#it's funny looking back seeing it yanno but that shit was fucking insane when it happened

[gonzodangerfeels]

You want a real rush?

Be sitting on the throne dropping a deuce and hear a fucking angry 180 lb bull mastiff attacking a puppy that weighs less than 20 pounds

Underwear draped around my ankles I get up and hop twice to get out of the bathroom, standing I and jumping a three foot dog gate into the kitchen, quick hops across the kitchen; another jump over a wooden dog gate and two hops to tackle a 180 lb dog and clamp that mother fucker in a head lock with one leg trapped keeping my head so tight against his lower neck I was clear of his angry fat head and mouth(this was a very large mother fucking dog) and pulled the behemoth off the puppy while putting my hand out to keep the puppy away from the mouth.

And then I am sitting there with my dick hanging out, an ass in need of wiping, my underwear at this point twisted around my ankles and a huge angry dog in my clutches.

I am like, "KNOCK THAT SHIT OFF MOTHER FUCKER OR I WILL KILL YOU"

And my large dog returned to a normal state of temperament. I was able to finish taking a shit with an adrenaline dump.

Oh and I did get to wipe my ass eventually.

[hiilikeanimelol]

whilst baked the other day I started wondering what the OM! characters would be like when stoned so I present crack headcanons for them zooted:

Lucifer:

Diavolo and Barbatos are his dealers, on occasion mammon is

Only smokes with Diavolo

Once confiscated a spliff off mammon and smoked it so 'mammon couldn't just take it back'

will dissociate like nobody's business

9/10 times he ends up in a staring competition with Diavolo

doesn't get munchies too bad but has insane coffee cravings

smoking at the castle always ends up with Diavolo and Lucifer sat on the kitchen top so Diavolo can eat to his hearts content and Lucifer can replace his whole body with coffee

him and Diavolo will smoke once a month at the castle but if diavolo sees that lucifer is stressed between them he'll just send him a photo of a spliff captioned with '?'

he can pass off being sober quite well but his eyes will look like plates

Mumbles random words that he thinks sound funny

Mammon:

fuck knows who he gets it from, on occasion lucifer

absolute stoner

doesn't care who sees him or joins him

has been known to stand in the garden at HoL absolutely blazed and just laugh

until lucifer confiscated the zoot and mysteriously then stayed the night at Diavolos castle

MUNCHIES! could battle beels appetite

loves eating dry food and making his dry mouth worse - he weirdly likes the feeling (same tho)

if he sees any of his brothers he will just pat them on the head repeatedly

can actually do his school work quite well when he's zooted, spelling may need checking but the facts are there

lucifer will OCCASIONALLY give him a spliff if he knows he has school work he's been struggling to get on with

will sit with him the whole time he's working to make sure he doesn't get off track

Leviathan:

makes and eats edibles with asmo

rarely smokes it but will have an edible if he needs to be in RAD face to face

doesn't eat it to get high, mainly just to calm his anxiety

makes anime recipes but 💫spicy💫

Once convinced asmo to get high with him and watch cartoons

giggle central, even when it wasn't funny they'd just burst into fit's of laughter over the fact that they're watching cartoons

is surprisingly confident when high, still insecure but confident for his standards

accidentally got beel high and they ended up asleep in the garden

actually drinks water when high as he isn't a fan of sand mouth

if you see him in RAD he will have red eyes and at least 3 bottles of water

Satan:

grows his own after reading that it can be good for controlling emotions

smokes little and often, yanno those devices where u can get like 2 puffs and that's it? ye he has one of those full on him at all time

going to rage and kill someone at RAD? sneak round the back of the building instead and smoke

there's 2 types of high satan; laid back and gets on with his life or sit and gossip with asmo

people tend to be a bit sassier with him if they're aware he's high as they know he's just chill but if u guess wrong you're a dead demon

some random demon pushed him over in the corridor by accident and Satan just stood up and laughed and said 'how'd I get down here'

the demon is still scared he will find them and kill them eventhough it was at least a thousand years ago

if MC smokes he will offer to smoke with you when you first arrive to calm your nerves

he knows how it feels to be the outlier

sometimes forgets how to read properly when high and has invested in audiobooks for when this happens

Asmo:

Satan's his dealer but will occasionally buy off other demons on a night out, especially if he's with solomon

will smoke it once in a millenia if he needs to get high quick but prefers edibles as they're better for you and more discrete

giggley little shit

it's a common occurrence when he brings someone back to HoL that they've eaten an edible on the way there before they do the nasty

posts pictures of his edibles on devilgram pretending they're normal baked goods

luke once commented saying he wanted to try asmos baking and asmo had to made him a special 'non 💫spicy💫' brownie just for him

beel will stare at asmos baking and beg him to make him a normal batch, if asmo doesn't he will inhale the whole batch and still be sober

asmo now has to make 2 batches when making edibles, ones with weed and ones without for beel and luke

will split them with Solomon when they're together and both just cuddle up and watch crap romance films to take the piss out of them

will say 'this edible ain't shit' and then proceed to laugh at walls because they look funny

Beel:

never smokes on his own but if a brother invites him for a smoke he will say yes depending on his mood

cannot get high off edibles

doesn't get munchies as his metabolism is through the roof already

does not matter who he's smoking with he will end up sitting them on his knee and cuddling them and just chatting

can be a depressed high so make sure no one mentions lilith or he will cry through the whole thing

brings plenty of snacks for whoever he is smoking with and also brings belphie

will get high with belphie and they will sit and talk about the brothers and MC for hours on end

if he's been smoking with belphie you'll know as you'll find them asleep on the sofa in the common room the next morning

his eyes go so red and scrunched up so fast, it's a miracle he can see

very relaxed when high and will talk like there's no tomorrow

Belphie:

grows his own stash in the attic

often gets invited to smoke or eat but falls asleep before he gets there

May be the funniest of them all when high, cracks jokes every minute and will have everyone in stitches

becomes a massive extrovert and can get quite giddy whilst high

when the high has gone he will sleep for a minimum of 15 hours to recharge

if he needs to stay awake for education purposes he will scran an edible with beel and both will work really well until belphie misspells a word and falls over laughing

which then sends beel into fits of hysteria because why is belphie lying on the floor laughing

has been known to eat an edible, fall asleep before it kicks in and then wake up absolutely blazed

the brothers will wake up to hear beel and belphie in the kitchen eating everything in sight to fix their munchies

doesn't always have bud on him but always has papers and roaches

Diavolo:

saw it in some sort of media and asked Barbatos to get him and Lucifer some, had no clue how to roll or anything so sat outside whilst Barbados grinded it up and rolled it

when lucifer shows up he's suprised diavolo knew what to do with it until he sees Barbatos give diavolo the grinder back

takes a massive hit and almost chokes to death, barbatos tells him to take several small hits and then diavolo just sits there like 👀 as lucifer takes it and has some

when they start to make a decent dent in it diavolo offers it to barbatos

'it wouldn't be fitting for your butler to share it young lord' 'I don't care its good stuff and I want you to have some'

cue the puppy eyes from diavolo and lucifer trying to hide giggles as barbatos just stares at this spliff

'young master if you promise to never tell anyone that I took part with you then I'll take part'

he manages to convince barbatos to sit on the bench with them as they pass it back and forth

diavolo ends up getting a bit emotional and wraps his arms around the demons on his side and thanks them for joining him

bursts into tears when they both silently lean into him

barbatos:

this man had more than his fair share of spliffs in his youth

had given it up when he started working for Diavolo but when Diavolo has made decent progress he will ask if he wants a joint for him and lucifer

he will never suggest that he joins but after the first time it becomes a common thing for one of them to just hand it to him

he will only partake if he knows that he won't be called to any sort of meeting afterwards

one time lucifer couldn't make it to his and diavolos monthly smoke and after seeing how upset diavolo was barbatos proposed that he would do it with diavolo

cue Diavolo and Barbatos smoking around the back of the castle and then going to make food as they're both dying from munchies

diavolo is quite shockingly bad at cooking but instead of barbatos getting annoyed as usual he just laughs

both end up in Diavolos bedroom snacking and talking about how well the exchange programme is going

they both wake up on a sofa in Diavolos room and whilst barbatos is profusely apologising for his actions diavolo just smiles and thanks barbatos for being comfortable enough to show him a different side of himself

from their prior agreement it's never brought up again but if barbatos notices that diavolo seems upset he'll bring up 'the one time they got zooted, ate a week's worth of food from the kitchen and fell asleep leant on eachother' it never fails to send diavolo into laughter so agressive that he hurts his face. and eventhough barbatos swears he's wrong diavolo is sure he can see a genuine smile on barbatos' face every time he brings it up

Solomon:

oh you know this shady mf knows every dealer

within 5 minutes of anyone mentioning wanting a spliff he's already clocked 5 dealers in the area

smoked it ONCE at purgatory Hall and Simeon almost killed him because we was worried luke would see

while smoking weed isn't a sin in moderation he doesn't want luke seeing it

tends to pull up to the HoL and smoke with asmo while he eats an edible he's been storing for these occasions

gets scarily giggly to the point that he can't form sentences

always has to crash in asmos room as he doesn't want simeon catching him in this state

doesn't get munchies and denies having a dry mouth but it's obvious he does from they way he's drinking water like his life depends on it

will eat one of asmos edibles at purgatory Hall so simeon doesn't know but prefers smoking it

Once fell into asmos bathtub whilst high and asmo just turned the water on, both ended up stripping off and seeing who could make the best bubble beard

Simeon:

is fully aware that he could do it and it not be seen as impure but doesn't want to influence luke

luke was called back to the celestial realm for a week and he just straight up messaged asmo asking for an edible

Solomon brought it back for him and practically ran to simeons rook screaming that he was a hypocrite

eventhough Solomon was clearly on another planet he still sat with simeon the whole time to make sure he was ok

'I don't feel any different' 'diavolo style hysteria'

ends up sitting with Solomon in the gardens and watching the stars

makes Solomon promise that as long as he doesn't do it excessively he can smoke at purgatory Hall but he has to he the one to explain what it is to luke

wanted to try smoking it to see if it felt different but as he was getting lit with Solomon luke showed up early

they both just stared at the child as he stood there in awe because why in the name of Michael is simeon smoking cannabis

has to admit to luke that a lot of angels do it socially and accidentally let's it slip that he's seen Michael blazed

[grayintogreen]

How do you think Lucien's upbringing was for him to give that evil monologue? I'm specially curious about the "Someone needed to be the parent. When children have been acting out, well, making a mess of their potential, for this long even, a responsible caretaker must show discipline, enact punishment, and take the reins with force". Do you think Lucien was a gifted child who grew up to be the average adult or something like that?

This is actually funny, because Lucien gives that huge ass speech after he EXPLICITLY TOLD THE M9 HE DIDN'T HAVE FAMILY, so like LUCIEN. YOU FUCKING ORPHAN. WHAT DO YOU KNOW.

But I'm going to tell you!

Here's the thing- Lucien gives off two very strong vibes to me, and these two things make up the entire crux of his personality as I, personally see it.

1. Massively self-sufficient.

2. Gifted child who was never challenged properly.

Lucien very much gives off the Dad Friend Vibe of the Tombtakers in like the worst possible way. Like not the NICE Dad Friend. The Dad Friend who has a belt and will use it on you. You know... The, uh... Cult Leader Vibe. What is a cult leader but the worst kind of dad friend. Yikes. Anyway.

So I think most of his speech about caretakers are specific to how HE has viewed wrangling the Tombtakers for however many years he's been doing it, because as someone who has been massively self-sufficient he has had to be his own parent and thus feels he is qualified to be the parent to others, even if he's being a parent to other children. I don't think that came from a place of experience, because I feel like if an adult beat that into him, he would have marginally different issues. Like that whole spiel doesn't sound like it comes from a place of emotional pain, so much as it's just him listing facts about what he thinks parents are supposed to do. It's a very by the book, intellectual response, like someone who has taught himself how to behave like that because It Is Logical And Right. Like in comparison, Lucien, in that same speech, reacts deeply emotionally to one single thing- the way he says "and they chose ME to be their herald" is one of the single most choked up line deliveries he ever gives. THAT is where his emotional pain comes from. He didn't feel special and the Somnovem made him feel special, but WE WILL GET TO THAT. Stick a pin in that.

Honestly, it sounds like Lucien seems to consider ANYONE who isn't him a child, despite the fact that he is CANONLY IN HIS MID-TWENTIES. He talks down to literally every single person he meets. He acts like he walks into rooms, looks at everyone assembled, and immediately is like "wow which of you fucks are wasting your potential in here, have you tried not doing that." I think some of this is just that he has gone so far beyond "enlightenment" that everyone is Lesser than he is, but I also firmly believe he was just Like That. If he sees people who are useful to him, then of course his "parental" nature (re: his manipulative streak) is going to want to try and nurture that potential. I don't even think he actively considers it being manipulative. He thinks he's doing people a favor.

The way he talks about the Somnovem to Cree about how he wanted to save them as they saved him ultimately boils down to this: he believed the Somnovem couldn't function without his intervention and he was the only person who had the skill and imagination to direct them the way they needed to go. And I think he's thought that about A LOT of people over the years. It's not malicious to him. It's not cruel- even if what he does to get obedience probably is. It's for their own good. Again- yikes. He's a fucked up person, y'all.

Now the gifted kid thing gets into some "oh god are you projecting on this villain chris" shit, because I am a former, massively understimulated gifted kid who burned out in high school because I was bored too often and spent more time daydreaming than I did paying attention.

Guess what Lucien's calling card is? Oh right. He's a dreamer.

That's Lucien. Lucien is a gifted kid who had NOWHERE to put his gifts. He's gifted in a town where half the population can't even read, so of course he developed a massive complex about being the smartest in the room, the only TRUE adult, even when he was, yanno a KID.

See when I was in elementary school, I was just soooo smart. I was reading HIGH SCHOOL level books for FUN and ooooooh so cool. Yeah, I'm not even bragging about it. Every gifted kid I have ever met has this same story, and I can be flippant about it because I know where it goes. You get into high school and your brain hits a goddamn brick wall and you get anxiety because you're not the most special anymore. Oh look! There's that pin I put there. I told you we'd circle back to that.

For Lucien, high school was probably the Orders. The Orders are an INTELLIGENCE-BASED organization, meaning for the first time in his life, Lucien isn't the smartest person in the room, because everyone is smart, so he no longer has that advantage he once had and he's no longer special. That is DEVASTATING to deal with, and because Lucien already had a massive superiority complex, instead of burning out and getting passing grades and ultimately resigning himself to a mediocre life of Blood Huntering, he went "no it is the ORDERS who are wrong" and fucked off with his posse.

Which meant that the FIRST THING that made him feel special and validated his existence, he went whole ham on, and then the minute it wasn't what he thought it was, he switched gears and decided "no, I AM special. You just need a little but of parental guidance, and we'll do this properly."

tl;dr: Lucien is 100% what you get when a gifted kid goes absolutely balls to the wall insane. As a former gifted kid, can confirm that I might have sold my soul to a bunch of eldritch sugar daddies if they validated me enough too. I won't lie.

[chyuans]

          hello , hello  !   first of all ,  i’m super excited to be here even if i’m like 10 hrs LATE  ( gmt timezone things )  i’m noe ,  a gay  they / them at the age of 19 ,  and this privileged lil disappointment of a jock boy is gonna be filling the position of kong_01 . despite the rumours ?  yuanjun’s actually not nearly as bad as some of the people he’ll be meeting here >:)  but you’ll get to know more about that below  !  if you’d like to plot just light up that HEART , or add me on disc*rd which i’ll give out in im’s , where i’m infinitely faster .  if i’m not gaming .  no tw’s under the cut  .

* backstory. > many people know of yuanjun, but few people truly know him. he's the famous kong families’ son, heir to the kong legacy, now forward position for south korea men’s national hockey team - which brought forth a ton of international fame from back home and amongst hockey lovers worldwide. while his talent is undeniable, he is long overshadowed by his families’ accomplishments, forever reminded that he’d never be the perfect son they’d hoped for, and no one ever lets him forget it.

> being the child of business tycoons who’s art business seemed to never be on the decline, tended to lend itself to an unconventional, pretty lonely childhood. 

> although jun no longer wants to dabble in the stupid shit he probably did as a teen, and escape from their home in a childish fit of rage and make the lives of the various nannies that tended to him while his parents were off being great hell, he still wonders sometimes whether this profession is what he would’ve wanted if he’d just not wanted to spite his parents. he loves hockey - that fact is undeniable. he thanks the nanny who took him there once out of necessity to stop his whining, and he fell in love with it almost instantly. but he also questions whether he gravitated to it because it was something he could throw himself into wholeheartedly to fill a void.

> he's very open to different types of people, and after being scouted at 19 and having a massive shift both in culture and identity as he then begun to travel worldwide, he’s a tiny bit more wordly now than he was back then. he's much more concerned about who you are underneath than superficial appearances, which means developing relationships are few and far between, because a lot of people do approach him because of his fame/fortune. he's unjudgemental to the point where his friends worry about his naivety and how easily he trusts people, but he's absolutely not dumb, just very well versed on telling good people from the bad.

> jun may even come across as naïve, but he's very aware of that perception is nearly important as reality. he's not extroverted in a way that demands conversation, but he knows how to talk to anyone from any background even if its just to maintain pleasantries. after competing in various competitions and versing players from canada to japan, he's become much more sharp and ambitious, a guy who very rarely lets distractions take their course. perhaps it’s with this that his family loathe his choices all the more, with his appetite, he was born with the skills required to run a business - pity he never took to anything of the creative sort.  

> working in a fast, stressful, highly coveted job such as pro-sports is a full time job and then some; jun doesn't spend much time not working on it. outside of his schedule, he likes bettering his stamina at the gym and eating healthy. he likes being surrounded by authentic people or nobody at all. he’s not one for trying new things and having new experiences due to time management, tending to stick to a schedule.

> he gets a lot of bad press though, which is beginning to weigh a little heavy on him. doubly now the murder has people talking. from being accused of performance-enhancing pills, various personality scandals, to being linked with ‘dating’ (see: ruining the image of) idols and chaebol’s alike. right now, he’s currently battling a lot of unwanted publicity because of a misunderstood interaction online against a wealthy sweetheart that went sour. 

> while jun might be generally unsympathetic and analytical when it comes to developing relationships with people that’ll last long-term, he's a bleeding heart when it comes to kids who may have experienced the same lonely upbringing as he did, without the financial gains. right now he spends sunday’s teaching a bunch of local foster home kids how to skate, and is trying to fund a couple of sports scholarships for those who show promise under a fake name, just generally being a good ‘ole guy.

> his family do not approve of his job, ofc. in fact neither of his parents have ever attended any of his matches to this day, and are only on semi-decent terms with him because jun begrudgingly is still tied by name to the business and shows his face at events for all of 30 minutes until he physically can no longer maintain pleasantries. his celebrity image perhaps is one thing they can manipulate, and even then, jun could get into scandals galore and still be doing his job. good press, bad press, it has the kong’s family name at the forefront of peoples’ minds, which always brings forth revenue.  

> pros: could be a lot worse considering his upbringing, collected, and level-headed most of the time. wicked good at sports, and keeps a cool head in a tough situation. ambitious, curious, a little reckless. eager to prove himself, rich? and very endeared to people/places he finds fascinating. which are many. knows where the good, authentic chinese cuisine is. hardworking and very interested in the idea of Progress.

> cons: the most private person alive, will not divulge any palatable information about himself or his feelings. devil's advocate always. will put himself and others at an arm’s length the second he feels (disgusted noises) e-emotions (love, namely). gets bored easily. paranoid, leads with the head more than the heart. friends > > > family. a little self-involved, never fucking sleeps - will be that neighbour you can hear padding around above your apartment at 3.05 am like it’s mid-day, aaaaand Loves Winning Above All Else

* personality & relationships.

> like many others, jun has his fair share of surface-level friends. he’s quick to be interested in people, to get to know them better, but it's difficult for him to get closer than that after a childhood of being picked up and dropped by those who looked over him - which kinda has left him with abandonment issues.

> he’s a curator of neat things that aren’t too overtly complex, and that includes friendships. so if you have something unusual about you, whether it's a talent or a way of thinking, he would be inclined to get to know you better. also, he has a lot of leverage with his job. being friends with a sports star slash million dollar trust fund baby who can get you free shit never hurts, just don’t befriend him for the perks, yanno?

> jun is very dedicated to his vision of things, and can sometimes be very obstinate in the way he a) wants them to be done b) doesn't accept other options, think steve jobs. he's very mercurial and can be nice one minute but isn't afraid to switch to hardass boss to get things done and did.  > he is insanely competitive and his strive is drawn out by always wanting to be on top. truly first child material. that's the kind of guy he is, with standards that do not reflect his passive side too well, which sometimes can get him into some “personality” scandals. he is driven, motivated, always looking for ways to be winning.

> i'm sure someone is bound to hate him, he’s probably got a few accounts online dedicated to a steady stream of shit-talking, given his cutthroat status or holding many hockey cups.

> jun doesn’t think too much about his sexuality - he'd probably best be labelled as pan, but leans towards those who identify as women? because of his current placement in a workspace, and with a cultural identity, that both don’t often lend themselves to lgbtq+ rights, i doubt he’d ever make that public.

> he works amongst some of the fittest people in the world, he knows how to appreciate beautiful bodies, but he's not about to discriminate. he's tragically a committaphobe and isn't interested in anything long-term right now, although i think it'd be funny if someone tried. he's very open for flings and one-night stands and even a friends with benefits sort of set up. 

* wc’s.  >  bring me his baby bro and sis. i command u. i have many thoughts  >  somebody who maybe gets in on his foster-kid situation? idk maybe they have a perception of jun being what he is in the articles they read of him, but they see him and are like <3_<3 he actually real Nice huh. i see this being romantic but it could bloom a really nice, wholesome friendship too. >  enemies. not gonna lie, he doesn’t vibe with rich kids w / a stick up their ass, especially since a lot of the people he works with aren’t from exorbitant families. people who loathe him for declining to take over his families’ business? like the boy can’t even name more than 3 artists off of the top of his head?   > fwb except neither of them know what “just friends” mean.  > i would love if jun had a confidante. a best friend, a partner in crime, a total bromance 'cause i can never get enough of those. whatever label you ‘wanna put on it. wiping up each other’s messes. maybe a Betrayal in the works  > again, gonna be a wc, but i would love a “rival” of jun's on a similar level (or bigger)  that’s entirely fabricated based off of trashy articles or a misunderstood interaction online. bonus points if they’re an absolute sweetheart, well loved by most people, and generally the antithesis of jun with his multiple drug/personality rumours, which in contrast, make him seem like the bad guy. 

> party buddy. this guy hasn’t touched alcohol/cigarettes/any other stimulants since he was underage and wanted to rebel. the word “relax” does not exist in his vocabulary. Help

[yumotohakone]

Haunted House Hang-up (Voltron-SS) (Klance fic)

My @voltron-ss gift for Nicole!! (@nsart ) I hope you like it!! This monster of a fic is like,,,,,12k words somehow wtf 

Read it on Ao3 here!! (please read it on Ao3; my italics don’t paste over right onto tumblr–the fic is the same but I just feel like it’s missing something w/o the emphasis,,,and it’s much, much too long to go through to put them all back)

Summary: Keith runs a paranormal YouTube channel with his friend Pidge.  Pidge is friends with Hunk, who is friends with Lance, who is very very haunted. And also very, very pretty.

Warnings: Some violence, blood/injury, mentions of death, horror elements

“Shit, shit, shit!” Keith hissed under his breath. He cringed when he heard the equipment clang noisily from where it had been thrown haphazardly back into the bag. He yanked open the drivers’ side door and barely had time to chuck his luggage into the back before Pidge was clambering into the seat next to him and screaming.

“Drive! Drive!” Pidge gasped, glasses skewed on their face.

“I thought you said the place was abandoned?” Keith yelled, foot slamming down on the pedal. The strain on the old, beaten-up truck was not lost on him, and he gave a silent apology to the well-loved car.

“It was!” Pidge said back, their face bright red. “They hadn’t been back there for at least a decade! How was I supposed to know they would take their cute little anniversary vacation at their shitty, rotting cabin?”

Keith groaned, heart still drumming with adrenaline.

“Go check the equipment,” Keith said, exhausted. “It got a little rough back there.”

“Keith, I swear to god if you broke anything I–”

“It wouldn’t be my fault! Did you want me to get shot by an 80 year old lesbian couple??”

“I mean.”

“Pidge!”

“C’mon dude! It would be so funny!” Pidge climbed into the backseat to check the equipment.

“We didn’t get any data from that, so unless we can find a new hotspot in like, two days, we’re not gonna have anything for the channel.”

Keith and Pidge ran a YouTube channel together called Paranormal_InfoDump, where they went to supernatural hotspots for evidence on paranormal activity. That, or they posted unedited, hour-long rants of them infodumping about their favorite cryptids. The channel was moderately popular, kinda, at least among the supernatural niches of the internet.

Their current attempt at a video was in an old cabin that was rumored to be haunted by some triplets from the 18th century. The legend went that they were killed in a freak horseriding accident and their father, who they were riding with, just hid their bodies instead of telling anyone the truth. So they were pissed at him. And now they were ghosts.

“We can just edit a blooper reel, or like, make it a vlog.”

“But I hate vlogs,” Keith grimaced, “Whatever. We can go back to the cabin later. What’s the next spot on our list?”

The car pulled up into the parking lot of IHOP, where the duo waltzed in for some pancakes. As usual, Matt glared at them when he had to serve them because they always went to IHOP for the explicit purpose of bugging him.

“Y’all gonna get into sugar comas.” Matt grumbled, ruffling Pidge’s hair when he approached. He didn’t even have to take their orders–they always got the same thing. Double-blueberry pancakes for Keith, and french toast for Pidge. Neither of them got sides, because sides were for posers. So were drinks, but that was where they disagreed, so Pidge would just order Sprite and Keith just ate his meals without drinking anything which Pidge makes fun of him for sometimes. It was all good though because Keith would just make fun of them back for the way their feet couldn’t touch the ground in the chair even though they were almost 17. But whenever he did, they would always clap back with–

“Yeah, well you’re 19 and you still don’t know how to swim even though you grew up in Florida.”

And then Keith would reply–

“Is it really ‘growing up’ in Florida when I was only there from ages 13 to 18?”

And then the topic would change.

“Okay, so the next place we should hit up should definitely be something big,” Pidge said through a bite of french toast, “Like, real big. Like…St. Zarkon’s Estate big…”

“Pidge…” Keith drawled, “You know we can’t. That place is too much for us. You remember what Allura said, right?”

“Yeah, but we both know you’re dying to take up the challenge–no pun intended.”

Keith sighed, knowing Pidge was right. St. Zarkon’s was the oldest building in town–a huge mansion that dated back centuries and belonged to an insanely rich family that got their fortune from some seriously shady means. There were rumors that the family performed fucked up medical experiments in the basement, and that they were teamed up with the orphanage/hospital/asylum/whatever place the source said, because the story changed all the time. Either way, that place was notorious. And also illegal to get into because of “safety regulations”–but Keith and Pidge knew it was really closed off because of the rumors.

Anyways–Allura was a psychic. They met her through Craigslist and went to her before every haunt they hit up for a consultation. That day, she told them she sensed more figures in the home than what was predicted, and that they should be aware of the color purple. Of course, they ended up ignoring the purple rocking chair on the porch that wasn’t there the week before when they scoped out the place.

When they asked her about St. Zarkon’s a few months back, she just gave them a look and asked them if they really wanted to go to a place that looked like it was gonna fall over with the next breeze. She said she foresaw the feeling of distress and injury.

Then Pidge asked:

“But do we die?”

To which Allura sighed and responded:

“No.”

They had their minds set, but then Allura told them if she heard of them going to St. Zarkon’s she would start charging them for consultations again.

“Pidge, why are you bringing this up now?” Keith said, cutting up his pancakes into little triangles.

“Ok, so I have this friend–”

“I thought me and Keith were your only friends?” Matt interrupted, refilling Pidge’s Sprite.

“You’re my brother so you don’t count,” Pidge said, “but anyways I have another friend that I met in Robotics club. He’s super cool. But the reason I bring him up is because he has another friend who is apparently extremely sensitive to ghosts. Like. They’re just somehow magnetically attracted to this other friend, and they have been since forever.”

“What does that mean for us, exactly?” Keith said, trying to catch on.

“We bring a ghost magnet to a ghost hotspot–guaranteed ghosts! Ergo: guaranteed results and proof!” Pidge chugged some Sprite and burped obnoxiously after, which made Matt cringe from where he was on the other side of the restaurant. “According to Hunk, his friend is so surrounded by ghosts that weird supernatural stuff is just kinda normal for ‘em .”

“I see what you mean,” Keith said, thinking, “How do we know it’s true though? We’ve gotten lots of bullshit stories before.”

“I haven’t asked yet, but we could probably get Hunk’s friend up for some testing. We could sneak it in with our research system, yanno?”

Keith and Pidge, before any haunt, always did extensive research to make sure they were prepared. Keith thought it over. Since they were already interested in the Estate, they didn’t have to do so much research on it, and could probably dedicate some time to running a few tests.

“Plus we could test out some new gear me and Hunk were designing,” Pidge started flapping their hands at the wrists excitedly. Pidge had designed and built all the gear themselves. “It’s so cool having another brain to talk things out with in the building process! Hunk’s an engineering major and also a cook so his mind works differently than mine and he has some really cool ideas!! He’s so fun to work with.”

“That sounds awesome.” Keith finished his pancakes. “Do you know a lot about the friend? Do you think they’d say yes?”

“I mean, I’ve already got Hunk pretty involved, so I think he’d be able to talk his friend into it. We’ve got another Robotics Club meeting in two days so I can spring the question then.”

The two finished up their food, but not before demanding Matt bring them kiddie menus and crayons, which he was lawfully obligated to do seeing as he was on the clock.

It wasn’t until four days later that Keith was woken up from his blissful sleep by the obnoxious ringtone Pidge set for themselves.

“Pidge what the fuck. It’s 7AM no human should be awake at this hour. Why are you calling me and why can’t this wait until when I get up at 11?”

…Is what Keith meant to say when he picked up the phone, but between his general grogginess and the pillow shoved over his face it came out more like: “Hnnurrrghhhh,” which, thankfully, Pidge understood.

“Get your gay ass up, Keith and get over to the cafe in twenty. Hunk and his friend will meet us there.”

Keith groaned, willing himself to sit up. He knew if he wasn’t over there Pidge would end up breaking in through his broken bathroom window again. Keith threw on some sweatpants and a muscle-tee and lazily tugged his hair into a ponytail. It was too early to put effort into his appearance, and besides, it’s not like Keith really cared about what Pidge and their new nerd friends would think about his outfit. His clothes had nothing to do with anything.

Keith skipped breakfast, knowing he could just get something at the cafe. “The cafe” was just the simple name most people gave to the one cafe in the area that didn’t have a green mermaid plastered on the front. It was mostly due to that idyllic “cafe atmosphere”. Somehow, even in the middle of spring, that place always made you feel like it was the dead of fall. Not just fall, but autumn. It was nice. Keith liked it there.

The walk to the cafe was a short one. The old metal bell gave a cheerful ring when Keith opened the door. The sunlight streamed in through the faux stained-glass windows and bathed the whole cafe in a soft, orangey-yellow light. He saw Pidge sitting at their usual booth in the corner of the cafe, looking absolutely miniscule from where they sat across from a broad-shouldered, barrel-chested man also at the table. Keith gave him an appreciative once-over. Not Keith’s usual type, but the man had thick, well-built arms and a friendly smile that was very easy on the eyes.

Keith walked up to the counter, intending to order something small for breakfast. He gave a glance to the person in front of him and immediately had to pull a double-take. The man in front of him was… pretty. Keith had never used that word to describe a man, and he didn’t think he would be, well, interested in anyone fitting the description.

The man was tall, with long, long legs emphasized by strappy white wedges and high-waisted shorts. He wore a flowy crop-top, in a pastel-pink color that went well with his rich, coppery skin. When he reached over to grab his drink, Keith could see the clean white polish on the his nails, and the many bracelets and rings he wore. What really struck Keith’s attention, though, was the crown of colorful flowers that sat primly on the man’s brown hair. The flowers didn’t have a plastic sheen, and were too smooth looking to be cloth, so Keith could only assume they were real.

Keith watched in utter horror as the man turned heel and approached the familiar corner booth to sit next to the handsome, heavy-set man that was animatedly talking with Pidge. Keith stared at the back of the man’s head, swallowing thickly, wondering how in the fuck he was gonna do this. He approached the counter and picked up a pastry, contemplating just running away before Pidge saw him. But, of course, like some kind of telepathy, Pidge chose that very moment to see Keith, and excitedly waved over at him.

Keith was intimately aware of his careless attire and suddenly regretted not dressing a little nicer. It was only when he slid into the booth next to Pidge that he was able to get a look at the man’s face.

“–this is Hunk, my friend from Robotics Club,” Pidge introduced. Keith sheepishly pulled his eyes away from the pretty, flower-covered man across from him so he could meet Hunk’s eyes.

“Nice to meet you,” Keith said, a little stiffly, but then Hunk smiled reassuringly at him, and Keith felt the tension ease from his shoulders.

“It’s great to finally meet you, Keith!” Hunk shook Keith’s hand. “Pidge has told me a lot about you!”

“Oh, and this is Lance, our resident ghost magnet!” Pidge gestured to the remaining stranger. Keith finally got a good look at the man–Lance. Along with the flowers, Lance was covered in jewelry, the soft light of the cafe bouncing off of the gemstones to dapple Lance’s skin in the reflected colors. Lance’s face tensed a little at Pidge’s words, but before Keith could analyze his expression, Lance’s face smoothed back out.

“What can I say, I’m irresistible even beyond the grave.” His voice was positively saturated in cocky confidence. “It’s more of a curse–having to fend off admirers from both planes of existence.”

Keith rolled his eyes. Lance fiddled with one of his earrings.

“Will you help us?” Keith asked, bluntly. Lance glanced at him, a thin eyebrow raised in question. “We’re paranormal investigators, and we think having you would be useful–if you’re even telling the truth about being ghost-sensitive.”

Lance bristled.

“You’re lucky Hunk talked you two up so much or I wouldn’t even be here.” Lance leaned back, arms crossed, easing into an air of cool. “You don’t even know how many wannabe ghostbusters I get trying to coax me into their bad mojo.”

“And you don’t know how many bullshit ghost stories we get from people saying they can talk to the dead or summon spirits. I can tell you I’m only here because of Pidge, because personally I hate bringing in outsiders.”

“Wow, okay, what a big hotshot we have over here.” It was Lance’s turn to roll his eyes. “You don’t even know the beginning of the bullshit I have to deal with–”

Lance was cut off by Hunk interjecting.

“Guys!” He put a hand onto Lance’s shoulder. Lance looked at his friend, then pouted and slumped back in his seat. “Lance, dude, take a breath, chill out a little bit. We already went over what they want, remember? You agreed to come.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Lance mumbled. He leaned on Hunk, his cheek nuzzling into his friend’s bicep. “Sorry, buddy. I’m just gonna go to the bathroom for a sec; be right back.”

Keith, still seething from Lance’s attitude, berated himself when he caught his eyes tracking Lance’s backside when he walked away.

Pidge tugged his sleeve to pull him down and whisper at him.

“Are you okay, dude? You usually don’t get worked up like that.”

“I’m fine. There’s just something about the way he talked that got under my skin.” The way Lance kept undermining Keith and Pidge and their work made Keith see red. He poured a lot into the channel, and so did Pidge; hearing someone disrespect it was like a personal attack, somehow.

“Sorry about that, guys,” Hunk said apologetically, “Some days can be a little more rough on him than others. Last night, all the hot water in the house ran out suspiciously early, and the bulb in the bathroom shattered while he was in there too. He had to spend all night in a top-to-bottom cleanse to expel the thing.”

“There was a ghost in his house?” Pidge said, eyes widening.

“Oh god, yes there was,” Lance groaned dramatically as he slid back into his seat. “I have no idea how it got in. I think this one necklace I got from Etsy was a fucking dud so the little bastard hitched a ride. It was awful.”

“You had a ghost in your house?” Pidge repeated.

“Yeah, uh,” Lance blinked, suddenly looking a little uncomfortable. “I try to prevent it as much as I can. When a spirit attaches to a home it’s so hard to get rid of, so you gotta exorcise those fuckers ASAP.”

“You’ve done that before?? You just expel ghosts often?” Pidge looked almost in awe.

“Yup,” Lance popped the ‘p’. “Hunk did tell you supernatural stuff happens to me all the time, right?”

“Yeah, but I just thought he meant, like, you go to haunted places and the ghosts come out to see you–not that they follow you around!” Pidge suddenly pulled back, “That must suck if you’re not looking for them, dude.”

“THANK YOU!” Lance exclaimed, “ Finally someone understands. Thank you, Pidgeon; I think we’ll be very good friends.”

“So will you help us?” Keith asked again.

“Sure–” Keith and Pidge sighed in relief before Lance continued, “–but only if Pidge builds me a drone that looks like the Millenium Falcon. Hunk refuses to do it for me.”

“Are you kidding? I would fucking love to do that. I can even add in a claw that you can use to pick up stuff, or like a candy dispenser.” Pidge looked giddy. Lance’s eyes lit up and he leaned over to grasp both of Pidge’s hands in his own.

“Pidge, I would die for you.”

The rest of the cafe meet was Pidge and Lance geeking out over the features to put on Lance’s drone, with Hunk occasionally butting in to keep things reasonable. Keith bit back some snarky remarks, but every once in a while one would slip out, and Lance would immediately snap back with another in reply before he was distracted away from a full argument.

It was…kinda nice, Keith would suppose. Hunk was very kind but would not hesitate to say something to passive aggressively put the others in their place. Lance got along incredibly with Pidge, but for some reason, whenever he would say a word to Keith it would end with the two of them bickering. After the tension of the first argument broke, though, none of the bickering in question would be openly malicious. In fact, it was kind of fun. It was like they would just try to one-up each other with every smart-ass one liner.

They eventually decided on a day to meet up so they could do some testing with Lance’s abilities, then went their separate ways.

The meet was at Pidge’s, because they had the most equipment set up and ready to go. They did a number of tests on Lance and gathered data in their chicken scratch handwriting, leaving the research element to Keith, mostly. Lance was pretty compliant, and often cracked jokes while having his body poked and prodded with strange tools.

Eventually Pidge decided to take Lance “on the field”, and take him to haunted spots to observe him there. That was how Lance and Keith ended up sitting on bean bags in the library while Pidge and Hunk fiddled with computers and machinery in the background. Keith was trying to get Lance to tell him more about the paranormal aspect of his life, but Lance got increasingly defensive about it and kept trying to dodge the topic.

It was kind of the cycle they got into whenever they were left to their own devices–Keith would prod Lance about ghosts, Lance would change the topic, they would bicker for a little bit before moving the conversation elsewhere. It wasn’t a bad thing by any means, they did learn a lot about each other. For example, both of them liked watching true crime documentaries on Netflix, or the fact that neither of them could ever sit still to read a book in silence.

“I either had someone explain it to me, or I got my siblings to read it aloud,” Lance said, reminiscing. “Obviously, I could read it myself just fine, I just got lost super easily, yanno? I’d end up thinking of some question or imagining a scene and next thing I know I’ve been on the same page for ten minutes.”

“Yeah, I always got antsy. Sometimes the words would get mixed up and it would hurt my head, and then if I wanted to keep going I would have to point at each individual word and read them separately but then I wouldn’t absorb anything that was going on. It’s gotten better as I’ve gotten older, though.”

“Yeah, same. Nowadays I just use audio books.”

Sometimes they would lapse into slightly awkward silences, especially when the topic of childhood came about. Keith was about to say something when Lance blurted out:

“Uh, do you know you have a ghost following you?”

“What? Wait, wait, what the fuck?”

Lance looked incredibly sheepish, hands flying up to backtrack.

“I, uh–it’s just that….shit this is weird to explain.” Lance bit at his thumbnail, which was a pale purple that day. “It’s like…there’s this…energy? Around you? I don’t know something about it feels really…protective? In like a loving way I guess…have you ever had a pet?”

Keith blinked. Lance usually didn’t talk about the ghosts he sensed. He said it didn’t really do anything but make him really sad, so he tried to avoid looking into the ghosts’ personalities or whatever. The one time they got him to mention something was when he had sat on a swingset at the park and almost burst into tears. The ghost was of a second-grader.

“Um…when I was a kid I had a cat?” Keith replied. He hadn’t thought about Red in years. She was a fluffy orange tabby with a grouchy personality who always sat on Keith’s head whenever he laid down. He loved her a lot and was devastated when she passed.

“Yeah, yeah…that’s kind of the feel I get,” Lance’s eyes went a little distant, as if he were lost in thought. “She’s…just kind of watching you…in a good way…”

Lance blinked.

“Uh, I haven’t mentioned this before but, um…if you could like, give me something of hers then the…connection, I guess, would be stronger.” Lance nervously fiddled with the hem of his shirt. “If you want.”

“Are you some sort of medium?” Keith asked, carefully.

“Not really? I mean I can’t summon just any spirit I want or anything, but if something is there then I can like sense it. It gets stronger whenever I’m in a spiritually charged area or I have something physical to hold. So, like a medium, just they have to come to me.”

Keith dashed thoughts of contacting his parents. Lance just said he couldn’t force any spirit to show themselves, and besides, that would be an incredibly awkward situation to force Lance into.

“Have you ever talked to a ghost?”

“Yeah, plenty.” Lance bit at his lip. “It was a lot easier when I was a kid, before I started trying to block them out.”

“Block them out?”

That pulled a chuckle out of Lance, and Keith was glad to have dashed some of that somber look in Lance’s eyes.

“Not all ghosts are good ones, Keithy–” Keith grimaced at the nickname. “What do you think all these pretty gems and flowers are for? I live for the aesthetic but not enough to bathe in it.”

Lance gestured to the flower behind his ear, and the gemstones on his amulets and necklaces. “All of this is for protection–the gems and the flowers. I even make my own incense and essential oils. It’s actually how I met Hunk.”

Hunk’s head popped up at the mention of his name.

“Are you telling him our meet-cute?” Hunk’s voice got Pidge’s attention too, for a short while. Lance laughed again, the former serious mood completely gone.

“Yeah! You see, Hunk’s family runs half of a flower shop.” Lance waited for the inevitable questioning ‘half?’ from Keith and Pidge before continuing. “So years and years ago, the Garretts and the Balmerans had two rival flower shops that were trapped in a bitter blood feud–Romeo and Juliet style. Then one day, completely unlike Romeo and Juliet, the antique shop owner from across the street played the flower shop owners in poker. In an embarrassing, alcohol-fueled night, the two owners had accidentally made an agreement to combine their shops if they lost to the antique shop owner. And they lost miserably, because every Garrett and Every Balmeran I have ever met have zero poker-face skill.

“So now Hunk’s family is half the owner of the best flower shop in town–well, the only one in town–and I met my best buddy because I’d just been buying all of my plants like a moron and Hunk finally decided to save me and show me how to make my own garden after watching me spend–how much money was it again, buddy?”

“Oh god, it was horrible. He spent, like, at least 500$ in about two weeks. I couldn’t let him do that to himself, even if he was great for business.”

The story got a laugh out of Keith. When he glanced over at Lance again, though, he found the other just kind of staring at him with a look so soft it made Keith’s stomach twist pleasantly, and he had to bite his lip to keep from grinning like a loon. The action just made Lance’s mouth twist into a smile, and in that short, quiet moment, they were both just smiling at each other, and Keith hoped that Lance was feeling the same way, even if Keith himself couldn’t explain what that feeling was.

After running through all of their equipment at least twice–which took about another week and a half–Pidge had finally decided they were ready for St. Zarkon’s. As tradition, before they could go, they would visit Allura.

“So…we’re going to meet your psychic?” Hunk asked. Despite the fact that his best friend was a ghost magnet, he was somehow skeptical of a psychic.

“Yeah, she’s amazing. We always go to her to make sure we won’t, like, die or something.” Pidge shrugged. “She’s really accurate, but not like, telling your whole future word by word stuff. It’s mostly cryptic warnings and feelings.”

“And you’re sure she’s legit and not using confirmation bias to make you think her vague statements are predictions?”

“No, dude, she’s our friend. Plus she stopped charging us ages ago.” Pidge replied.

They entered Allura’s establishment, and immediately Lance gave a long, and particularly pleased sounding breathy noise that had Keith’s face burning bright red. Hunk turned to him with a raised eyebrow.

“Buddy, are you okay?”

“Hunk I have never been better. This place is so clean. There’s a lot of good feelings around here and I can’t sense a single ghost. It’s so good. Do you think she sells any of these gems?”

“I think she does, actually. We’d have to ask her though. C’mon, she should be expecting us–”

Pidge was interrupted as the clack of heeled footsteps approached them. Allura looked stunning as usual, her voluminous silvery hair framing her dark skin and shimmery clothing to give off an otherworldly feel. She’d barely looked up to greet them when Lance had gasped loudly in surprise.

“Allura??”

At the sound of Lance’s voice, Allura’s face snapped up to meet his, a similar look of surprise on her own face.

“Lance? What are you doing here?”

“Allura!! You’re psychic??” Lance approached her, going to grab her hands familiarly. Keith’s brow furrowed.

“Wait…you guys know each other?” Pidge asked.

“Yeah! We’re in the same dance class! Allura is my partner!” Lance looked positively ecstatic. He turned back to Allura, still holding her hands with a bright smile on his face. “Why didn’t you tell me you were psychic, Lu? This shop feels so clear I might just camp out here forever!”

Keith found himself glaring at their clasped hands and the affectionate nickname. Over the time that they had gotten to know each other, Lance had been pretty open about his affections for attractive people of all sorts. Keith may have been gay, but he knew Allura was absolutely gorgeous–he had eyes. He should’ve figured Lance would be all over her, and considering they had a history–

But it’s not like Keith cared or anything. He had no reason to care about who Lance did or did not have romantic inclinations for. Keith knew he found Lance attractive but he wasn’t dumb enough to get a crush on him or anything, obviously. He liked Lance as a friend. Strictly as a friend. A friend with a heart-stopping laugh and endless blue eyes and the lightest smattering of freckles on his shoulders and–

“Well, Lance, I can’t just go around proclaiming I’m a psychic to everyone.” Allura’s voice pulled Keith out of his stupor. She had let go of his hands, thankfully.

“Yeah but didn’t you ever, like, feel anything weird about me?” Lance asked.

“…I wasn’t sure if you were aware of the happenings around you, Lance. Most people aren’t.”

“Allura, when I was five my best friend was a doctor with a noose around his neck that only I could see. It was only when I was 13 I found out he died in the house in the 1400s. I sat on a swingset last week and saw a second-grader with the upper half of their face gone. My ‘Lita basically force fed me holy water when she met me for the first time.” Lance looked at her. “I know.”

“I didn’t realize it was that serious, Lance, I’m sorry.” Allura placed a comforting hand on Lance’s shoulder. “My visions are very weak when I’m away from my crystals.”

“It’s okay, Lu,” Lance grinned at her, “It’s not your fault. Anyways though, I’m over here with the nerd squad for some ghost hunting.”

“Oh! Lovely! Well, you all should come along with me to the back and I’ll start the consultation.”

They all piled into the darkened room behind the curtains. Allura had once told them the over-the-top decorations were more for the sake of the customers than anything she actually needed. The one prop in the room that was truly necessary was the murky, indigo-colored crystal ball in the center of a table.

“So, where are you all intending on going this time?” Allura asked. When her fingers touched the stand of the crystal ball, however, she jolted, giving them all a concerned and level look. Pidge didn’t seem to notice when they responded.

“We’re finally tackling St. Zarkon’s Estate,” Pidge said confidently, “Not only do we have Lance, but me and Hunk have been working on a ton of new tech for it! We’re totally ready.”

Allura’s face was pinched.

“Alright…I can already tell I can’t stop you this time…” She took a heavy sigh and gently touched her fingertips to the smooth surface of her crystal ball. She breathed deeply, eyes shut. After a few moments, she opened her eyes with a shuddering sigh, her hands shaking.

“This…this is not going to be easy,” She mumbled, “There will be distress, there will be injury, but there will also be catharsis, and there will be the beginning of something new. Marmora will guide you.”

The room went quiet. Allura shook her head slightly.

“I don’t like this…” her voice was quiet, “But my visions are telling me this will turn out right in the end, somehow.” She gave them all a meaningful look. “I trust you all.”

“Thanks, Allura.” Keith gave her a small smile.

“What did you mean by ‘Marmora will guide us’? Who’s Marmora?” Hunk asked.

“I am…I am not sure. My visions are usually strong feelings or images of a moment, but never detailed.”

Keith frowned. The name sounded familiar, somehow.

“Welp! Time to get this show on the road! The sooner we get there the sooner I can get home to kick Hunk’s ass in MarioKart!” Lance proclaimed suddenly, breaking the soft atmosphere. Keith turned to look at Lance but the other was already marching out the door.

“I mean…he’s not wrong,” Pidge shrugged, “St. Zarkon’s is, like, an hour’s drive away. We should probably get going before it gets too dark.”

A wave of murmured agreement washed over the rest of the group. They bid their goodbyes to Allura and met Lance back at the car.

“Lance what the hell are you doing?” Keith asked, deadpan. Lance had been halfway inside the car, leaning over the driver’s side. Keith tried to force his eyes anywhere else but Lance’s…lower half was all that could be seen of him. It didn’t help that the sheer cardigan he wore had been shucked up and to the side, leaving the long line of Lance’s black leggings on full display.

“I’m just setting up some tunes for the road!” Lance laughed, suddenly. “Hunk left the AUX cord where I could find it–so I call dibs!”

Pidge groaned. Keith knew how much they loved having control of the music.

The group piled into the car, Hunk driving, Pidge in shotgun (they called it), and Lance and Keith in the backseat. As the car started up, Lance’s grin was downright devious as he held up his phone. All of a sudden, a poppy, unfamiliar music riff began, Hunk whispered a quiet “oh god” and then Lance was screaming lyrics along with the vaguely nostalgic vocals of an early 2000s boyband.

Lance’s playlist was…eclectic at best, painful at worst, jumping from cheesy musical numbers to badly autotuned pop garbage with Lance singing throughout all of them. Every song was a performance and there was no end in fucking sight. Keith had never longed for a single moment of quietmore in his entire life.

Pidge complained every two songs and Hunk tried gently to console them. Whenever they tried to turn the music down Lance would screech at them until they stopped. Keith had seen Lance act over-the-top but this just seemed downright obnoxious. Even Keith tried to say something, but Lance just ignored him completely and kept singing.

It’s not like Lance couldn’t sing, but after belting out a few songs he got lazy and whiny sounding.

Eventually, they stopped at a gas station to refill, and Lance stepped out of the car to use the bathroom, leaving the rest of them in blissful silence.

“Oh thank god.” Pidge dragged their hands down their face. They reached for the radio, but Hunk stopped them. Pidge looked at Hunk with the most abject confusion and betrayal. Hunk tried to smile at them reassuringly, but Keith could see the conflict on Hunk’s face. Hunk glanced out the window behind him before turning to Keith and Pidge.

“Look, I don’t think I’m supposed to tell you guys this, but uh,” Hunk awkwardly rubbed his neck, looking severely uncomfortable, “…this is Lance’s happy playlist. He kind of only plays it when he’s upset or nervous. He hasn’t said anything to me, but I think this whole…St. Zarkon’s ghost thing is really getting to him. I know it’s painful…believe me, I know–”

“Yo, Hunk, it’s okay dude,” Pidge put a hand on Hunk’s shoulder. “You should’ve just told us that sooner. I mean, damn, I hadn’t even noticed Lance acting that weird or anything, but….I probably should’ve. At least asked him or something.” Pidge looked sheepish. “I forget, sometimes, that not everyone is as excited over ghosts like me and Keith are.”

Keith bit his lip. Knowing that Lance was nervous kind of put things into perspective. Keith probably should’ve seen it coming, as he was the one left to talk to Lance the most while the other two worked on the tech. He knew Lance wore an overabundance of protective charms; he knew Lance cleansed his house with herbs almost religiously; he knew Lance had a history with spirits getting physical with him or his stuff. What Lance didn’t tell him, Keith had guessed. Keith suddenly felt a little guilty for not thinking of Lance more.

“We’re…kind of shitty friends…” Keith said suddenly.

“What? Oh god, no–jesus–don’t think that,” Hunk sounded distressed suddenly. “Lance tries to hide these things. It’s not your fault he does it well. Hell, I’ve known him for years and even I didn’t see it. I guess he just convinced himself to do this.” Hunk paused for a second. “I know he might have a weird way of showing it sometimes, but Lance really likes you two. And I think he even likes how into ghosts you are.”

“Really?” Keith and Pidge said at the same time.

“Yeah, I think it’s just because of how much you believe in all of it.” Hunk suddenly had a look of guilt. “He, uh, doesn’t have a good history of people believing him. Even I didn’t believe him at first. I was there for him and I supported him but I think I just told myself he was making it up somehow. I only started believing him for real after, uh…let’s just say something really bad happened.”

They could tell that Hunk didn’t want to say anything more, and just left it at that.Though Keith would bet money that Pidge was dying to ask more. Before they could, though, Lance came back, with a blue slushie and a plastic gas station bag.

“Heyo, guess who brought snacks?” Lance held up the bag. “We’ve got powdered donuts for Hunk, Nutty Bars for Pidge, and some Sour Patch Kids for Keith.”

“Thanks buddy,” Hunk said pleasantly, biting into a donut as he started the car.

“Anything for you, big guy.” Lance’s grin was lopsided and showed off the dimple on his cheek. Not that there was any reason for Keith to notice that. Keith almost didn’t hear the aggressive sound of plastic wrap being shredded to pieces.

“Woah, Pidge you eat faster than my little niece on a sugar rush.” Lance raised an eyebrow at Pidge, stifling his giggles. In the short while it had taken Lance to hand out the food and talk to Hunk, Pidge was already one Nutty Bar down out of two, and was enthusiastically working on the next. Pidge didn’t respond aside from a weird growling/hissing sound they made whenever someone tried to interrupt their snacking. Keith was used to it.

Keith looked down at his own snack, fingers running along the package. He was kind of surprised Lance remembered. Looking back, he probably only ate them once or twice in Lance’s presence, and he certainly couldn’t remember saying they were his favorite–except for once in a video.

…but Lance probably just assumed Keith liked them from those few times he saw Keith eating them. There was no way he sat through twenty minutes of Keith ranting about the Jersey Devil just to get to the part where Keith said Sour Patch Kids were his favorite candy. Probably.

Keith glanced over at Lance, only to lock eyes with him. Lance jumped and looked away suddenly, stuffing his slushie straw into his mouth. If he didn’t know any better, Keith would say Lance’s face looked a little pink before he turned away…?

“How did you know to get me Sour Patch Kids?” Keith asked, trying to keep his voice nonchalant. He traced his finger over the serrated edge of the package, feeling the plastic on his fingertips, before tearing it open and popping a gummy into his mouth. He rolled the candy around his tongue, letting himself feel the roughness of the outside before it melted. It was always his favorite part about eating them. That, and he liked the sour part.

It took Lance a second to respond. When he did, his voice was a little timid. It was almost difficult to hear over the music, which started to play again–something peppy Keith had heard on the radio before.

“Well, they’re your favorite, right? And I mean, you are eating them so I’m guessing they still are.” Lance’s face scrunched up. “You’re not one of those people who eats things they hate just to be polite, right?” Keith rolled his eyes, laughing a little at the horrified look on Lance’s face.

“Of course I’m not like that,” Keith replied, “If I hate something, you’re gonna damn well know how much I hate it. Pidge can testify.” Keith suddenly called to the front of the car, “Pidge! Remember Thanksgiving last year?”

“Oh yeah, my gross great-aunt Sheryl kept trying to get you to eat the green beans.” Pidge turned to clarify. “Keith kept telling her he hated green beans, but she wasn’t listening and wouldn’t let him leave and she kept trying to put a spoonful onto his plate. Keith ended up yelling at her. Oh god I can still hear it now: ‘I do NOT want any of your slimy white-people food Sheryl. I’ve eaten ass that tastes better than your cooking.’ Man, Sheryl shut the fuck up after that. It was amazing.”

“You did not.” Lance nudged Keith’s shoulder in amazed disbelief. “No wait, I can totally see it. Holy shit, Keith, you’re my hero.” Lance was laughing, and his eyes crinkled at the corners, and his two front teeth were just a little crooked, and the slushie had dyed his tongue blue, and he was…beautiful. Keith couldn’t help but grin back at him, a little dazedly.

Soon, Lance finished his slushie, and was free to go back to singing along with his happy playlist. Every once in a while, Pidge would pipe in when they recognized something, and the two had a lovely duet to the PokeRap together. They took turns rapping each of the verses while the other beatboxed. Neither of them could beatbox.

Eventually, though, they pulled up to the chainlink fence encircling the Estate. High on the hill, the dilapidated mansion loomed above them, looking like every cliche from every old Scooby Doo cartoon. As they approached the fence, Keith saw Lance tense up. Hunk and Pidge were working on getting the equipment out of the car, so Keith turned to Lance, concerned.

“Are you okay?” Lance looked startled at the question, eyes tearing away from the Estate to focus on Keith.

“…Yeah, um…” Lance did not look okay at all. “I’m totally fine. I’ll be fine.” Lance sounded like he was trying to convince himself as he rubbed his own arms, as if he were cold. Keith, unused to comforting but wanting to help, put a hand on Lance’s bicep. Lance’s focus was again pulled away from the Estate and was entirely on Keith. He looked a little surprised, but not displeased, and was about to say something when suddenly a loud crash startled them both.

Lance clung to Keith’s arm, eyes darting fearfully around him. He was slouched down and pressed so close Keith could feel the rapid beating of his heart. Overcome with the urge to protect, Keith had to resist the way his arm wanted to wrap around Lance’s waist and tug him closer.

“Sorry about that, guys!” Hunk said, drawing their attention to the heavy-looking piece of machinery in front of him. Though the danger was apparently gone, Lance still hadn’t let go of Keith. Not that Keith was particularly complaining.

Pidge caught sight of them, however, and gave Keith the most devious look. Keith groaned internally, knowing already he would be forced to sit through an endless barrage of teasing when they got home.

“Okay, how do we get in?” Hunk had piled up the equipment onto a metal trolley Keith had stolen from the highschool when he was in the 7th grade.

“There’s an area of fence that isn’t in the ground properly, so we can lift it to get inside,” Keith said, casually, “I marked it off with some rope, but after this we shouldn’t need to come back, so I’m probably just going to take my rope back with me.”

“How did you find that part of the fence?” Hunk asked.

“We scoped out the place a while ago.” Pidge grinned. “Allura said not to go inside but she said nothing about just circling the perimeter. We gotta be thorough.”

The group followed Keith as he walked around the edge of the fence, looking for the knot of rope.

“Oh, there it is. Farther than I remember.” The rope was eye-level, so Keith just reached into his waistband to pull out his knife and slice it off.

“Woah! Dude! Why do you just have a knife on you?” Lance’s grip on Keith’s arm had tightened, and he jumped back a little bit–without letting go of course.

“Um…I always carry this on me?”

“Just…in your pants? You just carry a knife…in your pants…at all times?” Lance was speaking slowly.

“…yes?”

“I was going to make a bad joke right now but the mojo around this place is really getting to me. Can we just get on with it?” Lance sighed tiredly. He leaned against Keith’s shoulder, his hair tickling Keith’s cheek. Keith stiffened but didn’t move. Hunk caught his eye and mouthed ‘sorry’ at him. Apparently Lance’s touchiness got worse when he was scared…?

Hunk, being the tallest, lifted the fence so they could all walk through. From inside the gate, the Estate actually didn’t look as far away. As they made their way up the hill, they went over the gameplan.

“Okay, so I’ll start recording when we get to the porch. We walk into the house and hang around the first big room recording data with the equipment until we get something, or until we don’t get something, then we move to the next room,” Pidge explained, “Whatever we do, though, we always stick with the group. No walking around on your own. I mean, this place is old as balls and is probably rotting as we speak so it’s just safer.”

With every step they tool approaching the Estate, Lance just seemed to inch himself closer and closer to Keith. Eventually Lance had stepped on the back of Keith’s shoes one time too many and Keith had to stop, which caused Lance to walk right into his back.

Keith looked back at Lance, prepared to be annoyed, but all he saw were Lance’s big blue eyes wide with terror.

“Hey, we’re gonna be okay, you’re gonna be okay in there. You got this.” Keith’s voice was a little too quiet and stiff, but he hoped he was able to get his sincerity across. Keith pried Lance’s hands off of his arm and instead moved to clasp Lance’s hand with his own. Having Lance walking beside him was much better.

The group stood on the front porch, Lance had intertwined his fingers with Keith’s and was biting his lip as he stared at the door. Pidge took out their camera and put a hand on the doorknob.

The door creaked shrilly as it struggled open, the rusty hinges practically screaming at the strain. Pidge’s flashlight caught on the dust in the air and the gaping, moldy holes in the floorboards. They carefully tested every step before moving forward, as if they were looking for traps in an Indiana Jones movie. Everyone followed immediately behind them, not wanting to accidentally step on a weak area of the floor. Eventually, they had all piled into the front room, with a big spiral staircase to the right and doorways to the front and left.

Pidge and Hunk set up the equipment on the trolley. Lance trembled next to Keith. A long, dry scratching noise sounded from somewhere on the floor above them, like fingernails being dragged over wood. Lance whimpered.

“Guys…I really, really don’t like this.” Lance mumbled.

“That was probably just some animal or something. Hunk and I haven’t finished setting up all the way but we don’t have any super strong readings yet, at least not from this room.” Pidge turned to Hunk. “Do you think we should move on?”

The group looked around the room at their options. They had decided beforehand going upstairs was too dangerous, and the doorway to the left was blocked off by fallen ceiling beams. The only way to go was forward.

“Keith and Lance, you guys go first to scope out the area and make sure it’s safe. Pidge and I need to make sure the equipment will be okay. Can you handle that, buddy?” Hunk said the last part to Lance, mostly. Lance nodded shakily, nails digging painfully, unintentionally, into Keith’s hand.

They slowly progressed down what was revealed to be a narrow hallway. The only light was from Keith and Pidge’s flashlights, and the murky sunlight that filtered through the holes in the ceiling at random intervals. The scratching noise started up again, this time more aggressive–starting and stopping like something was repeatedly dragging its claws over the same spot. From behind them, glass broke.

Lance grit his teeth, jaw clenching painfully. What felt like an actual, physical force shoved into Keith’s back, a chill washing over the room. Keith stumbled into Lance.

“Woah! What the fuck!” Pidge cried, “Guys! We just got a massive spike in activity!”

Lance’s unoccupied hand reached up to press against his head, his eyes clenched tightly. The scratching grew louder, closer. More glass broke from somewhere. The chill had brought wind. From behind them, the sound of footsteps over rubble. Lance groaned.

“Lance? Are you okay?” Hunk asked from behind them.

Then, Lance fell to his knees, his pained groans growing louder as he pressed both hands to his temples. Hunk tried to rush forward. The scratching stopped only to be replaced with the sounds of doors slamming shut, and the clatter of wooden boards being met with blunt force. The footsteps on rubble grew closer.

“No…no, no!” Lance mumbled, voice hoarse, “Stay out! Stay out! Get away from me!” His hands gripped at his hair. The light shone a murky gray over him, the dust spiraling around his body. All of the light disappeared for half a second–the flashlights, the equipment, the sun–

Everything came back, brighter, and less than five feet in front of them stood a massive, ancient looking floor-length mirror that hadn’t been there before.

Several things happened at once.

Lance screamed. The mirror shattered. Keith felt claws gripping his arm as he tried to lunge for Lance. The floorboards below them gave out. Darkness.

Keith felt a searing pain in his side, and a throbbing in his head. He belatedly realized he still had his flashlight in his hand and slammed it against his hand until it worked again. He stood slowly, legs shaking, and coughed when he inhaled dust.

“Lance?” He asked, voice wavering. Then, more sure: “Lance!”

Keith heard a responding groan and raced to it as fast as his injuries would allow. He dropped the flashlight and kneeled by Lance, who was curled into the fetal position, whining in pain, though he didn’t have any visible wounds. Unlike Keith, who could feel the blood warm and sticky at his side, plastering his shirt to his skin.

“Lance?” Keith asked gently, turning Lance over to look at his face. Lance was dazed, eyes glassy and unfocused. “Lance!”

Then, the room started to quake violently. Keith wildly waved his phone around him, trying to gague the room while shielding his eyes from falling debris. Around him, pantries and shelves were rattling and shaking, their old glass bottles like a sick imitation of windchimes, before falling and smashing on the floor. The wooden planks on the walls thumped against each other, splintering at every crash. Keith curled over Lance, who was still unresponsive.

Then, a voice.

A raspy voice, like a sharp stone scraping against a metal plate, ear-bleedingly shrill and gritty. The voice spoke in a language Keith couldn’t understand, yet it still made his blood run cold. He swaddled Lance into his arms protectively, cradling him, a hand going to clutch at his knife.

A figure, foggy at the edges like an old watercolor painting, appeared in front of him, glowing with a pulsing light, flickering in and out of existence. The only things Keith could make out were thin strands of stringy, messy hair and long fingernails caked with blood and dirt. The figure had no mouth. Its eyes were blank. And yet it spoke, inching closer, a twitching arm reaching towards Lance’s limp body. Keith bared his teeth, knife raised threateningly.

Lance twitched. The figure’s hand came dangerously close to brushing a claw against Lance’s face, and Keith saw red, slashing viciously at the arm. The creature gave an indecipherable sound of agony, loud and harsh and grating. Then it surged backwards as if being forcefully dragged away, a heavy wind followed their movements, throwing broken glass and rubble into Keith’s back. He hunched over Lance, who had started to shift.

When the wind died down, Keith felt Lance shiver. Then, he convulsed violently, gasping desperately like he was struggling for air. A hand gripped Keith’s arm, the other going to claw at his neck.

“Oh shit, shit shit!” Keith hissed to himself. He stuck his knife between his teeth so he could use his free hand to pull Lance’s nails away from his own throat. Keith immobilized Lance’s hand by grabbing it with his own, a facsimile of how their fingers had been intertwined before. Lance’s body spasmed a few more times before going still again, his breathing evening out.

Keith stared into Lance’s eyes and felt a wave of relief wash over him when they refocused.

“….Keith?” Lance’s voice was a whisper. “Why do you have your knife in your mouth? ….And why is it glowing?”

Keith blinked. Lance sat up slowly and Keith used the hand not holding Lance’s to take the blade out from his teeth. He turned it in his hand, quizzically. The familiar runes were glowing a neon purple–which provided them with light, thankfully, since Keith had no damn idea where the flashlight went.

“Do you remember what happened?” Keith asked. Lance rubbed his forehead with his palm, looking pained.

“I….uh…there was this presence, and it kept slamming into my head, trying to get in…it was so dark, Keith, like, usually with ghosts I feel some of what they feel but this one was nothing… it was just…empty.” Lance swallowed. “Then there was a mirror and it showed me everything. Everything that had ever happened in this house, all of the people who died here, what happened to them. The images just kept coming and coming over and over and I could hear them. Eventually the screaming stopped and it was crying but worse than that was the silence. Because when there was silence there was nothing to hide the rest of the sounds of the machines and the hacking and the sizzling–oh god, Keith.”

Lance threw himself into Keith’s arms, burying his face in Keith’s shoulder, his arms flung over Keith’s neck. Keith couldn’t imagine what Lance had been through. Lance took a few, shuddering breaths before he pulled away.

“We…should really get out of here,” Lance mumbled, not looking at Keith.

“Yeah, we need to get Hunk and Pidge and never come back to this shithole.” Keith stood, wincing at the pain in his side. Now that Lance was okay, the wound had made itself known again, tenfold.

“Shit, Keith, are you okay?” Lance tried to look at Keith’s side, but Keith gritted his teeth and shook his head. “I’ll be fine. We just need to figure out where the hell we are and how to get back before that fucking thing shows up again.”

“…What thing?”

“The fucking ghost thing, whatever the fuck it was. It tried to touch you when you were, uh, out of it. But then it left.”

“Jesus Christ.” Lance’s voice was strained. “Long nails? Ugly long hair with garbage split ends?”

“…yes?”

“Fuck. Yeah, okay, we really gotta leave.”

The two had guessed they were somewhere in the kitchen storage, and that the servant’s quarters should be nearby. From there they could find a staircase and get the fuck out. Lance mentioned Hunk and Pidge, and when Keith suggested checking their phones, Lance dejectedly told him that the ghost probably drained all their batteries.

“Tell me, doc, is it bad?” Lance said dramatically, eyes shut as he held out his phone to Keith.

“Shut up,” Keith said in lieu of admitting Lance was totally right.

The floors were littered with old junk they had to step around–bottles and furniture and broken things Keith didn’t want to compare to bones. Lance clung to him, whispering prayers under his breath. Every once in awhile Lance would cringe and tuck his face into Keith’s arm, whining quietly as they stood stock still. In those moments activity would pick up again, and Keith’s body would stiffen at every scrape, drag, and crash he heard around them. They always moved a little faster when they heard any sound come from behind them, though.

Eventually they stumbled into the servant’s quarters, which was marked with an old, faded sign on the wall.

“Yanno, this place kinda reminds me of a Skyrim dungeon, yanno? All the old wooden furniture and weird glitches from the fucking ghosts really bring that atmosphere together.” Lance muttered. While Keith didn’t see anything, Lance would swear up and down he could catch glimpses of blood splattering on the walls, old chains swinging from the ceiling, giant cockroaches skittering across the floor, doors and chairs blinking in and out of existence. He said it had something to do with the bad energy of the house messing with him–whatever was haunting the place had some real twisted visions.

Lance held Keith’s hand as they crossed the small room. Keith was seconds away from testing the first of the weak looking steps when Lance suddenly stiffened. Color drained from his face as he stared directly at Keith, whispering one word:

“Run.”

They had started barreling up the staircase, hand in hand, when the room behind them exploded. Metal cutlery and splintered wood bursting forwards, the ancient bedframes jumping from their places to shoot through the ceiling. They heard a high-pitched scream from somewhere in the house. The raspy voice came back with an animalistic screech.

Keith could see fucking light at the top of the staircase when suddenly his hand was jerked down.

“Fuck!” Lance yelled. He yanked his foot from where it had broken a hole in through the stair, but it woudln’t budge. The disaster of the servant’s quarters was drawing nearer, the cold presence of the ghost nipping at Keith’s ankles. Keith let go of Lance’s hand–noting with desperate heartbreak the sad, resigned look on Lance’s face at the action–and moved to grip Lance at the waist with both arms, wrenching him out of the floor and throwing his body over his shoulder to race up the rest of the way. The stairs they had passed started to shatter behind them, one by one, and clawmarks slowly appeared on the walls, rising along behind them, gaining more and more speed until Keith was bounding two steps at a time to avoid getting caught on the splinters. By the time they reached the top step, Keith hurled Lance into the next room and turned to slam the door behind him, his knife still clutched in hand.

Keith’s chest heaved, the pain burning sharply. He knew the wound at his side had most likely torn even deeper. Keith’s eyes caught on the soft glow of his knife as it pulsated under his palm, slow and steady. From behind him, Keith heard a pained groan.

“Oh, shit– Lance.” Keith turned to see Lance sprawled on the floor, legs thrown up against the side of a counter at the far end of the small room.

“Wow, thanks Keith. If I wasn’t injured before I sure as fuck am now. Jesus.” Lance crossed his arms, looking entirely un-pleased at the turn of events. He looked pretty silly like that, pouting and upside down. Keith laughed breathlessly, partially from the image, and partially from the sheer overwhelming emotional overload he was experiencing. Lance grinned back, laughing just as breathlessly as he laid there on the floor.

“So…” Lance started after their laughter had pittered out.

“Yeah…” Keith responded.

“Where are we now?”

“Uh, the servant’s kitchens, I think. Around here there should be a back door, but there’s gonna also be a few hallways and sitting rooms or something.”

“Okay…let’s get walking I guess,” Lance said. He reached his arms out in a grabby motion. “Help me up? The blood is rushing to my head.”

Other than some bruises, Lance was fine. Keith was praying they could finally leave without anymore fanfare. They were making their way down the only unblocked hallway, heart rates finally slowing back to some kind of normalcy, when they heard the awful, horrible, dragging of claws behind them.

“Oh come the FUCK on!” Lance cried. He and Keith started running again. “We JUST got away from this bitch!”

The hallway seemed to grow infinitely longer, the end twisting and morphing like a bad optical illusion. Keith felt bile rise in his throat. Lance groaned and clambered for Keith’s hand, trying to keep steady.

A mirror appeared in front of them and Lance screamed. This time, Keith could catch a glimpse of what was reflected. He saw a familiar set of eyes staring back at him solemnly before Lance had pulled him into a room. Another mirror appeared in the doorway before being immediately shattered, forcing Keith and Lance to step back further into the room.

The figure appeared in front of them again. Keith tugged Lance behind him. The figure once again reached its clawed arm towards Lance, and Keith growled deep in his throat. He sharply raised his knife, its light suddenly intensifying. The creature hissed, rearing back. Keith slashed towards it blindly, emboldened but not thinking properly. The creature screamed and vanished again. Keith looked down at his knife.

“I think…I think it’s afraid of my knife…” Keith mumbled, “Why the fuck is a ghost afraid of my knife?”

“I….I don’t know Keith…” Lance panted in between breaths, “Maybe…maybe I’ll fucking ask her when she’s not trying to kill us.”

“Her?”

Lance stiffened, looking uncomfortable.

“When that mirror appeared again…I saw her. She was just as pretty in life as she is now, Keith. Something evil  seeped into this house a long time ago, and she became its keeper.”

Then there was silence.

“Let’s just go, Keith, I don’t know how much more of this I can take.”

They started walking again. The hallway had returned back to normal.

At the end of the hall, there was a massive set of double doors. There were halls to the left and right, but they were blocked by rubble and holes in the floor. Once again, the only way to go was forward. Lance swallowed thickly.

“There is something really off about this damn room,” he muttered. Keith nodded, somehow able to feel what Lance was saying.

The doors opened much too easily–smooth and quiet, as if maintained. They were in perfect condition. The room they contained was packed floor to ceiling with books, desks and corkboards and flyaway papers everywhere. The room smelled heavily of ink and chemicals.

“It’s…the study.” Keith furrowed his brow. The ceiling was glass, so the whole room was illuminated with bright daylight. Unlike the other rooms, this one was void of dust, and stood perfectly still and golden, as if frozen in time. They walked forward cautiously.

Pristinely on the back wall, high above their heads, the centerpiece of the room: an enormous, oil painted family portrait.

“It’s…the Zarkons, right?” Lance had whispered.

There had been no evidence left of the family’s existence aside from their name, and the cryptic blueprints that had been scrounged up from old records. The portrait showed a mother, father, and young child–though the faces of the father and child had been burnt away, and the mother’s eyes had been savagely scratched out.

The massive wooden doors slammed shut behind them. The ghostly figure that had been stalking them stood once again before them. Mirrors appeared around her, encircling the room. Reflected in them was the painted mother, with her serene smile and clawed x’s over her eyes.

Keith held his dagger securely. In knowing it would protect them, somehow, he felt stronger. Fleetingly, a thought crossed his mind and he quietly gave thanks to Red, who he kept thinking about ever since Lance mentioned her. He apologized for being shit at taking care of himself when she was trying so hard. Despite that, though, he knew he was at least going to go down fighting, and he was going to go down fighting tooth and nail to protect Lance.

The figure started approaching them once more, the mirrors closing in along with her creaking movements.

“Fuck! If we’re gonna die here, I gotta say something–” Lance cried. Keith wanted to tell him they would get out alive, but Lance interrupted before he could– “I love my family so much, and I miss them a lot; I wish I’d told Hunk how much I appreciate him; I should’ve reminded Pidge how fucking brilliant they are, and fuck, Keith, I should’ve told you I liked you sooner.” Then Lance did something unthinkable. He darted forward and pressed his lips to Keith’s cheek, firmly but for just a second, then hid his face into Keith’s neck again.

Keith barely had the time to process Lance’s words when a rush enveloped him–a thrumming wave, as if he were caught underwater in a storm. It pounds in his head and he could feel it down to his teeth but it was somehow empowering. Somehow familiar. And the creature drew forward quicker and Keith’s knife grew so bright it overpowered the sunlight in the room so there was nothing but a bright, bright white and Keith lunged forward towards the creature. He shoved his arm forward, stabbing his knife and pushing it deeper into something he couldn’t fathom, he distantly heard screaming but it was muted and drowned by the thrumming in his head and he felt powerful in every bone in his body, his hands gripping the handle of his blade. He felt another set of hands over his own and with that he was able to finally force his way through.

The light faded. It took awhile for Keith’s eyes to adjust, but when they did, he was faced with the unnervingly empty study, the mirrors and the figure gone. Exhausted, Keith collapsed to his knees, looking up at the skylight with glazed eyes.

“Holy shit…” Lance whispered, awe and disbelief in his voice. He kneeled by Keith, grabbing the other’s face to look him dead in the eye, an exhilarated expression on his face. “Keith…I don’t know how the fuck you did it but– you did it. She’s…I’m…she’s gone!”

Then Lance, still gripping Keith’s face, pulled that face forward to firmly press his lips to Keith’s.

“That was so fucking awesome, Keith.” Lance was breathless when he pulled back, the adrenaline mixing with their relief in an intoxicating combination that made people do stupid, wonderful things like kiss their amazing, wonderful, stupid friends.

Keith’s brain still hadn’t caught up to the events that had occured when Lance gasped and suddenly turned.

Keith’s eyes focused on another figure, this one more complete and solid looking than the last, with a face Keith had only ever seen in old photographs in the backs of closets. The new figure looked down on them without a smile, but the look in her familiar eyes was soft.

“…Mom?” Keith’s voice was so, so small. She slowly lowered to the floor, appearing weightless still. She slowly picked up the knife from where it had clattered to the floor. Keith timidly reached a hand to meet hers as she handed him the knife. She smiled softly at him, before blinking out of his sight.

Before either Keith or Lance could say anything, the wooden doors burst open again, but instead of a ghost, it was Shiro, in full uniform.

“Keith! Are you okay?” Shiro approached them, and Lance looked extremely confused and shocked.

“Woah okay, did I get knocked out in that weird blast because I can’t be having that hot firefighter dream again what the fuck,” Lance mumbled only half-coherently.

“Ew, Lance what the fuck that’s my brother.”

“Oh…oops….sorry Keith,” Lance said distractedly, watching as Shiro lifted away some heavy debris from the door.

Eventually they were out of the house, escorted safely by Shiro, who Lance could not keep his eyes off of.

The moment they stepped out onto the grass they both had an armful of Pidge barreling towards them.

“Y’all are idiots, holy shit,” Pidge had yelled at them, pounding their tiny fists into their chests angrily.

“Ow, Pidge, injured here.” Keith had muttered, still a little bitter about the way Lance’s face was bright red when Shiro went to check for injuries on him. When Keith spoke, Shiro’s head snapped up and he immediately went to his brother.

“How bad is it?” Shiro said, motioning for Hunk to come over with a first aid kit in hand.

“Uh…” Keith tried to lift his shirt and winced. Shiro’s brow furrowed.

“Holy shit, Keith.” Lance’s eyes were back on him, extremely concerned. Keith was a little smug about having Lance’s attention again, for some damn reason. Why was he–

“Oh.“ Keith’s lips slowly slunk into a devilish grin. He couldn’t mention it in that exact moment–not with everyone around–but he’d be damned if he wouldn’t say anything the second he got the chance.

The hospital was a blur, but Keith was able to zone out while his side got patched up, and was finally able to process what had happened. Sort of. He was at least able to think about it a little bit, but in the end, he boxed away thoughts of his mother for another, more mentally stable day, choosing to instead remember how Lance smelled like fresh flowers when he was near, and how soft his hands were when they held his face.

Keith shouldn’t have been allowed out of the hospital so quickly, but they made it happen somehow, probably because of Shiro. They’d all decided to go out for a celebratory picnic at the park, because apparently Hunk cooked a lot when he was stressed, and was making sandwiches nonstop for the few hours Keith was in the hospital.

Lance had already told the others what had happened on their end–with a lot of embellishment, and suspiciously leaving out the confession and the appearance of Keith’s mother. In turn, Pidge told them what happened to themselves and Hunk: they’d been chased around by the ghost, and it smashed all their equipment, but they were able to get out through a boarded up door that Hunk apparently “shredded with his bare hands”, though they panicked when they realized Keith and Lance weren’t with them and immediately called Shiro.

Eventually, Keith noticed that Lance had wandered off away from the group. Keith searched for him, also sneaking away to follow where the other was. Sitting in the bed of Keith’s truck with a blanket from the backseat, Lance was staring at the slowly pinkening sky with a far-away look on his face.

“Party too boring for you?” Keith said casually, laughing a little as Lance jumped.

“Oh, hey Keith,” Lance replied, smiling. “How’s your side?”

“It’ll be fine.” Keith bit his lip, risking a chance by moving to sit next to Lance. His legs dangled off the side, and Lance’s were curled up under him criss-cross. “So…today has been fucking insane.”

“Oh Christ. Understatement of the damn year. Worst haunting of my life, I never want to step foot anywhere near another house that’s more than fifty years old ever again.”

“I keep thinking about everything that had happened…I know it’s all over but…” Keith sighed, noting how Lance looked at him a little worried, “…I feel like there’s something we haven’t finished…”

Keith shifted to face Lance more fully, one of his legs lifting to rest on the other side of Lance’s body in the truck. Keith leaned in slowly, a crooked grin on his face. He felt Lance’s breath on his face, and the stumble in its rhythm when Keith moved closer. Looking into Lance’s pretty blue eyes he saw them focusing on Keith’s mouth before flicking up to meet his eyes.

“It might be the painkillers messing with me, but I distinctly remember it went a little something like this…” Keith gently took Lance’s hands and placed them on his own face. Lance’s tongue darted to wet his lower lip before he made a quiet, frustrated noise and pulled Keith’s face to his own–just like he did before, only this time, Keith met him with equal fervor, arms coming to rest on Lance’s waist and tugged him closer, Lance lifting onto his knees to slot in between Keith’s thighs. Their kiss was warm and slow. When they pulled back, Lance’s face had a dazed looking grin, and Keith felt bubbly and gooey in his chest, knowing he had the same goofy smile.

“So…wanna go out for some coffee or something?” Lance asked impishly.

“I just saved your skinny ass from an evil ghost, the least you could do is take me out,” Keith replied, just as playful.

“Dork.” Lance leaned his head onto Keith’s chest, relaxing like a lazy cat while Keith’s arms came to circle around him. Keith reached over to drape the blanket over both of them, and Lance sighed contently as he snuggled up closer. They whispered stupid jokes to each other as they watched the sunset.

[choco-chip-cookie]

BabyDaddy!Cal Pt. 14

A/N: Yall.....this chapter is wild lmaoo. That's all I can tell you, plus there's A LOT of dialogue so sorry, but not sorry. Today marks my second day of school and due to being an AP/honors student I literally already have hmwk and stuff, but I’ll try to get the next chapter out at least by this weekend. As always get this to 100 notes and PLEASE send feedback because I need to know your reactions to this cause y'all funny asf. I hope you love bugs enjoy💕

Also, this takes places a few weeks later since a lot of you get confused with the timing. They've already moved into their new apartment and she's almost eight months pregnant now.

**WARNINGS**: Sooooo much profanity

Parts: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty{END}

"Joy, this is so good." You practically moaned as you stuffed your mouth full of alfredo.

"I'm glad you like it, but slow down, Y/N." she laughed, placing a kind hand onto your shoulder.

With you being seven and a half months pregnant, Joy and Mali thought it was the perfect time to have a baby shower. The two of them had took the time to cater everything themselves and everyone else pitched in on multiple gifts that would later come in handy. Some of your other friends had also passed by to congratulate both you and Calum as well as leave a gift for you. David had even said he'd help Calum and the boys out in getting the nursery together for your baby girl.

"Y/N, if you choke and die I'm going to kill you." Calum joked as he sat in front of you, leaning his head on your knees.

"I'm sorry, but it's amazing. Have you had any?"

"I have."

He looked up to watch you amusingly as you closed your eyes, relishing in the taste of the creamy sauce. Calum couldn't help but to stare at you in awe. He thought that you looked beautiful at that moment, sitting in your white dress with your natural curly fro falling onto your shoulders and your melanin skin practically glowing gold. You paid no mind to his staring due to being so focused on the plate in front of you and he couldn't help but to fall in love with you more. With a slight chuckle, he leaned closer to wipe the corner of your mouth with his finger, sticking the digit in his to clean it afterwards.

"Thank you." You laughed, leaning in to place your lips on his.

"I love you a lot, yanno?" He grinned at you."

"I know."

"I don't think you do." He shook his head."Words can't explain how much I love you."

"Boy, you betta stop." You warned with a teasing smile."Don't make me jump you right here."

"I'm all for it." Calum laughed and sat back in his seat with open arms.

Your moment was soon interrupted when Ashton came over to you both with a nervous expression on his face as he said,"Calum, someone's outside for you."

"I'll be right back, Y/N." The Māori promised and jogged off somewhere in the house.

"Ashton." You spoke and stopped the older boy in his tracks.

The blonde slowly turned around and just like he had been doing for the last few weeks, he avoided your gaze. Ashton hadn’t spoken to you or even so much glanced your way in the last few weeks and you thought it was beyond strange since you two were usually so close.

"Why won't you talk to me? Or even look at me?"

"No reason."

"Ash..."

"I gotta go." He walked away quickly leaving you to sigh.

After you had finished your meal you began to mingle with your friends once again and you even played a few baby shower games. Surprisingly Felix and Luke were winning the majority of them and that strange occurrence made it all that much more enjoyable. It wasn't until you noticed that Calum was still missing did things start going downhill. Once you checked all around the house you remembered that he had a guest so you peeked out of the curtains to see if he was still there. To your dismay he was, but he wasn't alone.

"Oh hell nah!" You laughed as you flung the door open, storming towards your boyfriend and his ex."You gotta be fuckin' kidding me, Calum! At our baby shower?!"

"Y/N, I don't know why she's here okay?! She just showed up!"

"How did she even know we were here?" You questioned and crossed your arms.

"Ah, you're the girlfriend? Nice to meet you, Y/N, I've heard a lot about you." Nia smirked and held out her hand and laughed when you smacked it away.

"Bitch, I might be pregnant, but I'll still beat yo ass."

At this point in time everyone had slowly emerged outside of the house or were watching from the doorway. Who would've thought that of all things that could happen on this day, Nia would show up and ruin the baby shower. Nia of all people.

"Whatever." Nia rolled her eyes and continued her conversation that was interrupted."Now, you promised me that we would go to that event today and-"

"Nia that was before- You know why!" He shouted and you furrowed your eyebrows together.

"You told me you stopped talking to her, Calum!"

"Babe, I did!"

"Did you really?" Nia laughed and Calum shot her a look."Don't be mad at me because your girlfriend's dumb."

You let out a loud laugh, looking at Connor who rapidly shook his head no. He knew you were three seconds from grabbing the girl by her throat, and he refused to let you fight while carrying Nugget. It just wasn't going to happen.

"Oh, its you two again." Nia glared at Connor and they seemed panicked as you gave hem a curious look."Be glad I didn't call the cops."

"What?" You questioned them and they looked down at the ground. "When the hell did you meet her?"

"Nia, can you please just go?" Calum plead.

"No, Calum, I can't. I'm tired of playing this little game with you, okay? You can't just come see me and vent about your little girlfriend and use me only to go back to her and expect me to forget okay? You promised me today and I had been looking forward to it, but you blew me off for your whore of a girlfriend's baby shower! You don't even know if it's yours!"

"This bitch got me fucked up." You laughed and took off your earrings, tossing them to the side along with your sandals."You got so much shit to say, hoe, run up."

Connor and Felix came over to grab each of your arms to keep you from getting any closer to Nia then you were. Nia backed away with a smirk and continued to argue with Calum as if you weren't a threat to her, not knowing that you'd give her the ass whooping of a lifetime.

"Y/N, calm down!"

"Nah, fuck all that! She came over here like she wasn't gon' get her ass whooped! I don't give a fuck if I'm pregnant, bitch, I'll throw hands regardless!"

The others watched the drama happen with wide eyes and dropped jaws. No one was as shocked as Calum's family, however ,due to the fact that they had known nothing about how you reacted when you were angry nor that Calum was seeing Nia. His dad knew of course, but he didn't fully understand the extent of the situation.

"Y/N, stop!" Connor cried out as you jerked away and ran up on her, thanking God that Calum caught you before you reached Nia.

"She's fucking crazy." Nia laughed as she crossed her arms and eyed you in disgust.

"Yeah, come a lil closer and I'll show you crazy. Keep playin' with me and imma beat yo ass. That's on my mama, hoe." You laughed."Fuckin' 'round with my boyfriend and shit and have the nerve to call me a hoe."

"You clearly don't know how much Calum doesn't care for you." Nia giggled and you wanted her neck more than ever at this point.

"Nia, please-" Calum felt near tears as he knew this was it. She was going to tell you. He knew everything was over the minute he'd done what he did. He should've told you himself weeks ago.

"You want to know where your boyfriend had been all that time? He was with me in my bed." She outed and Joy felt disappointment flood her body, her hand coming to rest over her heart.

The upset mother gave Calum a disappointed look before turning around and disappearing into her home, her husband soon following. His friends of course had already known that Calum had cheated due to either finding out themselves or being told. Mali soon realized that the others knew as she looked around and saw everyone looking down at the ground or either staring at Jodie with their eyes full of sympathy. You broke away from Calum and looked up at him with the look he had been trying to avoid for weeks: sorrow and hatred.

"Yeah, that's right. Calum's been coming over to my condo and he gave me the best orgasm of my life, and you want to know what's insane? He keeps saying how much he loves you and regrets it. Absurd right?" She laughed at the dumbfound expression on your face. "Who's the dumb bitch no-"

You didn't even allow Nia to finish her sentence before you'd punched her in the nose with all of your strength. You watched as she leaned over with blood leaking from her nose, looking up at you as if you were crazy.

"You've got five seconds to leave before I beat yo ass. I'm really about to snap on you." You tried to steady your breathing.

This couldn't be happening to you right now. Calum couldn't have been cheating on you, there's no way. Then again, all of the signs were there. The distance, the kissing up to you and showering you with gifts, the late texts and missed phone calls at night. He felt guilty, that's why he had been acting that way.

"Y/N, baby-" the boys as well as Mali gasped as you punched Calum as well. You didn't stop at one either, you couldn't stop. Your hands kept flying towards him, not caring whether you hit his face or his chest, as long as you were punching him.

"Y/N!" Connor grabbed your arms when you went to hit your lover again.

"Fuck! I deserved that."Calum held his cheek and massaged it.

They'd never seen you at this level of angry. You were so infuriated to the point where you were calm. Your face held no emotion and you had a couple of tears slip down your cheeks as you stared at Calum with nothing but hatred in your eyes. You began to walk in the opposite direction and Calum's eyes welded up with tears as he quickly followed behind you.

"I'm sorry, okay? I-I don't know why- I was so drunk and-and-" The Māori stumbled over his words, whimpering when you pushed his hand away as he tried to stop you." It only happened once, I swear. I've regretted ever since it happened, princess, I'm sorry."

"Go fuck yourself." Connor narrowed his eye at Calum."How dare you treat her like this? She gives her all for you and all you do is bitch about everything and then have the nerve to go cheat on her! Then every single time you come crawling back crying with apologies to be together again after you've ruined what you two had for the umpteenth time!" He shouted and Calum couldn't help but to cry. "Not this time, Calum! I refuse to let you keep hurting her and Nugget!"

Calum knew he fucked up big time, especially since you were so quiet. You always had so much to say, especially when angry, and Calum would kill to hear your accentuated southern accent as you yelled at him in rage. You only stared the boy in his brown orbs while Connor held you into his side. You didn't speak a word, you didn't even sob. You were just silent.

"God, I pray the baby is Luke's so she doesn't have to deal with your sorry ass anymore. You're a piece of shit." Connor finished his rant and you finally broke away from your best friend.

You went through the house and gathered all of your personal belongings, ignoring Joy and David's pleas for you to sit and talk to them. Your friends all watched as you climbed into your Jeep and started it up, rolling the window down as Connor jogged over to the car.

"Don't do anything stupid, okay?" He sighed out and  you simply nodded your head."Promise?"

"Promise." Your usually loud and confident voice came out as a whisper.

You reached around your neck to unhook the necklace Calum had gave you and tossed it outside of the window, not even watching to see where it landed.

"Y/N, please!" Calum cried out for you, but you simply blocked him out by rolling up the windows.

Then you drove away, not knowing where you were going or would end up

It had been exactly two weeks, three days, and seven hours since the last time anyone heard from you. After everything that went down at Joy's house you just disappeared and to say that your friends were worried was an understatement. You hadn't responded to anyone's texts or calls and  even the fans noticed that you were gone since you were always on social media, so your absence was missed.

Calum wasn't handling your disappearance well, fearing that you may have been hurt or even done something that would hurt yourself. All of his friends hated him, your friends hated him, even his own family wouldn't talk to him. He just sat in his new apartment all alone praying that you'd come back to him, praying that you'd forgive him, but  he knew it wouldn't happen. You were done. That was the last straw. After everything he'd put you through during this pregnancy and even back when he was just your sugar daddy, you finally called it quits for good. He knew that this was it and he hated himself for it. As Calum sat in his bed moping he began to think of how he felt after waking up next to Nia.

"Oh God..."Calum groaned from the pounding in his head. When he sat up and examined what he realized was Nia's bedroom, events from the night before began flashing through his mind and he prayed that it was just a dream.

As Nia walked into her room naked and gave Calum a flirty wink, regret and guilt began to drown him and he moved quickly to get dressed.

"What's the point of being in a hurry now?" She chuckled.

"This can't be happening. This didn't happen."

"Oh, but it did," she ran her fingers down his now covered chest,"and you loved every single second."

"I was drunk! You took advantage of me!"

With a roll of her eyes, she plopped onto her bed and said,"Whatever. You knew what was going on and let me do it."

"No, I-I....fuck! " he shouted."Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!"

Nia only laughed at his distress and although Calum never wanted to lift a hand to a girl, he really wanted to hit her. She was enjoying this, this is what she wanted to happen all along and he was too stupid to know. Ignoring her advances meant nothing when he was drunk, he knew it was wrong and let it happen anyway. He could've stopped her.

"We- I can't see you anymore."

"Why, because you slept with me? You could have me anytime you like, Cal, she doesn't have to know."

"No, Nia! I fucking love my girlfriend and-"

"If you loved her you wouldn't have fucked me."

She smirked when she saw his face fall and he didn't say another word as he tugged his clothes back on before scurrying out of the house.

Calum had got into his car and sped off quickly before anyone had noticed him, blinking away tears ever so often. Eventually the Māori pulled over to the side of the road due to his emotions overwhelming him, leaning his head on the steering wheel to cry.

The boy couldn't help but to wonder how people live with themselves after cheating on their partner. Calum physically felt pain in his chest after he realized what he had done and it ate away at him until it was finally brought to light. Now it was eating away at him that you've left him for good.

So, here he was lying on the couch of his apartment crying silently and hoping that maybe you'd give him another chance.