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[romelle]

take a picture, it'll last longer adashi | 1.5k words | meet cute

about an hour ago i suddenly sat up (prompted by nothing) and didn’t stop writing until i finished this. so here you go! if you can't or prefer not to read from the photos, you can also view this fic here on google docs 🥰

🌟🌧🌟🌧🌟🌧🌟🌧🌟🌧🌟🌧🌟🌧🌟🌧🌟🌧🌟🌧🌟🌧🌟🌧🌟🌧🌟

[romelle]

Embracing them from behind for the prompt ask <33 Maybe with klance or nymallura?

i'm pleading guilty (you make me want to steal your heart)

nymallura | 2k | the title lol | send me a prompt 🌟🌷

i got another request for klance with this prompt, so i went with nymallura this time !! 💝 it might have gotten away from me a little, but that’s just because it was very very fun to write❣️ it might even be my favourite vld fic i’ve written so far 😊💌🌈 also i finally got to write a fancy party fic hehe

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

When Allura was little, she wasn’t very fond of parties.

She liked the clothes, whenever she got to be the one to choose them. She liked how colourful and sparkly everything was. Sometimes uncle Coran would steal her away for a dance, and that was fun. But as the princess, Allura was a part of the spectacle just as much as the gowns and the sparkles. 

As the princess, she was expected to dance and socialise, but only with certain people. She was supposed to have fun, but only so much that the others felt comfortable actually having a good time. Parties were a place of romance and merriment for some, but of diplomacy and performance for others.

More often than not, they were just exhausting.

But it’s been a long time since she last went to a party, and she can’t deny that the thought excites her. That evening, Allura feels as giddy as a little girl while picking out her gown. Lilac layers of light, shimmering fabric twirl around her as she spins in front of the mirror. She catches her own gaze in the reflection, and grins. 

Early into the party, that grin slips from her lips.

At least, the genuine one does. When you’re both the princess of Altea and the leader of Voltron, smiling is as obligatory as revelling is prohibited. 

The man she’s talking to has bone-white skin, large black eyes, and thin powder blue wings. There are exactly one hundred seventy-four glittering white marks on each of them. Allura knows this not because she paid attention to Coran’s lecture, but because she has been counting them ever since their conversation started. Count Farkyn is a greatly important ally, and someone whose help the coalition would be beyond grateful to have.

He’s also, unfortunately, dreadfully boring.

Allura is just about to struggle her way through another pleasant smile when she feels a hand settle around her waist, someone new coming to stand by her side.

“Hello princess,” Nyma says into her ear. 

Her other hand settles on Allura’s elbow, as though she knows that without that precaution, that same elbow would have made a connection with her jaw. Instantly, Allura relaxes. 

Then, just as instantly, she scolds herself for doing so. 

There is something about Nyma that makes Allura doubt she’s any less dangerous as a friend than she is as a foe. The others say she’s being overcautious, and even Hunk recently decided that she no longer poses a threat. But Allura knows what she feels.

Although they are now on significantly better terms, she can’t deny that she still occasionally feels strange around Nyma. Sometimes a word from her is enough to make Allura’s heartbeat quicken, or to leave her struggling to find words of her own. Truth be told, they don’t even get to see each other all that often- but whenever Allura knows that they might be at the same place, she gets overwhelmed by anticipation. 

Like she said. Strange.

When she asked Shiro about it, he suggested that she might just have a crush, which was ridiculous. When she spoke to Lance, he revealed that he feels the same way about his rival Keith, so it’s probably nothing to worry about. That only made Allura worry even more, because she knows what the mice say about those two. 

But currently, none of that matters. She’d let herself be whisked away by just about anyone, if only to get away from count Farkyn and his pompous speeches. 

“Nyma,” She says. “What a pleasant surprise.”

She practised saying that in the mirror for at least five minutes. It doesn’t sound as surprised as she wanted it to. 

“I hate to be rude, but could I steal you away?” Nyma asks, not wasting any time. She’s a good actress, but Allura knows the troublemaker sparkle of her eyes well enough to be certain she doesn’t hate to be rude at all. “There’s something urgent we have to discuss.”

Allura nods quickly. 

“Yes, of course.”

She meets the huge, unblinking eyes of her previous conversation partner. 

“It was... lovely to meet you, count Farkyn.”

“So lovely,” Nyma chimes in, not giving the count a chance to respond in kind. She uses her hold on Allura’s waist to twirl them away quickly, whispering “run” into Allura’s ear. 

Allura has to bite the inside of her cheek to stop herself from laughing.

They come to a stop at the edge of the dancefloor. There is a narrow space between two pillars, and Nyma casually leans against one after removing her hand from Allura’s waist. Allura clears her throat awkwardly, and leans against the other one. The space between them is still not large enough for comfort, but the lack of physical contact allows her heart rate to calm down at least a little.

“What did you want to discuss?” she asks.

Nyma tilts her head- smiling like she can’t believe the words leaving Allura’s mouth. As always, it’s like she’s in on some joke that Allura just doesn’t understand. But there’s also something so oddly soft about it, and that’s what flusters Allura the most.

“Just how pretty your dress is,” Nyma says, still smiling that fond, playful little smile.

Allura blushes. She tucks a strand of her hair behind her ear and looks towards the crowd. The face to face is just a bit too much, she decides.

“Stop that,” she commands.

Nyma only giggles again.

“I have nothing to discuss, silly. I’ve met Farkyn before, and decided to help out. Like the valuable ally that I am.”

Allura considers this.

“I suppose he is a bit...” she hesitates. 

“Boring?” Nyma fills in helpfully.

Allura considers, almost instinctively, denying it. But then she sees the way Nyma is smiling at her, and feels all that pressure she has felt for the past varga slip away. She sighs, letting her shoulders slump.

“Numbingly so.”

“Well, a party is no place for feeling numb,” Nyma declares grandly. Then, she reaches out with her hand, holding it out for Allura to take. “Should we try to fix that?”

Allura wants nothing more. Still, she bites her lip in hesitation, hand hoovering halfway to Nyma’s own.

“I really shouldn’t. I haven’t even talked to-”

“You’re a part of a team, princess,” Nyma reminds her. “And no offence, but I think your black paladin has dazzled the king far more than you could hope to.”

Allura follows Nyma’s gaze, and is stuck somewhere between bewilderment and amusement when she finds that Nyma is right. Shiro looks a little stiff, but he doesn’t seem at all unused to this sort of admiring attention. The king, however, is definitely dazzled. 

“Oh my,” Allura says. She can’t wait to tell Hunk about this during their next afternoon tea party.

“Right? He’s got it all covered,” Nyma gives a satisfied nod of her head. Then, she offers up her hand again. “Besides- I’m a greatly important ally too.”

Allura rolls her eyes, but amusement is written all over her face.

“A great nuisance is what you are.”

“That too,” Nyma agrees. “Feel free to dazzle me.”

She takes her hand. 

Allura can’t deny that the ballroom is beyond beautiful. The palace is made of a clear material akin to glass, but there are also magical, shimmering designs that twirl through it like living paint. The transparent roof gives a view of the night sky- shades of soft pinks, blues and purples embellished with stars. It reminds her of Nyma’s eyes, which is rather pathetic.

“Remember when first met?”

Allura raises an eyebrow. 

“Of course. You made such a memorable first impression. It’s not every day that someone flirts with one of the paladins and then ties them to a tree.”

Nyma laughs.

“Well,” she says. “Did I ever tell you that I originally planned to approach you? But then Lance gave me too good of an opener.”

Allura raises her eyebrows even higher.

“You wanted to trick me into giving you a ride?”

“That’s what she said,” Nyma sing-songs. That is without a doubt something that she picked up while hanging out with Lance. Allura’s arms are already around her neck, and she uses this opportunity to pinch her.

Nyma grimaces at the sting, but only slightly.

“That doesn’t even make sense,” Allura says, ignoring her blushing face. “And I suppose it’s good for you that Lance gave you an opener. It wouldn’t have worked on me.”

Nyma smirks.

“Oh? But didn’t I steal from you already?”

Allura can’t recall that. Before she can say as much, Nyma continues:

“Stole this dance, didn’t I?”

Allura very barely resists the urge to pinch her again.

“Doesn’t count,” she insists. “You asked, I said yes. That goes against the very basic definition of stealing.”

“Alright. How about we make a bet, then? I’ll manage to steal something from you by the end of the night.”

“That sounds more like a statement.”

“I bet that I’ll manage to steal something from you by the end of the night.”

Allura narrows her eyes. 

“And why would I say yes to that?”

A faster song begins to play, and the two of them liven up their steps accordingly. Nyma is an extraordinarily good dancer, and her hands fit nicely on Allura’s waist. She tries hard not to think about either of those facts.

“Because you’re very obviously bored out of your mind,” Nyma points out, which is not quite true anymore. She stopped being bored the second Nyma came up behind her. Even if they part ways now, she’d probably remain amused for the rest of the evening, knowing that Nyma might be looking her way.

But she doesn’t want to part ways just yet.

“And what would you steal?”

Nyma purses her lips, thinking about it. Or perhaps only pretending to think about it. 

“I haven’t decided yet,” she says, twirling Allura away and then back towards her. “Your breath maybe?”

Allura glares at her. Nyma is only joking, but that move really did leave her a little breathless. This whole interaction is leaving her breathless. Honestly, she might just faint if Nyma doesn’t give her a break.

As if she can hear her thoughts, Nyma suddenly dips her. Allura tightens her grip on her shoulders, giving a startled gasp.

“Or the floor under your feet?”

Allura frowns, but she knows that she can’t look very stern. Not with her head upside down, hair nearly touching the floor.

“You’re so funny.”

Nyma beams, as though the compliment was genuine.

“I know.”

Allura sets her lips into a straight line. She knows she can’t be imagining this. She might be about ten thousand years out of practice, but Nyma is clearly flirting with her. Even if she doesn’t feel the… whatever it is that Allura is feeling, she must at least be attracted to her. 

Well, alright, then. Two can play that game. 

“Fine,” she agrees, ignoring the slight look of surprise on Nyma’s face. “I’ll do it. But only if I can try to steal something from you too.”

The surprise grows even more apparent, before turning into delight.

“And what could the princess of Altea possibly steal from me?”

Allura grins. With all the swiftness she’d use in a battle, she gracefully pushes herself back into an upright position- simultaneously pulling Nyma closer towards her. Allura’s chest is now pressed tightly against Nyma’s back, her hands on each side of Nyma’s waist, and her chin just above Nyma’s shoulder.

“Your breath maybe?” she whispers, mocking Nyma’s words from before.

Then, before she can lose this sudden nerve, Allura lets one of her hands trail up from Nyma’s waist to her chin- turning it gently towards her. She leans further and further. The hand she has on Nyma’s waist proves that Allura alters her breathing just as much as she alters Allura’s. 

“Or a kiss.”

Their lips are only a breath away. The song ends. 

“Change of partners,” Allura whispers. 

Just as quickly as she had pulled Nyma towards her, she pushes her away- straight into the arms of count Farkyn. She grins as innocently as she can, but Nyma is still far too stunned to do anything but look at her with wide eyes.

Allura’s next dance partner turns out to be Lance, who accepts her invitation with a dramatically deep bow that she can’t help but giggle at. 

“How’s your evening?” he asks once they’ve settled into a rhythm. “Did that count dude bore you to death?”

From over her shoulder, Allura meets Nyma’s eyes. Count Farkyn has clearly thrown himself into another one of his speeches, and Nyma’s eyes communicate very clearly just how ungrateful she is to have the honour of listening. Still, when Allura smiles at her, she can’t help but smile back. The smile is as fond as ever.

Allura thinks she might finally be in on the joke.

“Not at all,” she says. “I’m having a tremendous time.”

[romelle]

up but not yet awake... of course both the mug and the pyjamas were a present from lance

[romelle]

stir it up together (and still make something sweet)

romellura | 2k | title from this song 🥰

today i found out that there are only three romellura coffee shop au fics in existance, and thereby decided to come back in order to right this wrong. it started out as a silly idea, but i think it now might be one my favourite vld fics i’ve written, so i really hope you enjoy as matcha (heh) as i did!

🌜🍃🦢🌟🍵☁️💫💌🌜🍃🦢🌟🍵☁️💫💌

The sun has only just risen, and the reminders of the first rain shower of the season still linger in the air. It’s the exact type of a tranquil morning that all of those early rising junkies always rush to tell everyone about, perpetually on standby with their green smoothie recipes and an odd desire to recruit.

Complete with dewdrops on the grass and the clouds blushing a pretty pink at the sun’s gentle attention, the picture this morning paints is simply made to be the background photo of some larger than life motivational quote. Allura can practically envision it on one of the many magnets Shiro puts on his fridge.

It’s rather unfortunate, then, that all that beauty is indefinitely wasted on one out of the only five people awake to witness it.

Though Allura isn’t quite sure that she’d classify her current state as being awake. 

Despite all of her motivational Pinterest boards and energising smoothie orders, Allura has never been much of a morning person. This, to be fair, is not for lack of effort on her behalf. In a true star-student slash overachiever fashion, she made sure to never waste a minute of daylight, no matter how much every inch of her soul wishes to protest. 

Judging by the way she allows her head to fall against her hands, though, her efforts had been in vain.

Lance (because he just has to be annoying about everything he does) takes to mornings just as smoothly as he does to chatting up grumpy coffee shop baristas; which is to say, surprisingly well.

Even though they both got up at the crack of dawn for their training (as per Allura’s request, because she seems to love making self-destructive choices), he has no problems with being just as talkative as always. Although he’s definitely much more vocal in his dislike for morning training than Allura will ever be (if anyone dares to ask, she absolutely adores waking up at five o'clock), he’s also much quicker at recovering from the initial sour mood that unavoidably stems from waking up to a starry sky. 

A perfect example of this would be the fact that he’s currently leaning halfway across the counter with a flirtatious smile- all sparkling eyes and casual charm- while Allura silently festers alone at their table. The thoughts that brew in her head are more bitter than the blackest of coffees.

She raises her head back up when she notices someone lingering by her side, fully expecting to be met with Lance’s dramatic interpretation of whatever it was that played out at the counter.

She can already envision it with concerning amounts of clarity; the way he’ll throw himself into the chair, ready to drown out the sleep-inducing music with pointless ranting. Allura will roll her eyes and pat him on the back, but she does actually enjoy these post-training hang-outs of theirs. Nothing chases the morning blues quite as well as listening to Lance complain about how handsome the morning shift barista is, while somehow also managing to sound angry about it.

Instead, whatever brilliant teasing remark she had formed in her head gets quite sufficiently replaced with a sound of blaring alarms and rose petals crowding her vision.

Because, of course.

Perpetually dressed up and graceful, it is only natural that Allura should meet the prettiest girl in the world the one time she looks an utter mess.

She tries not to stare too much. Partly because of this tiny, minuscule part of her brain that is still conscious enough to let her in on the fact that such behaviour would, indeed, be considered rude. But it’s also because the longer she stares, the more aware she becomes of her own unflattering post-swim practice look. The curls of her hair leave a damp spot at the collar of Lance’s washed-out hoodie, which hangs awkwardly from her shoulders. 

Her waitress really is someone you could stare at, though. Even if Allura can’t precisely pinpoint where she might know her from, there’s something distantly familiar about her. With her long blonde hair collected into a high ponytail, blue graphic liner and a wide grin, Allura thinks it would only be appropriate that a girl like this should come into her life accompanied by the first rays of sunshine.

And, alright, fuck.

She’s definitely staring now.

Keep reading

[romelle]

how you act and what you dare romellura | 3k words 

the title is from this song and the fic was inspired by this princess mage and knight art made by kenzie! i got a slight bit carried away by the sunny weather while writing, though, so i’ll probably also make a short sequel that matches the vibes of the drawing a little better :-) hope u enjoy!! 

🌼🍃🦋🌈💖🍓🌻🗡🔥🌷🌱🌼🍃🦋🌈💖🍓🌻🗡🔥🌷🌱🌼🍃🦋🌈

As someone who has been a knight for four phoebes (and a hopeful romantic for many more), Romelle truly isn’t as loud about her disappointment over not yet meeting the crown princess as she perhaps could be. 

Except, of course, when she is.  

“Why is she out of the kingdom, anyway?" 

It is hard to understand why one would wish to leave during Altea’s most delightful seasons. Spring has come and gone, but it did not take all its treasures away as it went. The fragrance of juniberries is still carried on the gentle summer breeze, and the sunlight travels joyously through the dancing leaves, settling on the bare skin of Romelle’s arms. After the day’s training, she has abandoned her knight armour, and her simple trousers are rolled up to her knees as she cools herself by dipping her feet into the stream. 

Despite the lack of armour (or perhaps precisely because of it), her battle axe still lays in the grass beside her. As it turns out, being childhood friends with a guy who carries a dagger to sleep will leave you with some habits of your own. 

"Studying alchemy, probably." 

Romelle turns to look at Keith, who is leaning against a nearby tree. The boy has rid himself of his chest plate as well, but he still appears to be much more on guard than Romelle is. She tilts her head and furrows her eyebrows, only the slightest bit sceptical. 

"So it is true, then? About her having magic?" 

Whispers spread fast in the castle walls. They spread especially fast in the walls that contain Hunk. Romelle is still relatively new to the mysteries and intrigues of royal lives, but it took little time for rumours of the crown princess’s ability to manipulate quintessence to reach her. It was a delicate matter if true, and therefore kept under the wraps by the royal family.

Keep reading

[romelle]

I do 🙌🏻 I want a headcanon post! Or a fic! Really enjoying your writing ✨💕💖

i'm sorry for such a long wait; i really wanted to respond with a fic, but i also had the worst writers block 😥 however i'm trying to break through it now, so here's some more taller lance content!! 💝🦋🌻🌈🍃

if i told you how i feel, would you know what the words mean? klance | 2k words | read here on google docs

[kraljevna-deactivated20210701]

lovebenders ➡️ kraljevna

i've been inactive here for a bit now, and today i've finally made a new blog ( @kraljevna )!! i'm going to do my best to refollow all of my mutuals in the next few days, but in case i accidentally miss you lmk :-)

[kraljevna-deactivated20210701]

lovebenders ➡️ kraljevna

i've been inactive here for a bit now, and today i've finally made a new blog ( @kraljevna )!! i'm going to do my best to refollow all of my mutuals in the next few days, but in case i accidentally miss you lmk :-)

[kraljevna-deactivated20210701]

lovebenders ➡️ kraljevna

i've been inactive here for a bit now, and today i've finally made a new blog ( @kraljevna )!! i'm going to do my best to refollow all of my mutuals in the next few days, but in case i accidentally miss you lmk :-)

[romelle]

🌌🌟🔮⚠️ no actual sex; just heated making out sessions & explicit content implied

working title: the final countdown (guitar solo) so um... happy new year? you can blame whatever this is on my girlfriend, and then also forget that i ever wrote it

[romelle]

klancemas day twenty six: family keith baby... that's not how dancing works (the sentiment is nice, though, so i guess we'll let it slide). i'm not the best at writing keith's pov, but practice is the surest way to improvement, and all that jazz! ✨🤍

[romelle]

klancemas days nine and eighteen: decorating + tree this was supposed to be short, but then i got inspired by a conversation my girlfriend and i had and i uh. got a liiittle carried away. clearly. i really like this one, though!🎄🌟

[romelle]

klancemas days fourteen to seventeen: double date, sledding, cold, holidays in space one bed? no 🤍 one sled. xhdbhx i'm not very happy with this one, but you can still have it so i don't have to look at it anymore! 🌨🛷

[romelle]

two times quick, one time slow

anon recently asked if i know any fics that feature a close friendship between keith & romelle. unfortunately, tumblr ate the ask when i tried to save it to my drafts, so i'm answering it this way! i couldn't think of any fics, but i wrote something to compensate 💖

It starts, in some ways, like this: the former leader of Voltron, his half-alien brother, a full-alien mom, a cosmic wolf, and an Altean all walk into Adam’s kitchen. 

The punchline doesn’t arrive until sometime later. 

Adam takes his time to prepare for the occasion. After all, it isn’t every day that your presumed-to-be-dead-in-space fiancé shows up for dinner after several years of being... Well, y’know.

Presumed dead in space.

It’s not exactly the kind of a situation that Adam can ask one of those dating advice blogs about, but he’s willing to give it a shot, if nothing else. They might have left things rocky between them, but Adam has lost Takashi one too many times for that to matter- and although some dating advice blogs might call him foolish for it, to let Takashi go now again by his own choice, without even trying, would make him an even bigger fool.

Besides, he assumes that plenty of people have probably excused their ghosting with reasons far lousier than the fact that they’ve been fighting in an intergalactic war. 

So, there’s also that.

They take it slow, at first. Sit on the opposite sides of the couch and all that; take their time to relearn each other, go through everything they left unsaid, and catch up on everything they missed. After two months pass by like this, Adam finally makes a resolute decision that dating advice bloggers can kiss his ass, and sets his mind to hold a celebratory dinner in honour of that decision. 

Long story short, he knows what he’s getting himself into. He washes his hair, inquires about Galra diets, and manages to fit five mismatched chairs around his dining table. Basically, he prepares himself for almost everything he assumes that dinner with his future husband’s alien posse could entail. 

The one thing he doesn’t prepare for, though, is a strange alien girl casually referring to him as her brother in law. 

But, alright, hold on. He should probably backtrack a little. 

For the better part of the night, Adam tries to interact with the adult side of the table, as he probably instinctively should. It isn’t very hard, because he really did miss the sound of Takashi’s voice, and this new white hair is honestly kind of doing it for him. But even though he is disgustingly in love, and although Keith’s mom is also insanely cool, there’s only so many badass MILF stories a man in his thirties can bear to hear before he eventually starts feeling a little down on himself. 

As Takashi and Krolia carry on with their conversation, Adam turns to look in Keith and Romelle’s direction.

Watching the two of them talk is funny in a way that makes it seem almost deliberate. Romelle’s every word is accompanied by a wild gesticulation to match, her arms and legs both involved in the process of telling a story. Keith, on the contrary, sits mostly still in his chair. His hands move only to play with his dinner knife, which Takashi readily reprimands him for. 

He’s smiling, though, and his arms are relaxed, as opposed to being protectively crossed over his chest. Both indicate that he feels rather at ease with the enthusiastic girl sitting to his left.

Pretending that he’s attempting to reach the salt, Adam curiously tries to tune in on their conversation.

“It’s a little different in Altean culture.”

Keith raises an eyebrow, leaning back in his chair.

“How so?”

“Well,” Romelle says,“We too use it as a ritual performed during festivities, but there is a little more nuance to it. Would you like me to show you?”

Curiously, Kieth nods. 

Romelle picks up her glass of strawberry juice, and motions for Keith to do the same. Once he does, she clinks her glass with his; two times quick, one time slow.

“Erkhil da’ tekina der, berhek da’ tekina fer,” she says, before pursing her lips. “It means...even if we are not of the same blood, the same drink warms our bellies. It’s a way of welcoming someone into your family.”

Keith smiles. “That’s… really nice, actually.”

Romelle returns the grin, nodding in agreement, but quickly replaces it with a thoroughly solemn face.

“You must be careful, though,” she warns. “If you do it three times fast instead, it means that you want to to put a curse onto the person’s entire bloodline.”

Adam tries to stifle the laugh that escapes him, but he still manages to catch Romelle’s attention.

“Oh! My apologies,” the girl says. “Do you need salt?” 

Before Adam can give a proper response, she shapeshifts so that her arm is long enough to reach the salt shaker at the far end of the table. She then presses it into Adam’s hand, like it’s nothing. 

He blinks.

“Holy fu-” 

“Adam,” Takashi warns, because he apparently developed a sixth sense that alerts him whenever someone is about to swear.

Adam snaps his mouth shut, still a little starstruck. 

“Right,” he finally says. “Thank you, Romelle.” 

The girl grins at him sweetly, acting as though she isn’t about to drop another bomb on him, after he has only had about ten seconds to recover from the previous one. 

“Anything for my future brother in law!” 

And, okay.

Hold up. 

Adam half expects that she has gotten her Earth terms mixed up, but when he looks at Keith for clarification, the little jerk (not even so little anymore, really- what kind of water were they drinking up there?) only shrugs. 

“Oh yeah, by the way,” Keith says, as though this is something that regular people just forget to mention. “Romelle is my little sister.” 

Adam’s first thought is that small talk with this family is an incredibly wild ride. 

Adam’s second thought is simply: oh. 

Because that... kind of makes sense, actually.

The Shiroganes always did have a knack for adopting younger siblings on a whim. 

Romelle watches him process this with a bashful look about her, as though she is honestly afraid of some sort of rejection.

Now, Adam can’t have that.

Carefully, he picks up his salt shaker, and clinks it against Romelle’s glass.

Two times quick, one time slow.

She smiles like he just gifted her the entire universe.

It reminds Adam of when Keith was still a little boy- grumpy, scrawny, and unused to receiving casual affection; far before he chugged all of that alien water and started acquiring little sisters across galaxies. 

It’s something about those big purple eyes, probably. Just like little Keith’s, Romelle’s too are glowing with earnest gratefulness- and a little bit of disbelief- of someone young but well acquainted with loss. 

It kind of makes Adam want to tear up. 

Maybe his honorary position as a Shirogane is already starting to get to him- because he immediately feels like adopting her as well.

Readily, he returns Romelle’s smile.

And so, in some ways, it also starts like this: Adam’s fiancé, his little brother, and the said brother’s mother, wolf and sister all walk into Adam’s kitchen. 

The punchline, in all possible ways, is this: by the time they walk out, they’re all his family, too.

[romelle]

klancemas day thirteen: gingerbread since i'm not sure if i made it clear enough: they're in a seceret relationship, but pretedning to still be rivals! a little rushed, but please take it 🍪🥛

[romelle]

klancemas day twelve: cuddling for warmth don't be fooled by lance's dramatic narration, it's just fluff! i need to relearn how to write them, and these prompts are wonderful practice 🥰🎄⛄

[romelle]

working on a kl fic? in 2020? yeah <\3 😖

[romelle]

can she please get a waffle?