve of, someone with country club connections that won’t rival his own (who can) but could at least keep up with the game. They’d have a manicured front lawn and two docile children, including a son to keep up the Stroll legacy. It would be normal, it would not break his heart like this. It would be very dependable.

Lance doesn’t want dependable, though, he knows it as he thinks it. He wants wild, unpredictable, insane things like falling in love with your teammate and letting him convince you that he’d settle down for you. Lance wants to be the reason someone so used to choosing themselves chooses you instead. He wants Fernando, and he wants no one else.

This is a difficult thing to think about at a wedding. Across the crowded event hall, he can see his sister, happy and secure in the knowledge that her husband is hers, legally and emotionally. There are scores of couples smiling up at each other, content that their love is theirs and no one else’s. 

Lance stands alone, tapping his foot to the beat so he doesn’t look like a complete loser. Every time someone looks over at him, he wants to shout that he’s fine, actually, this is fine, he doesn’t need someone the way that everyone else seems to, but they glance away again before he can properly vocalize this.

The DJ spins another song, the beat drops and the dance floor shakes appropriately from a hundred stomping feet, and just when Lance is certain that he wants to give up and really tries in earnest to look for somewhere to go, the crowd parts and Lance sees him.

Fernando. Here. Impossible. Yet that’s still a glint of hickory eyes he’d know anywhere, even distorted by swimming shades of party lights. Lance feels physically immobile as the man who cannot possibly be his teammate skirts couples and friend groups, and then they’re standing in front of each other and even though this cannot be, it is, and this is the first time Lance has seen him since the argument.

Lance stares at Fernando, jaw dropped comically. He has the harebrained thought that he’s glad the only camera nearby is the one in the hands of Chloe’s Vogue-ordered photographer; if this was the paddock, he’d probably end up as yet another stupid reaction image, giffed into oblivion until not even Lance can recognize his face when he sees it again.

If this was the paddock, seeing Fernando wouldn’t be such a surprise. If this was the paddock, Lance would not feel the absurd urge to run, because Fernando would already be gone, separated by an impenetrable wall of PR officers and personal trainers and anyone else he could shove in between the two of them.

Instead, they’re in one of the rare quiet patches in the wedding reception hall, and Lance is watching Fernando watch him, and slowly, deliberately, Lance forces his mouth to shut enough to ask, “How did you get in here?”

Fernando chuckles, teeth flashing in the uneven lighting of the dark hall. Lance has taken to ranking his teammate’s grins on a sliding scale from closed lips to a shark’s predatory display. This one is somewhere in the middle, hovering between quiet and pleased. Maybe even real. 

“I bribed Daniel to get me past the door,” he says.

Lance casts an outraged look across the dancefloor until he catches the Australian attempting to foxtrot with Scotty. They should both be at least passable at it, but both men keep trying to lead, then follow, then lead again, endless cycles of not-quite-right. 

Daniel somehow feels Lance looking– twitchy, isn’t he, has been all day– catches sight of Fernando standing in front of him, and grins apologetically. Bastard. If Lance gets him for grid Secret Santa, if Daniel manages to make it back onto the grid before December, he’ll have to actually try this time. Lance might owe him big for this.

The DJ starts a new number, cueing flashing lights that cascade from the blinding storm on the dance floor to faint rays out here where the two of them linger in the shadows, occasional flashlight beams sent out to catch them.

Lance swallows hard, watches the LEDs dye Fernando’s hair with undertones of Renault yellow, Ferrari red, Aston Martin green. If he were in the mood to be honest, Lance would admit that he’s been looking at Fernando for a while, actually. Not just since Fernando joined his team, before that, too. Long before they were teammates, when Lance first started racing in Formula One and he was eighteen and Fernando was thirty-five, a fact that makes him shiver down to his toes every time he thinks of it, which is– more often than it should be, for certain.

Now that the issue has been solved of how Fernando managed to get past the security guards Chloe swore were unnecessary and Lawrence swore he wouldn’t hire, plus the overeager wedding planners and racing fans stuck outside the gates with iPhone cameras, Lance pivots to a new question, one far more important.

“Why are you here?” Lance asks cautiously. 

He knows what he wants to hear, of course, but he can’t let himself get his hopes up just for them to be dashed yet again. This is not his wedding, of course. Fernando could be here to corner some Aston Martin engineers or strategists if they won’t return his midnight calls. He could even be here for Danny, which would explain why the Australian went to the trouble of letting him in, and he’s just stopping by Lance because he got caught while trying to get drinks. 

That thought makes Lance’s stomach twist in angry knots, and he’s only calmed from saying or doing something rash by Fernando’s following words, quiet in the dark but full of a lasting power.

“For you, Lance,” he says, “I came for you.”

God. Lance has spent the whole day witnessing lavish displays of affection, but for some reason it is seven simple words that makes him come undone. He stands there, stock still, and Fernando asks hesitantly, “Is that okay?”

It reminds Lance of how it had been before everything went south, when they were both dancing around a truth both ugly and glorious, that teammates do not stare like they did, that coworkers should not use getting drunk at an Aston Martin post-race celebration party as an excuse to keep their hands on each other, that Fernando didn’t keep interrupting Lance’s interviews to place his hands on Lance’s shoulders and whisper in his ear that he was Fernando’s hero just to get Lance to react like he always did. Not something he was supposed to do on camera, but neither of them could stop.

It is like the very beginning. Fernando, infiltrating Lance’s garage to lean down over the edge of the halo of Lance’s test drive and grip his gloved hands. How’s the car? Fernando, stopping by Lance’s driver’s room to hug him around the shoulders, cold and damp from the champagne that was still soaked through his race suit. I saw you out there. It was good, no? We are good? Fernando, with his hand on Lance’s leg when they’re supposed to be paying attention in a dry and stilted meeting with no one’s eyes on them for once. Can I? Is it alright? 

Lance never said no. Even when his breath caught in his throat. Even when he knew he was just sinking further into a pit he would never be able to escape. The falling was the best part, anyway.

“Fine,” he says at last, “Dance with me, then. If you want to talk, we dance. I’m sick of being a wallflower anyway.”

He raises an eyebrow impetuously, daring Fernando to make the next move. If Fernando’s actually serious about being here for Lance, he won’t mind this. He won’t mind the chance that someone could see them together and start to speculate. If Lance is anything other than a backroom missed connection, they should be able to dance without worrying.

Fernando nods once, accepting his challenge. He places one hand on Lance’s waist, the other on his waiting hand. His grip is strong, but not agonizing. Just a reminder that Lance will not be able to leave easily, not unless Fernando is satisfied that the situation has been handled as he planned.

Here, locked in the vise of another man’s arms, Lance thinks about how deeply he’s let himself get enthralled in Fernando’s way of doing things. He likes pretending that he’s the one in control, that Fernando is here to win him over, but the second Fernando’s hands are on him, Lance cedes that last bit of power over to him. Fernando does it easily, like a habit. It probably is.

Esteban warned him about this, after all, how easy it is to get sucked in. Lance, however, does not mind Fernando’s trap in the slightest. The rabbit must learn to love the snare. The bird likes its cage when the gilded bars keep it safe. 

“I was thinking,” Fernando begins.

“Always a good start,” Lance quips.

The hand on Lance’s waist tightens momentarily, a warning. Lance kind of wants to mouth off some more to see what the resulting action would be.

“I was thinking,” Fernando repeats, “that I may have gotten something wrong. I did not want to rush you, Lance. We have a lot of time. Being hasty can cost you.”

Unwillingly, Lance’s mind flashes to driver’s meetings, planning sessions with his engineer. Being a driver is knowing the difference between when to push and when to plan. Fernando  may have spent a lot of time guarding his pace, but Lance gets the feeling he’s finally ready to go for the trophy, the fastest lap. To sprint and never look back.

“I don’t want you as just a teammate,” Fernando continues. “I had not realized you thought we were past that. It would have sped things along, I think, if I had.”

“I thought we had plenty of time,” Lance comments.

“We do,” Fernando says smoothly. “But that does not mean I want to push this off any more if I don’t have to.”

“This?” Lance asks, feeling like he’s parodying that fateful conversation from so long ago, “And what’s this?”

Fernando meets his gaze coolly, calmly, and then he smiles and changes everything. Night brown eyes go caramel. “We have something better than anyone else, Lance. I do not want to lose it.”

There’s a sharp, triumphant streak in those words. Fernando Alonso has always been on a different level from everyone else. Hearing that he considers Lance on that distinct pedestal as well– it makes Lance lean into his touch a little more, and the last of his guard drops away.

“Why’d you tell me differently earlier, then?” He can’t help but ask. “You could have said you wanted me then.”

Fernando sighs, looks away. “I didn’t know I wanted it then. I didn’t count on how it would feel to lose you. I know now. I don’t want to feel it again.”

Across the room, they’re starting to cheer and shout from the center of the dance floor. It takes Lance a few moments to realize that the applause isn’t for the two of them but for the newlyweds, Chloe and Scotty, who are leading the group in an exuberant rendition of I Wanna Dance with Somebody. Lance thinks that it wouldn’t be entirely unfounded for the cheering to be for him, though. He feels like celebrating now.

And, when he looks back, Fernando’s lips are on his. Lance stumbles a little, and Fernando’s hand slides up his spine to catch him before he loses balance. It’s easy. It’s victorious. Lance never wants to let him go.

Fernando’s breath is hot against his throat, sending Lance into a feverish spiral. “I’ll see you in Monaco,” he whispers, and then he’s pulling away.

Lance watches him leave, but for once, it’s not a sad feeling. Instead, the emotion currently crashing through Lance’s bones is more one of anticipation. This is not the end, just the beginning. Fernando turns once, smiling at him before disappearing in a crush of people. Lance’s chest feels cold where Fernando’s hands had once been, but his heart’s racing enough to make up for the lost heat.

A voice by his shoulder; his sister, who has somehow fought her way through the crowd of well-wishers to find him. “Was that your teammate?” She asks, frowning.

Lance gazes softly at the place that had once been his. “Yeah, it was.”

Chloe tilts her head to the side with a frown, considering this. “Is something going on there?”

“Yes,” Lance answers her. Chloe looks like she wants far more of a response than just that, but Lance just laughs and helps her back to the dance floor. He will have plenty more days to explain it to her. After all, Fernando was right. They do have plenty of time.

f1 tag list: @j-brielmalfoy, @juphey

all tags list: @wordsarelife

[alluraaaa]

so @heynhay posted this art and i’m incapable of being normal so. here’s 3k words of angry pining. tee hee <3

———

Keith Kogane never does anything halfway. He doesn’t shrug or “why not, I’m not busy” his way into being a pilot, a paladin, a person. He feels everything with his whole chest so fiercely that he tastes a scream with every emotion.

So when Keith realizes he’s in love he punches a wall hard enough to break the skin over his knuckles.

Because why Lance? Lance, of all people, is the one his heart latched onto. Lance, who is loud and obnoxious and cares so much about everything and everyone. He, as well, puts his whole heart into every action, and doesn’t pull away from a fight— in fact, he starts most of them. It’s… exhilarating.

At that thought, Keith punches the same dent in the wall with his other fist.

He stares down at his knuckles, blood slowly trickling from scrapes, and scowls. He scowls because the first thought to his stupid brain is that it would be so nice if someone else wrapped up his hands for him. Someone with long, deft fingers who comes from a big family full of kids who fall and scrape their hands, so he’d have experience patching Keith up just right.

He kicks the wall this time.

———

He wraps his hands well enough. He has his own experience in violent outburst related medicine, so it’s not that bad actually. Not great, but whatever.

Whatever.

“Whatever,” he tells his gloves as he slips them over the bandages to keep them in place, as well as hide them. He doesn’t need Shiro mother-hen-ing him.

He hears a squeak, and turns to see one of the mice watching him from one of the desks, curious.

“Whatever,” he tells it, more force in his voice. He makes a shooing motion and it scampers off, probably to tell Allura.

Whatever.

He grabs an ice pack and presses it into his foot next. He kicked the wall with shoes on, but it was still enough force to leave him regretting the action. His boot now sits on the floor, with his sock on the examination table he sits on.

“There you are, man!” calls a voice, and Keith looks up to see Hunk entering the room.

“What’s up?”

“Well, we’re about to start movie night, but what’s up with you?”

“I, uh, stubbed my toe,” Keith says, knowing it comes out an obvious lie.

Hunk gives him a look that Keith can’t read, but changes the subject. “Still up for the movie? We haven’t started it, Lance wouldn’t without you.”

…

Hm.

Well.

Uh.

Keith wants to punch something again.

“Yeah,” Keith says, eloquently.

In his grip, the ice pack pops. Freezing liquid soaks his sock.

“Oh shit! You okay, dude?” Hunk says, closing the distance between them with large strides.

“I’m fine,” Keith says, maybe a little too loud. Gross gross gross gross gross— “Just. Gimme a few minutes to change.”

“Uh. Alright, if you say so,” Hunk says, looking… confused. Yeah, that’s fair.

Keith manages to calm down after that. Hunk leaves him to get a new sock and he spends a few moments in silence before rejoining the team, taking deep breaths.

And then the doors slide open at his approach, and the noise spills into his ears.

There’s a passionate argument happening between Hunk and Pidge about some technical jargon Keith couldn’t hope to follow. But he isn’t even trying to, because Lance is throwing his head back and laughing at their back and forth, face scrunched up in a way that oozes childlike joy.

And it’s only when Lance stops laughing and turns those brown eyes onto him that Keith realizes he’s been standing there in silence for a full ten seconds.

“There you are!” Lance says, unknowingly parroting his best friend. And Keith gets a head on look at that eye-crinkling, dimpled smile. “Thought you vanished or something.”

“I was busy,” Keith says simply, defensively. He crosses the room, standing close to the couch to look at the viewing screen. “What are we watching?”

“Yalay’s Scream,” Pidge says, “Altean horror movie.”

“Yes, after your human horror film, I have to show you something actually scary,” says Allura, who was completely unphased by the first three Saw movies. (Hunk had to leave twenty minutes into the first one.)

On screen the movie is paused, showing a title card written in spooky Altean font. Keith may not be the best at social cues, but he can hear the clear challenge in Allura’s voice. Resolute, he plops himself into the nearest seat on the couch.

Right next to Lance. If he explodes in a violent cacophony of viscera and fondness, so be it.

The movie starts, and it’s… confusing. There’s a lot of cultural subtext and commentary that Keith doesn’t understand, but he’s long since given up on trying to.

What he does understand though, is the way Lance is right next to him, their thighs touching. He feels it every time the other boy flinches or squirms. He just hopes Lance can’t feel Keith’s heartbeat just as clearly.

When the movie has a classic scene of silent anticipation, Keith can hear his own breath like it’s through a bullhorn. The whole team sits with tense patience as the lead walks silently down a narrow hallway.

Next to him, Lance draws his knees to his chest and wraps his arms around his shins. Keith turns his head ever so slightly to see Lance staring at the screen with wide, expressionless eyes.

Keith wants to do something stupid. Like put his arm around Lance’s shoulders and comfort him.

Quick as lightning, the tension in the scene dissipates. The lead is kidnapped. Hunk screams. Allura giggles.

Most importantly, Lance flinches and turns away from the screen. He’s facing Keith. He’s watching Keith watch him.

“What the fuck,” he whispers in terror, barely audible over the movie and the team reacting to it. “Why did we agree to this?”

Keith is staring. He knows he is and he should probably say something but he keeps staring.

Lance smiles, closed lips and fond eyes. “I don’t even like horror.”

“Yeah,” Keith says, eloquently.

“You do though, right? Is this actually scary or is it just me?”

Well, him and Hunk, who is trying to hide behind Pidge’s tiny frame. But Keith doesn’t know that. He’s too busy drowning. “It’s alright.” He couldn’t say a single thing that has happened on screen.

Lance squints, looking more amused. Good. Someone like him should only feel joy. “Right,” he says, before turning back to the movie. Keith makes himself do the same.

He forces himself to pay attention. Because his brain being a supercut of everything Lance Álvarez is embarrassing, even if no one else knows it.

The lead escapes her kidnapper. Someone else dies— her best friend or sibling or something. Yes yes, very tragic and sad. She takes their sword to fight the killer. Poetic cinema and whatnot—

Now hold the fucking phone and stop every single goddamn press because Lance Álvarez is putting his head on Keith’s shoulder. Keith freezes, totally rigid and unable to process anything save for the tickle of hair against his neck and squish of cheek against his shoulder.

But like. He’s sooooo normal and average about it.

The rest of the movie passes uneventfully. Well, surely there’s some resolution or scary thing or whatever but Keith doesn’t give a shit. Not until the credits start rolling and the lights turn back on— dim but still illuminating— and everyone shifts.

Pidge stands from where she was sandwiched like a human stress ball between Hunk and Allura, stretching her arms over her head. Hunk and Allura immediately occupy her empty space, talking about what they just watched. Coran adds his own commentary to the analysis— apparently he knew the director?

The noise and lights rouse Shiro, who slept through most of the film. His eyes immediately find Keith and Lance, and he smiles at Keith. A stupid, teasing older brother smile. Shiro’s known about this crush for a while, even without Keith voicing a single thought in his head. He’s apparently very easy for Shiro to read. Keith glares at him.

“Oh come on, it wasn’t that bad! Lance,” Allura is saying, and then she’s turning to face him. “tell Hunk he’s— oh.”

The entire team sees it now: Lance, curled up in a ball, leaned against Keith. Keith, a statue the color of his lion, supporting Lance. Four different facial expressions present themselves to him, but before he can decipher, Allura is turning triumphantly to Hunk.

“See? He fell asleep, it wasn’t that scary.”

“His head exploded!” Hunk shouts. Keith thinks, when?

His gaze falls to Lance. He’s apparently a heavy sleeper, if he still hasn’t risen during the ensuing argument. His face is squished into Keith, and it’s annoyingly, impossibly, terrifyingly adorable.

Fuck.

He stands up suddenly, and Lance falls into the spot where Keith just was. But Keith is too busy striding out the door.

“Wha? Huh?” is what he hears from a sleepy Lance before the doors close between them.

———

He’s finally decided to talk to Shiro about it.

He needs advice. On how to bend his mind to his will so that he can focus on literally anything else besides the warmth of Lance’s body against his. If Shiro could get straight As in the Garrison while head over heels for Adam, he’ll have to have something useful to tell Keith.

He doesn’t knock on Shiro’s door. Little brother privileges. Just opens it and walks into the already in progress advice session.

“I’m literally gonna jump out the airlock if this keeps happening, he’s just so—”

And everyone freezes. Keith, in the doorway. Shiro, on his bed. And Lance, pacing back and forth.

Keith and Lance’s eyes meet. Lance’s eyes widen. He panics.

“GET OUT!” he shrieks, arms flailing before he points out the door.

Keith doesn’t move as he processes Lance’s panicked rage. He’s interrupting something. He looks to Shiro.

“Give us five and I’ll come find you,” he says simply. He looks at Lance for a second, then adds, “Make it ten, actually.”

Wordlessly, Keith turns and walks away, the door sliding closed behind him.

He’s in his own room, doing push-ups so he doesn’t punch another wall, when Shiro finds him. He also doesn’t knock. Big brother privileges. Just opens it and strides in and falls onto Keith’s bed with a sigh.

“What’s up, kid?”

“I’m not a kid,” Keith says, finishing his push-up and moving to sit cross-legged. “What were you guys talking about?”

Mindlessly staring at the ceiling, Shiro says, “If I tell you then I tell Lance why you wanna talk to me.”

The mental image of Shiro nonchalantly broadcasting his feelings is enough to make even him let something go. “Fine,” Keith says.

“So what is it? Is it him?”

Keith sighs, falling apart to lay on the floor and also watch the ceiling. “Yeah.”

Shiro just hums in acknowledgment, waiting for Keith to continue.

“I don’t know what to do. I just keep thinking about him all the time. It’s the fucking worst.”

“Yeah, that’ll do it,” Shiro says, suspiciously sounding reminiscent.

“And the other day after the movie? I just left! Why did I do that? The fuck is wrong with me?”

“You want that list alphabetical or chronological?” Shiro quips.

Keith just sighs. “What do I do?”

“Tell him?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

Keith sits up. Makes Shiro look at him. “Have you just met me?” He made Shiro order for him at restaurants for a year.

Shiro raises an eyebrow, then lets his head fall back down. “Fair.”

Keith falls back onto the floor. “Yeah.”

“So you’re just not gonna tell him?”

“Yeah.”

“And then what?”

“And then I deal with it. How do I deal with it?”

Shiro laughs, quiet and mostly an exhalation. “I couldn’t tell you.”

“Then why are you here?”

“Because my baby brother is in love and I need to support him.”

Keith groans. “Shut the fuck up.”

“No. Can I be your best man at the wedding?”

“No. Allura’s best man. Best woman. Whatever, there’s no wedding!”

“But you’ve thought about it.”

“I’ll end you.”

“Wouldn’t be the first to try,” Shiro jokes. “But you really just aren’t gonna tell him?”

“No! I can’t!”

“But do you want to?”

“Yeah, obviously.” God, Shiro is stupid.

“Then why can’t you?”

“Because it’s me!” Keith sits up again. “I can’t talk, I-I can’t flirt, I’m not smooth like him and all the girls he likes!”

Wait.

He falls back onto the floor again. “What if he doesn’t even like guys?”

It’s silent as he processes this thought. How did it not occur to him before? And then, Shiro’s making a noise, soft and muffled and—

“Don’t laugh!” Keith says sitting up once again to glare at his brother.

“Sorry, sorry, it’s just…” Shiro covers his face with both hands and sighs into them, calming his amusement. “It’s just funny.”

“What about this is funny?” Keith demands, standing.

Shiro moves his hands away from his face to give Keith a look like this is the most entertaining thing he’s seen. “Nothing. Don’t worry about it. But you should tell him.”

Ugh. “Fuck off,” Keith decides, walking away to leave Shiro alone in Keith’s room. Shiro’s returning laughter follows him out.

———

Cleaning cryo-pods isn’t Keith’s ideal way to spend his day, but it isn’t as bad as it could be.

“Okay, okay. Truth or dare?” Lance calls from the pod next to Keith.

“Truth,” Keith says, because just five minutes ago he was dared to clean a pod while hanging upside down, and he almost needed to use said pod as a result.

“Hmm… do you like anyone?” Lance asks, ever casual.

“Yeah?” Keith says, “I like everyone.” This whole Voltron thing isn’t possible without everyone getting along.

“No, like, like like someone,” Lance says, “Romantically.”

Keith pauses. Then he resumes cleaning with more vigor. “Yeah.”

“Really!?”

“Yeah. Truth or dare?”

“No, wait!” Lance says, and Keith hears him approaching. “Who?”

“That wasn’t part of it. You get one question,” Keith says, erasing the last specks of dust off the inner walls. He steps out of the pod and drops his rag.

“Come on!” Lance says as Keith reaches for a sponge for the next pod. He grabs Keith’s wrist, pulling him away from the sponge and into Lance’s space. “Tell me.”

Keith looks at that face he’s damn near written poetry about and swallows. He rips his hand away and creates distance between them, and he’s sure his glare is murderous. “Fuck off.”

“Aww, he’s nervous!” Lance teases, following after Keith, who crosses his arms and shows his back to Lance, a clear message to not poke the bear.

Lance literally pokes him as he saddles up behind Keith, one hand settling on an elbow and another on a shoulder.

“Little Keithy’s in love?” Lance asks, and it’s clear in just his voice that he’s beaming. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Why would I tell you?” Keith asks through gritted teeth, his face on fire. He looks away from Lance, at the clean bare walls.

“Because I’m the best wingman this side of the universe!” Lance says, hands squeezing. “I can help you woo this mystery person. Step one,” His hand moves from his shoulder to gently tug at a lock of hair. “do something about this mess.”

Lance’s voice in his ear, Lance’s hand on his arm, Lance’s hand in his hair. It’s all too much and he’s about to do something stupid, like kiss him.

Instead he screws his eyes shut, uncrosses his arms, and presses a finger to Lance’s lips, stopping the words in their tracks. He extends his arms fully, pushing Lance away and creating distance between them.

There’s a beat of silence, neither boy moving. And then Keith feels the soft exhale of a laugh on his hand, and then another hand in his.

He opens his eyes and swivels his head just in time to see Lance pressing a kiss into the back of Keith’s hand like royalty, right on the gap in the glove, lips to skin.

Keith stares, unable to do anything as Lance, face dusted with the smallest blush, drops Keith’s hand and leans back on his heels. His smile is shaky. “Sorry Romeo, I’m just messing with y—”

Unthinking, Keith presses his palm to Lance’s mouth. “Do it again.”

Lance’s blush erupts in full force. The two maintain eye contact as Lance gently, slowly takes Keith’s hand in his again, head bowing as he presses a kiss there again, painstakingly gentle.

Keith watches as Lance moves so thoughtfully, asking permission with every shift. His hands glide up Keith’s arm, hands coming up to cup his face. There’s barely a height difference, despite Lance’s insistence, but Keith feels those centimeters like miles as he looks up into Lance’s eyes.

Lance’s eyes, which are pointed south, lower than Keith’s own eyes, to stare at his lips. His eyes flit back up, and in the eye contact a silent question is asked. Keith manages a weak nod.

Their lips meet and Keith is first and foremost blown away by how soft Lance is. He’s known for months now that Lance is capable of inhuman degrees of kindness and compassion, but it’s never been directed his way. To feel this softness, of his hands, of his lips, of how he moves, is breathtaking. Keith’s hands fall to Lance’s waist and he tries to follow along, tries to be soft too. It’s surprisingly easy; Lance makes him soft, after all.

When they part, it’s all too soon.

Lance is still cupping Keith’s face, looking down at him with pure awe. Keith’s pretty sure he’s faring about the same. They’re both still blushing, and everything is warm warm warm.

“Truth or dare?” Keith asks before he knows what he’s doing.

Lance smiles, and Keith finds the other half of himself. “Dare.”

Keith licks his lips. “Kiss me again.”

Lance chuckles, leaning back in. “If you insist.”

[ethereance]

𝒮𝓉𝒶𝓎 𝒮𝒶𝒻𝑒

Allura thinks of him—the boy she met so long ago and yet not so much, time a deceptive thing—and remembers the arms she fell into, unfamiliar at the time, as were those ears—strange, utterly so—and she thinks of pickup lines, how there must have been an entire part of his brain dedicated to them with often they fell from his lips.

She thinks of agitation, nights spent wondering if these paladins really could achieve what her father set out to, bringing peace to the universe, when most were immature, the blue one especially, so close in age, and worlds apart with everything else.

She thinks of Lance, of everything that he was back then, the face he wore—obnoxious, carefree—and wonders just when this feeling entered her heart, when mild distaste gave way to admiration and affection, something childish and spirited creeping there as if she had time to find someone to fancy, a teenager in a school, and not the soldier princess she is, caught in a war that is more than her own wants.

Wonders when his presence became one she sought out, dear to her this teammate, this friend, this confidant, this Lance who has become everything that fondness can provide.

Wonders when it became something she might call love, so strong in Allura’s heart she cannot deny it, not when it is so obvious now, every beat so clamorous she’s sure everyone can hear it, her feelings stuck on a loudspeaker. Love—she has that in abundance with him, glad to have Lance in her life, to have people like the paladins, to be family where she had lost it. But there’s something different with him, an intensity to it, one that invites risk, in jumping into open space for a life that isn’t your own. Allura has sacrificed, has done so, but the loss of him brought her a terror not even she can quite express, his life something else, cherished in a way that plants buds in her heart.

She wonders, but there is nothing to pinpoint, nothing at all. Just a gradual descent. Allura did not trip and fall as when Lotor had ensnared her with his charms, but walked, walked and oh—how blissful that walk had been, to look around and realise that she wanted him as her destination, hands entwined in a union as one. Because this is Lance, and there is something so genuine to him, his loyalty and kindness such strengths in a universe battered and bruised, and what a gift it is to see that, to experience that, his support a pillar she can lean upon. Allura sees greatness there, and wishes, not for the first time, there could be a way for her father to see him, to realise that that spark is continued in him, a pilot of the same lion who tries and tries and tries to do what’s right.

Allura loves him, values him, adores him, but there is no place for that daydream, not here in the thick of bloodshed. Not now when Earth is hanging in the balance, when Lance could lose the very home that she had lost. Not now when they have a mission.

It comes first.

But maybe theirs is a future that could be fought for, maybe one quintant if what the mice said still holds true there will be time for them, and that dream in her heart can come true. Peace, with him. It sounds delightful.

So—

“I wanted to say, stay safe out there,” she says up to him, face aflame, and hopes with everything in her heart he does.

[shelbgrey]

Lance Sweets as a Dad headcanons:

Paring: Dad!Lance Sweets x Twins x Wife!Reader

Summary: headcanons about you and Lance being parents to twins.

MasterList

It's no secret Lance is an amazing dad, your twins were a bit of a suprise though. You guy had just gotten engaged when you found out.

He was so happy when you told him, he always wanted to be dad and start a family with you.

“I'm gonna be a dad!” he cheered as he picked you up and spung you around.

He'll always make sure your comfortable and happy through out the whole pragency.

He will alway volunteer to go to the store and get whatever food your craving at the time.

you guys were so excited when you found out you were having twins, you grew up with a brother(Hodgins) so you were glad your kids had each other like you had Jack.

Giving birth sucks... As most did, Lance and Angela were there the whole time comforting you and cheering you on while your brother and the rest of your friends family were in the waiting room.

Lance cried a bit while holding them. “they're so tiny” he smiled looking at his daughter

You chuckled sarcastically as you cuddled your son “don't tell that to the person who pushed them out”

Your set of twins was a boy and a girl, Dean Seeley Sweets and Charlotte Jack Sweets. They both have your eyes and Lance's dark curly hair.

Dean is very much like you, he has your smile and is very compassionate like you. He also gets attached to the same interests you have, he loves Elvis just as much as you do and he wants to be a Forensic Entomologist like you and his uncle Jack.

Charlotte is like Lance, very Geeky and has a heart of gold like her dad, she loves animals and wants to be a Vet but she also wants to be a Shrink like Lance, it changes every other month.

They were very easy baby's to take care of, Dean was a cryer though. Lance was always getting up in the middle of the night to comfort him before he woke up you and Charlotte. “please don't wake up mommy” he mumbled as he rocked his son.

Your kids don't get jealous of each other, they love you and Lance both equally but Dean is a mama's boy and Charlotte is a Daddy's girl.

They're spoiled roaten, Lance would give your twins the world if he could. Your more of the protective one, you'll beat someone up if they harm your babbies.

You guys always show interest in the things your kids love, Lance trys to remember all your daughter's stuff animals names and try to learn how to play with pokemon cards with your son.

Your always watching their favorite movies with them with curiosity and your always willing to listen to their rants or what there passionate about.

Your daughter loves Monster High dolls, she has almost every character and she gets Lance to play with her all the time. He's spent so much time watching the cartoons and playing with her he knows all the names.

He knows Gil and Franky are her favorites, there was a couple of months were Charlotte tried to convince her dad Gil was her boyfriend. She carried the call every where and he was her favorite.

“it's kinda werid? I mean I have a daughter too and I get to some level but he's a fish boy” Seeley said one day.

Lance shrugged as he held the doll. “he doesn't talk back, he doesn't check her out, and he won't cheat”

Just as he said that your daughter came running in with her cute little angry face and her arms cross. “he's Jackass, Daddy! He likes Christine's Barbie more than me”

The boys tried not to laugh but that the same time Lance gave Seeley a side eye, knowing Christine taught Charlotte the word Jackass.

“I stand corrected” Lance said, tossing the doll on the couch.

Your son Dean doesn't really like playing with them, he only play dolls with his sister if he has your old Elvis Barbie doll.

Your son likes music and Pokémon. He grew up listening to old rock music with you, he also wants to learn how to play guitar.

Angel's father is kinda like a grandpa to them, you nor Lance have parents alive so your brother's father-in-law was more than happy to be a grandpa to your twins. Dean wants to learn how to play guitar from him.

Lance trys his hardest not to get mad, even if your kids did something uneceptable. After he got on to them he'll immediately feel bad, he doesn't want them to be afraid of him like he was all his foster parents.

“your an amazing dad and they'll always love you”

Like I said before, he'll give the twins the world if he could but they want a dog, so he'll settle on that. He brought home a black lab puppy one day. The twins were so happy and named him Duke.

Jack and Angela are literally the best aunt and uncle out there, just putting it out there and the twins are really close with Michael Vincent.

Christine is also close to the twins too, Dean has a small innocent crush on her but they're both to young to really understand.

Seeley and Temperance are also amazing 'aunt and uncle'. Charlotte loves being around Seeley and playing with monster trucks with him. Dean always has a listing ear to Temperance if she wants to explain something scientific or talk about a new plot for her book.

You and Lance invested in a California king size bed because the twins are always trying to bunk with you...you also have a black lab joing in on the sleep over too. Getting the big bed just helps everyone be comfortable.

Your always taking them to lab and showing them around, Cam loves them too much to really say anything. They don't mind going to Bureau with Lance but is kinda boring to them, they like saying hi to James Aubrey and Caroline though.

They love going to Seely's office, there's so much stuff to play with. Lance made a joke how Dean is allowed to play with Seeley's bobble head and he's not.

Charlotte just likes setting in the comfy chairs in Lance's office and read Dr. Seuss books.

Lightsaber battles between Dean and Lance all the time, and coincidence or not they're always doing to while you and Charlotte are trying to watch Supernatural or Grey's anatomy.

Dean just gets crazier and crazier the older he gets, in a good way of course. Him and Michael Vincent would be out side playing with firecrackers or digging a hole while Christine and Charlotte set quietly in the house coloring and watching cartoons.

The twins are close but they get into fights alot. Sometimes it worrys you, you don't want them hating each other. “they love each other Honey and it's just a phase... Not every sibling is gonna be as close as you and Jack are”

You know he's right and not even a week later the two were glued to the hip again.

You truly believe your family is perfect, your twins are smart and have hearts of gold and they have an amazing dad.

Lance feels like the luckyest man alive and he couldn't be happier. He also couldn't be prouder of his children.

[autisticlancemcclain]

fic rec friday 52

hello and welcome to fic rec friday! where, on friday, i rec five of my favourite fics. and a quick note before i start: happy one year, everyone! a year of fic rec fridays! i started doing these when my blog really started to take off, and it's been an honour to share these with you :)

A Kind Demon And A Scary Angel by vrepit-nah (anonymous)

Day 18 - Forbidden Love Shiro breaks his head trying to appease the angel and demon on his shoulders and stop them to killing the other. He soon finds out that he didn't need to after all.

making lance's troublemaking ass the demon. so real. poor shiro can never have a break in any universe 😭😭 he just wants to vibe and he just gets bothered by klance all the time

2. Of Friends and Rivals (And Lovers) by vrepit-nah (anonymous)

Lance McClain has a big family, and that means no one is really ever alone in a room at any point of time. It becomes unnatural for him to feel when he’s in space in a huge castle with barely any people. So, he tries to fill the hole in his heart by seeking out his teammates. It strikes Keith odd one day when Lance begins hanging out with him instead of his other friends, and worst of all, it seems like Lance is caving in on himself without anyone noticing. Or: 5 times Lance seeks out to hang out with a friend, and the one time he doesn’t.

the first time i read part v i gasped OUT LOUD bc i was like no way he's gonna fuck up that bad. no goddamn way. and then he DID and i HOLLERED

3. Today, anew by MemeKonVLD (MemeKonYA)

“Lance.” Lance’s eyebrows furrow in concern for a second before his whole face goes gentle and open. “Hey buddy, everything okay?” Keith nods. Then shakes his head, then opens his mouth to let out a noisy sob before he’s hugging the air out of Lance, grip vise tight. Lance hugs him back. That’s one of the great things about him— he doesn’t— he doesn’t need explanations for things like this. He doesn’t make Keith jump through hoops, the way other people might— he’s just— he just knows what Keith needs in times like this. No façades, no posturing. (Or: the one where Keith is trapped in a time loop. A time loop from hell.)

their worst nightmares are each other dying. i am going to lose my mind. i am sobbing and screaming and yelling on the floor. i am sucking on cement. nobody touch me

4. Visions by @snowwarning27

"It’s funny, because as a tattoo artist he makes art that lasts pretty much forever – as far as the person who has it is concerned – but a street artist…their art lasts maybe a couple of days." Keith comes in for a tattoo; Lance immediately falls in love. With his art. His love for Keith comes later.

it's usually tattoo artist keith but tattoo artist lance my LOVE. also i will never get over graffiti artist keith i think about him all the time the punk ass

5. story received, story included by @freshia

(4:20PM): u know, number neighbor, i think i need a chiropractor.  (4:23PM): ? (4:25PM): because my back really hurts (4:25PM): from carrying this conversation ;(

Lance texts his number neighbor.

i LOVE texting fics. they're so fun. and lance in a texting fic is always funny bc it's so obviously true that he would be so funny if he had time to think about it. and of course keith would fall for him over text

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

[mclaremms]

saw @strollist do this and it seemed fun so...

who is your favourite driver?: 2024 MIAMI GRAND PRIX WINNER LANDO NORRIS!!!!!!!!!! I've loved and followed him since his first fp1 as a test driver for Mclaren in 2018 and i've been DOWN FOR HIM EVER SINCE!!!!! 👑

Lewis also holds a very special place in my heart though 🫶 i've been a fan of F1 since i was 6 years old in 2007, and the first ever race i fully watched on telly was the canadian GP of that year - where he won for the first time. so i'll always be a Lewis fan deep down too

do you have any other favourite drivers?: Oscar Piastri is my no.2, i adore that man with every fibre of my being 🧡

i'd also class Max, Charles and Fernando as favourites of mine as well though

and logan, i just want him to do well 🥺

Also not on the current grid, but Sebastian Vettel is my all time favourite next to Lando and i fucking WEPT alone in my room for a literal HOUR when he announced his retirement. and then again at the end of his last race. and sometime still when i think about it - i'm tearing up right now 🥲

who is your least favourite driver?: Lance Stroll... 🫣😬🤷‍♀️

do you pull for drivers or do you like teams as well?: driver's mostly, just so happens that my two faves (Lando + Oscar) drive for Mclaren, which has been my favourite team since 2007.

the drivers matter more to me, but i will say that my love for Lewis made me a Mercedes fan for a long time.

And in the famous words of Seb Vettel - everyone is a Ferrari fan 🏎️ 💨💨💨

if you like teams, what team do you pull for?: Mclaren's been my home for 18 years. TEAM PAPAYA 🧡

how long have you been into f1?: it's consumed my life for eighteen years now, but i've only recently begun to outwardly show it because @panevanbuckley became a fan so i've had someone to share it with... and now i've started i don't think i could ever stop. seriously. my friends all think i'm crazy

what got you into f1?: my dad has been a fan since he was a kid and i grew up watching him watch races, until i apparently had nothing to do one sunday and i watched one with him. been hooked ever since.

do you enjoy fanfic/RPF: i do. i think as long as its a) respectful, b) not unconsensually shared with the people involved, or c) misrepresented as anything other than fiction then there's no issue with it.

that being said if a driver came out and said they had a problem with it, i wouldn't consume anything they wouldn't want out there if that makes sense.

how do you view new fans?: as long as they're respectful and not causing problems i encourage and welcome every new fan to the sport - whether its through media, DTS or anything else.

if you could take over as team principal for any team, who would it be and why?: williams. i want to see them do well so much like they used to. plus i'd shut the logan replacement rumours down straight away. 😤

are your friends and family into f1 as well?: the only one who comes close to my level of love for F1 is @panevanbuckley

but i'm slowly trying to get another friend of mine into it just as much, she makes us f1 themed bracelets 🥹

also my dad is a long time fan.

are you open to talking to other fans/friends?: yessssss! i'm shit at keeping up a conversation about literally anything else but F1 will have me chatting for HOURS

tagging: @panevanbuckley obvs, + anyone else, i'd love to see peoples opinions