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Basically just me showing off my custom work skin, which makes your paragraphs, images, and text-messaging look fancier without much work.
You can find it at my GitHub page: https://github.com/legowerewolf/AO3-themes
klancemas day thirty-one: midnight kiss
- Part 26 of klancemas 2018
And somewhere in between all that, Keith’s back had thumped against the wall and he’d scowled at Lance the way he always does, and Lance—for some unknown, godforsaken reason—kissed him.
Or kisses him, rather. As in, Lance is currently kissing Keith. Until whatever being it was that possessed him to do such a thing disappears and Lance’s brain finally catches up to what he’s doing.
He abruptly pulls away from Keith with a strangled gasp, a feeling of pure horror pulsing through his entire body from head to toe. And Keith—poor, confused, very flustered Keith—is staring back at him, back still pressed flat against the wall, wide-eyed and cheeks flushed, lips parted slightly.
Lance has never been a particularly big fan of elevators, but he has never truly feared them more than he does in this very moment.
hostage by thespacenico for stellalights, caelestee
Fandoms: Voltron: Legendary Defender
25 Apr 2019
“You’re such an ass.”
Lance stares at him, dumbfounded. “Huh?”
“You’re not allowed to say that unless I can say it back,” Keith snaps.
“What—” Lance blinks. Then he realizes just what Keith is talking about and he falters, letting out a long, slow breath. “Oh,” he says softly.
“Yeah,” Keith responds sharply, but his voice wavers and he huffs. “Oh.”
“Trust your instincts,” Keith interrupts, twisting the blade in his hand restlessly. “They’re always right.”
Lance scoffs. “Are they?”
“Yes,” Keith insists, exasperated. “How do you think we got this far?”
“I’m cutting the black one,” Keith announces, leaning forward to do exactly that.
“Wait!” Lance’s hand shoots back out to clutch at Keith’s arm, his fingers digging almost painfully against his armor. “Are you sure?”
Keith turns his head just enough to lock eyes with Lance, tightening his grip on the hilt of his blade. “I’m sure if you’re sure.”
“Why are you always looking at me like that?”
Keith tilts his head to the side. “Like what?”
“I don’t know.” Lance huffs a small, nervous laugh, fixing his eyes on a wave that’s breaking further out at sea. “Like I’m important, or something.”
Keith seems to still, then, one arm slipping away from around Lance’s neck so his hand can rest on his shoulder. “You don’t think you are?”
Lance chuckles, but it’s a bit too flat to be convincing. “Well,” he starts, forcing himself to look back at Keith. “I’m no prince, that’s for sure.”
Keith meets his gaze for a moment longer, eyes searching as he chews at his lip. Then they fall, and he turns his head away slightly, dark hair hiding his face.
“You are to me,” he says quietly.