#idk if this is a ficlet lol

[patheticgirlsteve]

After everything finally settles, El gets really into arts and crafts. She’s seen the art that Will makes and knows that she’s probably not going to be capable of that level of artistry, but watching her brother paint and draw makes her want to be creative too.

She didn’t like school in California, but she liked making her diorama for class, painting and cutting and glueing the pieces of it together. She had decorated the box that she kept letters from Mike in with stickers, drawings, and pictures. She liked doing that, she realized. She liked being creative.

She goes to Will for help. Nervously tells him that she wants to make her own kind of art, but that she doesn’t know where to start. Will is extremely enthusiastic with his help, he’s excited that El has decided to explore her creativity and he’s honored that she’s asking him for help.

After brainstorming ideas, they decide to give scrapbooking a try. El likes this idea because it gives her a place to keep all of her memories, a place that she can easily access and flip through. She can fill it with pictures and drawings and newspaper clippings of her family and her friends, the most important people in her life. And she can decorate it however she wants to. It’s perfect.

Joyce and Hopper are more than happy to support and fund this endeavor, Joyce slips El some money for art supplies with a wink that makes El grin, and Hop drives El and Will to the nearest craft store so they can get everything they need.

They come home that day with four bags filled with supplies, running up the stairs to El’s room with excited giggles that make Joyce and Hop share a secret fond smile. It warms both of their hearts to see their kids happy.

Earlier in the week El had asked Jonathan if he had any pictures of their family and friends printed out that he could give her for her scrapbook, and Jonathan had dug through all of his prints to find some for her.

El’s favorite picture, the one she puts front and center on the very first page of her book, is a picture of the Party that Jonathan had taken right before the move to California. In it, there are tears on people’s faces at having to say goodbye, but everyone is smiling and El can see the love etched into everyone’s features.

El falls in love with scrapbooking pretty quickly. She fills her first one with all sorts of mementos of her life; photos, movie ticket stubs, pressed flowers from a bouquet Mike had gifted her. Each item is carefully labeled in El’s painstakingly neat handwriting.

Everyone notices how much she loves her new craft and start contributing to it in whatever ways they can; Will draws pictures of whatever El asks for on the pages, Max finds her some cool stickers to decorate with, Steve buys her some craft scissors to make fun patterns with.

Maybe the biggest contribution comes from Jonathan. Since starting her books, El has developed a new interest in photos and photography, and Jonathan has been showing her how he does a lot of the work he does with his camera. He’s happy to teach her, he likes spending time with her and he’s glad that she’s found something to pour her creativity into.

For her next birthday, Jonathan gifts her her very Polaroid camera. He’s been saving up for it for her for a while now, and he’s nervous when she starts to unwrap it at the birthday party the group decided to throw for her.

El, of course, loves it. She sets the camera down very gently and carefully before launching herself at Jonathan to hug him tightly and whisper a soft and sincere “thank you” to him.

Jonathan wraps his arms around her and gives her squeeze, “You’re welcome.”

[steddieasitgoes]

Eddie, who, as a child, struggled with making decisions, so Wayne gifted him a Magic 8 ball that he could turn to for guidance. Eddie spends most of his childhood carrying around the Magic 8 Ball, using it to decide between mac and cheese (ask again later) or chicken strips (signs point to yes) at lunch or whether he should go talk to the new kid Gareth (without a doubt). 

Eddie slowly starts to make his own decisions but keeps onto the Magic 8 Ball for important, life-changing questions. He asks if he should drop out of school after failing his first senior year (my reply is no) and then again if he should repeat said senior year (it is decidedly so). He even asks if he should start working for Reefer Rick (reply hazy, try again) -- it’s the one time he chose to ignore the ball’s advice. 

Unfortunately, Eddie doesn’t have his Magic 8 Ball on him when the witch hunt starts. He wishes he could ask it if all this hiding and running is going to be worth it. But for once, Eddie has to rely on his own decisions. So he keeps going. Lets Dustin and his friends take him under their wing and protect him. Has to trust that Nancy’s plan is going to work and that Steve is going to make Vecna pay when he nods his head at his request. 

It’s hard trusting other people without having something to double check the universe’s whims on, but he has no choice. 

When he survives and gets sent to the hospital, the Magic 8 Ball is one of the first thing he asks Uncle Wayne to bring him from home. The first question he asks: was any of it real (without a doubt). Oh, how he wishes it was all a dream.

The second question he asks later when he’s all alone: will I get over my crush on Steve (very doubtful). Not pleased with the answer, Eddie pushes the Magic 8 Ball aside and rolls his eyes. What does it know anyway? 

As his recovery continues, Eddie comes to rely on his Magic 8 Ball less and less because he has a group of friends around him who are there to offer their guidance. The Magic 8 ball stays perched on the small hospital table though, always in reach if he needs it. 

He nearly tells Wayne to take it home one night, but he’s glad he doesn’t because in the morning he wakes to find Steve shaking the ball in his hands. 

“Didn’t strike you as a Magic 8 ball kind of guy, Harrington,” Eddie teases, voice thick with sleep and whatever drugs are still coursing through his body. 

“M’not usually, but I needed a little guidance with this question.” 

“Oh yeah? And what does the magic ball say?” 

“It just says yes.”

"Ah, the most definitive of Magic 8 Ball answers.” 

“So I should trust it then?” 

“That depends,” Eddie says, stretching out on the uncomfortable hospital bed. “What did you ask it?”

"I asked it if I could kiss you.” 

Without thinking, Eddie sits up and snatches the Magic 8 Ball from Steve’s hands. He ducks his head, closes his eyes, and mouths his question before violently shaking the Magic 8 Ball. 

It is certain.

“What did you ask it?” Steve asks, stepping closer to Eddie’s hospital bed.

“If you were being serious.” 

“And? What did it say?” 

Eddie turns the Magic 8 Ball so Steve can see the little triangle floating. When he looks up, he sees Steve barely containing the smile breaking out on his face. 

“Guess you better kiss me, Harrington,” Eddie teases. “Don’t want to upset the Magic 8 Ball gods.”

[wikiangela]

It's a quiet evening, they're winding down after a long, exhausting day of work, just enjoying each other's company. They're on the couch, a cheesy romcom playing on the TV, Tommy's head in Buck's lap, Buck's fingers playing with Tommy's soft curls.

He's watching Tommy more than the movie. He observes his reactions, the soft smiles, the small chuckles, the eye rolls and scoffs - depending on what's happening on the screen. He's so beautiful and Buck wants to stare at him forever. And he gets to.

He beams, as he glances at his hand, still in Tommy's hair, where a simple silver band sits right on his ring finger, an exact match to the one on Tommy's hand, now casually resting on his stomach. Well, almost an exact match, the inscription on the inside just a little bit different - they both say their wedding date and the word 'forever' but they also have each other's names inscribed. Buck likes to take if off sometimes and just look at the words, trace his fingertip over Tommy's name, still amazed that this is his life, even after over a year of being married already.

So he observes his husband, eyes scanning all over, while Tommy's completely immersed in the movie, the romantic dork - Buck loves that he's the only one who truly gets to see this side of him. He's so cute and gorgeous, and Buck loves him so much and just can't take his eyes off him.

That's when he notices it, and a gasp breaks out of him. He can feel a huge grin pulling at his face.

"What's wrong?" Tommy immediately looks at him, a small concerned frown creasing his forehead. When he notices Buck smiling, worry turns into pure confusion. "Evan?"

"Baby." Buck says seriously, his fingers gripping a strand of Tommy's hair, as he announces happily, "You have your first gray hair." He's looking right at it, just a tiny, barely noticeable, silvery hair. It's there, and it looks beautiful, and Buck already kind of can't wait to see his husband get more of them.

"Okay?" Tommy's frown deepens, this time with amusement. "So?"

"So-" Buck starts, then shakes his head. It's stupid, it's just a hair, no big deal, everyone gets them eventually, it's nothing special. But in a way, it is. Because when they met a few years ago Tommy didn't have gray hair. Because in their line of work, and with their luck, with Buck's luck, seeing yourself or a person you love grow old is not always a given - and it's such a blessing. This, seeing a gray hair in Tommy's hair, combined with wrinkles starting to form on his beautiful face - it's an amazing sight. They're sharing a life together, growing older together, they're able to see each other go through all these changes, step by step, day by day, seemingly unnoticeable unless you pay particular attention. It makes Buck feel so grateful for this life he has, for his husband, for getting this chance. "Nothing," he says, fingers resuming combing through Tommy's thick curls, eyes still drawn to that lone gray hair. "I just love you."

"I love you, too, Evan." Tommy smiles that crinkly smile that makes the lines around his eyes even more pronounced. Buck has to lean down and kiss his lips, then the corner of his eye, making Tommy laugh. "What's that have anything to do with my gray hair?"

"I just really like the thought of getting to grow old with you. Of spending my life with you." Buck whispers, and sees Tommy's smile melt into that soft 'Evan' smile, reserved just for him.

"And you say I'm sappy," he responds teasingly, and Buck laughs. Oh, he loves Tommy so much. He looks into Tommy's eyes and sees everything he was just thinking about. He sees how Tommy wants the same things, how he appreciate those reminders, like a silly gray hair, of getting to go through life together.

He kind of can't wait to start going gray, too. To grow old with his husband.

[wormdebut]

JULY MICRO FIC - YOU JUST MIGHT GET IT

@steddiemicrofic | PROMPT: one | WORD COUNT: 111 | Rated: M | CW: horny fucks

——

Steve never expected things to turn out like this. Headed back to Eddie Munsons place.

Jesus Christ.

If the closeted fuck he was in high school could see him now.

Eddie looks ethereal in the street lights. Steve always knew he would, he just—hadn’t gotten the chance to act on it, until tonight.

Eddie turns around, grinning from ear to ear, “You sure about this, big boy?”

Steve blushes, can’t help it. “A good fucking orgasm? Hell yeah.”

Eddie laughs pulling him forward, “One? Oh, sugar, you don’t know what you’ve signed up for.”

Steve can’t help the nervous giggle that escapes his lips as Eddie pulls him, meeting his lips.

[urdreamgirls-dreamgirl]

ok picture it.

steve and eddie both work at a small cafe in the city that specializes in light sandwiches and pasta dishes. steve is the opening manager, off before eddie, a line cook, makes it in for the closing shift and the evening rush.

every day, steve leaves a “friendly reminder” note on the break room whiteboard for the closing shift and every day, eddie’s blood boils when he reads it. it’s not like the closing shift leaves the place looking like a dump; it’s difficult to juggle the dinner rush and pick up the morning shifts slack when they’d left all their dirty dishes in the sink from breakfast and done absolutely no prep for the closers.

in august, one of the cafes busiest months, when tables are full of rude tourists and college students, the closing manager goes on maternity leave and steve’s forced to cover for her. eddie and steve meet for the first time ever and eddie’s even more annoyed by the fact that steve is gorgeous and fuckin cheerful, even after long days where he’s constantly stepping in to defuse conflicts between horrible costumers and the waitstaff.

about two weeks into steve covering the closing shift, he rounds up all the line cooks, hostesses, and waiters and personally apologizes to them for thinking the closing shift was easy. this shit is hard! infinitely harder than opening the store in the morning. he promises them that when he returns to his morning shift duties, he’ll be much more conscious of the way the staff leaves the kitchen for the closers.

after the staff meeting, eddie’s cold feelings start to thaw. it’s clear that steve means what he said. eddie’s never seen a restaurant manager working with the dishwashers at the sink after close. and steve even agrees to let eddie stay after hours to try out some of his own recipes, in hopes they might make it to the menu someday.

after the closing manager returns from her maternity leave, there’s a remarkable shift in the atmosphere of the restaurant. prep work is done before the closers come in, no dishes pile up in the sink, and if there is ever left over work from a particularly busy morning, steve always stays after his shift is over to help take care of it. eddie can’t help but feel a growing fondness for the guy.

one night in december, when eddie’s stayed late to try a new recipe for christmas cookies, the little bell above the front door starts to jingle as it swings open and then closes. it’s not that unusual. sometimes a manager or one of the shift leads has forgotten something or a late delivery is set to arrive and someone has to be there to sign for it.

just as eddie is setting the cookies on a cooling rack, steve walks in to the kitchen, looking… really good. like, date night good. eddie briefly mourns the loss before he calls out a greeting from across the kitchen. steve looks up at him then, smiling wide.

“oh hey, man. forgot my phone in the office,” steve tells him in explanation, moving through the open door next to the walk in freezer. when he reappears in the kitchen, he holds up his phone triumphantly for eddie to see, grinning. he walks around the counter to stand next to eddie. “so what’s on the menu tonight?”

sometimes, when steve was still working the closing shift and had stayed late after mostly everyone had gone home, he’d ask eddie what he was cooking. and eddie, after the pivotal staff meeting, would tell him and sometimes, if he was super confident, he’d even offer steve a taste. steve would compliment him and tell him how awesome it was and, for a few shining moments, eddie would pretend that he could feel something between them.

“just some christmas cookies. trying to work out the mint-to-chocolate ration. wanna taste?” eddie looks up at steve then and thinks he must imagine the way the other man’s eyes dart to his mouth.

“yeah, sure,” steve murmurs softly in the quiet kitchen. eddie clears his throat and takes a small step back, out of steve’s space, and picks up one of the freshly baked cookies, holding it out to steve. steve takes it and takes a bite so big, he’s practically eaten the entire thing in one go. he chews, a contemplative look on his face, before his eyes widen, eyebrows shooting up into his hairline. “fuck, dude,” steve practically moans, mouth full. “i think you nailed it.” it’s a testament to how hot steve truly is that eddie can watch him speak with his mouth full and not be disgusted by him. not even a little bit.

“yeah?” eddie can feel the grin on his own face, practically splitting his cheeks in two.

steve steps a little closer, eating up the space eddie had tried to put between them. “you tried one yet?” steve asks, voice low. eddie swallows and shakes his head. steve’s eyes dart back down to eddie’s lips again, slower and more purposeful this time. “well, you gotta have a taste, eddie.” steve’s voice is practically a purr and eddie can feel the other man’s breath on his lips. neither of them moves to reach for another cookie. instead, steve lifts the remaining bite he has in his hands and lifts it to eddie’s mouth. eddie drops his jaw, obedient, even without being told, and feels steve place the cookie on his tongue. he chews, swallows, all while maintaining eye contact with steve. “good, right?” steve whispers. all eddie can do it nod.

and then, suddenly, the space between them is non-existent. eddie feels steve’s lips against his own, firm and so much softer than he could’ve imagined. steve has him pressed against the counter, his body firm against him and his hand plunged into eddie’s hair, loosening his tight bun. steve’s other hand is on his hip, inching up under the hem of his jacket. eddie let’s out an embarrassing little squeak before his own hands curl into the front of steve’s shirt.

as quickly as it starts, steve’s pulling away, placing a much more chaste kiss to the corner of eddie’s panting mouth.

“been dying to do that,” steve confesses, eyes meeting eddie’s searching. “i forget my phone here at least once a week. keep trying to run into you.” steve huffs out a little laugh. it’s eddie’s turn to look surprised, but he recovers quickly and pulls steve in for another kiss.

[unclewaynemunson]

Wayne sees it all happen from his armchair. He’s quiet, hidden away in the corner, so usually the kids forget he’s even there within the hour. He enjoys being on the fringe of his nephew’s new group of friends from there, simply observing them, watching them from behind his newspaper, tuning in and out of whatever it is they’re talking about. Every now and then, one of them comes up to him for a chat or to offer him a drink, but they mostly leave him alone in his corner, just how he likes it.

He sees how Eddie makes every single one of them feel like the crappy old trailer is a place they can always come home to. He sees how Eddie always makes sure that Max is comfortable in her wheelchair and not missing out on anything going on around them because she can’t see. He notices how he always speaks to Eleven in an extra soft voice, reigning himself in a bit from his usual theatrics in order not to startle her. He hears how he’s never afraid to tell Dustin that he loves him and he sees the way Dustin starts beaming whenever he does. He sees how he makes a habit of taking Will aside from the group for hushed, earnest-looking conversations, and he sees how that always leaves Will with a brightness in his eyes and a smile around his lips. He sees how he plays around with the other two boys, Mike and Lucas, who are all over Eddie every chance they get. He sees how he always has some extra candy at hand for the youngest one, Erica. He sees the softness in his features, the sparkle in his eyes, whenever those kids are around, and it reminds him of how he felt himself, all those years ago, whenever little Eddie would show up at his trailer unexpectedly.

He also sees how embarrassed Eddie is to accept the help of Nancy Wheeler. He notices how she refuses to take no for an answer and shows up multiple nights a week to tutor him. He sees how she strictly refuses to let him get distracted when they’re doing their homework, and he hears the honest heart-to-hearts they have after they’re done. He sees the way Eddie looks at her: like he gained an older sister who is always looking out for him, even though she must be younger than him. Like he’d be completely lost without her.

He sees how much fun Eddie has with Robin Buckley. He sees how much chaos they create whenever they’re together. He listens along as they bond over music, and he tries not to eavesdrop as they talk about their respective hopeless crushes and being queer in a small town in rural Indiana. He sees the way Eddie looks at her: like he gained a twin sister who is exactly like him. Like he understands her in a way he never understood anyone before.

And he especially sees how Eddie feels about Steve Harrington. It’s written all over his face, so it’s really impossible to miss: it’s in the longing gaze in his big brown eyes, the way he shamelessly stares at the boy for minutes on end whenever they’re watching a movie together; it’s in the way he hangs onto every single word the boy says, even when they’re having the most mundane conversations possible; it’s in the way he leans into him, almost as if he isn’t noticing he’s doing it; it’s in the way he loudly laughs at every single one of his jokes, no matter how unfunny they are; it’s in the way he always seems to find some excuse to touch him, brushing their hands together when he hands him a drink or sitting a little bit too close to him on the couch or reaching for his shoulder whenever he makes some kind of flirty remark at him. Wayne sees all of it, but he doesn’t worry. Because he also sees the way in which Steve leans back into Eddie’s touches, he also sees the way in which Steve is constantly staring at Eddie’s lips, he also sees the fond looks Steve can’t seem to stop giving Eddie, and he definitely sees the blush creeping over Steve’s cheeks whenever Eddie is openly flirting with him. He sees it all happen from his armchair and he knows they’ll be alright.

[nothankyoudear]

Ever since Merlin was a small child, Hunith had always bombarded him with loving touches. She carried him whenever she could, and when he grew too big to be carried, she left him with warm hugs and soft touches on his cheeks. She wiped his tears when he cried, and intertwined their fingers on cold nights as they slept.

Arthur, on the other hand, could not remember the last time he was touched by his father in any way other than a firm clasp on the shoulder. All his life, he's known nothing but side glances and firm remarks. No one was there to wipe his tears away when he cried, and certainly no one was there to hold him on cold nights as he slept.

He was the prince of Camelot, after all, and everyone knew that princes cannot be soft.

Which was why, the first time that Merlin went in for a hug, Arthur immediately flinched back.

They stood in silence for a few moments before Arthur left, unable to stand the tension in the air. Not thinking much about it, he had rendered it just another one of those awkward little moments with Merlin that would soon dissipate from his memory.

Oh, how wrong he was.

Arthur found himself unable to move on from it. He spent that night turning in his bed, wondering what it would've been like if he accepted Merlin's hug - The warmth and comfort that he had only ever seen given to others. He fell asleep wondering what it would feel like to be embraced by another.

Merlin doesn't do it again, at least not for a while. It was understandable, especially after Arthur reacted so drastically at his first attempt at closeness, but Arthur still couldn't help but spend another few sleepless nights regretting his reaction.

Because he was the prince of Camelot, and if Merlin - irresponsible, reckless, sarcastic Merlin - wasn't willing to touch him, then no one was.

So when the second time came - when Merlin, most likely without thinking ("when does he ever think?"), went in for a hug, Arthur hugged back.

He wrapped Merlin in his arms, and oh, it was bliss. The warmth and the comfort and the closeness that he had heard so much about were all real. He couldn't help but tighten his arms around the other boy's thin body and lean in, rendered helpless by a sense of aching intimacy.

Questions immediately appeared in Arthur's mind: How had he survived up until then without touches like these? If Merlin had never been assigned as his manservant, would he have gone his whole life without experiencing this? And now that he's finally experienced this, how could he go without it for the rest of his life?

The thought pained Arthur, so he squeezed even harder.

They didn't talk about it afterwards, but Arthur knew that Merlin knew. Arthur had exposed the softness underneath his hard exterior, and now Merlin knew.

And lord, was it great.

Their previously rare touches turned more and more common. Soon, putting on Armour turned into lingering touches on Arthur's body, and training sessions turned into Merlin haphazardly wiping the sweat from Arthur's forehead as he leaned into the cooling touch on his skin.

Sometimes, if Arthur was feeling brave, he’d even initiate some of these touches.

He’d hook his finger with Merlin’s as they walked to the stables, running his thumb against whatever skin he could reach. He’d warm Merlin’s seemingly forever cold hands by gently pulling them into his own bigger ones. He’d walk up silently behind Merlin as he’s softly humming a song while polishing Arthur’s armour, and wrap his arms around his waist, burying his head into the crook of Merlin’s shoulder.

It was like Arthur's mind was trying to reclaim all touches lost to the years. He craved skin - Merlin's skin - on his. He craved the way Merlin's fingers ran over his muscles. He craved these moments of intimacy where he wasn't Arthur Pendragon, the prince of Camelot, and he was just Arthur.

And somehow Merlin knew of this insatiable craving of his, because he was always giving and giving and giving. Arthur never openly asked for the tender touches and the soft trails of fingertips against his stomach, but Merlin - lovely, gorgeous, beautiful Merlin - was always there to give.

The love in Merlin was overflowing, and Arthur was there to catch every last drop of it.

And as Arthur was still human (despite how hard he tried), there were times when he wept.

Arthur cried the same way he cried when he was a child - with his shoulder shaking, his eyes shut, and his hands trembling. He also used to sob with his mouth open and with his grief audible like any other child, but that had long been scolded and beaten out of him.

However, despite the habits that he brought into adulthood, the nights when he cried were no longer like the lonely nights that he suffered through as a child - There was no ache in his chest as tears ran down his cheeks. No biting the collar of his shirt as he attempted to stay quiet. No harsh words to keep him silent.

There were, in their place, gentle caresses to his forehead as Merlin smoothed back his hair, murmuring words of comfort under his breath. A warm shoulder to lean on as he cried quietly. Thumbs that wiped under his lashes and nimble fingers that caressed his cheeks.

A voice that cooed and replied, “I'm here, darling” when Arthur whispered, “Merlin, Merlin, Merlin” through his tears. Lips that pressed against his as another sob seeped out. Arms that wrapped around Arthur, and gentle hands that ran themselves comfortingly over the expanse of his back until they both fell asleep.

And what a joy it was, to have someone who wiped his tears away when he cried, and someone to hold him on cold nights as he slept. To be touched and held and loved.

What a joy Merlin was.

[thew1ldblueyonder]

Forehead kisses are for friends?

Here's the thing about Robin and Steve; their friendship is one of a kind, and to the untrained eye their tactlessness, emotional and physical closeness could signal something romantic. But Eddie knows well that's not the case.

He does notice how much of their casual interactions go against the norm of platonic: sleeping in the same bed, sleeping on each other's laps, etc., but Eddie has never cared much about the norm. He himself goes very much against it, still a one man army facing off against conformity every day, at least in the little things.

The problem comes when he has to place himself into the equation that is Robin & Steve.

It happens like this:

Eddie hosts movie night. Normally Steve does, but this time he really wanted to do it. It seemed like a good idea.

Him, Jonathan, Argyle and Steve could smoke up a couple of joints - God knows they're all desperately in need of a distraction - and maybe Nancy would join in too - and if Nancy joins, Robin does too - and what better place to do that than at his trailer? The whole place already smells slightly of weed and the neighbors don't give a shit about it.

It's also a point of pride for him. Yes, the trailer is small. But it's alright. And he wants his newfound friends to find a home there, too. He wants to feel a little useful, at least.

So, people start arriving. Nancy drives Robin up, Jonathan and Argyle come together. Argyle is already spacey. Eddie's got the movie prepped, snacks on the table, and four traumatized monster hunters restlessly huddling up on his couch, and around it. He has placed some cushions on the floor as makeshift sitting places.

It's only Steve that's missing.

Robin and him are sitting on the floor, an empty cushion reserved for him between them, and she looks as restless as he feels.

See, Eddie's been kind if permanently on edge since the upside-down bullshit. He needs these people to be in places where they're supposed to be, when they're supposed to be. The whole thing kinda made him a control freak, sue him. But when his people are where he can see them he knows they're not in trouble. He knows they aren't getting pulled into the air, bones snapping like twigs...

When the door opens and Steve steps through with an apologetic smile Eddie lets out a relieved sigh. Robin perks up, and before Steve could even finish his explanation for his tardiness - something about keys, but Eddie thinks he's lying and would bet that he's just had a bad hair day and has been spending way too much time trying to fix it - she reaches for him, like a child wanting to be picked up.

Steve goes to her immediately, grabs her hands gently, and gives her a kiss on the forehead.

Not unusual. Eddie almost chuckles at the sweet and casual display of affection, ready to be jokingly snarky, to urge Steve to sit down, finally.

Except, faced with Steve Harrington, placing two hands on the side of his head and bending down, his head quiets immediately. It happens in an instant. Steve reaches down, and kisses him between his eyebrows, redirecting his bangs with one hand. It's short, and thank god for that, because Eddie stops breathing entirely for the duration of the thing. Just a quick platonic smack of lips.

He doesn't even notice the way Eddie sucks in a breath, frozen in place. Doesn't seem to see how he stays frozen, even after Steve sits down next to him, chatting idly with Argyle, leaning back against his leg. He's entirely unaware of his emotional turmoil.

Eddie blinks, his head fuzzy. The feeling of soft lips against his forehead still lingering. He looks ahead of him, and then looks at Robin, who's already watching him. She has an expression of curiosity, that he unfortunately cannot satisfy at all.

Steve doesn't kiss anybody else on the forehead.

Eddie spends the whole night thinking about it.

Was it just because he was also on the floor? Was it a bit? Did he somehow become part of the weird symbiosis that's Robin & Steve? Is he a platonic soulmate now?

Can he not be?

Can he get another kiss? (Preferably on the mouth.)

[sentientsky]

Do you think Crowley is ever driving through a tunnel at night, carving a path through the heart of London?

And do you think he watches the lights blur past like atoms colliding in the emptiness of a space before time or reason or the fear of a steep fall?

And do you think he blinks, and in that moment—with the road rushing beneath him and the staccato flicker of light against his closed eyelids—he remembers what it felt like to hold the universe between two palms?

To set the gyroscope spinning—to become both creator and divine witness, a hand print pressed into the rough edge of a cave wall (I was here and here I shall remain)?

Do you think he remembers it all?

And do you think he aches when he opens his eyes and finds nothing but chrome and fluorescence and the endless expanse of asphalt laid out before him?

[pizzaqueen]

Just over 450 words of something. Established relationship. T. Just more fluff I guess! Been feeling kind of shaky about (my) writing so I’m just gently dipping my toe back in

Eddie’s hanging out with Jeff and Gareth and Steve at his place; Steve is checking the oil on his car and Eddie’s watching him from where he’s sitting on a fold out chair, Jeff and Gareth either side of him. There’s a cooler of beer at their feet and a warm breeze in the air.

The thing between him and Steve is still new, no longer tentative, but something Eddie had wanted—maybe needed—to keep close for a while.

But then Jeff walked in on him and Steve in a position of a comprising nature. Jeff looked like he’d just turn right around, forget he saw anything, but Gareth came stumbling in after him and, well…

They know now. That’s the point.

It’s been a few weeks since then, and Eddie hasn’t said much about it, and neither have they, but he guesses they don’t have a problem. They wouldn’t be here if they did. Eddie sighs, watching Steve’s arms flex, chest tight with warmth when he notices the smudge of grease on Steve’s cheek. He’s just so gone on Steve already. It’s so much.

And he’s watching Steve and his heart is so full and he says, “I’m gonna marry that man, one day,” without thinking.

It’s Gareth who speaks first, blurting out, “But you can’t,” over Priest playing from the boombox on the trailer step.

Jeff groans and hits Gareth in the arm.

“Ow. What?”

A look passes between them, Jeff’s brow furrowed, eyes wide as he tries to communicate silently. Eddie’s not sure Gareth gets it but he says, “Sorry?” anyway.

And it’s not like Eddie needed the reminder or it doesn’t hurt, just a little, even if he’s never been a big believer of marriage. Hell, he’s never been a believer at all. But he tips his head back and says, “Not gonna let that stop me,” heart beating as Steve finishes up, slamming the hood of the car, and comes to stand in front of him.

He kicks Eddie’s foot. “Where’s my chair?”

Eddie pats his thighs.

Steve smiles, a little flushed, but he looks between Jeff and Gareth and shakes his head.

Eddie rolls his eyes and stands, waving Steve into his chair, and getting another for himself.

And they drink beer as the sun sets, summer warmth lingering, Priest still blaring, the four of them getting talking and laughing and Eddie’s so fucking happy.

And Eddie looks at Steve thinks to himself again: I’m going to marry this man.

(And when they can get married, they do. Steve is a little surprised Eddie wants to, but Eddie’s always known it was going to happen. He just forgot to tell Steve. But it happens. Just like he knew it would.)

[navnae]

Eddie has been in the press for several years now and his relationship with Steve wasn’t known about due to Steve panicking over what his family would say if the news had gotten a hold of that information. So Eddie made sure that things went smoothly for Steve when every they went out, he’d block the paparazzi that would surround him, refuse to answer any questions that involved, and he shut down every newspaper that tried to even paint the idea that they were together. Eddie took his personal life very seriously and if Steve wasn’t ready to have their relationship public than that was what Eddie fought for. Of course Eddie never shied away from being honest about his sexuality, basically everyone in the entire world knew he wasn’t straight it was almost like a goal for him to tell everyone “no to hetero” (he even made it a shirt). Meaning that he wasn’t shocked when the rumors started when him and Steve would get touchy from time to time but he kept playing it off as them being good friends for the sake of Steve. This went on for a long time that eventually everyone came to the conclusion that they were just friends and their love language was touch, the questions stopped, the pestering stopped, the theories stopped, everything finally stopped. Eddie felt like a weight was being lifted off his shoulders he didn’t have to go through all these obstacles to protect Steve but when an interview asked him about his relationship status he wanted die right on the spot every time. He wanted nothing more than to tell everyone how much he loved Steve and how he had so many thoughts that revolved around marrying him one day, this was killing Eddie deeply. Nonetheless Eddie kept those answers to himself and only hoped that one day they could finally be a couple without hiding.

It was New Year’s Eve when Corroded Coffin got an invite to perform on tv and Eddie was pumped. Steve helped him with his outfit which made him sweat throughout the whole day since it was the biggest jacket known to man but it was freezing outside and he just had to deal with it. They were going to be the last performance of the night right before the countdown for the ball. When it was around midnight Eddie had lost his voice around this point from singing with so much passion that the entire crowd could feel his energy. It made him feel good that while he was on stage he could see Steve in the front row cheering him on, Eddie couldn’t help the butterflies he got. Soon it was time for the countdown and everyone gathered around for it. Eddie being in his own world he shouted the numbers at the top of his lungs as he watched the ball in the distance he didn’t realize that Steve had made his way onto the stage. He kept counting down til he finally said “3… 2… 1” and right when he finished counting his whole body was turned towards the opposite direction then his lips connected with Steve’s in front of everyone. The confetti started to fall as they continued to kiss in the coldest weather they could feel their lips twitching against one another’s. Eddie was still in shock by Steve doing that and apparently the crowd was too. They gave their attention to the couple then the actual New Years event all together. When Steve pulled away a big smile was on his face with tears rolling down his cheek.

“Why did you do that? This is live, your family’s going to see it.” Eddie said worriedly. His heart pounded at the thought of what Steve’s family would do to him.

“I know and I’ve thought about this long enough to say that I don’t care. You went out of your way for years to protect me and make sure that I was okay. It’s not fair to you that we can’t simply live each other because of my family.” Steve spoke softly. Eddie smiled as he brought his thumb up to Steve’s check and wiped away another tear.

“And I would’ve continued to do it if you wanted me to. You should come out on your own terms not because of how I may feel.” Eddie knew that the damage was already done but he was still trying to figure out how he could get the press to forget it.

“I know that too but this is me coming out on my own terms. Who knows I might get a call in the morning from my family saying they accept me and I might not. All I know is I’m in love with you, that’s something I couldn’t hide forever Eddie.” Steve’s voice cracked halfway as he talked. The tears just kept coming down and it broke Eddie’s heart to see him like this.

Eddie wrapped his arms around Steve tightly letting him sob against his chest. He didn’t care if all eyes were on his right now, Steve was more important than all of that. Eddie planted several kisses on the top of Steve’s head and when he did his own vision started to become blurry. Those days of him telling off everyone that said he was in a relationship with Steve flashed in his head over and over again. He hated not being able to hold Steve like this without someone trying out their nose in their business. Now Eddie could do what he always wanted to do with Steve and he wouldn’t have to cover it up anymore. He held his boyfriend close as if he was going to runaway, both of them felt free for the first time in years.

“I love you.” Eddie whispered against Steve’s hair.

“I love you too.” Steve sniffled. Eddie laughed lightly when he felt Steve shiver a little when the wind blew. They were definitely going to be sick after this.

[after-the-end-times]

omg I love this by @steddieas-shegoes, but for some reason that scene from Ted Lasso immediately popped into my head when I was reading it? Thus, this:

It's not long after Steve and Eddie finally slept together for the first time that Eddie walks into the house to Steve holding a baby, a baby with curls and big amber eyes.

And he doesn't want to assume, but it is dressed in a pink onesie, so he's gonna go ahead and say she's a girl baby. And Eddie definitely knows there's normal things to ask about a surprise baby, like what's her name or who's is she or, even, where'd she come from, but nope.

"Is- Is she mine?" he says, eyes widening and a hand drifting up to his chest.

Steve just looks at him, a bemused smile spreading across his face,

"Eddie, we had sex, like, a week ago."

"Riiiight right right, sorry, yeah bad math" Eddie says, huffing out a laugh. 'Cause yeah, it's the math that's the issue.

Steve turns to head back into the kitchen, blithely adding as he goes,

"And if memory serves, you finished on my-"

"Woooah nonono!. Steve! You can't- That's not-" Eddie says rushing after him, stopping in front of Steve and the baby.

The baby who looks up at him with giant eyes and fingers in her mouth and looks so much like SteveandEddie that Eddie's brain is still trying to work out some sort of science or magic that would explain this situation because he suddenly wants it to be-

And Steve's just looking at him with the most gentle half smile and crinkly eyes, but Eddie just shakes his head to clear his thoughts, gently covers the baby's ears, and says in the most scandalized tone he didn't even know he had in him,

"There's no reason to get into the science of it all in front of the baby, Steve!"

Steve smiles wide at that and he heads to the sink, patting Eddie on the shoulder as he goes,

"Well, why don't we get her a bottle and then we can discuss the science of it all while she naps, hm?"

[siennaditbot]

Never forget that Sethos CANONICALLY has "unforgettable green eyes".

[topsyturvy-turtely]

Love is a Bath...?

Prompt: Fall by @calaisreno

Fandom: Any or None

I wanna fall in love. I don't want it to be too fast or painful. I don't wanna fall in love feeling like I am gonna hit concrete anytime. I want to be caught by gentleness. I want to be caressed, taken care of and treated with kindness.

I want to fall in love. I want it to feel like stepping into a bath, smelling of my favourite scent, I want to feel the bubbles of excitement against my skin. I wanna breathe in the hot steam, inhale it, absorb it, feel it expanding my lungs. It becoming part of me, part of the reason why I am alive.

I want to fall in love. And even if I do get hurt, I wanna believe in my person and me that we will heal. Put effort into fixing what was broken. Work for us in a team and know we can overcome hills, mountains, glaciers... together.

And I sure as hell never wanna fall out of love ever again.

Because I did. I fell in love.

❀❁❀❁❀❁❀❁❀❁❀❁❀❁❀❀❁❀❁❀❁❀❁❀❁❀❁❀❁

tagging random people 🥰

@totallysilvergirl @lisbeth-kk @gregorovitch-adler @a-victorian-girl @booksoversleep @safedistancefrombeingsmart @popcorn-plots @jawnscoffee @helloliriels @dreamerofthemeadow

let me know if you wanna be added! 💜

[steddieasitgoes]

Steve’s maternal grandfather was a classically trained pianist. He traveled all over the world as a concert pianist before retiring around the time Steve was born. He takes a job as a church pianist and buys Steve a baby grand piano so he can teach his only grandson how to play. Steve learns how to play piano and read music before he learns how to read books.

His grandfather dies when Steve is 9, and his mom gets upset whenever she hears Steve playing, because it reminds her of her dad, who chose the piano over her most of her life. So, Steve stops playing, not wanting to upset his mom. She tried to sell the piano, but no one in Hawkins is interested, so it stays covered with a bedsheet and locked away in the former music room.

Steve picks it up again when his parents start fighting and his mom starts going on business trips with his dad. He finds himself spending long nights at the penchant, fingers dancing across the ivory keys. He’s rusty at first, but playing the piano is a lot like riding a bike — you never really forget.

He keeps his talent a secret, though. Keeps the piano locked away in the old music room when Robin and the Party is over and doesn't let them down that hallway. Likes that he has something for himself, though he does have moments where he wishes he could share his talent with his found family.

Eddie’s the first person he tells.

They’re hanging out together in Steve’s living room. Eddie’s got his acoustic slung across his lap. Fingers moving up and down the frets. His brows are furrowed, and his lip is tugged between his teeth. He’s been stuck on the same melody for days now and Steve offered up his place, hoping a change in scenary would rid him of his music block.

It hasn’t.

“Jesus H. Christ” Eddie swears, gently moving the acoustic to the side. He throws the rest of his body down on the rug.

“You’re being too hard on yourself, Ed’s. It sounds great.”

“You’re just saying that cause it’s not loud and obnoxious.”

“It is different than your usual sound,” Steve hums, gently guiding himself from the couch down to the floor next to Eddie.

“Jeff wrote a love song for this girl he’s seeing. But he's always sucked at the music part, so I said I’d give it a shot.” Eddie says, raising his arms in the air in front of his face. He starts to fiddle with the large skull ring on his finger. “I think the melody would sound better on a piano but none of us can play so, my acoustic will have to do.”

Steve's not sure why he does what he does next. Maybe it's because Eddie is right, and the song would sound better with a piano, or maybe it's because he'd move the moon and starts to make Eddie Munson smile. Whatever the case, Steve stands. Offers Eddie a hand and hoists him with him.

He starts walking down the hallway towards the room no one even knows exists. Eddie hot on his heels.

"Don't tell me you've been hiding a secret sex dungeon," Eddie teases as Steve raises to his tiptoes to grab the key hidden on the top of the door frame.

"If I had a secret sex dungeon, don't you think I'd have shown it to you by now?" Steve asks, hip-checking Eddie out of the way so he can get to the door knob.

"Fair point," Eddie says.

Steve can tell he's about to say something else, when the door clicks open. The baby grand is still covered with a white bedsheet, but it's easy to make it out. Especially for a music expert like Eddie.

"Holy shit," Eddie says, slowly moving closer to the center of the room as if he's going to startle the piano. "Is that what I think it is?"

Steve nods and begins rolling up the bedsheet exposing the beautiful black, shiny baby grand piano. He tosses the sheet aside and takes a seat at the bench. Carefully lifts the keyboard cover and pats the bench next to him. Eddie joins instantly.

"You can play?" Eddie asks as Steve's fingers start moving across the keys. He starts with something simple, the melody to "Twinkle Twinkle," before moving on to one of the formal pieces his granddad taught him. Eddie sits motionless, eyes darting between Steve's profile and his fingers dancing across the keys. When Steve stops, Eddie lets out a gasping breath. Playfully bumps his shoulder with Steve's. "You son of a bitch! You have been holding out on me!"

"Maybe a little," Steve chuckles. "But not about having a sex dungeon."

"You sure about that?" Eddie says, moving in closer. He rests his head on Steve's shoulder and angles his face so his lips are right next to Steve's ear. "I hear sex on a piano is pretty amazing."

Steve blushes, feels the butterflies fluttering in his gut. He laughs, shrugging Eddie off his shoulder. Playful. Bashful. "Come on, we've got a song to write."

Eddie looks at Steve, even more bewildered than before. This time Steve meets his gaze, takes in Eddie's woofish smile that he's trying to hide behind a strand of hair and his blown pupils.

"You really are my wildest dreams come true," Eddie moans, stealing a kiss. It's a quick but passionate. A reminder that they're not done yet. "Alright, let's get this song done so we can really break this piano in after."

[justaz]

lance who has always hidden his insecurities under grandeur and humor. a huge ego paired with an inflated sense of pride. he is someone who is confident and cocky, but he exaggerates it in response to the deep rooted belief that he is not enough, that he is ordinary at best, lackluster at worst. he grew up as the baby in a huge family which came with a lot of coddling, yes, but his achievements had been made time and time again which made them expectations rather than milestones. the first time he truly shone was when he got into the garrison, something no one in his family had done before, something to be celebrated. he worked his ass off at the garrison to be top of his class, to be a fighter pilot, to reach the stars - to be the first of his family to reach space. who could too that? no matter how long he spent studying or training, he still tested into the cargo pilot class. it wasn’t the worst but it wasn’t what he wanted. he fell short by a measly three points. it was infuriating.

lance worked his ass off even more. he wanted to be something, he wanted to be noticed, he wanted to be praised, he wanted to be celebrated. he never made it. there was one student that caught his eye though - keith kogane. a living, breathing legend. he tested at the top of their class. miles above the other students. completely untouchable. despite his reputation, his grand achievements, keith never cared. he was never in the library studying or spending his free time on the flight sims. he rarely made it to class on time. he didn’t care. yet he was the best of the best. iverson gave him a hard time but it was clear to everyone that even iverson admired him and his skill, his talent. even lance admired him. he wanted to be like him, he wanted to be him. he was rejoiced, he was celebrated, he was praised, he was admired and he didn’t even try. lance pushed harder and harder but only ended in burning himself out. he crumbled under the pressure while keith didn’t seem to notice it. lance loved him but also hated him. then he was gone. and lance was a fighter pilot. barely.

iverson, now with one less eye, loathed that. he gave lance scorn and belittlement, compared him to keith at every turn and went on and on about his failings, about how he’d never be keith, about how he didn’t deserve keith’s space in the class. lance hated iverson, lance hated keith, lance hated himself. he just had to try harder. he was more deserving of all of it than keith. he never cared, he didn’t want what he was blessed with. lance fought tooth and nail for it. he deserved it. he rose a bit in the fighter pilot class and kept fighting, iverson kept ridiculing and humiliating, keith’s name remained at the top of the boards. as the year passed, his name overtook name after name until he was below keith, three points behind. almost, almost, almost, almost…

then they were in space. kidnapped by giant, sentient, mechalions. fighting in an intergalactic war. unable to return home. the years of resentment lance held for keith came to surface in close quarters with the man and he relished in every challenge that he won and despised every challenge he lost. he worked his ass off to get better until he could rechallenge keith until he won. he wasn’t sure when their rivalry became tinged with friendship, but he didn’t hate it. he should’ve, but he didn’t. it was keith’s disregard for his own amazement that infuriated lance. he was gifted and never cared for it. he was everything lance wanted and it was like it meant nothing to him. like he would trade it all at the drop of a hat if he could. yet, keith was fun, in an odd way. awkward and funny, a little prickly around the edges but a soft, gooey marshmallow heart under it all. lance knew it. he saw keith tear up at a couple of cute babies of some species on some planet as they played.

then shiro went missing and keith was forced into the role of leader and he very clearly did not want it. again, lance felt a flicker of annoyance. the role of black paladin, the pilot of the black lion, that was something lance had wanted. not at the expense of shiro, not at the expense of anyone, but he could be leader. he could lead the paladins of voltron in the fight against the galran empire. he could be revered on every planet they freed from tyranny, his name would live on forever. no one would overshadow him. yet, now keith stood in the shadow of the black lion, his face pinched and his eyes dark. he had lost his brother twice now and was being forced into leadership, he was now the one to make all the decisions for the team of (mostly) teenagers against the empire that had terrorized the universe for over ten thousand years.

lance stomped on the flicker of annoyance and put it out as he strode forward and stood beside keith. he spoke lowly, gently. he wasn’t sure how, but the right words spilled forth. keith’s shoulders relaxed and his scowl eased to a faint frown. he stepped into his role as leader. he was still as impatient and impulsive, he was quick to anger and often blinded by it. lance was there for it all. he held keith back, became his patience and impulse control. he quelled his anger when he could and talked sense into him when keith was already fired up. in return, keith gave him trust and gave him power. to outsiders, it seemed like it always had since the birth of voltron - the black paladin, the leader, and the red paladin, the right hand. but in all actuality, it was more the black and red paladins, leaders of voltron. the final decision rested with keith, but he never made a choice without lance’s input. lance made the plans and keith approved of them. lance talked at the diplomatic meetings while keith put on a brave face and played nice for a few hours.

then shiro came back and keith stepped down. lance felt as if he had finally found his footing. lance and keith, leaders of voltron, best friends. and now keith was leaving. lance watched keith walk away as he supported hunk and his tears. lance retreated to his own room and found traces of keith in every nook and cranny. hell, the damn castle ship could be traced back to keith in lance’s mind. ever since he stepped foot in the garrison, everything was tied to keith - the school legend, top of the class, best fighter pilot in their generation, the crazy man breaking into a government facility to kidnap legend takashi shirogane, the conspiracy theorist with the odd sounds in the desert, finding the blue lion, ending up in space fighting a war, red paladin of voltron. it was all keith. yet he wasn’t here. lance loved him, but he also hated him. he wasn’t sure how many more times he’d end up feeling that same sentiment.

the team…drifted. hunk and pidge paired off while allura and shiro paired off leaving lance and coran. coran was a nice, funny, odd man that reminded lance of his father back home. coran’s crazy, kooky exterior melted away when it was just them two and lance felt the same happen with him. coran talked of altea before it all, his husband and their son. lance talked of home too, every detail he could remember from earth and his family. lance busied himself with training or helping coran around the castle. he tried with the rest of the team, but things were pretty tense and his loud, jovial nature wasn’t exactly welcome all things considered. he tried to be shiro’s second as he had been keith’s. he offered his input and his plans but they were tossed aside without a moments thought. he was belittled for sticking his nose where it didn’t belong when he tried to speak up at their meetings. he was not shiro’s second, he was keith’s piss poor replacement as he had been at the garrison. he quieted and kept to himself. he stuck to the walls with crossed arms or locked himself on the training deck for hours at a time. shiro was off, a but different but lance couldn’t put his finger on it. the way he looked at them all sometimes was eerie. his eyes were empty and void and unsettling. after being shouted at on the bridge during a meeting,

he really couldn’t keep his thoughts to himself. he thought getting it out in the open would ease the worry off his shoulders and, if it didn’t, then whoever he spoke to could laugh off his worries to properly ease his mind, help him see sense. lance told coran. coran did not laugh. he did not brush off lance’s worries. he all but confirmed them. he said how he had found shiro’s behavior odd and the shouting really sent the point home. shiro before had never yelled, not like that (bar slav but that was understandable). the rest of the team also sought lance out to share their same opinions. lance took it all in stride despite the heavy dread settling over his shoulders. in agreement, the team trailed down to the bay and sat in front of the black lion. instead of the slow, patient meditation where they would ascend into the astral plane, it felt more like they were snatched and hauled up into it. they found shiro there, the real shiro, the dead shiro. they weren’t sure who was on the ship, but it wasn’t their leader. they all remained in the astral plane as they talked over a plan.

lotor considered their line of questioning and shared the witch’s experiments while he was there and gathered that if shiro was anything, he was most likely a clone. there were other options such as shapeshifter or droid disguised as shiro but both were easily disproven as if shiro were a shapeshifter, there would’ve been moments when he tripped up and either didn’t remember something or acted too different from the shiro they knew. if shiro were a droid disguised as shiro, well…their capabilities of such a thing were lacking. the droids the galran empire had were only good for fighting and even then they were pretty lackluster. the witch had an odd fascination with life and death so the chances of shiro being one of her experiments at recreating life were incredibly high.

lance didn’t trust lotor either but he knew they needed all the aid they could get so he bit his tongue and allowed lotor to remain in close cohorts with all of them. they staged a coup and overpowered the shiro on the ship. unable to kill him, they froze him in a pod and kept him locked in the floor of the infirmary. with the loss of her spy, haggar launched an attack on voltron. tens of hundreds of galran ships warped to their position but their appearance was quickly followed by hundreds of thousands of rebel ships and military ships from those in the coalition. the blade managed to send a few ships, though at lance’s poking and prodding, kolivan relayed that keith wouldn’t be there as he hd been out of a mission for the past couple of weeks and hadn’t returned yet. heavier dread settled over lance but he had no choice then to ignore it and fight with the rest of his team against the galran attack.

with a great sense of deja vu, lance found himself locked out of the red lion. he groaned and complained to him as they didn’t have time for this but red didn’t budge. lance spoke to coran through his comms that red wouldn’t let him in and the older man appeared in the bay at frightening speed. they talked it over and red allowed coran to enter and pilot him. as coran stepped into red’s maw, black let out an ear-shattering roar. the deja vu was never ending as lance found himself rushing toward black and taking a seat at the helm. the castle ship was put on autopilot, it kept its shield up as it fired at passing galran ships whilst the rest of the team flew around in their lions taking on ship after ship. as rebel and coalition ships began to fall, the team formed voltron and took out the ships with ease.

it was odd, finally being in charge. finally being recognized. being turned to for guidance with unwavering trust. it was something he had always dreamed of, something he envied keith for, something he truly didn’t want when he finally got it. how could they look to him? how could black choose him? he was just a boy from cuba, one out of a family of seven, twelve counting his sister in law, niece and nephew, and grandma and grandpa. he was a cargo pilot who had no business being in the fighter pilot class. he became a paladin by sheer luck, luck attributed to keith kogane. even now, as black paladin, he only received that position because shiro was out of commission and keith was on a mission for the blade. the moment keith returned, the lion would return to keith and lance would go back to being his second, ignored at best, yelled at at worst. as of now, he was keith’s stand in. he just had to make it until keith returned. problems arose practically ever minute and lance tried to imagine keith and how he would respond before making a decision. he’d stand still as he took in the information, pointer finger and thumb brushing together as he thought it over, and finally respond.

he checked practically every minute of every day for a response from keith or a change in status from kolivan, but neither ever came. keith was still on a mission. he had been for weeks. lance stood on shaky legs as he led the team. he hesitated and was indecisive. he froze up when they turned to him to make a decision. he was not a leader. he wasn’t who they were looking for. they needed keith. he needed keith. lance would spend his time in the bridge, a line ringing endlessly in hopes of keith finally picking up, as he looked over the battle plans and made tweaks and adjustments as he saw fit. allura joined him once and merely watched as he worked. she chuckled to herself suddenly and mentioned how with the clone as their leader, she had forgotten what it was like with keith as their leader. she had forgotten that lance was once their strategist, that he had been part of the duo that made all the decisions for the team.

coran also joined him after allura left. he let lance ramble aloud about the plans until he ran into an issue he couldn’t resolve quite yet. he stood still as he rubbed his thumb and pointer finger together. coran smiled and exhaled sharply. he said softly how he had not seen lance “like this” in quite some time. at lance’s questioning look, coran explained how lance had been so confident and sure of himself when he led with keith. under the clone’s leadership, lance had been shaken and wasn’t sure of himself anymore. the lance of the past few months was quiet and hesitant, unsure and unsteady, whilst the lance who led with keith was confident and self-assured. he made these decisions for the team and didn’t second guess himself once. yes, he thought over his plans from every angle to ensure the team was as safe as could be, but he never doubted himself. coran supposed it was keith’s unwavering faith, loyalty, and trust in lance. keith followed lance’s decisions just as much as the team followed keith’s.

lance watched coran leave after ruffling his hair and slowly turned back to the messy draft of a battle plan. lance’s gaze shifted over to his stilled hand where he had been rubbing his thumb and pointer together since running into the issue. he had been doing the same motion since becoming black paladin. it was oddly familiar. he swore he had seen…keith do it. it was keith’s unique tick that he did when stressed or emotional and trying to compose himself. lance had stolen it. allura and coran’s words echoed in his mind as he thought back to the short period of time with keith as black paladin. lance had felt like he finally found his footing there. he felt seen and heard and appreciated as he and keith led the team together. keith’s trust in his decisions, lance’s ability to match each of keith’s weaknesses to balance the team. here lance was now, leading the team all on his own, and he felt his own weaknesses exposed to the elements at the loss of his samurai.

well, the whole time he had been thinking what would keith do. he had been leading like he still had keith. perhaps that was the problem. he was leading like half of a whole rather than black paladin. lance looked up at the trilling line on the screen of the bridge. keith was on a mission. he was not on the ship. it was lance and his team. lance reached up and ended the ringing line. he had to lead like it. lance watched lotor closely for days but still couldn’t find any issue with him. weeks passed and things sailed smoother than before. lance still froze up in meetings and hesitated before making big decisions, but he stopped looking to his side for keith’s input. just as they fell into the new normal, keith returned. he flew into the castleship with a teleporting black and blue wolf, a tall galran woman that looked suspiciously like him, and (most peculiar) an altean. as well as a growth spurt that came with bulging muscles. not that that was important. what was important was that keith finally gave lance the reason why lotor was so hard to trust.

in the hours waiting for lotor and allura to return, lance lead keith to the infirmary to see the still clone body and retold everything that had happened while he was gone. keith’s face cycled through a few emotions but he quickly forced them back behind a mask of indifference and he nodded. the two of the returned to the bridge to wait for lotor to return to confront him. allura was heartbroken and enraged at the news and had taken to fighting lotor herself. outnumbered and surrounded, lotor surrendered and allowed himself to be taken to the dungeons of the castle. it was unnerving that the castle had dungeons and lance never knew despite his wanderings over the years, but he let it go. lotor was taken into the belly of the castle in chains while keith mourned his brother once more. maybe it was the news of her people that had survived only to be farmed for experiments that gave her the idea, but allura thought of a way to bring shiro, their shiro, back.

the clone’s body was taken down to the bay where allura pressed her hands to the black lion. she began to glow and she walked toward the limp body and placed her hands to it’s chest and head. the light around her body flowed down her arms and hands and into the body on the table. after a few seconds, the body took a breath and cracked open it’s eyes. lively eyes. loving, kind, and caring eyes. shiro’s eyes. shiro was put back in the infirmary as he got used to being alive again. coran stepped back from the red lion and turned the mantle back over to lance without complaint. lance did the same with the black lion to keith. instead of it feeling bitter, lance felt more at peace. being a nobody was horrible, unbearable, but being the somebody that everyone turned to for help and guidance was not very fun either. he was content to be second in command, right hand man, three points behind keith. only, keith took back the black lion but didn’t let lance fall back into the shadows. they fell back into the same dynamic they had before, two halves of one whole, two leaders that complimented each other, that met one another’s weakness with their strengths, that balanced each other, that made a damn good team.