Request: Hey can you write an imagine where the reader is dating Finn Balor and they get their wisdom teeth out and Finn has to take care of them?
“I can’t do this.” Y/N protested as Finn pulled the car into the parking lot of her dentist’s office. “Nope - that’s it. I’m not doing this. Let’s go get breakfast - Georgie’s Diner? I’ve been craving the home fries for weeks.”
Finn laughed knowing how anxious she was but he let her ramble while he unbuckled his seat belt. While she was still going on about breakfast and stalling, he got out of the car, walking over to her side to open the door for her.
She looked at him like a deer in headlights, eyes wide as he softly motioned for her to get out of the car.
We’re out of town right now, running around Disney and Universal, being the nerds we are, so I am wiped out by the time I get back to the hotel! (I’m actually posting this in the line for a Potter ride lol)
Thank you all again for you wonderfully sweet words for Chapter 1; this fandom is so truly encouraging! I love you guys! Again, big thanks and loves to @13starbuck42 for being such a fabulous beta and making my words shiny and pretty! Tagging @today-in-fic!
Dana couldn’t believe her luck. Her mother actually helped her talk Ahab into letting her go out on her first real date, and it wasn’t a huge ordeal! Sometimes it paid off big to be the kid that never got caught doing stupid things.
It was all set. Daryl had asked her to the movies for Saturday afternoon, then a casual dinner after. She had to be home by 10:00pm. No big deal, Daryl had said. He understood strict parents, Dana thought. And 10:00 was pretty good for a first date. Besides, this was no big deal, just a movie and dinner. Yeah, just keep telling yourself that, Dana couldn’t help thinking. She was a little nervous, despite her bravado with Missy. She wished she had talked to Missy just a little bit more about what an older guy might expect out of a first date.
But if there was one thing Dana Scully didn’t do, it was back down. She had made up her mind; she liked this guy enough to give him a shot. Nerves be damned.
As if summoned by her thoughts, Melissa came around the corner into Dana’s room and plopped down on her desk chair. She surveyed the tornado of clothes strewn across the bed and smiled, then looked at her sister with an appraising eye.
“You need a hand?”
Dana was not usually the type to ask for help, but this was definitely one of those moments when a big sister’s presence was appreciated. “How could you guess?” Dana laughed. “I have no idea what to wear. I don’t want to send the wrong message!”
Missy looked briefly at what her sister was wearing: worn, faded jeans and a short sleeve fitted sweater. It was soft and pretty, but not over the top. “Your outfit is perfect. Let’s talk about what’s really on your mind.”
“You always know when I need you, Melissa. Thanks.” Dana smiled and took a deep breath. “I’m just kinda nervous about what to expect. Does he expect me to kiss him? I don’t even know him! And what about in the theater? He hasn’t actually asked me to be his girlfriend, but I don’t really mind holding his hand, I guess, but what if that means something else to him entirely, and-”
“Dana, slow down! I’m sure it’ll be fine. If you don’t want to do something like hold his hand or kiss him goodnight, just don’t do it. Don’t worry about his expectations; just do what is right for you, ok?” Melissa said sincerely.
Dana took a quick breath and nodded. Missy always knew what to say to make her feel grounded again. Okay, I think I’m ready, Dana thought.
“Yeah,” Melissa said as she walked out of Dana’s room, “you are ready to roll.”
“Missy, you are the spookiest person I have ever known.”
Waiting for this concert to start and there’s this guy on a first date with a woman behind me and he hasn’t let her get a word in edgewise and he’s ranting about his childhood and “nature vs. nurture” and society and he told her he actually prefers to go to concerts alone because it’s more “authentic” but this is “okay” and he asked her to list all the concerts she’s been to and asked her her favorite and she said Weezer and he said “that’s cute” and he’s talking about how his Meyer Briggs personality type is the most complex and now he’s going on about linguistics omg stfu dude let her speak
After years of being alone, everyone being too intimidated by her for dating to go well, The Mayor never thought she’d be married to such a wonderful woman, let alone move on to have two beautiful children with her. Here she is with their first child Marina, she didn’t think she could fall in love twice, but in this moment every ounce of happiness overcame her and the tears flowed, other than her wedding and the birth of her second child, she can’t name a more happier time.
“It was spontaneous. I didn’t ask for permission. We’d been dating for five months, so I just decided to go for it. We were standing on a beach. Watching the sunset. I waited for the perfect moment when she wasn’t paying attention. Then I leaned in and kissed her on the cheek. At first she was silent. She gave me a bit of a side look. I thought I’d messed up. So I pointed at the waves and pretended that I saw something in the ocean. I let things cool down for a few months before trying again.”
A/N: This was going to be a Dylan O’Brien imagine but I feel so much more comfortable writing for Stiles. There will be a part 2.
It was nearing two in the morning and Stiles let his head fall back as he let out a loud laugh, taking a chug of the bottle in his hand. Scott had sent out a text that the pack should get together that night and just relax; something none of them could do in months. There was no supernatural creature setting out to kill in Beacon Hills lately so he figured this was the perfect time.
Lydia had her head resting on his lap, her eyes falling shut as she let out a yawn. Scott and Isaac were cracking funny jokes which caused Stiles to laugh and making each other do stupid things. Allison was in the corner looking like she was having a heart to heart with Kira; Stiles didn’t care for that at the minute, knowing they were only talking about Scott.
Aidan walked into the room, a yearbook in hand and a crate of beer. “Wooo!” Stiles cheered, throwing his empty bottle onto the floor and reaching for a new one. “Truth or dare!” Aidan shouted, Lydia jumping up in shock and rolled her eyes. The pack gathered around the small coffee table and nervously looked at one another. “I’ll spin first.” He added, spinning the empty bottle of beer watching anxiously as it spun around more than ten times, slowly coming to a stop in front of Scott.
Okay, so we know Viktor is a bookworm. This has been established, right? Well, what about young Vitya who, when going around the world for competitions, buys books regardless of the language. And he orders dictionaries online, and translates them personally. (Because being at the top of the world can be kind of lonely.)
I FEEL REALLY SORRY FOR NOT GETTING TO THIS EARLIER BUT!!!! I LOVE THIS!!!
Victor’s relationship with books dated back to a long time. Yakov’s first memory of him included a book snuggly held against Victor’s chest.
It made for a funny picture—the small, wide-eyed child holding a big book like it was a teddy bear, refusing to let go of it even though he would have no time to sit and read. Yakov remembers being able to peek at the title—it was The Hobbit, a colorful and illustrated version—and at his curiosity, Vitya’s mother chuckled and shook her head.
“He won’t leave home without bringing a book along,” she explained.
Little Vitya was a stubborn one. It was a trait he carried on into his adult life.
“Mommy,” Vitya tugged at her sleeve, eyes following the skaters on the rink, “can I skate yet?”
“I don’t know. How about you ask your new coach?” She replied, encouraging him to step forward and talk to Yakov.
Vitya, back then a five-year-old, already knew how to be polite and charming, raising his chin up to look at Yakov with his big blue eyes and swiping his hair back.
“Coach Yakov, may I use the rink, please?“
Yakov would be heartless if he refused.
“Of course. But you can’t take your book with you.”
He almost expected Vitya to widen his eyes and clutch at his book, perhaps insist on taking it to the ice with him by the way he had been carrying it all morning or turn to his mother and say something along the lines of “I don’t like this new coach”. Instead, little Vitya frowned, offering Yakov his book with a seriousness of a real adult who confided something of great importance.
“Then… can you keep it for me?”
It had started like that. Vitya would always bring a book along, and handing Yakov his book for safe-keeping before lacing up and stepping on the ice became a part of their routine. It happened before classes, it happened before competitions. Sometimes he would curl up in a corner of the rink and read his book while waiting for some free time to skate.
Victor’s passion for books became even more evident as he grew up. He always had one in his bag, but also always brought one from home. Yakov couldn’t tell which one he was reading—or if he was reading both—but he would never question it.
“The bookstore had a sale and I couldn’t resist,” twelve-year-old Vitya would explain when he arrived late for practice, and Lilia would only shake her head and look at Yakov.
Sometimes it was a bit of a problem. Just like he would refuse to do his warm-ups before finishing a chapter, he always backed one too many books for his trips.
“Why are you bringing so many books for?” Yakov asked as he loaded the taxi with Victor’s luggage. “Do you think you’ll be able to slack off just because you won gold in the last competition?”
Teenager Victor chuckled, glancing at his struggling coach as he scratched Makkachin behind her ears.
“I don’t know. I might get tired of waiting for my turn and read a dozen books before I step on the ice,” he teased.
It was a known fact Victor was a fast reader, but the reason why he brought a bunch of books wasn’t because of it. It was something Yakov didn’t entirely understand, and something he wasn’t exactly interested in encouraging.
Victor traded them with other competitors—sometimes giving up on his beautiful, limited edition cover books in favor of getting a ratty, old book in a language he couldn’t understand. Most of the times they weren’t even the same books—giving up on his treasured, flawless Anna Karenina for a coffee-stained, decade-old single volume Narnia in Italian?
Yakov didn’t understand. But Victor—he was always elated to trade books with people, no matter what it was, and would start reading it as soon as possible, running to the nearest shop in search of a dictionary that could help him understand the book.
When Victor turned fifteen he moved to Yakov and Lilia’s apartment to focus on his training, aiming for Junior’s gold in the following season. One condition, though—he could bring no more than ten books.
He protested. Being rightfully furious about the proposal, Victor refused to agree with Yakov’s terms—even though he understood the reasoning behind such imposal—and was only after a lot of negotiation from Lilia’s part that he finally decided to agree.
“How?” Yakov asked as Lilia brought him the good news.
“He won’t be bringing any books. I’ve offered him my library instead.”
“Your books are all in French.”
Lilia smirked, offering Yakov the famous you fool eyes that were affectionate and mocking all the same.
“You know that is not a problem for him.”
Reading a lot was never exactly a problem or a harm to his growth as a skater. Victor was a promising athlete with incredible potential, excited to win and passionate about his sport.
The real problem was that kids his age weren’t that passionate about reading. They had other interests—like games, movies, dating, and books just didn’t seem to be a popular top priority like it was for Victor.
Victor had always been charming, talkative and approachable, and when Yakov asked him to interact with other skaters at banquets, he would quickly gather a small group around him and would talk passionately about the latest story he read, exchanging impressions about characters and other things.
But after a couple of hours, Victor was nowhere to be seen. He would usually head back to his room, grab his book and find a peaceful place to read. More often than not, Yakov heard other people commenting about how focused he was on his book and lamenting not wanting to interrupt his reading.
As enjoyable as they were, books made for a lonely hobby.
When Victor got his own apartment a magazine made a photoshoot there, and they could not hide their surprise as they learned that Victor had read all the books on the shelves of his living room, save for a small pile that was kept next to the sofa where he would curl up after practice and read. They made sure to include that information when the interview was released, and Yakov remembered clearly the reaction it had gotten from the public.
Between practicing and reading, Victor Nikiforov did little else. People made a huge deal out of it—providing lengthy blog posts about how those hundred of books spoke of solitude and a somewhat intrusive trend of asking Victor personal questions about his mental health.
Victor dismissed those rumors saying something about being too immersed in stories to think about being lonely. To his inner circle, it was easy to notice otherwise.
However, Yakov noticed a change when Victor moved to Japan. It was growth. It was selflessness. First, he had taken only around ten books on his trip, which meant a significant effort from his part of getting to know someone, and being unsure about his future and the path he had taken. Bitter, he didn’t want to think too much about it, dismissing those things as Victor’s aloofness as he packed in a hurry.
For once, Yakov enjoyed being proved wrong. Wrong about Victor being selfish. Wrong about Victor not being able to coach. Wrong about Victor not knowing what he wants.
Being a teacher, after all, was about watching your pupils overcome and surprise you. And even though Yakov was still a bit bitter about it, he admired Victor for his growth.
“I’ll keep it for you,” he heard Victor say from the sideline, picking the book from Yuuri’s hand with care.
They stood a couple of steps away, Yuuri removing the guards from his blades while Victor’s help, his coat thrown haphazardly over his shoulders as he assumed the role of coach after his train was over.
“Can you mark the page for me?” Yuuri asked. “I forgot the bookmarker in the dressing room.”
“Of course. What did you think of the chapter?”
Wide-eyed, Yuuri turned around with a big smile on his face, nearly jumping over the boards in excitement while trying to not make a scene. It was funny. It reminded Yakov of young Vitya.
“I wasn’t expecting the plot twist to be that big? It was difficult to put the book down! I nearly skipped training just so I could finish it.”
“I know! I was sure you’d like it!” Victor smiled excitedly, holding the book close to his chest. “You won’t believe what happens in the next chapter. It gets so much better, you have no idea!”
“Vitya!! You promised not to tease!” Yuuri laughed, pushing Victor playfully.
“Yuuri, get to work!” Yakov called out, only then noticing how he was watching the scene with a shy smile.
“Oh—Sorry, Yakov!” Victor smiled apologetically, leaning over the board to give Yuuri a kiss before watching him glide on the ice.
Victor had always had a weak spot for cheesy romance novels. Yakov wanted to laugh when he remembered Victor is living one of them.
“Go on. Join him,” he said, nudging Victor’s shoulder. “Yuuri skates more passionately when you’re there with him.”
Victor looked at Yakov with his eyebrows raised and lips parted in surprise. He didn’t say a word, and yet his coach was able to read the emotions flowing in his eyes.
“Alright,” Victor smiled, offering him the book. “Can you keep this for me?”
So not too long ago I used to talk to this bum ass dude that goes to my university. I thought he was cute at the time but then he showed his true colors. I’m a light skinned- caramel complexion and one of my good friends( we will call her Tay) is a beautiful, and I mean beautiful dark skin girl. If I can be honest, there was a point of time I low-key used to envy her, not in a hateful way…I guess you can call it admiring, but I honestly thought she was so perfect and I couldn’t fathom why any guy would ever dare to pass her up. Well one day she and I went out to a party, the fuck boy I used to talk to was there and he and I had planned to go eat at IHOP after the party. Turns out he was with a friend of his as well, this ugly ass stank face, ashy, crispy, fool whose hairline looked like missing puzzle pieces and he thought he was the shit. I’m not sure who lied to him tho. We will call him Cam.
For reasons that are beyond me, Tay had a huge crush on this fool, but she was super shy. So after the party Tay goes to talk to one her friends for a bit and then I go and find my guy and we start to talk. I kind of figured I could try to set up a sort of double date like thing for IHOP and I let him know that Tay was feeling Cam and that we should try to get them together. I guess he wasn’t paying any type of attention because he didn’t know who Tay was and hadn’t seen her that night, so i pointed her out to him and by this time Cam had came over near us. My guy whispers something to Cam and they both burst out laughing. I’m real confused at that point and I just see Cam being mad extra talking about “Leave me out of it Bruh” and “don’t play me like that” and blah blah blah. So I ask them what’s up and Cam’s ol ugly ass says “Ima have to pass on the offer” so I ask him why and I was telling that my friend was a baddie and I wanted to know what he had against her. This ashy ass ninja is going to have the audacity to open his mouth and say “I can’t do dark skins”. 🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄. The stupid ass ninja I was with starts laughing and he’s like “man I didn’t wanna say it, sorry”. Mind you, Cam is a very dark skin dude of Ghanaian descent, he has a beautiful dark skin sister who also goes to our school yet he had the audacity to open his mouth and say some shit like that. I’m not going to lie I was a bit speechless at first because even though I’m aware colorism exists full and well, that was the first time I had ever seen it happen so blatantly against someone that I was close to.
I stood their for a good 10 minutes debating with his ignorant ass on why he was ignorant as hell and questioning how he as a dark skin person himself could disregard women who bare the same features as him. Both them fools kept going back and forth about how “it’s just a preference and how they didn’t like when dark skin girls wore weave.” I got so fed up I told both of them they weren’t worth shit, got Tay and we bounced and went off to Denny’s by ourselves instead of IHOP. I was really afraid to tell her what happened because I didn’t want to hurt her feelings, but she insisted and i figured she deserved to know the truth so she wouldn’t still have her hopes up for that dumbass little boy. She kind of played it off but I could tell. She was hurt. I sent her long heartfelt text message later on about how she was beautiful and a lot of uplifting stuff. That’s basically how me and the other ninja stopped talking tho, because I’m sorry but I have no patience to entertain ignorance and coon-like behavior.
Though I am lighter and do not share the same experiences as darker skinned women, I feel that still as a black woman nonetheless, it is my job to uplift and look out for other black women as much as I can because in the end it seems like all we have is each other. Ladies please don’t let the comments from these trash ass men get to you, your melanin is beautiful and you are what lights up the universe. Your black will always be great. ☺️😊✨✨✨
Summary: You know he’s bad for you…but damn is he good.
Warnings: there ain’t no spoilers or nothing just some good ol fluffy angsty stuff
A/N: YALLLLL so i saw black panther twice right and like after the first time i watched it I WAS LIKE SHOOOT i want to write fic for every character, BUT ANYWAY i wanted to write something without any spoilers just something a little short and sweet ya know<333 i hope yall like this i also wanna write a erik college au type fic so djfalj hopefully thatll come soon!!!!!!
“This is the last time I’m going to tell you: We. Are. Not. Together,” Y/N enunciated in that staccato way that had grown so familiar to him. “Did you hear that, Erik?” she questioned, snapping her fingers in front of his face.
He swatted her hand out of the way, giving a roll of his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, I heard you. Loud and clear, babygirl,” he drew out the words long a slow, giving her a teasing salute.
“You’re so unbelievable, why can’t you just leave me al—do not sit down.”
He sat directly beside her, ordering himself a drink too while he was at it. They were seated in a semi-crowded bar. Together, much to her apparent annoyance and astonishment. She looked appalled, as if he had just called her some foul name.
“You’re brave, you are really brave.”
Erik smirked, his head tilting to the side innocently. “Brave how?”
“Brave enough to sit your ass down in that stool,” Y/N quipped. “What do you want?”
“What, baby? Can’t a dude just come chill out, see how his favorite girl doin’?”
“You didn’t come here to check on me, you ruined my date, you fucking narcissist. This is the fourth time you’ve pulled this shit.” An accusatory forefinger poked him hard in the middle of his chest, making Erik raise his brows questioningly. She was right. It was the fourth time he’d coincidentally found himself showing up on one of her dates. It was also the fourth time that she had chosen a complete clown to go out with. “Why can’t you just let me be happy?”
“Don’t get all dramatic, babygirl. Listen, it’s not my fault ol’ boy couldn’t take a joke. If he isn’t funny, then he isn’t the guy for you anyways, Y/N. You could do better!” He shrugged his shoulders in an exaggerated manner before taking a sip of his whiskey. “How was he a whole clown and he wasn’t even funny…don’t make sense,” he murmured, shaking his head.
“Who are you to tell me who ‘isn’t the guy for me’? You wouldn’t know anything about being a good boyfriend if it knocked you in the fucking face.” Y/N looked to him with furrowed brows, her voice rising, then carefully lowering to a furious whisper when she remembered they were out in public. “You know what,” she began with a deep inhale, “I’m just going to leave.” She stood from her stool, grabbing her small clutch and phone off the bar surface before making her hasty exit. “Don’t fucking follow me,” she called back to him before allowing the door to shut behind her.
Erik waited about thirty seconds before he left the bar. He lightly jogged through the warm night air to catch up with her. “You ain’t think I was gonna let a pretty girl walk home all alone, right?”
“I have pepper spray,” she replied, though it sounded more like a warning than anything.
“Come on, Y/N, don’t be mean.”
She stopped walking abruptly, looking to him with disbelief and annoyance. “Okay, listen…I don’t know what it is your looking for. A fuck, a relationship, I don’t know, but whatever it is I don’t want any part of it.” She frowned when she saw the familiar smirk twitching at his lips. “Erik, I’m serious. We aren’t together for a reason!”
“Because you broke up with me!”
“Or because you’re a self-absorbed fuck,” she retorted.
He scoffed in disbelief.
“Oh come on, Erik. Don’t act surprised. Look at you right now. Why are you here?” she cocked a brow, folded her arms over her chest. Her eyes narrowed in his direction, awaiting a response.
“I’m here for you!”
“No, you’re here for you. If you cared, if you really cared even a little bit about me you wouldn’t be here right now. You’d leave me alone and let me be happy, but you can’t do that, can you?” Her eyes searched his, though she wasn’t exactly sure what she was looking for. “You can’t.”
Now she resumed walking, brushing past him in irritation and leaving him in a state of confusion as he began to feel a twinge of self-loathing. Selfish. He had never considered it. As he watched her walk away from him he realized something else, something that he had never considered: love. They had played the on and off game for years now. Their relationship was constantly morphing from friends, to friends with benefits, to boyfriend/girlfriend. The cycle seemed like it was destined to repeat infinitely, until now. Only in recent months had she truly tried to break things off with him, but this felt definite. Was it possible that in those three years, those thirty-six months that somehow, in the midst of it all, he had really developed feelings for her? Real, honest feelings? It would explain his jealous behavior, and the lump in his throat that developed at the mere thought of her walking out of his life. His fists balled up into fists and he sighed heavily. Of all the girls he could have fallen for, it had to be the most infuriating one he knew. Really? It wasn’t his fault. He couldn’t help that love was a fickle and selfish thing.
“Y/N! Could you just wait up?” He called after her with a roll of his eyes. When she didn’t stop he found himself again jogging to catch up to her, matching her brisk pace. “God dammit, could you just—” he stood in front of her now, strong hands gripping her shoulders firmly, “—just listen to me.”
“I wasn’t kidding about the pepper spray, Erik!” she warned sharply.
He ignored her. “Look, I get it. I ruined your damn date, but who the fuck cares? It’s not like you were gonna marry the dude. Y’alls date was probably trash anyways.” Y/N tried to interject, but he gave her no time. “I don’t know what this is. And honestly…I don’t know what I want either.” He was floundering for words, trying to figure out the best way to explain himself. He gritted his teeth, jaw flexing, his brows pulling together in thought. “Fuck, this is hard,” he muttered. “If you don’t want to be with me…fine. But I don’t want anyone else to have you if I can’t.”
Y/N’s eyes narrowed. He seemed sincere, but whether he meant the words or not, she was unsure whether she wanted to put herself through the trouble of being with him again. He was an asshole, but so was she. They were good as friends, even better as lovers, but the relationship stuff was hard. He was a grade A philanderer and she was tired of the bullshit.
“Erik, you are so full of shit. You really think I’m dumb enough to be—” she was abruptly cut off by his lips smashing into hers. She froze up, and after a moment’s hesitation, shoved him away, angrily. The two stared at one another, breathing hard, lips tingly from the rough, sudden contact. Outside in the warmth of the night air, they stood beneath a streetlight on an empty sidewalk, the small space between them charged with electricity. Silence, besides the sound of their own racing hearts in their ears. Suddenly she threw her arms around his neck, kissing him hard on the mouth. He responded immediately, his arms snaking around her waist without hesitation, holding her in an intimate, warm embrace.
good luck platonic allurance hc that you cant live without
since you cowards won’t address how great of a friendship lance and allura would have let me go ahead and bless you
the friends that have been inseparable since grade school
lance being confused about his sexuality and allura just straight out “bitch you gay”
they do not go to any event without each other
they like to go to the beach and show off their assets because they are a hot couple of gays
they always tell each other about their secrets and crushes
lance and allura go to the mall often and like to people watch and point out who they would date
lance having a hard time figuring out his sexuality and allura helping him sort of cope and accept that it is okay being bisexual
lance is the only person allura lets touch her hair
they are constantly on each others snapchat
oh and they go clothes shopping together (what besties don’t ??)
also they absolutely love fashion runway
the dorks probably have friendship bracelets or rings now that we are on the topic
no one dates allura without going through lances approval first (gotta impress the best friend)
they like to watch movies together (ghibli) and often spend the night at each others home, like a second family
mean girls is their favorite movie to watch together, nothing has topped it
allura is the only one who knows about lances secret crush on keith
she talks to keith like its no problem (lance always loses his cool) and it drives lance crazy
they stalk other peoples instagram together
allura often texts lance in the middle of the night to cry about her family issues, and lance does the same about his own insecurities
they stay up as late as possible until the other feels okay enough to go back to sleep
allura is the only one that knows lance is more than a flirt and that his constant flirting on girls makes people mistake him for straight. He just doesn’t know how to hit on guys as much (specifically keith), so he vents to allura about this a lot
also they check up on every bodies horoscope lol
allura is a mom to lance sometimes so she monitors spies almost every date lance and keith goes to (much to keiths irritation)
they make sure they sign up for the same classes
both of them have a favorite diner they go to (and usually late at night to like a couple of crazy teenagers)
they’re both 80s gays, so they like to go to the rollerskating rink together often
sometimes one of them will walk into the room and give the look and that’s when they know it’s going to be drama hour
they don’t get involved with drama but they know the dirt on everyone lol
lance loves to play video games even though allura isn’t as good as he is
allura happens to love animals though so to make up for the video games, lance will often take her to the pet store or zoo to look at animals
allura owns pet mice and she refers to them as her children
they binge watch shows together and post about it and constantly gush all over the fandom, these two are just nerds !!
lance jokingly hits on allura sometimes, and sometimes she brushes it off because she knows he isn’t serious, but other times she will flirt back and throw lance off (he blushes so hard)
they’ll kiss each other on the cheeks because that’s what best friends do sometimes (also hugs everyday)
they often tell each other ‘I love you’ (even if they are platonic, you can always tell your friend ily)
these two are the best of friends, they absolutely love each other and will always have each others backs
There’s a reaper, preparing to take your soul. To you this will happen in decades, for her it will be moments. She will watch you. She will fall in love with you. When you pass your soul will become capitavated with her. You will fall in love with her on sight. You will beg the gods to let you ferry souls alongside her. They will grant your wish if only out of curiosity. When you meet her, when you’ve finally taken a form capable of speaking to her you will say, “Hey, do you want to go out sometime?”
She will say yes. You meet in a grove where the plants exist alive and dead simultaneously and talk as the strange translucent sun passes over several times. Later, you will propose to her there. Date a girl who comes to take your soul, then marry her as the gods look along in approval.
Sweet Pea makes a valentine for Toni every year. It started when they were kids, he tried to cheer her up when her second-grade crush shoved her on the playground and told her he didn’t date “south side trash”. She had cried and smiled and hugged him back then, back before she was all leather and combat boots and pink-striped hair. Unable to give up the tradition, Sweet Pea now takes an annual trip to the store, buying construction paper and glitter and whatever else is on sale to make her a silly letter. Toni always rolls her eyes, tells Sweet Pea they’re not in grade school anymore and he that can let it go, but the faint smile that tugs at her lips lets Sweet Pea know he can never give it up.