this is a gift for my dearest @blushyalec​, hope you like it! happy birthday, darling! <3

When Alec’s phone pings loudly in the afternoon quiet of the loft, he sighs with relief, the message a welcome distraction from the Institute’s financial reports. The pen clatters onto the coffee table from Alec’s hand as he picks up his cell, swiping eagerly across the screen.

I’ll be home in 15, see you soon,” reads the message signed under Magnus’ name; Alec smiles, lips pressing into a curved line. He throws the phone haphazardly onto the pillows, then disentangles himself from the plush blanket that kept him company for the last hour or so, along with the now empty cup of green tea. He carries the mug into the kitchen, eyes drifting over the adorably wonky drawings stuck to the fridge, each held up by animal magnets. His favorite is right in the center - three people, one with a bow, one with blue around the arms, holding hands with a smaller figure smiling wide.

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anonymous asked:

You gotta write a fic or Drabble about olicity and the 40% kissing 60% giggling thing please

*Contains Recent Potential Spoilers for 6x09!*

(I saw the pictures from set and then I saw there were green cupcakes on set and this is obviously what will happen. Because I demand it.)

There was no choice to make.

The hall was quiet save for a few whispers, the clinking of glasses and silverware, some soft emotional sighs - alright, those were mostly from her mother - and the shuffling of feet. 

For the most part it was just bated breath as everyone watched them.

Her face was straight, not wanting to give away what she was going to do, even as she raised the cupcake with the bright green frosting on it to his mouth. The smile on his face was so quiet and serene, so beautiful and unsuspecting. The ceremony had been perfect and now it was time to cap it off with… 

A twinkle in Oliver’s eye caught her off guard, but before she could process it his lips twitched ever so slightly, like he was fighting a smile.

Oh no.

Felicity narrowed her eyes, opening her mouth to tell him, “Noooo…” but it was too late.

He shoved the dark green cupcake in her face. 

Felicity gasped - he got her first - and with a face-splitting grin, she did the same exact thing to him. 

Oliver laughed, a gorgeously boisterous sound that echoed through the room as he tried to dodge back, but Felicity followed him, making sure she smeared icing all over her stupidly handsome husband’s mouth and cheeks. The move had the cupcake he held going up and over her nose, which made him really laugh. It was contagious and amazing, and her laughter quickly joined his, especially when she nearly got her cupcake in his open mouth, but he caught her wrist at the last second before she could.

As laughter and applause erupted around them, Felicity looped her other arm around his neck and pulled his lips down to hers. 

The kiss was a complete mess, all grins and green icing, especially when he tugged her into his chest and tried to smear his icing-covered face all over hers. It elicited a little shriek from her before she gave it as good as she got, reducing both of them to giggles and open-mouthed kisses.

But the real giggles didn’t start until Felicity pulled back and looked up at him.

He had green icing all over his face - on his nose, his cheeks, around his eyes and in his eyebrows.

It was freakishly reminiscent of his Hood days, so much so that Felicity snorted.

Biting her lip to keep from losing it, she dragged a green-tinged finger down the side of his face with a quiet, “So much for those Green Arrow rumors not being true, huh?”

Oliver grinned. “That bad?”

Felicity hummed, shaking her head as she drank him in. “No,” she replied, leaning forward to lick the tip of his nose. He chuckled, and he didn’t stop as she dropped more open kisses all over his face, tasting as much as kissing. “Definitely that good.”

Completely oblivious to the room around them, Oliver whispered, “C’mere,” just before his mouth found hers again… only to be thwarted when his lips slipped right over hers and landed on her cheek. 

Felicity laughed and they tried to kiss again, but icing was everywhere and it was only getting worse… 

No, it was only getting better as they stood there in their own little world, their perfect little world that was all theirs, that they’d fought so hard for, that they’d won, and tried to kiss each other through endless giggles and green icing.

(That’s the photo Oliver will always carry in his wallet and the one that Felicity keeps with her as she builds her brand new company.)

Trick or Treat (Part One)

Originally posted by tomshollandss

A/N: Wow I’m really hoping I finish this small series up before halloween!! I really hope you guys like this bc it’s really short but it kinda is just background for the rest of the story soo… Shoutout to the ever so lovely @dej-okay for reading through this for me today!! I love you!! 

Pairing: Peter Parker x reader

Word Count: 741 (yikes it’s so short! I promise the following parts will be longer!)


Music was playing through the radio in the small kitchen yet again as Peter was trying to make some kind of Halloween cupcakes May had shown him from Pinterest and (Y/N) was sitting on the counter closeby.

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part two of and all is well

“I didn’t mean for him to come here, if he had just asked me then this could have different and not so sudden and –“ She’s suddenly cut off by Frank’s mouth pressing to hers. She doesn’t flinch away or try to push him off, the tears that had been burning in her eyes ever since she got here making their way down her face at last. Frank gently brushes them away, letting her breathe a moment later. “I’m so sorry.”

(A seventeen year old Finn tracks his father to Chicago with Karen not too far behind, which makes for a awkward family reunion.)

read here



anon asked: THAT DAVEY ONE KILLED ME i know we already got a glimpse of him with a crush but is it okay to ask for a whole one about it? idk i just live the idea of him having a crush

summary: davey’s seriously crushing on a girl he saw at the library

**will i ever write a newsies era! davey x reader? who knows?! also i really abused the use of commas in this whoops

He’d seen her at the library everyday for the last few weeks. She spent most of her time around the history section, occasionally dipping into modern literature. Which is where Davey would reside.

He hadn’t talked to her once. Davey liked to think it was because he wanted to respect the rules of the library. In reality, it was because he knew he wouldn’t be able to form a coherent sentence in front of her.

Whenever he saw her, he’d plot out ways he could try to communicate with her. One idea was to try and slip a note into the book she was reading. Another was to reach for the same book she was trying to reach for. On paper, they seemed foolproof.

When Davey tried to put them into practice, however, it was a different story.

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Shower Singer - Part 6

Hello again! Once again, thank you to everyone for your lovely comments and messages. I seriously love every single one of you❣ I hope you like this chapter!

Warnings: Swearing & violence

You yawned widely as you descended the Grand Staircase, your heavy bag full of books digging into your shoulder. Sundays were usually ‘sleep-in’ days for you, but you could no longer ignore your increasing mountain of homework. It seemed like with every essay you completed, another 5 more were added; you just couldn’t keep up. So you dragged yourself out of bed at the break of dawn, planning to spend your day off in the Library.  Yippee!

You reached the first floor and dragged your feet towards the Library corridor, barely noticing where you were walking. As you turned a corner you suddenly bumped into a tall, solid figure.

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Day 1: Haunted

For @shouritshou and their event, Ritshou Fall Week! 

Warnings for major injury (its just like a bg thing, though, its not described) 

“Ritsu blinks. A shadowy form appears in front of him. It’s gone again before he can scream.“

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ikenew  asked:

soukoku w sentence prompt 22 please i need dazai to slip up and admit chuuya's cute

As part of my thanks for 200 followers. Ro, I have kept you waiting so long and I do apologize for that. Deeply. I won’t lie, I’m sweating. I love these babies, and I adore you and your writing. Shooketh.

22. “You’re lucky you’re cute…”

[~750 words, Soukoku, Mafia Days, Gently Pining Dazai…]

Dazai wondered sometimes if Chuuya’s ability gave him more weight, more heft, than his frame ought to bear.  He watched Chuuya bare his teeth, facing down an entire warehouse of thugs that nearly doubled his height in every case, electricity and flames crackling invisibly through his compact limbs, and Dazai had the distinct feeling that he was the sidekick.

Watching Chuuya blaze with Corruption was a rush like nothing else Dazai had experienced, but it ate away at the pit of his stomach every time.  He thought if he turned his insides out, they’d be bruised like Chuuya’s slender hands.  If he could even see the bruising on his rotten organs, that was.

Scare them, were the orders.  Dazai considered the unconscious thugs suitably terrified as he raced to get to Chuuya before he turned the entire warehouse into a blackhole.

He gathered Chuuya up off the floor when the destruction was over and silence blanketed the room like ash, which impressed Dazai a lot less than Chuuya’s perfectly average weight settling into his arms.  The bend of his legs in the crook of Dazai’s elbow, the curve of his back curled with Dazai’s arm.  His head to Dazai’s shoulder.  His hat shoved hastily onto Dazai’s head for safe keeping.

Chuuya cracked an eye and attempted a snarl that was so exhausted it looked more like a smile.  “Put me down.”  Even his voice was bruised.  It made Dazai’s bleeding insides feel like they’d been punched.  He ignored it.

“I supposed you’ll walk to the car,” Dazai said, not pausing his stride.  And Chuuya would, as well, even if it took him an hour.  Dazai thought he could manage it in thirty minutes, though.  Chuuya bent time as much as gravity.  Dazai kept that to himself because he was certain that effect only worked on him.  And they didn’t have an hour; they didn’t even have thirty minutes.  They had ten, tops, Dazai figured.

Chuuya shifted and stiffened, and then frowned at Dazai, lips pulling into a faint sneer that felt good on Dazai’s battered insides.  Menthol for aching lungs.  

“You look ridiculous,” Chuuya huffed.

The band of Chuuya’s hat was damp with sweat where it pressed against Dazai’s forehead, at least a size too small.  

“The hat is ridiculous,” Dazai shot back.  He paused at the doorway to the warehouse, distracted, neck prickling.  There was supposed to be a car parked an alley over.  The street was damp and quiet, flickering streetlights reflecting in the filthy puddles.  The light caught at Chuuya’s bare head.  His hair was a tangled mess.  “You’re lucky you’re cute,” Dazai said quietly over Chuuya’s indignant sputtering, heart ticking out the seconds, listening, listening, listening to make sure it was safe to make a dash for the car.  If he stayed too long…

Chuuya fell silent, though, and his weight felt like more.

Dazai glanced down at him—bright eyes wide and cheeks blooming scarlet to match his wildfire hair—and he tried to swallow back what he’d said.  But the words wouldn’t fit back down his throat.  “Like a little animal,” he drawled past the word cute that had gotten lodged in his mouth.  Chuuya’s eyes narrowed.  Cute.  Cute, cute.  “A rodent, perhaps.  A very small one.”  

He smirked down at Chuuya, who snarled, looking nothing at all like a rodent. Dazai kept his body from relaxing as Chuuya’s blush faded because Chuuya would feel it, pressed as he was up against Dazai’s chest.  Chuuya opened his mouth to growl.

Shhh,” Dazai murmured, bracing himself to step out onto the street, and Chuuya was the one relaxing, sagging in Dazai’s grip, exhausted and somehow trusting Dazai more than his own bruised legs.

Last week, Oda had asked Dazai about his partner—tone too kind, eyes too gentle—and he’d smiled when Dazai said “little.”

“Chuuya is anything but little,” Oda said.

“Have you seen him?” Dazai had laughed, a little drunk and careless.

“I have,” replied Oda.  He watched Dazai quietly.  

Dazai was sober in an instant and thought Oda could have been terrifying if he had any other personality.

In his arms in the present, Chuuya shifted again, squirming in a way that made him hard to hold.  “I’m not cute,” he muttered.  

Dazai shook himself.  He thought he’d been standing in the doorway for a minute or so, but it might have been an hour.  Time.  His arms ached, muscles burning pleasantly.  He let out a breath.  “The cutest,” he said, risking Chuuya’s sparking indignation as he splashed out onto the back street, sprinting for the alley like a rat.

Chuuya’s squawking protests lit up the night, reflecting in the puddles and turning up the street lamps, pouring in through Dazai’s torn up insides.

late-night conversation

Description: Sleepless nights and heavy secrets lead to a much needed conversation between Mabel and her elusive Grunkle Ford.
Characters: Mabel Pines and Stanford Pines
Words: 2257
A/N: A birthday gift for @better-with-sweaters. Her bday was actually on the 19th but I’m fashionably late, as always. :’) Either way, I hope you had an awesome birthday, Michelle! Thanks for being such a great friend. And I hope you enjoy the fic. ♡

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Ben Solo has a quiet side, all soft caresses and languid kisses. He also has a passionate one that threatens to rip the seams of his mind and soul, one that consumes, takes and promises to drag her down with him. Rey knows about his duality, welcomes his complexities.

Then, a photo is pushed into her hands and she meets Kylo Ren.


Reylo modern AU || Read it in AO3

In the Moonlight #29

Fandom: Persona 5

Pairing: Akira/Mishima

Warnings: None

Prompt: “Maybe one where they’re at the beach and Mishima gets distracted by how hot Akira is in his swimsuit that he doesn’t notice the wave that knocked off his own swimsuit until Akira teasingly held it up and a cute chase ensued”

Dark curls, slightly damp from stray splashes of droplets, shone in the bright sunlight illuminating the warm day. A lighthearted taunt left Akira’s lips, but the gentle ocean waves and cawing of birds drowned out his speech. Not that Mishima would have comprehended the words anyway; his gaze drawn to the Phantom Thief, he remained enraptured with the water gleaming on lean muscle and sunshine sparkling in teasing eyes.

Akira, facing the beach, lifted his hand to wave at the dark feline basking on the sand. For the past few minutes he had been jokingly inviting Morgana into the water. Naturally Morgana adamantly refused each request.

Meanwhile, Mishima, who stood in the water hardly a dozen feet away from Akira, continued to lose in his battle for self-control because Akira was too damn hot for his own good.

Mishima’s shoulders jumped as he realized Akira start to turn his way. Snapping his eyes to a random spot—a bright blue umbrella leaning precariously on the beach—he failed to notice that the other male was shouting out a warning.

The sudden weight of a large wave barreled over him from behind. It mercilessly shoved him underwater and flooded into his mouth and nose. Flailing, panic engulfed him for the few seconds it took to find and breach the surface. The inside of his nose burned as he hacked up seawater, and, knowing with his luck that Akira must have seen it, pink flared across his face.

“Are you okay?!”

Turning toward the concerned voice, Mishima saw the other’s expression shift into relief. The taller male appeared completely unruffled; how he had managed to avoid the wave unaffected was so unfair.

But then Akira’s face grew unreadable as he plucked an object out of the water, and he held up a bundle of dark green wait a minute that looks like—

Mishima’s head snapped down to see that underneath the water he now lacked a crucial article of clothing.

Mortification scalding his cheeks more than the sun ever could, he swiftly ducked his hands into the ocean to cover himself. The huge wavte must have knocked his trunks off and sent them Akira’s way.

“You better come and get it, Yuuki.” Akira threw a teasing wink his way, and he spun the waterlogged fabric around his finger by the waistband. How the hell he managed that without slapping himself in the face with it, Mishima had no idea. “As much as I appreciate your boldness, flashing is a bit much before a first date.”

The shorter male opened his mouth to respond, but no words would give him his trunks back faster. So that was how he found himself rushing through the water toward Akira, who took a few long steps back but did relinquish it when Mishima caught him.

Life’s Feta with You

Pairing: Shiro/Keith

Rating: G

Summary: Keith usually likes having a boyfriend, sappy as Shiro might be.  But when the puns come out, how could he not reconsider?

Notes: Sheith Birthday Exchange gift for @fulltimedoodler.  I hope you enjoy reading as much as I did writing! :D


Shiro rolled over on the bed to watch Keith enter the Garrison dorm room, smiling gently.  The smile turned into a grin of delight as Keith spotted the movement and leaped approximately five feet into the air.

“Jesus, Shiro!”  Keith shoved the door closed, whirling to press his back to it, almost sagging in shock.  “Warn a guy!”

Shiro pushed himself up, at this point cackling too hard to actually respond, arms crossed over his stomach as he nearly doubled over.  For his part, Keith only pouted at him, which just made Shiro laugh harder.

“You’re the worst!”  With a huff, Keith snatched up one of the couch pillows and chucked it over, sending it sailing through the air and landing on Shiro’s face with a thump.


To Have A Dream - Chapter One

Hello again everyone! This will be updated everyday! Or at least I will be posting everyday from now on, so even if I do not post chapters of this in order you will be getting something to read no matter what!

Please give me some feedback on this piece! If I get some good feedback on it, then I will definitely be more encourage to update it and work more on it. I have a lot of the plot ironed out and written, but sometimes I make changes and I just love to hear about what the people want. So yeah, feedback is much appreciated!

*Note - I like to use the Read More feature so people can easily scroll past if they are not interested. Oftentimes the Read More feature hates mobile users, so that is why I also put my fics on AO3, the link is right below this!

AO3 link here.

*Note 2 - Since Dan is 18 in this, I made him a little bit shorter than he is now. He was about 6 foot when he was 18 and grew to be 6′3″, so please don’t tell me Dan’s height is wrong in this, hah.

Word Count: 2,197

Trigger Warning: Mentions of homophobic slurs.

Summary: As a male lyrical dancer, Dan has been called many things. On the bad side of the spectrum: Wuss, fag, gay, queer. On the good side of the spectrum: Brave, talented, rhythmic, gifted. He hears all the girls in his dance classes referred to as this, but Dan has yet to be called beautiful. Or, the one where Dan is a gifted dancer and all he wants is someone to dance for.

Genre: Light angst and light get-together type fluff!

Chapter 2 - Coming soon!

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coffee king

pairing: iwaizumi hajime/oikawa tooru
rating: explicit
chapter: 29/33
chapter summary:

Otaru Station wasn’t that far from his house, but by the time they parked and arrived, he was still twenty minutes late. The station was busy but Iwaizumi spotted Oikawa’s tall head peeking out from above the crowd instantly. He looked kind of like a tourist, wearing a pair of khaki coloured linen shorts, a blue short-sleeved button down and black slip-ons; he was staring down through his sunglasses thoughtfully at something on his phone, mouth curved up into a small smile, which automatically put a grin on Iwaizumi’s own face. 

Iwaizumi mentally prepared himself for some kind of taunt about being late, but the moment he tapped Oikawa on the shoulder and his boyfriend turned around, his lips stretched into a wide, sincere smile. He threw his hands around Iwaizumi’s neck and squeezed tightly, threatening to cut off Iwaizumi’s air supply. 

“I missed you,” he whispered, almost hesitantly, considering it had only been two days since they had last seen one another. 

“I missed you too,” Iwaizumi chuckled pulling Oikawa back so he could look at him properly. He seemed a little tired – most likely from the long train ride – but otherwise fine and not at all upset. But he also looked good, and Iwaizumi was immediately drawn to the stretch of Oikawa’s long, pale legs peeking out from right above his knees all the way down to his ankles. 

He must have stared at him for too long because Oikawa’s mouth quirked up and he said a little too loudly to be considered private, “Don’t undress me with your eyes in public, Iwa-chan.” 

“You’re such an asshole,” Iwaizumi huffed, looping an arm around Oikawa’s neck and pulling him down. 

read the rest on ao3!

The Veil Lifts

For the Third week of the Catastrophe Halloween Event! 

Note: Fae!Kureto and Peasant!Guren

Word Count: 2236

Pairing: Kureto Hiiragi/Guren Ichinose

Prompt: Third Week; favourite OTP (23 Oct) 

Note: This is just a really short one shot that I rushed but I really wanted to contribute to the third week! So here it is! 


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Little Matron - usabuns - 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia [Archive of Our Own]
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
By Organization for Transformative Works

Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Characters: Yaoyorozu Momo, Yaoyorozu Momo’s Parents
Additional Tags: Childhood Memories, Flashbacks, Canon Compliant, Expanding on Canon Info, (on the page where we see Momo first learning how to use her quirk), Momo is so Pure, No Angst, Character Study

Momo remembers the first time she tried making a matryoshka doll. She remembers the chipping paint and oblong body shape and cracked bottoms. She laughs, looking back, at the ones she’d created without faces and the others that had no heads at all.

Practice makes perfect.

I want an episode where Gabriel tries to Akumatize Marinette.

As in: “on purpose”. He did it to Nino, he did it to Simon, he did it to Santa, he can do it to anyone.

And so Gabriel meets Marinette, this passionate kid who really loves fashion, pastel pink, and banana-haired young models, as she is visiting Adrien, and he decides to ruin her day, because it should be about as easy as stealing jewelry from teenagers candy from a baby.

Gabriel has mastered ‘unpleasant jerk’, practically has a PHD in it. It’s second nature. When you look up 'ass’ in the dictionary, you find his picture next to a stock photo of a donkey. So he tunes it up to 'extreme ass’, aka ‘his normal’, and destroys Marinette’s hopes and dreams by, I don’t know, telling her she has no future in fashion except maybe as a costume designer for underfunded live action superhero shows.

She is devastated.

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He finds Lance waiting on his bed for him when he returns to his room, and can tell from a single glance that Lance knows. That somehow— either because Matt or Coran told him, or because he just understands Keith that well, even after so many months apart— Lance knows exactly what happened while Voltron was fleeing Naxzela. What Keith had been prepared to sacrifice. What he’d nearly done.

Lance looks up at the hiss of the door sliding shut. He hasn’t even changed out of his paladin armor. Not fully. His arm guards and chest plate have been removed and discarded on the floor, but otherwise he looks just as he did when Voltron finally reached the Castle again— singed, disheveled, and staring at Keith with large, mournful eyes.

Keith can’t bring himself to meet those eyes. They’re even more blue than Keith remembers, and so full of hurt it makes Keith’s chest ache. Lance should never have to look that way about anything. Particularly not because of him.

Keith turns away and takes his time removing his black, Marmora armor. He can’t bear to see Lance so upset. Can’t stand the heavy silence between them. The thick tension just waiting to snap. Can’t stand it at all, but also can’t think of anything to say to dispel it. Words were never his forte, after all. He was much better with actions. Except, this time, his actions are what’s causing this situation, and he doesn’t quite know how to handle it.

He hangs his armor in his closet— the one spot of black among all the red and white he’s so used to wearing. A visual reminder of all he’s left behind. All he’s given up so his team can keep moving forward. Across the room, Lance shifts. He shifts, and he clears his throat, and Keith closes his eyes, waiting, as always, for Lance to cut through the tension. For the berate that’s surely on his tongue. For the angry words and endless rants he’s come to expect from Lance.

It doesn’t come, though. When Lance finally speaks, it isn’t loud, or enraged, or anything Keith’s used to. It’s soft, instead. So soft he barely hears it. And so rough and broken it nearly breaks his heart.

“Keith,” Lance murmurs, voice shaking even over that single word. “Why?” Why did you leave? Why did you abandon us? Why did you give up? “You glorious, reckless idiot. Why did you do it?”

Why did you almost let yourself die?

Keith swallows thickly. “Something had to be done,” he answers. “It was the only choice.” He glances over his shoulder at Lance and gives him a sad smile. “After all, the universe needs Voltron. It doesn’t need me.”

“We need you,” Lance protests, standing. He crosses the room in three quick strides and turns Keith to face him, hands gripping Keith’s shoulders like iron vices, and the most serious expression Keith’s ever seen across his face. “I need you.”

And if that isn’t the most ridiculous thing Keith’s ever heard. Because if either of them needs the other, it’s not Lance. It’s not this boy who shines so brilliantly, who is everything Keith has ever wanted to be and more, who could probably charm the whole universe into peace if he really put his mind to it.

Keith’s smile turns wry and he shakes his head. “No you don’t, Lance,” he says, emphatically because he needs Lance to understand. “You don’t need me. Just look at everything you’ve done.” Look at all the people you’ve saved and inspired and encouraged in a way that I never could.

It’s not enough to convey everything Keith thinks about Lance, of course, but he honestly doesn’t think any words in the English language (or any language, even) will ever be enough. There’s no way to describe the way Lance shines in his element. The obvious joy he brings to his flying, and the fierce passion that flares through his fighting. The excitement he exhibits whenever they find a new ally. The way he draws people to him without any actual effort. The way he cares and protects and gives hope wherever he goes.

He’s a much better paladin than he gives himself credit for, and much more valuable to the team than Keith ever could be. Keith’s absence over the past few months has proven that. Has shown Voltron can continue, and even thrive, without him. That they would continue to do so even if Keith had died. They’d still have their heart, after all— it’s right there inside Lance. He’s the drive that pushes them all forward, and the glue that holds them all together, and if Keith can keep that alive by sacrificing himself, he doesn’t consider death too great a loss.

Clearly, however, Lance doesn’t agree. “That’s not what I meant,” he chokes out, voice watery and blue eyes shining with unshed tears. “That’s not what I meant at all, you idiot. This isn’t about the team, or Voltron, or even the whole goddamn universe.” His hands shift, sliding across Keith’s shoulders and up his neck to cup his face. Keith fights not to lean into the warmth of Lance’s hands, but when Lance gently tilts his head back he knows it’s a lost cause. He’s so weak to the man standing in front of him. Weaker still to the way his bright blue eyes bore into Keith, more intense than they’ve ever been before. More urgent. More desperate. More filled with longing.

“I’m your right-hand man, aren’t I?” Lance asks softly, so close now that Keith can feel his warm breath against this skin. “We’re in this together, you and me. I’d follow you to ends of the universe. So just please,” he pleads. “Please. Promise me you won’t go where I can’t follow.”

And how can Keith say no to that?

The tears are falling down Lance’s cheeks now, wet streaks against his dark skin. And, this time, seeing Lance so upset over him, over the near loss of him, Keith’s heart does break. It cracks and shatters under the weight of Lance’s grief, and Keith already knows it will never fully recover. Even if he tries to tape it back together and pretend it’s all alright, there will still be fragments missing— little shards that will belong to Lance, and Lance alone, whether Lance realizes that or not.

Keith closes his eyes and lets out a long breath. He turns his head into Lance’s hand, pressing his lips lightly against Lance’s skin, and if Lance is surprised by the gesture, he doesn’t show it. Doesn’t try to pull away or even protest.

“Ok,” he murmurs against Lance’s hand. “Ok, Lance. I promise.”

He’d do much more for Lance if Lance ever asked it of him, but supposes this promise is a good place to start. And when Lance smiles for the first time all day, and then pulls Keith into a tight embrace, he wonders why he ever thought leaving was a good idea. Lance’s arms are warm around him, more comforting than anything Keith’s ever known, and beneath the palm Keith’s spread flat against Lance’s back, he feels the faint, steady thump of Lance’s heart. Takes comfort in the fact that Lance is alive and well and right there with him. Takes comfort in the fact that Keith himself is still alive to feel it.

And, for now, that is enough.

Laps and Naps

Originally posted by ohh-bloodyhell

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x female!Reader - Cast x female!Reader

Request: So my idea was a fic with seb and reader on the set of Infinity War. Reader likes taking naps on the casts laps, and after a while seb notices that she’s never napped on his lap and gets a bit jealous. A few cast members notice his crush on the reader and one day reader finds seb and the rest of the cast sitting together and goes straight for his lap. The whole cast looks up in awe and snap multiple pictures and seb is all flustered and blushy. You can change it up if it didn’t make sense lol ☺️ (-anon)

Warnings: none, really!! just pretty fluffy stuff

Word Count: 1.2K

A/N: it’s been such a weird week, and i really hope today will be good. but i’ve been havin’ a pretty bad mental-problems sort of day streak, so any memes sent to me are and will be greatly appreciated !!

“Y/N,” a distant, low voice sneaks through your sleepy mind. “C’mon, Y/N, I have to be in the suit in five minutes.”

The groggy veil of sleep slowly lifts off of your as you begin to wake-up. You could feel a heavy hand beginning to gently shake your shoulder.

“But I was so comfy,” your tired voice grumbles.

“I know,” Chris’s soothing voice drifts through the room. “But you’ve been sleeping on me for almost an hour, and I really have to get ready.”

Fine,” you groan, lazily pushing yourself up into a sitting position, snuggling into the corner of the couch as you pry open your heavy eyelids. “But you should know, that was a good nap.”

You blink away the sleep from your vision and look around the room, your gaze locking on Anthony.

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