jumper for sale

my birthday sale week 

my birthday is this sunday so I am giving special prices on all my shirts (except the preorder hoodie) :))) deal ends 15th May 10pm UK time. 

Also please note that I will be away from 9th-15th. Shop stays open of course. orders from today will be shipped tomorrow. orders from tomorrow will be shipped when I am back. 

shop HERE

That Oversized Sweater (Klance Sickfic)

For: @403secret (because she liked this one too and a little bird told me she liked sneezing fics)

~•~

Getting groceries were harder than Keith made it out to be. He didn’t mention that a little bit of math was needed.

Lance looked at the two bags of apples with narrowed eyes, noting how one of them was more expensive than the other. Honestly what were pink lady apples? And what was so special about them anyway? And what was the deal with calling apples pink ladies? Until today, he’d only seen apples as either green and red, pink nowhere in the mix.

Out of curiosity, he dropped a bag of them in the cart and wandered past the vegetable and fruit aisle into the frozen food section. He shuddered at the dead-eyed fish looking at him and escaped to the washing detergent section. After (completely illegally) unscrewing dozens of bottles, he found a satisfactory scent and sighed in relief as he made his way to the check out.

Keith was so very dead, but Lance was not prepared for what greeted him back at the apartment.

After loading and unloading like a madman, Lance felt like he’d just run a marathon and treated himself to an ice cream. After eating the ice-cream (and unashamedly licking the last bits left in the tub), he felt generous and bought one for his Keith. He really was far too nice for his own good. What a good Samaritan he was.

~•~

Lance almost dropped the bags as he stood in the doorway. It took a split-second for him to grip them again, sparing himself another disaster. It had been kind of cold outside and and his skin was tingling.

His gaze was directed at Keith, but more importantly, was directed at what Keith was wearing. You see, about a month ago Lance had seen this grey jumper in a sale and had loved it so much that he’d bought it right then and there, only to find out it was far too big. (The fact that he’d binned the tag and the receipt was irrelevant.) At the time, Keith had commented on how much he’d hated it and it had been stuffed in the back of his closet.

It wasn’t in the closet anymore because Keith was wearing it now. It was even big on him, swamping his lithe form and covering his hands. It reached his knees and he looked so small and vulnerable and Lance just stood there, sure his brain was short-circuiting. Keith looked downright adorable.

“Lance?” Keith didn’t sound right and upon closer inspection, Lance saw the red nose and glassy stare of a sick person. “Where were you?” He sounded confused and if Lance wasn’t worried before, he was worried now.

Dropping the bags on the floor gently, he walked over and placed a hand on his forehead, brushing aside damp hair to check his temperature. He did feel a little warm and judging by Keith’s lack of protests, a bit out of it. Keith coughed weakly and Lance winced at the grating noise it made in his ears.

“Come on, Keith, let’s get you to bed.” He gently led him towards the bedroom, a muddled Keith in tow and soon had him on the bed, sweater like a blanket, draped over him. His cheeks were bright red, contrasting starkly against his pale sin and his lips were dry. “Let’s get that sweater off, hmm? It’s too warm,” he said as he tried to gently pull it off.

Much to his surprise, Keith shook his head furiously. “Smells like you, it’s not so bad.” At that he scrunched his eyes and sneezed, tears springing into his eyes and looked utterly pathetic, close to crying. “Don’t make me take it off.” He uttered hoarsely.

“Okay, we’ll leave it on.” Keith looked so reassured and smiled, looking pleased.

Lance was everything, but he was not heartless. So he left Keith be, reassuring him that he’d return with something to help his throat. A few squeezed lemons and spoonfuls of honey later, Lance returned bearing water, a steaming cup of you’ll-drink-it-no-matter-what-it-tastes-like and medicine. Keith took them all meekly, much to Lance’s surprise and concern.

Crawling in beside him, he cradled the boy in his arms, Keith’s face buried in his chest. He ran his fingers through his hair, eyes staring at the wall in front of him. Keith coughed, harsh barks that hurt Lance to the core, and he soothed him, patting his back softly. Every now and then, he sneezed, little squeaks that made him smile a little.

Then, almost out of nowhere, he heard sobs emitting from Keith. Looking at Keith again, he could see that his nose was running and that a mixture of snot and tears were trailing pathetically down his face, eyes red and cheeks stained. He tried to wipe them away, but Lance was quicker and gently wiped them with his sleeve, being sure not to wipe to hard.

“Oh, Keith.” He lamented, taking in the sick boy in front if him.

“’M sorry.” Keith whimpered. “I didn’t mean to get sick.” He wiped a long sleeve across his cheek.

“Of course you didn’t. Now, lie down and see if we can get you to sleep and we’ll see how you feel tomorrow, all right?” He cupped is jaw softly and Keith nodded tiredly.

Then, Lance remembered. He had bought Keith ice cream! Hastily assuring Keith, he dashed and ransacked through the bags, pleased to find that the ice cream wasn’t complete soup. Grabbing a spoon, he returned with the spoils.

Keith reached for it, but Lance whacked his hand away playfully. “Nope. I’m feeding you.” Keith had enough of his wits about him to blush.

So he fed Keith, carefully spooning them in, wiping his lips where some had smeared, laughing at the way Keith scrunched his nose at his cheesy behaviour. A sick Keith was a cute Keith, and he was going to savour it.

They lay back down again after the ice cream carton was discarded and Lance hummed quietly, alternating between patting his back and combing his hair gently.

Keith was tucked comfortably beneath his chin, a hand gripping his shirt for dear life. He felt so soft, the sweater evening out all the sharp angles and felt so small in his arms like this. Lance caressed the soft folds and chuckled when Keith approved with a low hum.

They fell asleep like that.

~•~

“Lance? Why the hell did you buy the apples with the pink insides?”

So that’s what pink lady apples were.

hate to see your heart break

A/N: back again like an unshakable disease

i.                  Like most best friends, you and Dan have all the cliché embarrassing stories.

Dan throwing his entire plate of food over your head when you were toddlers.

You accidentally knocking Dan off his feet when you were learning to ride a bike as a six year old.

Dan sticking up for you against the neighbourhood bully at twelve.

Drinking cheap alcohol in the park together for the first time as teenagers.

You getting your first boyfriend at sixteen and Dan not knowing how to deal with it.

Dan realising as an adult that he’s actually head over heels for you but too scared to do anything about it.

Yeah.

Story of his damn life.

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Awesome new Jr/AO jumper for sale! 8 yr old gelding. Another grey 🦄 #Oldenburg #horsesofinstagram (at Lexington, Kentucky)

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2

Smartypants is FOR SALE again! 

This time I really, really, REALLY need to sell him.

6 year old Hanoverian/Thoroughbred by Golfball (GrenadierXLybia).

Large 15.3 hh. VERY fancy mover. Automatic lead changes.

Has been competing in the 2'6 hunters (was reserve champ for 2013, ready to move up to 3’ or higher), 2'6 and 3’ jumpers (ready to move up), and Beginner Novice Eventing (ready for Novice). 

His temperament is about a 6-7 on a 0-10 scale. Needs a good intermediate or an advanced rider.

Hacks out alone or in company. TONS OF POTENTIAL HERE GUYS!

Located in Charlotte, NC. 

Pleaseee reblog and help me sell him.

Email cotirides@aol.com for videos.