fic rec friday 43
hello and welcome to fic rec friday! where, on friday, i rec five of my favourite fics.
These Walls Have Ears by notverystraight
Before Lance’s friends arrive at his apartment for their weekly movie night, Keith is in Hunk’s car on the phone to Lance, trying to explain why they’re late, again.
Mid conversation, Keith drops his phone under the seat.
Assuming Lance has hung up, Pidge and Hunk start pestering Keith about certain feelings that he may be harboring, leading to some quite personal confessions.
Little do they know, Lance has not hung up, and is listening in on every word. Shenanigans ensue.
the second best part of this fic is how sweet and funny this is. this fic is blushy and silly and dorky and so so so!!! it is just fun and garrison trio my love. the BEST part of this fic is lance knowing hes hot shit
2. That Won't Last, He's Gay and She's An Alien by notverystraight
Lance didn’t know what he’d expected to see when he came onto the Garrison’s training deck, but it definitely wasn’t this.
Keith was panting with exertion, pinning someone to the ground with the edge of his training sword just brushing their neck. And by someone, Lance meant Acxa, one of Lotor’s old half-Galra generals.
Or, Lance walks in on Keith and Acxa sparring. He has not-so-mixed feelings about it.
usually every jealousy trope fic i read induces the PHATTEST eye roll literally of all time but this one made me laugh lol. its just such a ridiculous concept and its fun basically. also krolia lowkey being a thot is hilarious
3. Go the Distance by orphan_account [EXPLICIT]
Keith is a sprinter, Lance runs long distance. Despite not competing against each other directly and despite the fact that they're training to bring glory to the same high school track team, the two end up becoming rivals who are wholeheartedly committed to victory. Along the way, however, they find themselves awfully sidetracked by the other's inspiring legs--er, skills. Much fluff and smut and no angst.
bro lance is SUCH a goober 😭😭 he gets himself into the most embarrassing situations and there is truly no one he can blame but himself. honestly this one is such a fun read and if the explicit warning bothers you, it's not the whole fic! you can easily skip it. the rivalry and getting together is just as fun and stupid as you'd expect from them truly
4. Haunted House Hang-Up by Creatortan
Keith runs a paranormal investigation 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.
oh my LORD i love this. nd team? check. supernatural fuckery? check. cute flowery lance? check. dorky suave keith? check. side of hot firefighter shiro? check. just an 11/10 in general top notch
5. Rambling by Creatortan
Lance was a talkative person, and he thought he had accepted that.
no seriously bc the Can't Shut Up Syndrome is the Worst side effect of adhd and other nd's tbh. i hate the way you're excited and you can feel yourself start to build and trip over your words but it doesn't matter bc it's so background! there's so much cool shit ur sharing!! and then you see the eyeroll or the shrug and it just comes crashing back on you so so quickly and hard and. god. this fic captured that so well
that’s it for today!! i’ll see y’all back next friday for the next fic rec post!!!
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Tick tock, tick tock
The noise that clocks usually make, though not this one. This clock was the generic clock that every classroom in the school had in the corner. A silent clock with a standardized, minimalist design. Lance imagined that it made noises as it spun.
Why is Lance focused so much on a clock? He doesn't know. One thing he does know is that he's ahead on classwork in this class and that means that the teacher couldn't care less with what Lance does as long as it isn't loud.
So he drifted off, lost in thought as he stared at that clock from his seat in the far back. While he did so, he twirled a pencil in his hands. Suddenly, the sensation of the pencil slipping out of his grasp. He'd accidentally flung the damn pencil all the way across the room.
Click clack, click clack
The sound of black leather boots moving across the vinal tiles. Very pretty things, they would be if they weren't so worn. You can tell that they're loved. The soles were tall. Combat boots.
The combat boots were owned by a secretly scrawny, pale boy who sat in the very front. He wore loose ripped jeans with chains hanging down from the belt loops and an oversized MCR hoodie which, like the boots, looked well loved. As Lance's eyes wandered higher up the boy's figure, he couldn't help but notice that the boy's dark black hair was tied up in a small ponytail.
Lance tried to focus really hard on memorizing what the boy looked like, knowing full well that he would remember the boy's features anyway. He never does. His brain's just messed up like that.
Lance got a little distracted again. It's not his fault. It's just the clacking of the boy's boots. They're a little too loud. It's not like he needs to be doing something anyway. It's fine.
The cold sensation of his pencil's eraser being pressed against his face. He looked up to find the boy holding said pencil to his face.
"Hey, you uh- you dropped your pencil."
"O-oh. Than- thanks. Uhh Keith, right?"
"Y-yeah."
Lance was definitely a bit frazzled. Maybe Keith's boots wouldn't be the only thing about Keith that would be distracting him next time.
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*Boop* Keith's outfit (He shops in the women's section, ok? I had someone asking about it so I have to specify)
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Pidge is getting annoyed at Lance for not paying attention on what she’s saying and playing his game, him claiming he can do both. Keith grills him about how his inattentive attitude is costing the team and Allura joins him, not as obviously cruel but her pauses and tone betray her faux calm. Hunk tries to defend his friend but can’t deny Lance has been getting later and later for things and keeps straying away during missions to do his own thing. Coran isnt there and if he was he’d probably be spinning their words against them in defence of (his favourite Paladin) Lance. But Shiro isn’t so quick to assume and judge and he’s had several years of experience and a few weeks of thinking to give him a much better view and opinion on what is wrong with Lance.
“Everyone give us the room, I need to talk to Lance.” Allura looks happy about this, Keith almost relived and Pidge and Hunk look a bit nervous, worried their friend is going to get yelled at. Lance himself looks like he’s already been yelled at, looking at Shiro with wide eyes and chewing his lip. Allura goes to say something, probably about how she thinks it’s good he will talk to him about his behaviour or that she thinks the team should all hear but he cuts her off, “I won’t ask again. The room, please.” She looks taken aback and sulks as she leaves with the others.
Alone in the Lions bay with Lance he gives the other a soft smile and walks up to him, putting hand on his shoulder to show he means no harm. Lance looks confused, probably expecting a yelling, not smiles and affection. Shiro speaks before he gets the chance to overthink himself into a state, “Lance, I’ve had a lot of students in my time and I don’t mean to diagnose you or make you feel bad, but I think you might have ADHD. It could be why it’s so hard for you to focus on one single thing and why you don’t remember the same details as everyone else. It could also explain why you get frustrated so easily. What do you think?” Lance goes from confused, to thoughtful, to baffled and finally to realisation. He looks up at Shiro with wide eyes and then grins, big and wide and shouts out, “that’s what’s wrong with me! I’m not dumb, just neurodivergent!” Shiro doesn’t expect the hug Lance throws his way and lands on his ass with a bundle of Lance in his arms.
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Sleeping has never been easy for Lance. Even as a baby – Mamá had told him that it was a rare night that he slept more than three hours. That followed him all throughout childhood and teenhood, too. He has several specific memories of sneaking out in the dead of night to collect shells that were abundant after the tide pulled in during the early hours of the morning. It’s not that he never sleeps, or anything – usually he makes himself lie in bed for at least 8 hours, so he’s at least rested.
But sometimes he’s just bored. And fucking around at night is fun! It’s so quiet and still, it makes everything feel like an adventure.
Tonight, especially, there’s no chance of him staying in bed and doing nothing. There’s no chance of sleep, either – he’s too excited! In – he checks his watch – ten minutes, he turns eighteen. An adult! In the eyes of the law! Yeah, sure, he’s in actual space fighting a literal war, so it doesn’t matter at all, but still. He’s allowed to be excited.
He taps his hands erratically, humming to himself, trying to pass the time. After what feels like ten minutes, or close to it, he checks his watch again, and – aw, man. It’s only been thirty-four seconds.
He stands up, spinning around until he makes himself dizzy, collapsing in a pile of giggles on the floor. He lies flat on his back and waits until the room stops spinning, and then some. He checks his watch again.
Nine more minutes until midnight.
Seriously? he thinks, Is time passing extra slowly tonight, or something?
He stands back up, jumping and hopping around, trying to think of something fun (or at least minorly amusing) he can do for nine minutes. In the end he decides on just parkouring around the bridge, leaping over chairs and doing cool run-flips off the wall. At one point he tries to use the corner of the wall to vault up to the ceiling, even though he knows it’s futile. He does not reach the ceiling (as it is something like 100 feet up in the air), but he does manage to get high enough that it hurts a little when he falls down, which is dope. (The footprint he leaves about 20 feet up the wall is less dope, and he is going to safely blame it on Keith as soon as possible).
After what he feels is at least ten-ish minutes of dicking around, he checks his watch and is delighted to find that he’s correct – fifteen seconds to midnight! Fifteen seconds until he’s eighteen! He starts counting down aloud, in the quietest whisper he can currently manage at this level of excited (which, honestly, is not that quiet, but if him jumping off the walls didn’t wake the team up then he’s probably fine).
“...Ten! Nine! Eight! Seven! Six! Five! Four! Three! Two! ONE!”
As soon as the last count is out of his mouth, before he even has the breath to cheer, a video pops up in front of him.
Lance blinks. “Huh?”
The video is staticky for a second, millions of black and white dots covering the hologram-screen thingy (Altean tech is wack, man). It goes on for a few more seconds, enough that Lance can feel some pressure building behind his eyes, but luckily the static blips away just before a headache starts to form. In place of the static, there’s a man. Lance squints.
Wait.
“Luis?”
The man in the video chuckles, and Lance startles, just now realising that it is a video call.
“I’m not Luis,” says the man, and Lance’s jaw drops, because he knows that voice, even if it’s a little deeper than he’s used to.
“Me?!”
The man – Lance! Older Lance! – laughs again, smiling brightly, and that’s himself, alright. Lance knows what his own damn smile looks like.
“Yep. I’m future you.” Future Him winks. “Pretty hot, huh?”
Lance tilts his head, considering. Future Him smirks and allows it.
Honestly...yeah. He kind of kills it. His face is still pretty and angular, his eyes as brown as ever, and his smile looks the same – but there are definitely some changes. Apparently he goes for a sort-of undercut, in the future, and he has a wicked scar across his left eye. He really does look like his brother, too, only way prettier (sorry, Luis).
“Yeah,” Lance agrees after a few seconds of inspection, “we’re still hot.”
Future Him winks one more time, before his expression drops into something much more serious.
“I didn’t actually call you just to give you a peek of your future serve –”
“Yeah, no shit.”
Future Him ignores that particular comment, although Lance is satisfied to see the corner of his mouth twitch in the way Lance knows damn well means he’s trying not to laugh.
“– I came here to warn you.”
Lance panics immediately, dashing to his chair in the bridge, preparing to pull the alarm and wake the rest of the team. “Why wouldn’t you fucking lead with that, if Zarkon is going to attack we’re gonna need way more time to prepare –”
“It’s not an attack!” Future Him rushes to assure. “Sorry, my bad. I shouldn’t’ve worded it that way. I’m here to warn you, but you’re in no immediate danger.”
Lance glares at him. “Did the future make us dumb?”
Future Him chuckles again, nervously this time, scratching the back of his neck. “I really am sorry. I’m not supposed to say much, but ‘warning’ doesn’t mean ‘Zarkon’ for us anymore. I didn’t think about how that would affect you, dude. My bad.” Future Him says the last part with an embarrassed shrug, but all Lance feels is his whole body light up with a fiery hope.
Zarkon is no longer a concern for us, in the future?
“Really?” he asks weakly. “We end up fixing this shit, eventually?”
“And we get to see Mamá and everyone again,” Future Him adds softly.
Lance sits with that information for a few minutes, feeling something heavy and painful, a weight he didn’t fully realise he was carrying, dissolve in his chest.
He’s gonna see his family again!
After giving him a few minutes to process, Future Him’s face turns serious again. “I do still have a warning for you, though, and it’s kind of time-sensitive.”
“Go for it,” Lance says, mission mode activated. (Despite what the team may tease, they all know Lance can be serious).
“Okay!” Future Him leans out of frame a little, and the sound of rapid typing is faintly audible. “I just sent you a file. Check your station.”
Lance does, on it finding a document with nothing but a list of several coordinates, only a few that he recognises.
“...Coordinates? What for?”
Future Him’s face turns hard, but there’s something… off, about it. Lance can’t quite pin it down.
“This is a list of places you must, never, ever visit,” Future Him responds gravely. “Ever. Just completely off-limits. You’ll thank me, promise.”
Never… ever?
“...Right,” Lance says slowly. He crosses his fingers behind his back. “Of course. I’ll make sure I avoid these places. Got it.”
Future Him brightens, clapping his hands excitedly. “Wonderful!” he chirps. “Anyways, sorry I can’t stay for longer, but I have some stuff to do. Pidge said I couldn’t tell you much, anyhow, something about the space-time continuum. See ya!”
He waves, and Lance waves back, and then the hologram disappears. Lance waits a few minutes, looking around, just in case Future Him decides to pop back up.
When no future video pops up, Lance grins, uncrossing his fingers and sending the coordinates list to his holopad. He scrambles up from his chair, rushing out of the room and straight to Blue’s hangar.
He really must have gotten dumber in the future, because Future Him is a moron if he thinks Lance is not going to hit each one of these locations immediately.
In order, too.
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