what else um

imagine your otp kinda

person a: hey come in me bro!

person b: d-don-don’t you mean “come at m-”

person a: bitch did i fucking stutter

We Can Try That

*Poke head* eeeeeeeeeeeeeey…hi.

So ha! I had a prompt last week (I’m so so sorry) from @goramidiot (again, so so sorry) and they wanted Blind!Lance and HA, yeah only that, and a guide dog, but like, I’m a Weak ass for Klance so *jazz hands* ta-daah?? 

Hope you liked it anyways!!!! It’s prety short? But pretty fluffy, no angst tonight, folks. 

Content: fluff, fluff, fluff, Klance, fluff, Blind Lance, fluff, post war, back on earth. 

Ps. pls excuse any bad grammar or typos? I only did like a quick edit bc that’s all the time I had but like?? …ha, enjoy, yey. 

Disclaimer: Voltron doesn’t belong to me. 


Keith taps his fingers against the surface of the table with an absent rhythm.

He resists the urge to look back at the entrance door of the Café and stare at it as long as it was necessary. He was barely lifting his free hand and guiding it towards his mouth, full intending to bite his nail off, when his phone buzzes on the table and catches his attention.

It’s a text and Keith’s heart skips a beat when he sees the contact’s name.

Five minutes away, omw (:

Four words and one emoji shouldn’t make him giddy but damn, his insides are all mixed up now and he feels like he will be throwing up butterflies any second now. Six years later and he stills feels like a teenager.

Unbelievable.

He unconsciously smiles as he re-reads the message before he drops his hand back to his leg. He let himself to let out a relief breath and leans back on the chair while he twirls the small spoon inside his latte slowly.

He steals a glance to the Frappuccino sitting in front of his own drink and prays for everything out there that he made the right choice when he ordered his date’s drink before he could choose.

Keith’s almost 99.99% sure that he got the drink right; it’s not like he doesn’t know his date’s likes or dislikes, because he do.

Being part of the same team that saves the Universe, and spending every day for six years up in space inside an Altean Castle, is enough to makes you learn about people’s choices on coffee.

Or in Lance’s case: people’s sugary death sentence.

Keith chuckles as he recalls the first time Lance had told the team what he would order the second he was back on Earth, right after seeing his family, of course.

Keith had promised to take him himself, if only to see how a drink such as Lance’s could exist.  

Back then it had been a joke. Back then they had been kids; pure, innocent, naïve and still unmarked by the war they were facing.

Now? Now they have scars in every way possible. They all survived and there’s not a single day where Keith’s not grateful of that fact, but some things–

The door’s bell rings, making a small echo around the silent room, and Keith’s head shots up, heart beating faster at the sight of a familiar tall brunet with dark sunglasses over his eyes and a small but bright smile on his lips.

–some things stay with you for life and turning a blind eye on them doesn’t always work.

“Lance.” Keith calls, standing up from his seat but standing beside the table, fully knowing that Lance preferred it like that.

Lance’s head instantly falls towards Keith’s direction and his smile only widens at Keith’s voice. The brunet lets out a small whistle and starts walking towards him with his trusting guide dog right beside him.

“Why hello there, Red.” Lance says, grinning happily at Keith and the black haired man can’t help but sigh in content as he takes Lance’s hand on his own.

“Hello, hello.” He says quietly, bringing their interlocked hands to his lips and dropping a quick kiss against Lance’s before he leans closer and drops another one on the brunet’s cheek. “Nice walk?”

Lance hums, taking advantage of their proximity and nuzzling his cheek against Keith’s lovingly. “Yep. Vic enjoyed the warm sun, didn’t you, boy?” He says, looking down to where his dog was sitting patiently.

Keith smiles when Vic looks up at his owner’s voice and sticks out his tongue contently.  “Good job, buddy. Thank you.” He praises softly and Lance chuckles.

“I’m thinking you already ordered for me, amor?” Lance asks, arching an eyebrow behind his sunglasses and Keith hums positively.

“Yes, I did order your sugary death, you maniac. You’re welcome.” Keith mumbles, rolling his eyes amusedly.

Lance cheers softly before he cups Keith’s face gently. “Thank you.” He whispers, a breath away from Keith’s lips but instead, he does a small eskimo kiss against Keith’s nose, earning a giggle from his boyfriend.

“Psh. Oh my god, Lance.” Keith laughs trying to push his face away but not really wanting to succeed. “Okay, alright, let’s sit down. You gotta tell me how the trip to Cuba went, love.”

Lance’s face lights up at the mention of his home land and he’s about to open his mouth when Keith cuts him off suddenly.

“Nope, wait.  Aren’t you forgetting something?” He asks and Lance frowns in confusion before his mouth forms a small ‘o’ in realization.

“Amor, are you sure? I don’t want to make you deal with all the stares when people see you with a blind guy.” Lance mumbles biting his lower lip nervously but he still raises his sunglasses up and Keith heart makes a flip when he sees the faint blue color in Lance’s eyes.

His gaze is unfocused, as it has been since the accident, his eyes not moving in the slightest but somehow staring right at Keith.  The black haired man just hums and leans closer, dropping a kiss on the corner of each eye before pulling back.

“They can stare all they want you know why?” He asks, now his turn to cup Lance’s face with his hands and continues when the brunet shake his head slowly. “Because my eyes are only on you.”

Lance blinks and then his bright smile is back on place, making Keith’s heart to fill up with joy and pride that he was able to make that happened.

“Cheesy mullet.” Lance mumbles but still nuzzles his forehead against his boyfriend’s.

Keith answers him with another eskimo kiss.

6

Six of Crows by Leigh Bardugo

Kaz leaned back. “What’s the easiest way to steal a man’s wallet?”
“Knife to the throat?” asked Inej.
“Gun to the back?” said Jesper.
“Poison in his cup?” suggested Nina.
“You’re all horrible,” said Matthias.

700 Puffles

Ok, so, when I was a kid, I used to get up to a lot of dumb shenanigans on Club Penguin. I think this was around third or fourth grade; I did a lot of trolly things then. Some of the bans and glitches they had to fix around that time period were because of me and some of my online friends at the time.

We figured out pretty quickly that most of the like, your base-level curse words, y'know the amateur curse words, they’re all BANNED. So we started coming up with more and more inventive ways to express our feelings to the public, so that’s why every once in a while they would roll out an update, and it’s like, “the term ‘bitchbaby’ is now banned”.

And um, what else did I do?

Oh right, so do you know how they had those expansion areas every once in a while? And there would be those little zones and each zone had the same default shop that they copy-and-pasted over.

But there was this one expansion area… it was a cave or mine shaft or something like that. The default shop that they had there, it was Real Glitchy. So I figured out that if you buy seven puffles it gives you some ridiculous number for the price of TWO. So what I did:

I BOUGHT 700 PUFFLES…. And then I gifted them to the other person in the shop whose name I didn’t know and then I waited. And then I forgot about that for, quite a while, and then some time a week later I got a very angry email from said person, with a screenshot of their home, which was floor-to-ceiling, wall-to-wall, just. Fur. And googly eyes. Like you could see nothing else, it was just puffle everywhere. They were rendering in and out of walls, like some of them were just plain feet, it was – it was an abomination.

And apparently once I read the email their main complaint? Not even the fact that I ruined their fucking household! It was the fact that when they opened the client and saw that, it CRASHED. Their Club Penguin client crashed, and when they opened their house and it loaded and there were seven hundred puffles.

I don’t know if you guys know this but puffles, as cute as they look (at least to some people), the sounds they make are not quite as cute. Especially when there’s seven hundred of them layered on top of each other, rendering in and out of walls emitting a sound collectively scary enough to get Lucifer to piss himself.

And yeah. That’s the story of why there’s a limit of 50 puffles that you can buy.

An angsty hc I’ve been thinking about for a couple of days now,

One day Cass finds an old youtube video of the Flying Graysons and excitedly goes and asks Dick if he could teach her, because she thinks that it looks like dancing in mid air

And Dick is over the moon because of course he would love to teach her how to use the trapeze and so he goes and sets everything up and helps her get ready and he’s so happy

But then he gets her up there and freezes

Because the last time he saw somebody he loved up on the trapeze he had also watched them fall

Dear Evan Hansen,
  • Today is going to be a good day, and here’s why,
  • Because today, not matter what else, um, today at least you’re you - no hiding, no lying, just you - and that’s- that’s enough. Maybe someday, everything that happened, maybe it will all feel like a distant memory. Maybe someday, no one will even remember The Connor Project, or me.
  • But maybe someday, some other kid will be standing here, staring out at the trees, feeling so alone, wondering if maybe the world might look different from all the way up there. Better.
  • And maybe he’ll start climbing one branch at a time and he’ll keep going - even when it feels like he can’t find another foothold - even when it feels… hopeless. Like every thing is telling him to let go, this time. Maybe this time, he won’t let go.
  • He’ll hold on. He’ll hold on, and he’ll keep going, keep going till he sees the sun.
  • All I see is sky, for forever.

Fic idea where a lonely person sells their soul to Satan to be their friend. And Satan just rolls with it until he realizes at the time of their death he genuinely likes them.

Since he can’t renege on the contract he takes them to Hell and puts them in a high position of power. Demons hardened by millenia of torture now have to answer to a shy, self-conscious, quiet, depressed, lonely person who has unintentionally become Satan’s #1