@lovelylangst, I saw your idea that Voltron is hit by a spell by Haggar that makes them all revert to their original languages and I loved it so much I made a fic out of it.
I don’t know if you like your ideas being written out, so if you don’t, tell me and I’ll take it down.
Also, I kinda changed the idea a bit, so basically Pidge is perceptive and Allura is an oblivious bastard.
I don’t usually write ff alright.
Word count - 2000+
Pidge stumbled out of her lion, her bayard clasped to her chest, wheezing. Her voicebox felt like it had been clapped in hot iron, and black lightning sparked painfully from her armour where Haggar’s spell had struck Voltron. It had lanced all the way through the metal, and Pidge had heard Hunk whimper in pain.
Keith was sliding down Red’s leg. Some of his armour was shattered - no doubt from the hit - and his helmet was off. Sweat stuck to his forehead. His violet eyes were wide, and full of fear. He didn’t seem to want to look at her.
Hunk and Lance were nowhere to be seen - hiding out still in their lions, probably, like a mouse from a cat’s claws. Shiro eased himself out of his lion’s mouth. His helmet was off, too, but he looked unhurt. Voltron hadn’t won - but they’d escaped. For now, they were safe.
“Shiro! Pidge!” Allura came sprinting up to the hangar, her silvery hair flying behind her - she hadn’t bothered to tie it up. Coran was running behind her. “Lance!”
“He’s… He’s still in his lion, Coran,” stammered Pidge. “Oh, God, that was a hit… I feel all weak.”
“It must have been the komar,” deduced Coran, his hands a flurry at the scanner. “That spell Haggar devised. Do you feel like you’re going to pass out? Are you hurt?”
Pidge shook her head, shakily. “No,” she muttered. “I’m f-fine. Just shaken.”
“Keith? Shiro?” asked Allura. Her eyes were wide. “Are you hurt?”
Keith shook his head. Shiro opened his mouth to say something, but Keith, swift as a whip, stuck his hand over Shiro’s jaw. Shiro glared at him, and pulled his arm away.
There was something different about Keith’s voice.
It seemed more accented, sounding a little like Shiro’s when he mumbled to himself in Japanese. Keith didn’t seem eager to say much. He had deactivated his bayard, and was staring at it like he’d lost purpose. Pidge felt a rush of fear, down to her toes. Something was different, and if Keith was acting on it, then something was not only different, it was wrong.
“Kīsu, sore o yame nasai -”
Shiro clamped a hand over his mouth.
Pidge glanced at him, curiously. “Shiro?”
Shiro’s eyes had gone terrified. His cheeks were pale as chalk.
“Shiro?!” Allura sounded scared, her hands tugging at her hair in apprehension. “What’s happened? What was that?”
“Japanese,” Pidge said, exchanging a look with Keith. “Shiro, are you okay? You look -”
She wanted to say like death, but she felt like it might be considered a bit too rude and out of place, seeing as they had just nearly died anyway. Shiro looked like he was going to throw up. Keith, standing beside Shiro, put his arm on Shiro’s shoulder, and led him away without a word.
“What’s going on?” spluttered Coran. He was tapping at the blue lion’s leg with his communicator. “The lions are running, but Hunk’s been knocked out and Lance just won’t leave his! What’s wrong?”
“I think,” said Pidge slowly, “that something is different.”
Slav came running in, just as the blue lion’s jaw opened. The noodle alien paused, his eyes round.
“Oh, so you survived,” he said. “The probability of that was highly unlikely. Are you sure you’re alive?”
“Yes, Slav,” muttered Pidge. “Go do something else now.”
Slav didn’t move. He twisted a whisker like tendril around his mouth with his top pair of arms, like the way Coran did.
Footsteps tapped behind her, and Pidge looked back.
Lance limped towards them, taking off his shattered helmet. One eye was bruised and puffy. His knee trembled under his body weight.
“Lance!” Pidge ran up to him, but before she reached him, he collapsed, smudging blood on the floor. Allura gasped, and ran to join Pidge beside him.
Lance’s body was battered with bruises. His eyes were closed, one swollen with blood and purple. His armour was a mess, but at least he was breathing.
“Is he okay?” Allura whispered.
“I think so,” Pidge confirmed. She took off her glasses and pressed the lens to Lance’s bruise to test the severity. While she did that, Coran helped a very dazed Hunk out of his lion. He looked confused, but unhurt. Better than Lance and Shiro, at least.
“Why was Shiro speaking Japanese?” Allura asked, in an offhand voice. Pidge looked up.
“Native language,” she shrugged. “People tend to switch to their native language when they’re shocked.”
“Really?” Allura sounded interested. “What’s yours?”
Allura sighed. “English, right?”
“Yeah,” Pidge admitted, looking a little guilty.
“How’s Lance?” Pidge asked.
Coran was standing by the healing pod, twisting his moustache. He started when Pidge spoke.
“Pidge! Oh, you scared me!” He wiped his forehead. “He’s alright. He wasn’t badly injured. An hour more, and he should be raring to go!”
Coran eyed her.
“How is Shiro?”
Pidge sighed. “Still in shock. Babbling to Keith in Japanese. Clear to God Keith doesn’t understand a word of it.”
“Oh, really?” Coran looked interested. “Had Keith spoken yet?”
“No…” Pidge suddenly realised where Coran was coming from, and a jolt of horror shook her. “No, Coran. That doesn’t happen to us. Besides, neither Keith nor Lance have spoken, and they have English as their first language.”
“Not Keith,” said Coran. “His family - ignoring the Galra side - come from Korea. They moved to Texas before he was born.”
“Fine, Lance then.”
Coran glanced at her, before saying, in a controlled voice:
“Druid magic is capable of many things, Pidge.”
“It’s different, certainly.”
“So, you’re saying…” Allura tapped her nails on the table. Around her, sat Pidge, Coran, and Slav.
“Yes, princess,” said Coran, not needing the question to be finished. “Earthlings have many languages. It’s totally possible.”
“That’s true,” admitted Slav. He fiddled with his fingers, his beaklike mouth quivering.
“Admittedly,” Allura said, “you could be right. But then why is Lance not speaking? He speaks English, doesn’t he?”
“Yes, princess,” said Pidge. “That, I don’t get. He’s biracial, Cuban-American… Maybe he speaks Spanish.”
Allura snorted. “Trying to get attention, more like.”
“Hey!” Pidge retorted. “Lance isn’t like that! Don’t go like that! When he’s breaking like that, it’s dangerous!”
“Pidge, he’s like that every day!” Allura complained. She looked away from Pidge’s angry face into Coran’s concerned one. “So, I chase down Lance, and then we wait for the magic to wear off?”
“If it wears off.”
Pidge glared at Slav. “You know, for someone who’s always complaining about the odds, your pessimism doesn’t exactly help.”
Pidge fought the urge to throw Slav out the airlock.
“Princess, your idea of ‘chasing down Lance’ doesn’t seem to work in my mind,” Coran fretted. “He’s earned some rest.”
“Which he has now had!”
“Y'know, Princess,” Pidge said, trying to relieve some tension, “maybe I should just go get Lance.”
“No,” said Allura, standing up, and brushing her hair behind her in a determined fashion. “He won’t take it seriously if you deliver it. I will.”
And before anyone could say anything, Allura left, shutting the door behind her.
Her fingers stung underneath the icy feel of the doorframe. The sky-blue light swept over the stooped figure hiding in the corner. Cloaked in an olive jacket.
“Lance?” Allura stepped cautiously forward, before gasping, and taking a few hesitant steps back.
Lance was crying.
The blue paladin sat hunched, her forehead on his knees and his tan hands wrapped over his face. Tears glittered on his hands like liquid diamond, rasping unintelligible words to the floor.
“Lance!” Allura said, for the third time, but now her voice filled with panic. She didn’t know why - Lance had always irritated her, even after he had stopped his stupid flirting game - but the Lance in front of her looked like the last kind of person to flirt with a princess. What she could see of the gleam of his blue eyes he was raw with sadness.
“Oh, my god,” Allura whispered. Lance didn’t look up - had he even heard her?
She heard footsteps behind her, and saw Pidge and Keith. Both of them looked stricken. Keith had his hands over his mouth as he hurried to Lance’s side. His eyes gleamed, and he looked horrified.
Pidge stood, her hands on her bayard. She looked angrily triumphant, accusing eyes on Allura, hissing, “I told you! I swear to god I warned you!”
“I - I…” Allura didn’t have the words. She bit her lip, shaken.
Keith was whispering words in Korean, his hands in Lance’s, trying to make him look at him, wiping at Lance’s tears with the hem of his cropped jacket. Allura caught a few words off the side.
“Ulji mal-ajuseyo. Jagiya, ulji ma.” He kissed Lance’s tear-streaked cheek and wrapped his arms around him.
Allura froze. Only speaking one language. Keith’s words were worthless when Lance didn’t know what they meant.
Lance’s eyes glowed a sharp, water blue through the darkness, fixed intently on Allura. He looked more angry than sad now. Suddenly, Allura felt a chill in her blood that had nothing to do with the cold castle.
“No tienes idea,” he spat. “¿Por qué me subestimas? Quiero que mires más allá de tus propias esperanzas por una vez.”
Only one language.
She had never been more wrong about someone.
Pidge had gasped a little at Lance’s words, but Keith didn’t move. He kissed Lance, on the lips this time. Tears shuddered down his face.
Allura took off running, not wanting to see anyone. She knew Lance’s tears came from more than just pain, of not having anyone understand him. The way he looked at her… It was her fault. All her fault.
When she reached her own room, she cried almost as much as she had seen Lance doing.
Pidge sat at Lance’s side.
She hadn’t known something for sure. Guesses weren’t good enough. She cursed herself.
Not knowing something certainly - that was different. Pidge didn’t like different things.
“Where is he?”
Pidge looked wary about telling Allura… Anything… About Lance’s position. He looked pretty broken from their encounter from yesterday.
“In his room,” Pidge said eventually. “Keith is with him.”
Allura nodded mutely.
“This is your fault, you know,” she said accusingly.
Allura sighed. “I know. I’ve never been more wrong about something.”
Pidge turned her head to the blueprints on her lap, and didn’t say anything.
“I was wrong,” Allura repeated. “I didn’t listen to you. Not to Keith when he said that Lance needed more recognition. He nearly died for Coran… God, if Coran had died..” Her eyes drifted off into space, but she made them stoic and rigid again.
“I don’t know a thing about Lance,” said Allura. “I didn’t pay enough attention to him - not even so I knew he loved Keith and Keith loved him back, not so I knew he cried like that… I was wrong. You were right. He didn’t speak because he couldn’t. But when Keith and the others didn’t try, I didn’t care, and Lance could easily have been unable to speak as much as the others. But no, I was stupid. I thought he was flunking. I was wrong. You were right, he was bilingual. Spanish is his main language. Worst of all, he couldn’t tell me… But would I have listened?”
Pidge didn’t stop Allura, idly listening to her words whilst tapping on the electronics.
“I was wrong,” she repeated. “You were right. It’s always you who’s right.”
Pidge blinked. Then she smiled, cocky.
“Me, always right?” she asked. “Yeah, that’s not different. That’s not different at all.”
thoughts on phanthony collab? i thought it was so good and they worked well together. i'll admit i was kind of nervous because phil's chemistry can be hit or miss with people but this was so nice and calm i loved it
yessss omg these american youtubers are the only ppl who apparently truly understand fan service and keep giving the people what we actually want!!!!!!! this vid was just 10 mins of phil being soft and fawning over a cute dog and also a cute boy :( i love it so much. their sense of humor actually rly did blend so well, and anthony was so receptive to phil being his quirky self and phil was so calm and gentle and not over-performing!!! plus like just the aesthetics alone are top-notch, the way anthony colors his videos is gorgeous, and they’re both beautiful humans, and phil in that jacket is nearly painfully lovely hahaha. i just wrote out thoughts on my fav moments while watching so i’ll paste those:
lmao @ anthony smooching the drawing of phil right on the mouth. why is he so flirtatious with both dan and phil it’s genuinely so funny
phil sounds .. so good …. over the phone
‘phil, i was trying out a new nickname for you. phil .. me up’ damn anthony is relentless, i need to take notes
that firm hug when phil first arrives, wow what a man
at 3:48 when they’re figuring out how they’re going to make the sweater and phil just starts barking and tickles anthony’s neck .. i love that he is just so phil and doesn’t rly try to filter that, like he is so unique and somehow mixes that in w being touchy and cute whenever he’s around people and it’s so fun to watch how other ppl react to it tbh. i love that anthony just rolls with it and giggles and plays along. this + all the flirting is why the chemistry is There people
i love that the first things phil thinks of for how to make the sweater special are glitter and sparkles
phil can’t whistle. did we know that? i don’t think i knew that
phil’s shaky hands :( he’s always had shaky hands when he’s slightly under pressure and you can see it in videos sometimes and i think it was so cute that he kind of pointed it out himself here and then just laughed and brushed it off :((( i love him
4:26 instantly iconic moment of phil almost calling anthony ‘dan’ but cutting himself off at the last moment hahahaha tragic
‘pet me anthony’ ok i can’t fault my mans for availing himself of this opportunity to just go all out and flirt w a pretty boy in his distinctly phil style
anthony joins the legions of men before him who have touched phil’s skin and instantly commented on how soft it is. phil immediately offers up that he moisturizes in the same proud tone as always and i am more in love than ever before and more bitter too bc when will phil do an actual comprehensive run-down of his skincare routine
‘let me phil you in’ … apparently he crossed a line with that one anthony looks disgusted ahahaha .. same tbh
5:53 phil listening to anthony talk with his hands pressed to his cheeks is maybe cuter than anything in this video
phil refusing to even write the word bitch and anthony nearly crying with laughter bc of it is a Big Mood
phil adding a doodle of some lips to the ‘chic bitch’ is an even bigger mood he’s so fucking funny and good omg
phil saying ‘helloooo’ to the pup :(((( end me :(
the cute high pitched voice he uses when he says ‘we made you a little sweater’!!!!!!!!!!!! fuck!!!!!!!!!! little sweater!!!!!!!!!! there are tears in my eyes!!!!!!!!
phil’s assessment: roux hates the sweater bc it has foul language and no glitter, and it’s made out of something anthony’s crotch has pressed against djfksdfjskdfj his mind is a marvel. this video is a marvel
i loved everything so much it was so soft and good :( feelin nothing but grateful to anthony for including dnp in such nice lil videos :((( truly a talent i owe him my life now
1.Once More, With Feeling Yuuri wakes up in Detroit after going to bed under heavy stress and emotional turmoil due to Victor’s declining mental health. Things are different. He’s dreaming, obviously. And in dreams, people can do what they want. So Yuuri decides to do what he wants. If only he could have accepted this new reality. Then the realization wouldn’t hurt so much later on. But ignorance keeps the pain of reality away.
2. Re: Yuri Katsuki Phichit Chulanont is fiercely loyal to his best friend Yuri Katsuki. So when he randomly gets a direct message on Instagram from one v_nikiforov, it’s only natural for Phichit to assume it’s a prank. That is until he comes to realize it’s not a prank.
3. Trade Your Heroes For Ghosts Having endured what was probably the worst day of his life, Yuuri wakes up with the hangover of a century and a desperate plea for the world to forget about his existence. Alas, the world has other plans. So does a certain Russian skater.
4. By My Side Things happen a bit differently after the banquet. Yuuri doesn’t actually forget everything. And he wants to see Victor again.
5. A Glittering Path Four times Yuuri made Viktor cry (happy tears, that is!), and one time (or more) they both cried. (You’re allowed to cry at a wedding, aren’t you? Especially if it’s your own.)
6. Winter Song Yuuri was aware that at some point — a moment in time he couldn’t quite place — Victor had become his boyfriend. There wasn’t a single instant when it happened. It was a slow awareness, as if Victor had silently been asking the question for months now, and Yuuri had been giving him the answer a little more with each passing day.
7. Lessons in Love All Viktor wants is for his son to be happy - and if that means spending countless hours at the ice rink, a million more in the ballet studio, and devotedly cheering for Katsuki Yuuri at every competition he enters, then that is precisely what he’ll do. He just didn’t expect to become a fan, too. (He didn’t expect to fall in love.)
8.The Spaces Shaped for You The paths they’d chosen after the Grand Prix Final wouldn’t be easy, particularly with Nationals just ten days away, but one thing was certain: no matter what happened, their paths would always come together in the end.
9. Bear Your Soul on the Ice
At age fourteen, Katsuki Yuuri had been determined to be Japan’s next great figure skating hope, but with no coach that would never happen, so his ballet instructor packs him up off to Russia to train with Yakov Feltsman. The Yakov Feltsman, otherwise known as the coach to rising figure skating star — and Yuuri’s idol — Viktor Nikiforov.
11. Makes the Heart Fonder This was going to be hard — they both knew that — but they would willingly take any of the punches thrown at them. It had been rough when Victor returned to Japan to be at Makkachin’s side, but they both pulled through. And, either by willingness or stubborn determination, they would manage, time and time again. But now— now when Victor was in Canada, and Yuri was in Russia on Victor’s side of their bed, where the pillows sighed his scent and his cologne, he missed the sound of his fiancé’s voice more than anything in the world.
12. With Fire in Their Eyes
Not applause. Screams. The light is wrong because a fourth of the ceiling projectors are missing. The sky is dark. No stars. Something gleams behind the broken sky. And moves. Something he can’t — won’t — something. Something that’s looking at him.
13. You can have everything…
Before the Grand Prix Final starts in Sochi, Yuuri finds Victor’s phone. He returns it— and hijinks and heavy flirtation ensue.
14. I’d rather be skating
Sometimes, when a muggle child gets an acceptance letter from a wizarding school, they say no. Victor Nikiforov would rather be skating. Yuuri Katsuki would rather be normal.
15. say not a word; I can hear you
“He was from Hasetsu,” Chris tells him quietly. “Oh.” Caught mid-laugh is a slight, young man with kind, brown eyes. He’s soft all around where edges should be, nothing like - nothing like a Ranger. “You think he’s gone back there? Really?” There’s a pause, Chris spinning his spanner around his knuckles. He shrugs. “I dunno, Yuuri’s always had a streak of crazy in him. So. Maybe.”
16. sharp dressed man
Victor’s such a peacock normally, and now he looks a bit like a half-molted one; glitzy fabric half-hidden under the sober visage of a respectable coach, skates exchanged for Yuuri’s gear.
17. to the winner goes the gold
In which Yuuri and Viktor are competing against each other in the following year’s Grand Prix Final, and they’re still (very much) smitten with each other.
19. falling through the ice Home. Home is Viktor’s sparse St. Petersburg apartment, which is now where Yuri keeps his clothes and his toothbrush and his silver medal, which Viktor hung above the fireplace, and his extensive collection of Viktor Nikiforov posters, because Minako had mailed every one of them from Hatsetsu. (Yuri had shoved them into a drawer, but Viktor put some of his favorites on the fridge, next to the photos he’d had printed of Yuri in his juniors costumes.) Home, where every time Viktor sees Yuri chattering excitedly to the triplets over Skype or hears Mari complain over the phone about the time difference, he feels guilty for keeping Yuri to himself, as if he’s the one stealing Yuri from the world now. “What will Viktor Nikiforov’s fans say if he falls like that in competition?” Viktor sighs, not moving. “What will his protégée and rival Yuri Katsuki say?”
20. never stop until the grave
Back in St Petersburg, Victor attempts to combine coaching Yuuri with preparing for his own return to competition. The spirit is willing but the flesh may be weak.
21. he meets me where i am
Something gold catches the light, drawing his attention. There’s a gold ring on Victor’s ring finger. “Ah,” Yuuri says, his heart giving a last squeeze, a futile reminder of the silly crush he once had. “Congratulations on your marriage,” he says, as cheerily as he can.
There are a lot of shorter pieces on this list, but nonetheless I’m grateful to the authors - and the artists! - who continue to provide high-quality content even though the anime isn’t airing right now. Has Season 2 been confirmed yet???
dipping your feet in the ocean, flowing white dresses, light sunburn, locked fingers, butterfly kisses, lounging around all day, gazing at the person you love
way it goes:
an organized day planner, bare feet on hardwood, your face hurting from smiling too long, black coffee, ballroom dancing, burning your fingers on a curling iron, a nineteenth century mansion
bleached hair, laying under a willow tree, chapped lips, screaming to the moon, bruises on your knees, eating frosting with your fingers, the smell of your first car
dark blue eyeshadow, fingers tangled in your hair, ripped jeans, the crinkles around you eyes when you smile, curly hair with glitter in it, stretching your back, happy crying
strawberry lemonade, a rickety ferris wheel, the sound of children laughing, two boys falling in love, the little sparks of light after you open your eyes
strong bourbon, dark lipstick stains on collarbones, pancakes being flipped, waking up early, lacy underwear, the cold side of the pillow
neon signs, glitter that looks a lot like tears, the smell of sweat and deodorant mixing, gucci clothes, a wedding where no one knows the bride and groom, catching fireflies in your front yard while the sun sets
stop-motion footage of a cherry tree blossoming, sailing in sunny weather, striped shirts, an old leather watch band, laughing softly, antique photos of your grandparents, getting your socks wet
sticking your hands out the window of a car, pushpins, handstands in the grass, orange soda, candy wrappers, the click of a camera shutter
cutting all your hair short, freshly starched collared shirts, cinching your belt a little too tight, the smell of sandalwood, a flat chest
the smell of rain on flower petals, firecrackers sizzling, spinning around til you get dizzy, vanilla ice cream, fluffy clouds, clear lip gloss, putting stickers on your cheeks
Mentioned side character death; Implied/referenced sex
When you haven’t written anything for a long time, and end up warming up with angst that’s not actually angst but if it is angst it has a very happy ending.
The first time Otabek sees Yuri cry is in the Grand Prix final in Barcelona.
He watches Yuri hide his face in his hands and collapse on the ice after finishing his free program, the thunder of applause and cheers making Otabek’s ears ring. When Yuri stands up to thank the audience there’s still tears in his eyes that glitter in the bright, harsh lighting. After the last bow Yuri manages to smile, and when he steps out of the rink he rubs his eyes with a sheepish expression on his face.
Their eyes meet, and Otabek gives Yuri a thumbs up. He swears he sees a lone tear roll down on Yuri’s cheek before he returns the gesture with a smile warm enough to make Otabek’s heart miss a beat.
Fuck it, Nesta thought, as she tossed aside the cup she’d been drinking wine from and brought the bottle to her lips. She took a long sip.
She sat alone on the roof of her building atop a thick blanket in the dark. She curled her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around them as she took another sip of wine.
She looked up at the sky. It would be starting soon.
A chilly, light breeze blew a strand of golden brown hair across her face. She tucked it behind her ear. She wore an oversized sweater and a pair of dark leggings. She wrinkled her bare toes into the blanket, maybe she should have worn socks.
She took another sip, thinking about the party in the House of Wind she was missing. She’d not wanted to get all dressed up just to stand on a balcony filled mostly with strangers. And she didn’t want to deal with her everyone playing buffer between her and Cassian. It was better this way. No one would have fun if she were there, and maybe this way he’d at least have fun.
Maybe he’d find someone to talk to, a female maybe—she took another swig of wine.
the moment after i cut myself loose from you
my seat was a puddle of tears in piercing crimson
for at least an hour, i must have been crying
if it helps:
i wrote the most wonderful things under your influence
part of you remains in my journals, like the corsage
pressed in their pages and the “i am not me without you”
burnt in the edges
if it helps:
for months on end my eyes were glitter
and my stomach sewn into knots of nostalgia
of how we met, of who we were to become
for months on end i swore — to my friends and
my own grave — i would never leave
if it helps
(and i hope it does)
while i cannot reciprocate the stabs
in your chest that you feel now
i felt them too (for months on end)
and i believe (honestly, truly)
you will feel them for someone else
in the form of glittery eyes
and journal entries talking of
Summary: Olympic hopeful Dean Winchester has always felt more at home in the water than he did on land. Pressured by his father to carry on his mother’s dream, Dean’s entire life has revolved around swimming and competing. Everything changes when he sustains a head injury in an accident at the pool and is left unable to swim. The fear of disappointing everyone in his life is heightened when he realizes his love of the water has been replaced by a strange talent for playing the piano. With the help of Castiel, the high-school dropout/weekend musician who runs a local music store, Dean learns to question everything he thought he knew about himself, his family, and his life. What the caterpillar calls the end of the world, the butterfly calls just the beginning.
- - -
Dean opens his eyes, and blinks, registering for the first time the damp tear tracks streaked down his face. He doesn’t know how long he’s been crying, but his sinuses ache enough to tell him it’s been a while. Reaching up to scrub the wetness away, Dean turns to face the person behind him.
The man from the behind the counter stands a few feet away, his hands shoved into the pockets of his black skinny jeans. Dean hadn’t noticed before, but he’s wearing a pale blue t-shirt with a colorful pony on the front, the words Rainbow Dash in glitter below it. Intricate designs—musical notation shot through with dark green vines and bright splashes of flowers—wind their way up both arms and disappear into his shirt sleeves. A single musical note drips from the right corner of his bright blue eyes and two silver balls frame the outer edge of his left eyebrow.
The man rocks back on his heels and clears his throat. “Holy fuck,” he says, his voice a deep, rolling timbre. “I’m glad Raph listened when I told him not to get rid of that piano.”
He steps forward and Dean shifts back, pressing himself against the keys and wincing at the discordant sound. “Sorry, I, ah, I saw it and—”
“Don’t apologize. We don’t get classically trained pianists in here, like, ever. That was fucking beautiful.” He pulls one hand out of his pocket and tugs at the hem of the too-small t-shirt where it’s pulling up, revealing a sliver of skin at his hip.
Dean follows the long fingers with his eyes. Piano keys cover the back of his hand, tattooed across his knuckles and down to the first joint. “I’m not—” Dean stands up, knocking the bench back against the piano, and edges away from the man. “I should go.”
“You don’t have to go. I’m Castiel,” the guy says, holding out his hand. “Where’d you study? Not K.U., not playing Satie like that. Tell me you didn’t go to Juilliard.”
Dean studies the man’s outstretched hand, then looks back up at his face. Dark stubble dusts his strong jawline, and Dean’s mouth goes dry. Despite the tattoos and the piercings and the fucking god-awful abomination of a t-shirt, he’s gorgeous, and Dean can’t breathe. He can’t breathe and he’s going to pass out and he doesn’t even know where the hell he is or how he got here. Sucking in a rasping gasp of air, he stumbles backward. He can’t do this, not with the song echoing in his head and his hands twitching to play it again. “I can’t,” he forces out, shoving past the man. “I’m sorry; I have to go. I’m sorry.” He rushes to the door and out into the bright afternoon sun.
I’ve been watching a bunch of gender reveals online and I keep seeing my reaction but I’m not 100% clear on Dan’s. Can you write a blurb to help me out? Thxxxxx ✌🏻😊(Gender Reveal anon) unless you don’t want to or you’re too busy it’s totally fine! Sorry I get anxious asking for blurbs Bc I’m not giving you anything in return and I feel like I should. I’m sorry for being weird
Don’t feel weird about sending in requests. I love them. I promise I won’t bite your head off or something. I’m a pretty chill lady.
It was the conversation that was taking over your lives at the moment. Dan desperately wanted to know the sex of the baby. It was all he talked about. He said he didn’t feel like he could properly prepare until he knew. You told him that it was kind of fun not knowing. Nothing was really changing in your mind if it would be a girl or boy. The baby was healthy and kicking every chance it had. That’s all that really mattered to you.
“But Y/N. Think about it. When we find out we can buy so many things to spoil our baby with.” Dan had said at one point while rubbing your belly in bed.
“You are going to spoil the baby no matter what. I never thought you would be the one wanting to know the sex so bad.” Dan never gave you a real answer as to why he wanted to know so bad. You figured it was one of the final steps to make it feel real that the two of you were having a baby. Well, that and all of the baby stuff that was clogging up the house.
But Daniel had seemed to become a planner when he found of that you were expecting. This new planning Dan needs to know everything ahead of time. He was the one who was reading baby books like they were the most interesting thing in the world. It was kind of weird for Dan to have all of these baby facts just running around in his head. To be honest it may be easier if Dan gave birth for you as he was much more prepared than you are.
Even though Dan brought up that it would be nice to know the sex of the baby every single day you put up a good fight for a while. You tried to convince him that you really didn’t need to know the sex yet as buying a ton of clothes seemed silly when the baby would grow so fast. Dan tried saying that decorations for the nursery theme would be easier. You simply reminded him that the theme was already decided as lions, tigers, and bears. Truthfully it seemed like a great excuse to buy a bunch of stuffed animals for every surface.
But after Dan’s pestering, he finally won when he brought up the bigger argument the two of you had been having. What to name the baby. You were having a hard-enough time picking one name let alone settling on two. One for a girl and one for a boy. Of course, the names that the two of you were tossing around weren’t all that gender neutral making everything a bit harder. So, after pushing and pushing Dan finally won in finding out the gender. But Dan being who he is couldn’t just go to the ultra sound and find out like normal people. No Dan wanted to make some sort of video to reveal the what the baby would be. If you were being realistic Dan wanted to celebrate that you were having a baby more than anything else. He was in love with the idea of being a daddy in less than four months. Who were you to tell him no to a video when he was so obsessed with your future child? So, it would be official Dan was going to plan some sort of video to find out what you were having.
The day had come where Dan was buzzing around the house getting the camera and light ready for the video. The last ultra sound you had the technician put the sex of the baby in an envelope that he gave to Phil. Between the two of them, they decided that Phil would put purple glitter in a black balloon for a girl and a navy blue glitter if it was a boy. It was a pretty cute idea you had to admit.
You were finishing getting ready when Phil showed up with two balloons in hand and a giant smile on his face. He had gone straight to the office to meet Dan to see the setup and to hear the plan. After taking one more look at yourself in the mirror you waddled your way into the room where the boys were.It was a simple little setup but it was perfect. Dan had two darts on the desk as he finished focusing everything to his liking.
You tried to sneak in to watch the boys but you were given away when you bumped into the chair. “Y/N! We’re ready for you mummy.” Dan said pulling the chair out of your way so you could sit in your spot.
“I can’t thank you enough for doing this for us, Philly. I thought I might actually be nervous about this but I’m actually just really excited. Maybe Dan was… Right.” You said sticking your tongue out with a giggle. “Are you going to stay and watch Phil?” You asked looking at him as he stood in the door way.
“It was really no problem. I mean I would love to stay and watch if that fine?” Phil said with a little puppy dog look in his eye.
“Please stay. You are family so I think it’s only fair that you get to experience this with us.” You said grabbing Dan’s hand that was resting on your thigh.
“Everyone ready?” Dan said looking from you to Phil. Both Phil and yourself nodded before Dan hit the record button and took a deep breath. “Hello, internet. I am here with my lovely wife Y/N and Phil. Say hi Phil.” Phil gave a little hi and he gave a wave before leaning against the door frame again.”We are doing something I never thought I would be putting on this channel ever. These balloons are filled with glitter that will let us know the sex of our baby. If it turns out to be a boy we will be covered in Blue glitter and if it is a girl we will be covered in purple as Phil couldn’t find any stereotypical pink.” you gave a little smile as you let Dan finish his little spiel. As you thought of how crazy these past few months where you were brought back by the sound of Phil’s voice.
“Y/N? Are you ready to pop the balloons?” You felt silly that you spaced out but quickly grabbed a dart off of the table.
“Ready. Shall we get everyone to place their bets in the comments?” Dan laughed before grabbing his own dart off of the table.
“My bet is a girl. Phil?” Phil thought for a moment.
“I’m going with boy. That what my mum said so I’m going with her. What do you think it will be Y/N?”
“I really don’t know. I think I might be leaning to a girl like Dan. But there is only one way to find out. Will you count us down Phil?”
“Sure. On go pop those puppies. You both readied your dart as you held your balloon by its string. “Three, Two, Two and a half, it’s not too late. You could just not pop them.” Phil said biting his tongue with a smile.
“Phillip Lester!” Both Dan and yourself said at the same time.
“Sorry. One, Go!” You closed your eyes right as your dart hit your balloon. the pops made you scream a little before you opened to see the glitter mess everywhere. You didn’t really know what to say as the tears started to flood over your cheeks.
“It’s a girl!” Dan yelled as he squished your cheeks before planting a big kiss on your lips.
“Holy shit! It’s a girl!” You said happy crying as Dan wiped the tears away with his fingers.
“Congrats you guys! I am so excited for you and I’m even more excited that I don’t have to clean this mess up.”
You could care less about the mess. It was a beautiful mess in your opinion. Dan kept kissing your cheeks as he repeated over and over how he couldn’t believe it was a girl. “Told you it would be a girl Y/N,” Dan said one more time before shaking his hair so some of the purple would fly from his curls. You didn’t think it was possible but this reveal made you even more excited than before.
Tony and Steve watching stars on the roof of the tower because the power is out all over NY from a battle??
“I brought pie and Asgardian booze- shall we begin?”
Steve turned his head back down, grinning as Tony pushed his way through the doors and walked over to him. “I don’t know, Stark, are you gonna ruin the mood? I mean, you’re already ruining the view,” he looked pointedly over Tony’s shoulder as the man leaned over him from his place on the deckchair atop the roof of the Avengers Tower.
“I am the view,” Tony shrugged, dropping the box and the bottle in order to run his hands through Steve’s hair.
“Lame. You totally took that off the internet,” Steve replied, hands rising to Tony’s waist as he let his head fall into Tony’s stomach, “how you feeling?”
“Better. Shoulder’s still having a bad day, but aside from that,” Tony trailed off, and Steve felt him shrug again, “I mean, hey- at least there’s one silver lining to this clusterfuck of a day.”
Tony looked up, face splitting into a soft smile as he stared at the thousands of stars glittering above them. He’d always loved the stars- even after the portal and the nuke and everything- Steve still saw that little smile play on his face when he talked about space.
It was… comforting, in a way. Tony could still love the stars, even after nearly being left to die amongst them. Made Steve feel like their jobs might not ruin everything. That something good might persevere through the nightmares.
Tony’s hands ran through his hair a few more times (and Steve knew him- knew he was checking, because the battle had been hard and Steve was pretty beaten up after being thrown through that wall), before he pulled away a little and let his knees buckle; falling into Steve’s lap fluidly. Steve watched fondly as he wiggled his butt and got comfortable between Steve’s legs, lying back against his chest as he looked upward. “Really is something, isn’t it?”
Steve kissed his temple, before his own head drifted upward. “Definitely. I never thought I’d be able to see something like this here, in New York.”
“Well, you can thank our friendly visitors for that, “ he heard Tony reply, hands reaching for the pie and then ripping open the lid, “they were the ones who went and sat on the goddamn power grid.”
Steve swooped in and snatched the piece of pie Tony was cutting into, shoving into his mouth rather unceremoniously, despite Tony’s protests. “That’s fucking rude, Steve.”
Steve smiled with full cheeks and pressed another kiss to Tony’s face, even when the man yelled and smacked him away. “Ew, Steve, I bet I’ve got crumbs all over my damn face now. Coming out here was a mistake- in fact, just dating you in the first place was a mistake I shall regret to my dying day-”
“Liar,” Steve sung, arms wrapping around Tony’s body and mouth littering kisses across Tony’s face, laughing throughout each and every one.
Tony just sighed, in the end, and let Steve attack his face. “The worst,” he mumbled, although the way he leaned into Steve’s touch suggested otherwise.
Steve chuckled again, and then he finally sat back, pulling Tony a little higher onto his chest so that the top of his head was resting under Steve’s chin. They both leaned back; heads once more titling to the stars above them, and admiring the strange contrast their peace and tranquillity brought to the still-bustling streets below them.
“Do you want a star, Steve?” Tony asked suddenly, after a few seconds spent staring.
“Hmm?” Steve hummed in question. He could feel Tony’s fingers playing absently with his own, and he squeezed fondly.
“A star,” Tony repeated, “I can buy you one. We can name it whatever you want. And then for the rest of history, that’ll be yours.”
Steve paused, and then he huffed a quiet little laugh. “What if I wanted Polaris? Think you can wrangle that one for me?”
A short pause. And then “I could have it arranged. I know people.”
Steve laughed louder this time, and he looked down at Tony, who was still staring avidly above them.
He was so perfect. Even though bruises mottled the side of his face, and stitches ran along the top of his shoulder. Even though he could be the most stubborn bastard on heaven and earth, or the worst when it came to keeping their goddamn room clean.
“I love you, you big idiot,” Steve wrapped him up a littler tighter, nose pressing against Tony’s temple as he smiled down at his hopeless boyfriend, “and no, please don’t buy Polaris. That wasn’t a request, or a challenge-”
“Well, see, now I’ve got Polaris on my mind, Steve, how am I supposed to not-”
“By looking up at the sky, thinking- ‘oh, hey, that’s the most famous star in the sky and changing it to something obnoxious would make my boyfriend cry real tears, so I’m just gonna put my credit card away, this once’,” Steve told him firmly.
Tony grunted discontentedly. “Sounds boring.”
“I like boring,” Steve said simply, “boring is simple. We don’t have enough boring.” Hah- wasn’t that the fucking truth?
Eventually, Tony just sighed. “Fine. No Polaris. Only because I love you very very much, though, or I would totally be having my way.”
Steve rolled his eyes fondly, but didn’t reply. Just opened his palm a little further so that Tony could trace his patterns into the skin there.
And there they stayed. Watching the stars glitter and move slowly through the sky as their little planet turned- still going, still (relatively) unscathed, thanks to their efforts.
It was easy to imagine you were meaningless, when you looked up at something like that. But Steve… it just made him more desperate to look out for the stupid rock they called home. They still had to make their place in the galaxy. They still had so much to give. And Steve would protect that until his dying day.
He opened his mouth a few minutes later, but the words died in his mouth as he glanced down and saw that Tony was fast asleep in his arms. His hair was falling over his eyes, mouth hanging open vacantly as he slept soundly for what was probably the first time in a few days by that point.
It was quite honestly adorable. Although maybe Steve was slightly biased. But who the fuck cared, really?
He smiled, pressing his mouth into Tony’s curls once more before shifting them. “Come on, love, I think that’s enough stargazing for one night.”
“Wuh- what? No, no, ‘m… I’m good,” Tony mumbled as Steve shifted him, sitting upright and then tucking Tony into his side so that his head fell easily onto Steve’s shoulder.
“Of course you are,” Steve agreed absently, hands wrapping around Tony’s back, hoisting them both upright as he brought Tony into an easy bridal carry, “but we had a long day. I think sleeping is in order.”
Tony made a few more tiny noises that may have been words, but his hands tucked around Steve’s neck and he buried his head down into Steve’s chest, so it wasn’t like he was complaining much.
The next time Steve looked down, Tony’s eyes were closed once more.
He shook his head and shot one last fleeting glance upward; watching Polaris glitter through the atmosphere.
For a single second, he thought it might be cool if he got to rename it. Maybe he’d call it Anthony. Seemed like a good name for it.
“Nope,” he warned himself, pushing the thought out as he turned his back and slipped back through the doors. “Don’t even fucking go there, Steve.”
(A/N) How goes it? Are all of you deceased from NCT’s comeback??? I know I sure as hell am!! Before I delve into all the smutty requests coming up, I thought I’d rewind for a moment and give you all some fluffy Ten, which a lovely anon requested! This is a Prince AU, with a HUGE twist. I got really involved with the story RIP
The sun was blazing, far too bright for its own good, as it shone down brilliantly on the capital city. The market place was crowded with people on the lookout for deals, trying to make their meager amounts of money last. You felt the familiar weight of coins press against your thigh in your apron pocket, your hand cupping the cool metal protectively as you squeezed between stalls. In your family, money had recently become sparse, so every coin was precious and worth thousands more than it truly was. You had to be smart and calculate the best possible deals, using your sharp mind to its full potential. Market day had been your responsibility since your mother had passed away, your father following her fate not even a few hours later, unable to live a day without his beloved wife. That had been years ago though, and you were stronger know, had a stronger mind, and a tongue that would make a knight quiver in his armor. You were not one to be messed with.