[i need sleep..]

No one asked for it but here it is :)  Klance angst fanfic 

Warnings: ANGST, SO MUCH ANGST. (why did I do this to myself? I have no idea. I’m clearly a sadist that loves to see her son Keith suffer.  ( : yes I hate myself, thanks for asking lol. I’ll be in my grave after writing this byeeee)

                               What is and What Should’ve Been

“Keith, Lance is dead.” Allura told him those words exactly a week ago and he still couldn’t believe it. Keith hadn’t left his room since. There was a pile of uneaten food rotting outside his room.

Stupid idiot! Keith thought angrily. Why did he have to get into danger like that?

He had risked his life to save his fellow paladins, to save Keith. Keith had been pinned under a piece of scrap metal and Lance freed him before he got blasted by a beam of blue light, killed by his own lion turned against him.

That made it hurt worse for Keith. That blast was meant for him, not Lance. He’s the one who should be dead right now. Keith sat vigil for Lance for three days before the week the funeral would take place. Everyone needed time to grieve and process what happened, as well as time for the pods to store his memories in the castle.

Keith slams his fist down on the floor of his room, his head comes next. Pain shoots up his body but he doesn’t feel it, not really. Everything is numb. Tears run down his cheeks but he doesn’t wipe them away, he just lets them fall to the floor. Lance was an arrogant tool but…but he was my arrogant tool. Keith thought sadly. He’d never gotten a chance to say it. It was always “do it later” or “now’s not a good time”, or “there’s too many people around”. Keith could never get Lance away from everyone to speak to him alone.

Suddenly there’s a whoosh sound and a pod comes in behind a wall in Keith’s room. He didn’t even know that part of the wall could open. The Altean castle was always surprising him. He approached the pod and at once was overwhelmed by memories.

“It’s Lance,”

“Oh that’s right you’re a cargo pilot.”

The three of them saving Shiro that very first time Keith formally met Lance.

“We do make a good team”

The first time Keith and Lance actually worked as a time for once.

All the times Keith gets made fun of by Lance for being short or called “mullet head” or the time Lance wanted to stick Keith in a worm hole.

The bonding moment where Keith held hurt Lance in his arms. And he didn’t remember it, the bastard.

All the competition, the rivalry. It was fun, teasing Lance like that. Now he never would again. Throughout everything the pair had been through, throughout everything all the paladins went through, Keith had never told Lance how he truly felt. Now it was too late. He could have Lance’s memories, but he wasn’t obtained before he died, so his very being and essence couldn’t be stored in the castle-ship.

When the day of the funeral finally came, everyone had already been grieving when Keith emerged from his room. Pidge was crying softly into Shiro’s stomach. Next to them, Hunk was sobbing uncontrollably, and Coran did his best to calm the loudly weeping paladin. Allura and Coran wore their emotions on their sleeves and Shiro was oddly quiet, tears in his eyes. Keith bet everything Shiro would find a way to blame this on his poor leadership, but there was nothing Shiro could’ve done to stop Lance from being so strong-willed and arrogant enough to go try to save his fellow paladin. Keith blamed himself for being so hot-headed and putting Lance in a situation where he needed to save him in the first place. Normally it was Keith who had to save Lance in battle, not the other way around. He was protecting you, you’re a part of the team, you always have been Keith, selfish at first or not.

Shiro’s words sounded off in his head and deep inside himself Keith knew that Lance’s death was none of their faults but Zarkon’s. Keith vowed to get revenge on his friend’s death. He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up to see Shiro. He nodded at Shiro, as he led the others out of the room, as if on cue.

Without anyone else in the room, Keith couldn’t keep himself contained anymore. He broke down on top of the burial pod, tears gushing, angry fists pounding, guilt pounding like an infected stab wound, festering within him.

“I should’ve…I should’ve told you Lance. I should’ve told you something, anything. I should’ve told you…” Lance paused. Was there any point of saying it now? Now that Lance was dead? Keith wished with everything he had to take Lance’s place. If admitting it now would bring him back…

But it wouldn’t. Yet Keith knew he had to. He had to admit it to himself if to no one else, if for no one else’s benefit.

“I should’ve told you I loved you…” He spoke softly in the direction of the pod, trailing off as tears overwhelmed his vision. He pressed a button on the side of the pod, placed a gentle kiss on Lance’s forehead and pressed the button again, allowing the pod screen to slide back up.

“I love you Lance.” His words were more of a declaration now. “Did you hear me Lance? I said, I love you. I wish you’d come back to me. I love you.”

But only silence met his words. (Please send me feedback on this or any fanfic I write. Always ready to hear it :) )

  • Bruce: I am vengeance
  • Bruce: I am the night
  • Bruce: I am--
  • Bruce: *phone buzzes* *holds up finger* one sec
  • Criminal being strangled: Uhhh--
  • Bruce: *into phone* you remembered to put sunscreen in his bag, right?
  • Bruce: look I don't give a shit if he says he doesn't burn--
  • Bruce: Just make sure he wears his hat too--
  • Bruce: No, I'm on patrol.
  • Bruce: Yes, I'm busy, but sunscreen is import--okay.
  • Bruce: Okay, fine. Bye. *hangs up*
  • Bruce: *looks at criminal*
  • *awkward pause*
  • Bruce: You heard--
  • Criminal: *quickly* I didn't hear SHIT

This sounds dumb but I’ve decided I’m allowed to like languages without learning them. I’m allowed to learn languages just for the sake of it. I don’t need to reach C2 and have the linguistic prowess of Shakespeare in everything I do.

I mean sure there are some languages I want to reach ‘fluency’ in, and it’s something I’m working toward. But this is a hobby. This is fun. I don’t even take myself seriously in my native language, so why am I so uptight about perfection in my target languages?

Time to take a chill pill and just enjoy the journey.

I asked @thatsthat24 who would most likely wear Heelys, and he says it would be Patton. I drew the aftermath of him trying on Heelys and falling a numerous amount. I started drawing at 1:35 am or something and know it’s 2:57 in the morning. I am tired and I’m going to maybe sleep an question why I was drawing at almost three in the morning.

Just imagine

Cliché alien abduction where they kidnap a human to get info so they can invade, right? And once the aliens get around the language barrier, they question the human. And as they ask questions, they get more and more terrified.
Humans can live in -20-100 degrees Fahrenheit no probs
Sometimes the ground SHAKES for no reason, and we usually go on with our daily lives
We have oceans, pools of water literally miles deep
Not to mention the humans themselves
We will literally die for each other, for the good of the group
We have technology that will show us the stars
We can do extraordinary physical feats when under duress
When we lose limbs, we make metal to do the same job
And of course, the human who is telling the aliens this MIGHT exaggerate a bit
“I once saw a guy whose entire body was made of metal. First he lost an arm, then a leg…”
“Oh yeah, humans have huge underground cities, they can live down their for centuries!”