#pidge-drabble

[lumieumie]

Something something Lance was treated like shit in season 7 and it was never actually talked about so if dreamworks won’t do it I’ll do it instead

[just-a-dinosaur-i-guess]

“you look lovely.” + horrorcule

“clean this up, won’t you?” + fyostein

“its… you?” + fyolaine

“what are you doing here.” + fukumori wrong fuku

“I can’t believe you!” gods worst yuricule

“I don’t know what I am.” + teruko & tachihara

“Where did you go?” + teruko & fukuchi

YAYYY

under the cut cause these r a lot

"you look lovely." + horrorcule

"You look lovely." Kudzu purrs, adjusting Roberta's scarf, uncaring of the warmth that's ripped away from him with every brush against her. Against Death. Roberta sighs softly, not meeting his eyes as she chews on her lip nervously. "It's hardly a change from my normal outfit." "I know." Kudzu leans closer. "And I think you look lovely in that too." Her face flushes a lovely shade of red, and Kudzu prides himself on hearing Morella giggle from the other room.

"clean this up, won't you?" + fyostein (doa fyosteinnikonathan au but that's not rlly relevant)

The carpet is a mess, and Fyodor almost thinks a dog would be neater. Steinbeck sits calmly on Fyodor's chair, looking at xem while grinning easily. Fyodor smiles curtly. "Clean this up, won't you?" "Hmm." Steinbeck leans back a little. The bell collar makes a soft chime. "Prolly should do that, yeah." He makes no move to. Fyodor considers strangling him.

"it's... you?" + fyolaine

Verlaine does not get many visitors. Least of all after the end of the world. (Though for them it ended much earlier.) So they really do have a right to be surprised, when the footsteps down the hall, which are each taken with the confidence of a carnivore dragging a corpse, stop in front of them. They stare at a demon. "It's.. you?" And they know xe brought hell with xem.

"what are you doing here." + fukumori wrong fuku

"What," Mori starts, already irritated, "Are you doing here." Fukuchi chuckles, and his words all come out slurred. "Jus' a tiny visit." "Are you drunk?" Mori scoffs, but can't exactly deter someone of his build from coming in. He watches him clutch a table to stay standing. "Only a lil." Mori crosses his arms. "So you came here." "You couldn't kill me if ya tried." Fukuchi shrugs sloppily. "I would like to." Mori responds, voice curt. Fukuchi just laughs, and proceeds to turn and throw up on Mori's floor.

"i can't believe you!" + god's worst yuricule

It's somewhere inbetween all the familiar caresses and Morella's unchanging grins that are just a little too sharp that the words bubble up out of Algernon's throat. "I can't believe you!" Morella blinks, staring as if she's been hit across the face. But oh, Algernon would never strike her. Could never lift their hand to even try. And staring at her now, like this, it seems words are enough anyway. "I thought you were dead, Morella!" They continue, hugging themself. "Helen and I made you a grave!" Morella's gaze hurts as much as a blade. Algernon, who is too used to pain, does not stop. "We said eulogies! And-" They choke on something, maybe it's a sob, maybe it's not. "Can't you understand how this hurts? For you to act like nothing has changed, when I look at you and it feels like everything is different?" Morella looks like she's choking on something too. "Algy-" "Please. I don't want you to leave again, but... you returning..." They shake their head. "It doesn't erase any grief."

"i don't know what i am" + teruko & tachihara

Joining the Hunting Dogs is not something you can ever go back on. Once you're a hound, once they sharpen your fangs and your claws and clip you, it is not to be changed. So why did Tachihara hope it could be? Teruko's terrified to look for him, but now she's here, and some documents were signed and she's about to have her last surgery, and she doesn't know what that means. If they're lying or not. If she will be leaving that horrid white room still breathing. "I don't know what I am." She whispers, curling up as much as she can, going as small as she can manage without needing to be coddled. She knows Tachihara couldn't tell her, really. But- He could have made her feel less alone, at least. She might be leaderless, now, but she could have had a pack. That'd be better then this.

"where did you go?" teruko & fukuchi

The thing is that, reasonably, Teruko should know better then to think Fukuchi is coming back. He's not. Everyone else can accept that. But there is some twisted, terrible hope in her chest that rests like a disease, a mold killing her from inside, that makes Teruko want to believe. It's killing her. She goes to an empty office, and all she can think is where did you go and not oh, this is mine now. It is. She doesn't want it. She doesn't want it she wants her captain back and she wants to be held and she can't possibly wrap her head around why he ever picked her as the vice captain. She's not cut out for this. (And she wonders if it would hurt any less if she were.)

[graphx]

sorry if this is random but I've been geeking out about sculpting as a hobby lately so obviously the hyperfixation set in

this idea just came into my head and wouldn't leave of all the paladins describing allura to someone with such detail that they could have made this

like Keith saying she has callouses on her hands from training

or hunk and lance being like "you have to get the fluff of her hair just right because it was a monster to help her put in a bun"

or Pidge suggesting that her earrings on the statue be made out of the same material cuz she would have loved shiny things

coran helping get the face JUST right because he knows how every inch of her face has changed and grown from when she was a child

shiro getting a new (more practical arm) after giving back the stone she used in her crown so it could be reused on her statue

based on the scale of this statue it likely took YEARS to complete. Hell it takes years to complete a normal life sized statue and the TIME and EFFORT and PATIENCE it must have took is still just incredible to me (despite the current technology they probably have it still probably took a hell of a lot of work)

NOW I HAVE TO GO WRITE A REMEBERING ALLURA ONESHOT FIC-

[ruenii]

Okay but “Fixer Upper” from Frozen can actually make a banger klance animatic??

Like the team is trying to set both Keith and Lance up while also simultaneously clowning them because you think that with all the goo goo eyes made to each other they still arent dating yet.

IF ONLY I HAD MORE FREE TIME I WOULD DO IT MYSELF DAMMIT !!!!!

[incorrect-kidge-quotes]

Went through my notes and found an old drabble titled

"Pidge (sort of) regrets going to the girls for advice [about Keith]" (as if that needed to be specified😂😂)

Further notes to myself indicate it was inspired by a reddit post seemingly built around the idea of "Tricks that guys don't realize girls do". Anyways, I do hope you all enjoy this little bit if nonsense!

-------------------------------

"You really want to know how to drive a man insane while at the same time giving him more reasons to keep seeing you?" Ezor asked with a sly tone.

Pidge cocked her head to the side out of curiosity "What's that?"

Ezor walked over to Pidge's dresser, she began throwing out boxers and loose fitting underwear, as well as chest bindings all over the floor of Pidge's bedroom. The younger girl got flustered and quickly started picking everything up while the rest of the girls laugh. "Well, first we need to go shopping for you. Why don't you have anything to show off your curves, like a thong or something?"

Pidge gestures to her whole body before crossing her arms in a pout. "What curves? It's not like I have any to show off..." Pidge muttered.

"That's not true at all, Pidge." Allura affirmed her friend.

"Yeah, if you weren't too busy putting yourself down and wearing nothing but baggy clothes all the time, you'd see the curves you've really grown into. I know Keith has." Ezor winked at Pidge.

"I have no idea what you're talking about..." Pidge stuttered out, her face slowly turning pink.

"Of course you don't," Ezor rolled her eyes playfully "but mistress of seduction and flirtation that I am, I see all, and anytime you enter the room I see him eyeing you up and down, even more so than you do him, and I can tell he's using every ounce of self-control in that well-built body of his that you love to stare at, and not let his Galra blood flair up and take you to his room asap. Maybe a broom closet since y'all are both so desperate for each other. "

At this point, Zethrid, Romelle, Nadia and even Acxa couldn't help but burst into laughter. Allura, to her credit, was at least trying to stifle her own laughter.

"Sh-shut up!" Pidge stuttered out, her blush getting more red by the second. "Are you going to tell me why you were ransacking my underwear in the first place?'

"Eh, sure, why not? I had my fun teasing you," Ezor said as she sat back down on the bed. "Next time it rains, and I mean a real downpour, you're going to go over to Keith's and get absolutely drenched in the process. He is going to offer his clothes (because as socially inept as he his, he's still somewhat of a gentleman) and you're going to wear said clothes, and when you go home you'll conveniently leave your underwear behind while still wearing the clothes he offered you. He'll find said underwear, and will of course want to return them to you and retrieve his clothea in the process, but if they're something you wouldn't normally wear, like say, a sexy red and black lace thong and bra (obviously because those are his colors and you want to get inside his head as much as possible), he won't be able to resist picturing you in said underwear the entire time."

"He'll give them to you, just so he can take them right back off you." Ezor smirked.

"So... who's car are we taking to the mall, and when's the next storm?"

[bosspigeon]

i'll be your lamb's blood on the wall

"I'd let you kill me," Moss mumbles, staring up at Astarion, dazed and drowsy with the light of the stars above them reflecting in the blackness of his eyes. He says such odd things, in the throes of passion, but Astarion's certainly heard stranger.

The vampire scoffs, brushing his thumb over the bite marks in the tiefling's throat, still sluggishly oozing a dark red against soft green. He brings his thumb to his lips, lapping away the smear teasingly. "Darling, I'm insulted. I would hope you'd put up at least a bit of a fight."

And Astarion knows he wouldn't stand a ghost of a chance in an honest fight against this behemoth of a man, but naked in the grass, with him languorously spent and content beneath him, the bravado is easy enough to conjure up. He's got the odd druid wrapped around his little finger, after all. He's secured his safety for the time being, and gotten a rather large and intimidating meat shield besides.

"No," Moss says, soft and ponderous. His hand curls over Astarion's shoulder, warm and heavy and big enough it feels like it could crush him so easily, but the touch is so careful it makes his stomach feel strangely quivery. "No..." He repeats, and the starlight reflects just so in his eyes that Astarion can actually catch a glimpse of the faintest difference in color between pupil and iris and sclera, focused on him so intently, so guilelessly. The hand travels down his arm, whisper-soft and featherlight, until it curls around Astarion's and brings it to his throat. "However you like. To die by your hand, to taste your name on my final breath... I know you'd make it beautiful."

His fingers, big and calloused and tipped with thick black claws that could gut Astarion like a fish, thread between digits so slim and delicate in comparison it's almost comical.

But Astarion isn't laughing.

His stomach drops, his sluggish heart–its beats made stronger by the blood he's consumed–thuds, and the world around him is harshly pulled from a calm and distant dreaminess to a sharp and startling clarity that nearly blinds him, as if he's suddenly been dragged into the daylight.

Oh no.

[adobedragon]

“Pointy chin?” Lance pulled Pidge close, puffing a tickling burst of air into her ear. “Who you callin’ ‘Pointy chin?’”

“Careful. You could put an eye out with that pointy chin,” she said between giggles. She prided herself in being the sort of woman who never giggled, but he always reduced her to this.

“So says the person who has to look up to look down.” His fingers were searching for a ticklish spot on her ribs.

“Short jokes?” She rolled her eyes. “That’s the best you can do, Spaghetti Legs? Short jokes?”

“Short people got no reason…” he sang.

“That song isn’t actually about short people but instead referring to—”

“Short people,” he sang. “They got grubby little fingers.” He squeezed her hand. “And dirty little minds.”

She giggled again. Dammit! “You love my dirty mind.”

“I do.”

Then he kissed her neck and she lost the clever retort poised on her tongue.

[katyawriteswhump]

Pidge-nado! (steddiemas, steddie holiday drabble, whumpcember)

For @steddiemas ‘cosy days’ prompts, eggnog, baking, sweater, pine, @steddieholidaydrabbles day 19 prompt, “dessert” and, @whumpcember day 19 prompt, panic attack.

WC: 965. Rating: T CW: none.  Tags: fluff, established steddie, angst and hurt/comfort, panic attacks. Summary: Steve would do anything for Eddie, face down any danger. But even he has his limits…

🐦🐦🐦🐦

Spring Break, 1986

Steve had just been dragged into the Upside Down through the water-gate and had barely gotten free from Vecna’s ghoulish horror-flick vines.

When the demo-bats came flapping out of that blood-red sky, he panicked slightly, who wouldn’t? He still grabbed that goddamn oar, chose fight not flight. While batting the shrieking beasties away—and before they started stabbing and throttling him to near-death—a crazy whisper in his head actually grounded him:

At least they’re not fucking pigeons.

…

December, 1987

“Look on the…” cough. “...sunny side.” Eddie paused, in order to finish choking on the smoke and stench of burning cookies and wrap his arms around Steve. He plonked his chin on Steve’s shoulder. “They’re so rock-hard, I reckon you’ve invented a whole new substance. Call Henderson—he’ll wanna name it.”

“Haha.”

Steve was pissed. He loved this trailer to death because he shared it with Eddie. But everything was salvaged, broken or breaking—like most of post-Vecna-earthquake Hawkins—and the oven thermostat was royally screwed.

He scowled, turning in the circle of Eddie’s arms. “I promised the kids cookies! I’m so mad with myself. I should’ve kept a better…” cough… “watch”... cough, cough.

The cookie-fumes having reached crisis point, Eddie opened a window, letting in a blast of icy air.

“Chill, honey,” said Eddie, once they’d finished coughing. “Y’know who’s gonna dig your culinary efforts?”

Eddie trudged outside and ground a cookie into the snow beneath his boot-heel. A pigeon flapped down from the pine-tree overshadowing the trailer.

“Hey, Slash,” said Eddie.

Steve’s nerves went apeshit, which was completely dumb.

He’d faced down Vecna.

This was a fucking pigeon.

Eddie knew Steve ‘wasn’t a fan.’ He’d never admit more. Especially given the adoring grin Eddie gave Slash.

Deal with it, Harrington.

Soon, Slash’s entire mob of pigeon gangsters pecked at Eddie’s feet. Steve retreated into the trailer, which was now freezing and stinky. When Eddie returned, they located the thickest sweaters that Claudia Henderson’s knitting needles had conjured for them and climbed into bed.

This was cosy heaven. Usually. Steve’s skin crawled.

“Hope you’ve washed those hands,” he mumbled. He pictured Slash pecking from the palms that Eddie shoved up Steve’s sweater to rub would-be-sensual circles on his chest.

“’Course, Babe.”

Steve tried to relax, knowing where Eddie would descend to next with those ice-queen hands. They’d feel waaay better than they’d any right to when they got there.

Still no good. Steve broke their smoochy kiss.

“You okay?” asked Eddie.

“Yes… no… sort of?”

The patter of scratchy claws on the trailer roof. The creepy coo-cooooo… The fucking pigeons were waaaay louder than usual. Or maybe Steve was edgier than usual, after his baking fail. It seemed mean to ask Eddie to scare off his ‘friends,’ so…

“Gimme a mo.’” He wriggled out of bed and marched from the bedroom toward the door.

You can do this, Harrington. Just… clap your hands or something.

He threw open the trailer door. Then threw up his arms as a dozen sky-rats swarmed in his face. Their brushing wings might as well have been slashing razors, because he was back where this all began, hunkered in a frozen ball, unable to drag the ice-air into his lungs.

Shiiiit! You’re not gonna die, Harrington, you’re gonna be fine!

Nope. His body wasn’t listening to his rational mind. All it knew was… IT’S FUCKING PIGEONS! YOU’RE GONNA BE TOAST!!

Later, after Eddie shooed the last of the winged-beasts from the trailer, he sat beside Steve on the bed, curling an arm around him. He shoved a mug of his legendary eggnog-vodka into Steve’s trembling hands.

“Bat flashbacks?” asked Eddie, rubbing Steve’s back.

Steve groaned; he was cold, shivering and horribly sticky and sweaty now. “Not really. I mean, you totally dealt just now, and the demo-bats practically killed you!” He smothered his face in Eddie’s hair, breathing deep, then, “I was at summer camp. We were feeding the stupid birds, then they all came at me. Like, totally picking on me, in a pigeon-tornado... pidge-nado? Whatever. I freaked out. Worse, I cried. Became the biggest joke in camp, then one of the councillors told my dad, and he never let it go. Like, it made me less of a man already. At eleven-years-old.”

“Um, Steve—firstly, it’s a natural reaction to being unexpectedly attacked, kid or otherwise. Secondly, recent track record suggests that you’re not topping anybody’s list of ‘cowardly custards.’ Thirdly… I’m sorry. I will henceforth discourage Slash and his band of unruly sky-demons.”

“Thanks. Feel bad, tho’.” Steve downed his eggnog, which burned his throat like faintly milky paint-stripper. “Slash makes you happy, and…” I’d put up with anything for you, Eddie Munson, and I know you’d do anything for me. True, but too sappy to say. Instead, he snickered. “I want to try and get used to them. Hey, and at least somebody likes my baking.”

A few days later, Steve had totally nailed the pastry on a key-lime pie. Dessert for dinner with Wayne tonight was halfway to perfect. He was whisking away at the cream filler, when a beak tapped on the window.

He rolled his shoulders back, stared down Slash’s devil-red eyes. Face your fears, Harrington. Face them for Eddie.

He opened the window a crack, cringing as Slash pecked the pastry-crumb from his finger. “You’re okay, I guess,” he mumbled.

The gray cloud swept from the pine, in a hurricane of beating wings.

He slammed the window, sending pigeons scattering to the four winds, and flipped the bird. Baby-steps, Harrington. He was only shaking a bit.

He returned to cosy dreams about exactly what parts of Eddie he was gonna lick spare key-lime topping off later. And whether—if he picked up extra shifts at Family Video—they might be able to afford a cat.

🐦🐦🐦🐦

zero pressure tag: @wheneverfeasible 💚 My stranger things fic on AO3

For the record, I am def. more of a bird-lover than a hater, including pigeons, despite a spotty record and a childhood experience possibly drawn on here… ahem. And I know now it is considered definitely not healthy for birdies to feed them burnt cookies or any bready stuff, though I guess a lot of us did it in the past 😱

[deareverlasting]

Fake Crush Drabbles 3

(Keith x Lance)

“You like someone, don’t you?” Lance inquired, a devious grin painting his face, his cheek slightly squished as he leaned on his hand.

Keith kind of wanted to punch him.

If only to get that smug look off his face.

“Uhh, what?” Keith leaned on his crossed arms, avoiding Lance’s eyes, the desk cold beneath him. They were in the library, waiting on Allura, Pidge, and Hunk. They were supposed to be studying for their physics exam, but, well. “No, of course not. Why–”

Keith clamped his mouth shut as Lance went from a safe, comfortable distance away, to nearly touching noses with Keith. “You can’t lie to me, greñas!” Lance said cheekily, mirth in his eyes. “It’s written all over your face.”

Keith gulped, sweat prickled down his spine. His body was uncomfortably warm as he ignored how closed Lance was and how often he seemed to be with it nowadays. 

“Uhh,” Keith looked around desperately for anything that could distract him from the proximity, anything he could say to get Lance’s eyes off of him. (He ignored the blatant lie that tasted bitter on his tongue.)

And diabolically, like the universe was out to get him, his eyes landed on the guffawing James Griffin, his stupidly put-together, gelled hair, and even more pompous friends. 

“James… Griffin?” Keith managed to say, sweating profusely as he waited for Lance’s reaction in his blank eyes.

Lance didn’t say anything for a moment, and Keith was almost tempted to wave his arms in his face to see if his soul hadn’t floated away in between James and Griffin.

That was, until, Lance suddenly shot up from his chair. The shitty piece of wood and leather screeched on the plank floor, falling over with a loud thud that was nearly just as loud as Lance's.

“WHAT?!”

Keith didn’t know whether to laugh or cry when Lance proceeded to glare at the back of James Griffin’s head for the rest of the lesson when their study hall period was over.

“So that’s what I told him.” Keith sighed, screwing his eyes shut and rubbing them raw as he recounted the morning to Allura and Pidge at his house that day. 

Allura was looking at him with the most deadpan expression she could muster. Her white-blue locs hung over her shoulder and a pink bandana tied around the top of her head. She was positioned very similarly to how Keith was when Lance had decided to screw him over with crush-talk.

Pidge was typing away on her computer, munching on the rice Shiro had made. Her green hoodie was stained with ketchup from the lunch they had at school: fries and a dry, ever-so-dry, spicy chicken sandwich.

Keith resisted the urge to throw his bookbag at them as they exchanged glances.

Allura looked like she was failing to hide a grin as she giggled behind her hand. “You could’ve at least said Ryan.”

Pidge burst into cackles, pointing at Keith with zero shame.

Keith’s face burned with embarrassment, and hey, maybe the bookbag would only hurt a little bit.

“Hey!”

[insidemjshead]

Klance Drabbles

[ Just keith admiring lance and whatnot ]

—————————————————

Keith leaned against the doorway, arms crossed as he watched the scene unfold. Across the room, Lance was mid-rant, his hands slicing through the air for emphasis. Pidge was perched on the edge of the couch, one eyebrow raised in dubious amusement, while Hunk leaned back in his chair, snacking on a bag of alien trail mix.

“—and that’s when I told him, ‘Listen, if this machine can’t make my food crispy, then it’s not advanced—it’s defective!’” Lance declared, his voice pitched in dramatic indignation. “The guy didn’t know what to say! Like, seriously, what’s the point of space-age technology if it can’t handle a simple snack upgrade?”

Pidge tapped a finger against her cheek. “Right, because prioritizing snack crispness is exactly what advanced civilizations are built on.”

“I’m just saying!” Lance huffed, pointing a finger at her. “If you’re gonna claim your tech is top-notch, don’t give me soggy fries. That’s false advertising!”

Hunk chuckled, shaking his head as he tossed another handful of trail mix into his mouth. “You’ve got some really strong opinions about food, man. Not that I’m surprised.”

Keith couldn’t help the small laugh that slipped out, and suddenly three pairs of eyes were on him.

“Keith?” Lance asked, eyebrows raised. “Were you standing there the whole time? Don’t tell me you were captivated by my storytelling.”

Keith tensed under their gaze but tried to play it cool, shrugging. “I wasn’t… captivated. Just passing by.”

“Passing by?” Lance echoed, stepping closer with a grin that was nothing short of smug. “Admit it, you couldn’t resist listening to my brilliance.”

Keith rolled his eyes, though his ears burned. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously entertaining,” Lance shot back, still grinning as he closed the distance between them. “Go on, Keith. Say it. Say I’m the most interesting person in this castle.”

Keith snorted, shaking his head. “Not a chance.”

Pidge waved a hand, her tone dry. “Lance, maybe save your endless need for validation for someone who isn’t Keith. You’re barking up the wrong emotionally-repressed tree.”

“I’m not barking!” Lance said, throwing his arms up. “This is confidence! Right, Hunk?”

Hunk shrugged, nonchalantly popping another snack into his mouth. “I mean, you do have a way of making an impression. Let’s leave it at that.”

“See?” Lance said, spinning back to Keith. “Even Hunk agrees.”

Keith just shook his head, his lips twitching into a faint smirk. As Lance went back to defending his case with Pidge and Hunk, Keith slipped away from the doorway.

But not before stealing one last glance at Lance—at the way his eyes lit up when he talked, the way his laugh filled the room, the way he managed to hold everyone’s attention without even trying.

There really was something about him. Something Keith couldn’t ignore, no matter how hard he tried.

[aimfor-theheart]

if you’re still doing the prompt game would you pls write about whimsy/weird reader x vi?🥹

yess i can do that!! thank you for submitting!

whimsical/weird reader + vi

In your art studio, your mind is elsewhere; not on this earth.

So when Vi finally calls your name over the music and your humming and painting, you startle so hard that you nearly tip over a bottle of open paint.

You whirl around and—your hair is a mess, paint dashed across your skin in a kaleidoscope of colors, and you're wide eyed. Chest heaving a little.

“Am I interrupting?” Vi asks, unable to keep the affection out of her voice.

“Oh! No! Well, yes—but it’s fine,” you sigh, “I probably needed a break anyways.”

“How long have you been at it?” She asks, stepping nearer so she can get a better eyeful of your canvas.

You hum, moving to set your palette and brush down on an overfilled counter top. “I think I started when it was dark out.”

Vi cocks her head, “It’s the afternoon—did you get up really early?”

Your glasses slip down the bridge of your nose in a terribly adorable way, “Hm, no. I never went to bed.”

“You’ve been up all night?!”

“I guess—but the moon was so pretty, I couldn’t fathom sleeping.” You respond wistfully, adjusting your glasses, now stained at the bridge with blue because of your fingertips.

You finally yawn and stretch a little, the movement distinctly feline to Vi’s eyes. Your lack of sleep must be catching up with you. Vi can’t help but find it all terribly endearing—

“Come on, pidge,” She starts, the old nickname rolling off her tongue—Vander used to call you pidge, or pigeon, when you were young. Something about being like a little bird on the line, fluttering about, singing and squawking. “Why don’t we get you some food? Maybe a nap.”

Vi corrals you into her arms and you don’t fight her. In fact, you drop your head onto her collarbones, “I guess. You’ll nap with me?”

Vi swipes at your cheek, cleaning away some red paint. She can’t help but smile fondly as she leads you out of your art studio, “I’ll nap with you, sweetheart. Will you sleep with me tonight, though? Can’t have you up all night again—“

“Hm, maybe. Depends how pretty the sky is.”

Vi can’t help but laugh even as she thinks, it can’t nearly be as pretty as you.

Send me a trope/genre + a character and I’ll write a drabble!

[just-a-dinosaur-i-guess]

a santa hat + atsulucy

old holiday movies + lemon futon

last-minute gift shopping + siglai (platonic or romantic or some secret third thing; your choice)

snow angels + nikonathan

a santa hat + atsulucy

Atsushi wrinkled his nose up as Lucy set the hat on him. It was a whole new texture of itchy that he frankly kind of hated, but Lucy just giggled and booped him. "There you go, tigerkitty. All festive." Atsushi blinked. "What kind of festivities are some weird, scratchy hat even for?" Lucy grinned, clasping her hands together. "I'll call Lou, and we'll explain."

old holiday movies + lemon futon

It wasn't that Kajii chose everything in the relationship, really. But, it was true that he tended to take initative most of the time. From dates out to dates in, Kajii seemed to have an endless wealth of ideas. But it was a cold winter evening, even more so then they'd expected, and so Katai chose something for once. "Since it's freezing out," Katai hummed, eyeing Kajii in a sweater with yellows so bright it was pratically offensive, "I have a better plan." Kajii grinned with warmth and excitement, "Oh?" The TV screen flared to life, Katai grabbing Kajii by the hand and flopping into their pillow nest, snuggling against him like he was the only warmth in the house. "Hush and watch the movie."

last minute shopping & snow angels + siglaithan (i have been thinking abt them so have a combo meal)

The market was crowded a surprising amount for a day where there were at least five inches of snow in any given direction that you looked. Unfortunately, Sigma and Nathaniel were part of said crowd, both shivering their way around. They'd lost track of Nikolai, but weren't really concerned. It'd turn up later anyway, there was no point in looking. Another terrible point of this trip was that it was the day before Christmas for... at least one of them. Sigma didn't really get it and Nikolai saw no point to it, but Nathaniel was very firm about doing at least a little to celebrate it. And so, at home, they had a miserable little bonsai they'd dressed up with three ornaments, one of which was too heavy for it, and... They might have left the TV (left on the fake fireplace video) on, so that was something to immediately deal with when they returned. Their gifts were rather varied in selection, Sigma getting things that would be religated to simply items of nostagia years later, while Nathaniel picked out more functional things such as coats and the like. When they walked out of the marketplace, Sigma immediately tripped across something. "Wh-" Nathaniel looked around, then sighed deeply, glaring at Nikolai as it laid down in the snow, hapzardly making a snow angel. "Really?" Nikolai smirked in return. It didn't even shiver, as if unbothered by the cold. "Yep!"

[graphx]

I’ll do another poll with more options if this goes well! Let me know ur suggestions in the tags :D

[ruenii]

okay but i love post s8 lance where hes just this sad but still sweet man, like yeah he lost the love of his life and lives on earth because space took a toll on him and his self esteem and his self worth as a person and is now done with it even though it was his dream to explore space and is now growing flowers that his ex-girlfriend loved and is living in grief but hes still there. Kind of.

He’s just this sweet but pitiful old man and he’s closed off from love for a while even though he loves Keith like breathing. He just doesn’t want to get hurt.

SO HE TAKES A ROAD TRIP BY HIMSELF WITHOUT TELLING ANYONE TO FIGURE SHIT OUT FOR HIMSELF!!

LIKE LITERAL GHOSTING!! HE HASNT BEEN SPOTTED FOR A FEW MONTHS!! PEOPLE ARE CONCERNED!! WHERE THE FUCK IS HE!!

[keithisgay-ao3]

wait, I have feelings for him drabble

The paladins are on a joint mission with the MFEs, a paladin in each MFE's ship: James & Lance, Ryan & Keith, Nadia & Hunk, Ina & Pidge. What was supposed to be a quick mission to retrieve Intel from and disable a mostly sentry-run base became a fire fight. It wasn't until the teams met in the center of the base that they realized that it was, in fact, not sentry-run, and was fully manned. Thus begins a race through the labyrinth of halls back to the MFEs. Lance and James reach their ships first, taking off and providing cover while the others run to their lions. As soon as Rizavi takes off, a fleet of Galran fighters is deployed, sending the two jets running. They do their best to keep the fighter away from those on the ground, still defending themselves from the sentries.

Upon takeoff, Ina shoots a fighter, sending it crashing to the ground. It explodes, fire quickly spreading. "Guys, it's approaching the fuel tanks, we gotta get out of here!" Hunk exclaims. No sooner does he finish his sentence does Ryan takeoff, narrowly avoiding the flames. As the four MFEs shoot off, the base explodes, shooting them in different directions.

Once they stabilize, and alarms stop going off, James and Lance looks around. They can no longer see the other MFEs, but all three icons on James's displays are lit, suggesting they're alright. "McClain, you good?" James asks, glancing back. Lance nods, wincing a bit. "Yeah. Little dizzy, but good. What about the others?"

"MFEs, status report: Griffin and McClain: enroute to Atlas." James starts. "McClain, with Griffin." Lances adds.

"Leifsttodir, Holt?" "Enroute to Garrison, Pidge is with me."

"Rizavi, Garret?" "We're good, heading to Atlas." "

"Kinkade, Kogane?"

Silence.

"Kinkade, Kogane, status?"

"....'

"Ryan, Keith?"

"..."

"Ryan?" James repeats, desperation creeping into his voice. "Ryan, are you there?"

".... I'm here, babe."

Lance saw James's shoulders sag with relief as panic crept up his throat. "What about Keith?"

"I'm here. Little burnt, but here. Sorry for the radio silence, Kinkade's helmet broke. We're fine though, enroute to Atlas."

Lance let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding upon hearing his Black Paladin's voice. they make the rest of the trip in silence. The second they landed, James was running to Ryan, nearly tackling him. The taller pilot staggered backwards, arms wrapped tightly around his boyfriend. "Never do that again." James whispers, barely audible. "I won't babe." He replies, before kissing James tenderly.

Lance approached Keith with open arms, which he fell into, hugging him tightly. "You had me worried for a second." Keith chuckled into his ear. "Come on Lance, you know it takes more than that to get rid of me." They separated as the other paladins approached, greeting their leader.

"Keith, Kinkade, head to the medbay. We don't need those burns getting infected. The rest of you, clean up and get some rest." Iverson called.

Keith stepped away from his team as Ryan did the same, with a parting kiss to James.

Lance approached said pilot, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Hey, are you okay?wiping at his eyes. "Yeah, I'm fine, thanks."

Lance raised an eyebrow. "Really? I've never seen you break bearing before, but it sounded like you were about to cry." James nodded, straightening his spine. "Yeah, I just-" He sighed. "I love Ryan so much. I know our job is dangerous, and any of us could die at any second, but I've never come that close to losing him before. There's never been a time where I didn't know we both made it out alive. But today, for a few absolutely terrifying moments, I thought he was dead. And I-" James took a shuddering breath, eyes shimmering. "-I couldn't breathe. Or move. Or think about anything but him. And how awful life would be without him. You know?"

Lance watched their departing teammates, a realization dawning on him. He did know. He'd felt something similar when Keith hadn't responded. And while he'd been away with the Blades. When he'd found out what happened on Naxela. That same all encompassing, paralyzing fear.

"Oh."

[agere-wolf-den]

Headcanons-

🐾Caregivers! Sirius Black and Remus Lupin 👻Caregiver! Klaus Hargreeves (and Ghost! Ben) 🦁Caregivers! Voltron (with Sibby! Pidge) Pt.2 Keith and Shiro Boogaloo 🚒Caregivers! Sigma-17 ✍️Stanford Pines caregiver Cove Holden! 📓♠️Caregiver Duo Stanley & Stanford Pines [Teen/preteen regressor

😈Caregiver Crowley [Supernatural] 🪽Caregiver Castiel [Supernatural] Caregivers Team Free Will Big brother Jack! Caregiver Rowena & Bunny Regressor

Imagines/Oneshots-

🐾CG Sirius and Remus, Big Sibling Harry Voltron's Cubs <3 Destiel & Little reader (Hurt/Comfort) Half-Finished WIP Castiel/Gaberiel Hurt/Comfort Micah Yujin Drabble

OTHER-

🐺Obe's 31 days of Agere/Petre🐺 _Classification AU post_

Star Divider / Masterlist