peace is the answer

mmeishi  asked:

3, 4, 5, 19, 30 (especially fic!!)

Mei!!! thanks a lot :)

3. favorite character and why

Yuuri Katsuki, the light of my eyes. Ultimate sweet boy, oblivious to his skills, to his charm. I JUST LOVE HIM, everything about him, he’s sweet and fun. Competitive and serious too! and even when he’s sulking he’s the best. Only love for Yuuri.

4. least favorite character and why

Michele Crispino, dude, leave your sister IN PEACE.

5. favorite rare pair

without a doubt, Yuuri/Chris 🔥🔥🔥

19. already answered here

30. favorite fanworks (art and/or fic)

yeah this is gonna get long, answer under the cut :))


So, fic rec time: what is not here I might have already recced here, also check my moodboards (shameless self promo):

- Modified Cupid by @diedraechin: canon divergence + cute meet!!! this is basically Yuuri pole dancing, smitten Viktor, Yuri’s little crush on Catsuki (oh yes, never getting over that pun) but also a really sweet fluffy fic (and hot af), laugh out loud,  A++ great read, like everything Sassy writes, hail the queen!!

whenever, wherever @renaissancefic: I’m obsessed with the idea of Yuuri and Viktor crossing paths before and this fic fulfills all my needs, really lovely fic, Mallory’s prose is to die for.

No Less Unthinkable by @rageprufrock: doing some research for another fic list I’m gonna do 👀👀 I found this gem and I’m so glad I did. This is the path of Yuuri’s love life (more like sex life) leading to Viktor and following the show. It’s perfection? Yuuri’s characterization is amazing? I could honestly go on and on about this. Also, this is canon now. 

faking in secret by @gia-comeatme: fake relationship and dating in secret all in one, bless you Essa! Pining Viktor and oblivious heartbreaker Yuuri all under the excuse of getting free stuff, super funny fic, 12/10 would recommend.

Set my Heart on Fire by JustBeHappy: I don’t know why I haven’t recced this before????  Yuri gets to witness the epic rivalry between Viktor and Yuuri! funny, and light, great use of social me, also, Yuri’s lowkey crush on Yuuri is 💘💘

Money Shot by @captain-erwinmerica : I’m ready to die since chapter one, Yuuri ex fighter ex camboy current…. sugar baby? involved with the misterious Viktor. Seriously, hot as hell, and frustrating but in the best way. 

- drunk in love by @katsukiyuuristrophyhusband: Viktor runs a bar (maybe he never works lol) and Yuuri is his favorite costumer. Fluff and pining for days, Yuri is the voice of reason I love him, okay?

feel like a quote out of context by @pencilwalla: canon divergence, Yuuri somehow insults Viktor and starts this rivalry. Viktor is intrigued and Yuuri regrets everything. This is miscommunication at it’s finest, but it’s not angsty?? hilarious and unique!

- Be My Sex Coach, Victor! by @lucycamui: Yuuri is really bad at sex and pornstar Viktor might help him change that. Super funny, light with a very real feel to it. Phichit in this fic won my heart.

i will go down with this ship! by @yoyoplisetsky: we have Yuuri and Viktor as co-stars of a show. And people ship them, and also the characters, and also this two fic writers. All this level of ships fucks my mind in the best way, amazing fic also the show’s plot is really interesting!!!!


And about fanart? pretty much all I reblog I love, maybe check this tag

anonymous asked:

I'm probably wromg, but i headcanmon that Mc was meant to be a replacement for Rika. Someone who could go in and understand the members and give them what they need. Once they did the the plan was for Rika to tear her away from them and bring them into despair and make them see the world the way she did. Get them to see that the never ending party was something good. Something to give them solice. Something to bring them peace.

huh, I can’t give you a definite answer here, anon. That sounds pretty right to me, though! It seems coincidental in the game, but maybe that’s the point of it, ya know? 

Keep that headcanon, love *finger guns*

Michael Jackson cast 80 members of the Los Angeles’ Crips and Bloods for the music video “Beat It” in hopes to foster peace between them. 

…did it work??

The short answer is no.

The long answer is that it introduced the idea of a truce in the minds of younger gang members on both sides. They grew up to lead both the 1988 peace summit (which included a brief ceasefire) and the 1992 truce. The truce, and the Rodney King Riots which coincidentally started the very next day, fundamentally changed gang life in LA, making the streets safer, dropping the murder rate, and increasing illegal drug profits for about a decade.

He was fucking wonderful and did wonderful things for people without ever asking for credit for it.

Photo: Michael and some Crips!

MJ is a great example of how black celebrities try to use their opportunities and fame to help the black community. I want modern black artists to act like him. 

#BlackExcellence #BlackPride

Hobi: Ahh coming, coming! ~

Hobi: Ah hey Chim Chim, what’s up?

Hobi: Eh handsome guy you say? Coming my wa–

Hobi: — ?

Both: !!!!!!!!!

Hobi: !!! HOLY SHIT – hey dude I gotta go – CALL YOU BACK LATER!!!!!!! *abruptly hangs up*

@ask-chimchim

2

Micah 7:7 

But as for me, I will watch expectantly for the Lord;  I will wait for the God of my salvation. My God will hear me.

kkatekane  asked:

Give me the Layla and Warren conspiracy theories

Okay, listen up. First off, we have this rumor off of the TV Tropes website:

It’s since been taken down and isn’t exactly damning in and of itself, but bear with me.

A lot of the characters’ names in this movie mean something; of the central characters, there’s the Warren Peace pun, the obvious Will Stronghold, and Gwen Grayson, which a lot of people have pointed out may be a combination of Spider-Man’s girlfriend Gwen Stacy, and DC superhero Dick Grayson. The only main character’s name that doesn’t seem to mean anything is Layla Williams, which is weird considering she’s the female lead, and notably similar to supervillain Poison Ivy, whose alter ego is Pamela Lillian Isley, originally Dr. Lillian Rose, so they totally could have gone in that direction.

Now, remember the scene where they’re going through Steve and Josie’s old high school yearbook?

When they get to the picture of Warren’s father Barron Battle, Steve says “Always swore he’d have his revenge on me. And he totally stole the lead in Oklahoma!” and judging from Will and Josie’s reactions he still brings this up a lot.

Oklahoma! is a famous play in which the main storyline revolves around the male lead, Curly McLain, trying to convince the female lead, Laurey Williams, to acknowledge her affections for him. Spoiler alert: he succeeds and at the end of the play they get married.

Laurey Williams.

Layla Williams.

They just called her Layla because no one names their kid Laurey anymore (no offense to anyone named Laurey), and this is clearly foreshadowing Warren and Layla getting together: Warren’s father “stole” the lead in Oklahoma!, a role centered on a romance with Laurey Williams, from Will’s father; ergo Warren was going to “steal” Layla from Will in a future film.

To make the evidence even more damning, the secondary storyline in Oklahama! follows a guy called Will Parker and his quest to marry this girl Ado Annie. He doesn’t look twice at Laurey. I rest my case.

Of course, it’s perfectly possible that is just another one of those million weird coincidences that show up way too often in a medium where creators always claim they actually think about this stuff, OR

it’s. foreshadowing. Prove me wrong.

@vastiaisms

anonymous asked:

why do you like aaron gross

okay w o w this is such a loaded question I’m going to ignore the use of the word gross here unless you literally want to fight me. The short answer to that question is that I started loving Aaron the most when I realized literally no one else did, but there’s a lot more to it than that.

Let’s take a little journey together:

  • Aaron Minyard is the most underappreciated character in the whole of the TFC fandom
    • literally Jean, Jeremy, and Bee get more love than him and all of them just have the briefest scattering of scenes like???
    • the only person ya’ll talk about less is Seth, and he literally died after one book, whereas Aaron is a major player in all three
  • I feel like in general the fandom despises Aaron because Neil despises Aaron, which is natural and all because the book is in Neil’s POV so we’re literally trained to think the way he thinks, but I can’t stand that mentality tbh
  • Also, typically I’ve noticed a lot of people don’t dive in enough to understand that Aaron and Andrew are a lot more similar than everyone seems to think
    • you hear over and over again how Andrew would burn the world for Aaron, that Aaron’s well being is far more important than anyone else’s
    • but how often do we consider the fact that Aaron would burn the world for Andrew, too?
  • We spend a lot of time devoting ourselves to Neil, Andrew, and Kevin (and even Jean, for crying out loud) because they have these uniquely horrible pasts that they have to overcome through the series
    • Okay. Cool. Awesome. I love me so damn character development and redemption and revenge as much as the next reader
    • But are we forgetting Aaron’s past? Aaron’s present even? And how much all that has happened to Aaron and to Andrew has literally ruined Aaron’s life and how hard he’s had to work to come to terms with it?
  • let’s take a trip back in time, to a young Aaron living alone with Tilda

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

I know you probably have a lot of requests with the gods and monsters - but would you ever do an Ares based one?

Zeus’s mistress Io remains in her form of a cow, guarded by Hera’s servant Argus, and Hera is content.

She will remain in that form until her death. Hera hopes that lying with her husband was worth the sacrifice.

Zeus won’t speak to her, unwilling to admit the cow is actually his lover and ensure her death, and equally unwilling to stand against his wife to try and rescue her. Hera has him just where she wants him, and it can’t last, it never does, but she intends to enjoy it while it does.  

Then Artemis comes to her, gold and fierce. She never flinches away from her queen, staring her in the face as if she is nothing more than another of her huntresses. If Hera did not hate her for being her husband’s daughter, she thinks she might actually like the girl. “Io has a destiny,” she says, “you must let her go.”

“I don’t care for her destiny,” Hera says idly, “especially when that destiny involves getting with my husband’s child.”

“She is to give birth to a new line of kings,” Artemis hisses, “to be the wife of a death god, to be mother goddess of a whole new people. She is not meant for us. You must let her go.”

“I am Hera,” she says, “I am Queen. I must do nothing.”

Artemis growls, hand twitching for her bow, but Hera only raises an eyebrow. Let the girl try. There are few that can stand against her, and the huntress is not among them. Artemis lets out a low breath and says, “Do it, my queen, and I will grant you what it is you most desire.”

“Some peace and quiet?” Hera asks.

“A child,” she answers. “Let Io go, let her fulfill her destiny as a goddess of the Black Land of the Nile. If you do that, I, the patron goddess of childbirth, will personally use every ounce of power I possess to ensure you conceive and deliver a child of Zeus.”

Hera’s eyes narrow, “Neither my power nor his has ever been able to achieve this. What makes you think you are any different?”

“We all have our domains,” she says, “just as you cannot command the sea, just as your husband has no power over the art of weaving, so can I ensure a healthy child when you could not.”

She taps her fingers against her throne. They call her a mother goddess, though she’s raised no children. Hephaestus may be her precious son, but he doesn’t know that it was not her that threw him from Olympus. Very few people know that. And she didn’t raise him regardless, that honor belongs to Hecate.

A child, of her and Zeus. A child she can raise.

“I accept,” she announces. “You may take her, and Zeus may fulfill her destiny.” She leans forward, brings the oppressive weight of her power to the fore and lowers the pressure of the air until Artemis is left shivering. “Know this, Patron Goddess of Childbirth. If Io births a son of Zeus before I do, I will travel to the Black Land of the Nile and slay her and her children with my own two hands. Not even Hades will be able to put her back together again.”

“Yes, my Queen,” Artemis says, unable to keep her teeth from chattering.

~

Hera is true to her word. She allows Hermes to think he’s tricked Argus and to steal Io away. She pretends to be outraged at the audacity, at the pure white cow traveling to the sands of the Nile.

Artemis is true to her word. Hera lies with Zeus, like she has so many times before, and a child grows inside of her. One day she stands before her husband and brings his hand to the swell of her stomach, “This is your child.”

Something almost like happiness steals across his face. She forgets, sometimes, that they hate each other only as much as they love each other. After so much time together, many would think it would be one or the other. They simply opted for both.

Artemis is there during the birth, her easy confidence more comforting then Hera will ever admit. Delivering Hephaestus was easy compared to this. She screams and cries and Hestia’s hands on her shoulders are all that keeps her from collapsing and begging someone to just cut the child from her. She doesn’t think she can die in childbirth, not with Artemis between her legs. She wishes she’d thought to ask before this began.

But she does not die. Her son is born, just as healthy and beautiful as Hephaestus was. “Well done,” Artemis says softly, placing the squirming child into her arms.

Zeus touches her hair and kisses his son’s forehead. “We shall call him Ares.”

“Very well,” she agrees, so tired her eyes struggle to stay open.

She hands her son to Hestia, and finally allows sleep to take her.

~

Ares grows into the spitting image of his father. Same copper-red skin, same silky black hair. Her husband keeps it short, but her son lets his grow long. The minutes Hera spends every morning brushing his hair are among her favorite.

He has an eager smile and a soft heart. Hera doesn’t know where he got it, since it’s certainly not from her or Zeus. Demeter tolerates his bumbling after her, though any time Kore attempts to meet her cousin Demeter’s temper frays. Poseidon allows Ares to explore the depths of the sea with a minor sea god acting as his guide. Apollo plays for him, and Artemis teaches him to hunt. Zeus’s lightning doesn’t burn his son, and when storms rage he takes Ares to the top of Olympus and teaches him to throw lightning bolts.

Hera selfishly does not allow Ares to go to the underworld. She knows he would be safe there, that Hades would protect him as he protected Hephaestus, but that’s precisely why she won’t allow it. They got to raise one of her sons already. It pains her to share Ares with them now.

He is happy, and kind, kinder than anyone would expect a child of her womb to be.

“He must choose a domain,” Zeus rumbles, watching Ares shoot arrows with perfect accuracy.

“He is a child still,” Hera says, “let him remain so for a little longer.”

“If he does not choose a domain,” Zeus warns, “one will choose him. We are gods. We must be gods of something.”

She flickers her gaze at him, and he scoots an inch away from her. “He is a child, and for now a child he will remain. We are not Demeter. We shall not thrust the responsibilities and power of a deity on a child who is not prepared for it.”

Zeus disapproves, but says nothing more.

Her son will be the god of something patient, something soft. The god of lost children, of heartbroken suitors, of forgiveness. Something where his gentle heart will aid him instead of hurt him.

She traded her happiness for power. She doesn’t regret it. But Ares doesn’t need to do the same – she’s the most powerful goddess that still walks the earth. He’s her son, and he’ll want for nothing she can provide.

~

Ares is almost fully grown, long hair reaching his hips even braided, and the strength of his limbs is such that he can keep up with Artemis on her most vigorous of hunts, that he can throw his father’s lightning bolts halfway across the world.

He’s been to every place, and met every god of the earth, sea, and sky.

Except for one.

 It’s not hard to find the volcano. He’s strong enough and old enough to take care of himself, and his mother does not worry when he says he’s going to the earth. But he did not tell her where, precisely, on the earth he was going.

He has strong legs.  It’s easy for him to climb to the top of the volcano. He’s almost made it there when something grabs his shoulders, stilling him. He turns, and stares into a single large eye. “What are you doing?” the cyclopes growls.

“I’m looking for Hephaestus,” he says, “He’s my brother.”

“My master has many brothers,” the cyclopes says.

Ares shakes his head. He is not the product of his father’s fling with a sprite or mortal. “I am Ares, son of Zeus and Hera. Just as Hephaestus is. I came here to meet my brother.” The cyclopes hesitates. He asks, “What’s your name?”

“Brontes,” he answers, surprised.

“Brontes,” he smiles, “I just want to meet him. I’ve never met him before. I won’t linger.”

There’s a moment where Brontes looks conflicted, and Ares tries to look as unassuming as possible. “Fine,” he huffs, “but don’t get angry at me if he dips you in lava.”

“That would be fun,” he says brightly. Lightning doesn’t burn him. So far the only thing hot enough to cause him pain is Hestia’s fire. He probably could go swimming in lava.

Brontes looks at him as if he’s slightly unhinged. He just keeps smiling.

~

There are more cyclopes underneath, and bright glittering machines that Ares can’t even begin to wrap his mind around. “Who are you?” someone demands, and a hand grabs his wrist and yanks him away from a boiling vat of lava that he’d been peering into.

He looks up at a man taller and broader than he is. He has skin almost as dark as the obsidian of his volcano, but lighter eyes. They are the color of dark amber, of molasses. “We have the same eyes,” he says happily.

Hephaestus releases him instantly. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“Why not?” he asks, “The mortals talk of you. No one else will. But you’re my brother, right?”

“You shouldn’t be here,” he repeats, “Does Zeus know where you are?”

He shrugs, taking a step closer. His brother takes a step back. He wonders if he’ll have to treat Hephaestus like a spooked horse.  “Father doesn’t keep track of where I am. Mom know I’m on earth.” Hephaestus flinches, small enough that he almost doesn’t notice. “We have her eyes, you know.”

He can’t stop starring at Hephaestus’s skin. They do not work like mortals – Demeter, Hestia, Zeus, and Hera are all different shades despite coming from the same parents. But – Ares looks so much like his father. Kore looks like Demeter. Yet Hephaestus looks nothing like their father. He can see their mother in him, in the eyes and shape of his jaw, even in how angry he is right now. He looks like Hera does when she’s about to lose her temper, lips pressed into a thin line and the careful stillness of his shoulders.

“I wasn’t trying to make you angry,” he says plaintively, “I only wanted to say hello.”

Unlike their mother, Hephaestus lets out a deep breath and seemingly all of his anger along with it. “I’ve been avoiding you.”

“Why? You don’t even know me.”

Hephaestus kicks him lightly in the shin, the pretty gold and copper of his metal legs catching his eye. “You have legs, and I do not. Hera did not throw you from Mount Olympus as she threw me.”

Ares looks hard at his brother’s face. The stories say his mother threw her son away for being ugly, but he seems just as handsome as any other god Ares has seen. His features are strong and chiseled, and he supposes that could have looked unattractive on a baby, but –

– his mother loves him. Hera loves him with a ferocity only matched by her temper, she loves him at his most mischievous and irritable, loves him when a stray thunderbolt sets Demeter’s hair on end, loves him when even Artemis and Apollo have grown tired of his antics, loves him when Athena can tolerate no more of his questions. He is her son, and so her love comes without conditions.

He doesn’t think Hera would have loved his brother any less just because of how he looked.

He also knows that if he tries to say that, it’s likely Hephaestus will push him into a lava pit.

“Well, that’s not my fault,” he says, “If you don’t want us to be brothers, can’t we at least be friends?”

Hephaestus’s face softens. He looks like their mother then too.  He crosses his arms, “You can’t tell your parents.”

Our parents, he thinks but doesn’t say. “Obviously. Where did you get so many cyclopes?”

The last remnants of his brother’s stern façade shatters as he throws back his head and laughs.

~

Ares is very near maturity, more adult than child, and his father constantly pressures him to choose a domain. He usually quiets with one sharp glance from his wife, but the fact remains that it is time for Ares to take his place among the gods of the pantheon, to have temples in his name and worshipers like a proper deity.

He doesn’t really want any of that.  He wants to continue hunting with Artemis, learning with Athena, building with Hephaestus.

His brother lets him help out in his workshop sometimes, if he’s very careful and does exactly as he’s told. Otherwise he sits on a table, legs swinging, and watches his brother work and tells him about what he does in the time in-between visits. He talks about their mother enough that Hephaestus doesn’t flinch at her every mention, which Ares can only consider an improvement. Sometimes Brontes will stand beside him and they’ll eat sweet buns together.

Unfortunately, all things, good and bad, must come to an end.

~

There are two giants, Otus and Ephialtes, who grow tired of hearing of the golden boy of Olympus, who grow jealous of his kindness and his beauty.

These two giants sneak onto Mount Olympus in the middle of the night, sneak into Ares’s room, and kidnap him. They’re not stupid enough to attempt to kill him. Instead, they stuff him into an urn, and seal him inside. Ares rages and fights, uses every trick he can think of to break out his prison, but none of them work.

Stuck at the bottom of the urn and seething, he can’t help but think that if he’d listened to his father and chosen a dominion he might be strong enough to free himself. But he didn’t, so he can’t, and instead he waits.

And waits.

And waits.

Days turn to weeks turn to months. He knows they’re looking for him. He knows his mother will tear apart the whole universe attempting to find him if nothing else. But – what if they can’t? What if he’s stuck in this urn for the rest of eternity?

In his darkest moments, his sorrow turns to rage. He is a god, son of Hera and Zeus, how dare they do this to him?

Then, one day, the urn opens.

Hermes peers down into it, then his face splits into a grin. “We’ve been looking for you!” He reaches down and hauls Ares out, and for a moment all he can do is blink at the glaring sun. Then his vision clears, and he sees they’re in the midst of a battle. The giants are fighting against the gods, against his parents, against the twins, against his brother. It’s bloody carnage, but – he can’t help but feel touched that all these people came looking for him. “Almost everyone offered to help find you,” he says, “but Hera didn’t want to draw too much attention to ourselves trying to sneak into their territory.”

No sooner has Hermes finished speaking than a giant barrels into his mother with sickening snap. Her shoulder slopes at a grotesque angle, but it hardly even slows her down.

“I have to help,” he says, a desperate urgency filling him. They came to help him, and now they’re getting hurt. That’s never something he’d wanted.

“Ares, wait!” Hermes calls out as he goes hurtling toward the battle. He doesn’t wait. Fighting on the ground can only do so much good, they’re strong but they’re outnumbered one hundred to one. He darts to Artemis, twisting around the bodies she’s throwing over her shoulder. “I need your bow!”

“Ares!” she says joyously, then, “What?”

“Trust me,” he says, “give me your bow.” A giant comes running towards them. Artemis flips him over her shoulder while continuing to stare at him in confusion. He’d be impressed if he wasn’t so worried. “Artemis, please!”

She hands over her bow. She moves to give him her quiver of arrows as well, but he’s already moving away from her. Next it’s to his father, who’s hurtling lightning bolts towards the swarm of giants crowding him. They’re deadly, but only so effective at close-range. He grabs a sizzling lightning bolt right from Zeus’s hand, the only being on the planet who could do that and survive, and keeps running. “Get clear!” he calls out over his shoulder. “Everyone move!”

He runs up past Hermes, needing to get to high ground for this to work. “Get everyone off the battlefield,” he says to Hermes. “Now.”

Hermes pulls a face, but by the time he makes it to the top of the mountain, the gods have shaken off most of the giants, are far enough away that he doesn’t have to worry.

He can do this. He’s Ares, the son of Hera and Zeus. He’s been trained in archery by the great huntress herself. He breaths in, and strings his father’s lightning bolt like an arrow. He pulls it back, breaths out, and lets the lightning bolt fly.

It lands in the middle of the battlefield full of confused giants. With a great clap of thunder and a burst of light, they’re all gone.

All that remains of the traitorous giants is a crater.

The gods are approaching him, his mother at a limping gait that makes his chest ache. Zeus gets to him first, grin stretched wide as he grabs him by both his shoulders. “My boy! That was magnificent!”

“Thanks,” he says. The smell of charred flesh is in the air, and it makes his stomach roll.

They kidnapped him. They stuffed him in an urn for over a year. They hurt his mom.

That doesn’t mean he enjoyed it. He never wants to do anything like that ever again.

“This was destiny,” his father says enthusiastically, and Ares has no idea what he’s talking about. “This is what you’re meant to do, son.”

He stares. He hopes it’s not.

The other gods are still at the bottom of the mountain. Artemis and Apollo each have one of his mother’s arms slung over their shoulders and are helping her up the mountain. Hermes and Hephaestus aren’t far behind.

He’s never seen his father look so proud of him. There’s a leaden pit in his stomach he can’t explain.

“In honor of my son’s great feat,” Zeus booms, his voice carrying across air, speaking with the voice of the king of the gods so his words become law, so they spread to every corner of the world, “I declare him Ares, God of War.”

Ares can’t breathe.

This isn’t what he wanted.


gods and monsters series, part xvii

read more of the gods and monsters series here

anonymous asked:

HC that Keith has rlly bad nightmares, and even though they're rivals, he always goes to Lance's room. He'll wake Lance up and Lance doesn't say anything, he just holds up the covers, letting Keith climb in. Lance will pull Keith close and rest his chin on Keith's head, one hand in his hair and the other rubbing circles in his back,, kissing Keith's forehead and telling him that everything is OK,until he falls asleep. And in Lance's arms it usually takes about 5 minutes for him to fall asleep

oh my goooooddd this is so 👌 good omg

  • okay so the first time this happened lance was pretty grumpy because he doesn’t like to be woken up from his beauty sleep
  • and he didn’t notice keith had been crying because it’s so dark and he was about to kick him out until he heard the crack in keith’s voice when he said his name, and lance had never heard keith sound so…vulnerable?
  • he immediately sat up and in the softest voice “hey, hey, whats wrong keith?”
  • “I-I just..can’t sleep alone tonight. I keep having the same nightmare over and over again” and he starts rambling and he really doesn’t want to cry again, not in front of lance and why did he even come in here but the more he talks about it the more panicked he gets and the tears just burst out of him
  • lance is completely baffled because he had no idea this side of keith existed or why keith would come to him of all people and the implications of keith not wanting to sleep alone?? all he knew was he was pulling keith towards him and “you can sleep with me tonight, okay?”
  • keith just nods into the crook of lance’s neck and as soon as they lay down keith shrinks into lance’s embrace so how could lance not pull him in closer and whisper to him it’s gonna be okay
  • keith doesn’t have nightmares like this, this is good
  • being with lance is good
  • lance comes to expect keith in his room every night so he just keeps keith’s pillow there now
  • one time lance accidentally fell asleep without waiting up for keith, so keith just cozied up next to him and pulled lance’s arm around him. lance woke up shocked and briefly flustered, but something about waking up next to keith made him happy
  • keith now has the pleasure of knowing that lance mumbles in his sleep
  • after a while lance is so used to the routine and is entirely comfortable with keith laying next to him that one night, after letting keith crawl into his arms, he instinctively kisses keith’s forehead and then immediately freezes because oh nonononono i just made this awkward
  • he feels keith stiffen in his arms and is about to let go but then keith bless this boy he can’t look lance in the eyes but he mumbles a thank you into lance’s chest. lance is afraid to move at first but then he slowly runs his fingers through keith’s hair, and when keith doesn’t complain, lance adds “touching keith’s hair” to the list of hobbies he’d like to take up
  • so they just fall into this routine where they cuddle together and are at peace together and keith doesn’t have nightmares anymore and he doesn’t want to find out if they’ll come back once he’s on his own. but he honestly looks forward to this every day because…lance hugging him, and kissing his forehead, and the way they fit together when lance has his chin on his head and his arms around him, and oh man this wasn’t his intention when he wandered into lance’s room that first night
  • keith might be able to kick lance’s ass in combat but the thought of lance doing anything remotely affectionate towards him makes him weak

My sin was great Your love was greater
What could separate us now

Hillsong Worship - What a Beautiful Name