this is the worst project i took up and now i can't stop someone stop me

anonymous asked:

Got anything fluffy for Lance and Pidge?

[I’m writing Dualityverse fluff ficlets! (Because the latest chapters have been pure angst.)] [Read them all here.]

Set somewhere between chapters 9 and 13 of Somplace Like Home.


For once, nearly all of the paladins were sleeping. Shiro had dragged Matt away from his holoprojector with its model of Shiro’s cybernetic arm sometime around midnight, and Hunk had turned in around the same time. Keith and Allura had worn each other out on the training deck; Zelka, the Galra refugee who had become Coran’s lieutenant, had relived him for the night. And Shay was actually responsible enough to go to sleep on her own. (Miracle of miracles.)

As far as Lance could tell, it was just him and Pidge left chasing the cryptid of a restful night’s sleep.

Lance had tried to sleep, really he had, but Pidge had asked to use the headphones/mp3 player they’d rigged up for Lance back when all this began. Music helped them focus on coding, apparently, and Altean ear buds (ear worms more like) were, “among the ten worst sensory experiences in the universe.” (Pidge’s words, though Lance tended to agree.)

Lance had been happy to hand the headphones over, not least of all because they were Pidge’s in the first place. But tonight his mind just wouldn’t shut up, and his sleep mask alone wasn’t enough to trick himself into passing out.

In all honesty, he’d expected Pidge to have turned in sometime in the hour or two Lance had spent tossing and turning, his mind jumping from the unfinished sewing projects on his desk to refugees sleeping two floors below to the Blue Lion, powered down for the night but still aware enough to run off across the stars at the beckoning of Lance’s semi-conscious wanderlust.

When the insomnia finally crossed the threshold from “mildly annoying” to “Keith levels of stab-itude,” Lance groaned and dragged himself out of bed, fully expecting to go down to a dark workstation and grab the unattended headphones with zero interference. He could always return them to Pidge in the morning.

But Pidge was still up when Lance reached Green’s hangar, their head silhouetted in the lonely light of their desk lamp. They sat with their back to the door, headphones on, and screamed loud enough to rouse the dead when Lance lifted one side of the headphones and whispered, “Do you have any idea what time it is, you little night terror?”

[continued below]

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