magnus and alec are both powerful leaders who are also boyfriends that love each other.
boyfriends who have disagreements but work through issues together, battle against foes together, are intimate together, protect one another and,more than just recollections of their past, share new experiences and their lives together.
Microfill: Cuddle Puddle! Someone got out of the Healing Pod and everyone wants to cuddle.
i’m sure this ‘someone’ will come as a big surprise. :)
When Shiro stumbles out of the cryopod, shivering and kitten-weak, the team is ready for him.
Keith and Hunk are first by Shiro’s side. Hunk wraps Shiro in a blanket immediately, the fabric warm and fresh from the space-heater Pidge built to live in the infirmary. Shiro burrows gratefully into the warmth. With Keith’s help, he staggers down to sit on the steps, blinking rather owlishly at the sudden light. Keith presses up against his side as Hunk drapes a second blanket over Shiro’s shoulders, just in case.
“You,” Pidge announces, hands on her hips as she bends down to exactly nose-height with Shiro, “are not allowed to do that again.”
“Noted,” Shiro croaks.
Lance snickers and butts Pidge gently out of the way, pressing a steaming mug into Shiro’s hands. “Here you go, Shiro. Drink up.”
“Thank you.” Shiro sniffs at the mug’s contents curiously, at first content to just hold the warmth in his hands. “What happened? What time is it?”
“Mid-afternoon,” Keith supplies. Shiro takes his first sip, humming with delighted surprise. Hunk beams, large hands bracing Shiro’s shoulders. Keith waits until Shiro’s taken a second and then a third sip of the hot chocolate before he clarifies: “Mid-afternoon, three days later.”
“Don’t kill him!” Lance exclaims, quick-wrapping his hands around Shiro’s before Shiro can drop the mug. “He just got out!”
“T-three days?!” Shiro sputters.
“Which is why you aren’t allowed to do that ever again,” Pidge repeats, glaring.
“It was just a scratch,” Shiro protests weakly.
“Sure,” Lance says, “Scratches just so happen to be poisoned all the time. Coran says you were lucky. Don’t put us through that again, man. I’m serious. Keith got all morose and woopy.”
“I did not,” Keith says.
Lance presses the back of his hand to his forehead dramatically, the pose totally ruined by his shit-eating grin. “No, I can’t! I’m not ready to lead Voltron-”
“I’m going to kill you,” Keith growls. He makes no move to get up.
Shiro tilts his head back, locking eyes with Hunk. “Three days?”
“Three days,” Hunk confirms. He squeezes Shiro’s shoulders. “Which is why we’re taking the rest of the day off. Allura and Coran said the poison’s all gone, but you might be a little weak for a day or so.”
Shiro frowns down at his mug as if it would contain answers (or better yet, a fast forward button for recovery). “Do we have time?”
“We’re making time,” Keith says, firmly.
“That’s the leader-Keith we all know and love,” Lance crows. “Shiro, hurry up and finish your drink. We’ve got plans.”
Shiro blinks. “Plans?”
“Would you look at that,” Coran comments softly, several vargas later.
All five of the Paladins are fast asleep in the main lounge, limbs akimbo and sprawled heavy in slumber. Shiro’s stretched out the length of the curving couch, snoring peacefully. Pidge is curled up practically on his chest, glasses set neatly on top of the couch and guarded by four snoozing mice. Keith’s fast asleep along Shiro’s right, body twisted in a way that shouldn’t be physically possible but somehow keeps all of him on the couch and not the floor. Lance is on Shiro’s other side, squished comfortably between Shiro and the couch; Hunk’s asleep right next to him, legs tangled up with both Shiro’s and Lance’s. A soft pile of blankets covers all five of them, artistically tossed and kicked loose to not cover noses or the occasional foot. The light of the softly playing ‘moo-vee’ washes over faces and hair, highlighting shadows lined in sleep.
Allura smiles fondly, gesturing Coran down the hall so as to not wake their sleeping friends. “I suppose we can ask Shiro tomorrow if he is feeling better. Coran, what is the matter?”
“Oh, nothing.” Coran sniffs, indeed wiping away a nostalgic tear. “Just thinking. The Paladins of new, just like the Paladins of old!”
Allura sniffs too, more of a huff as she folds her arms. “Oh, Coran. My father never had slumber parties in the lounge.”
“Ah, the innocence of youth,” Coran says, fondly, and puts his arm around Allura’s shoulders as they head off down the hall.
This is James talking about knowing Johannah and Louis long before the X-Factor. He talks about how “Him and Harry would come around” and corrects himself, then “the other boys” would come over as well.
As much as I’d like to dwell on James confirming Larry being his guests and hanging out with him, my attention is caught up by his sweater.
Now, that doesn’t tell us much by itself, but I was interested because I remember that “blind for love”. Do you know how does it translate in french?
“L’aveugle par amour” That’s right. Do you know who wore that?
This little one. Blind for love. Tiger. L’aveugle par l’amour. Bee.
Same clothing line, same message. That’s Gucci.
You know who usually wears Gucci? Harry Styles. Do you know someone who has a Tiger tattooed on his thigh? And now, years later, has a Bee on his arm? Still Harry Styles.
I know maybe it’s nothing new and people already knew that, but I’m doing the math right now and I’m discovering this all by myself, so. Merry Christmas.