but i had feelings and had to vent them some way

anonymous asked:

The others interrogate Logan as to why he loves Word Association Games but hates puns~~~ (added plus if everybody gangs up on him with puns that are ALSO word associations ;);) )

Knife to Meet You

Fandom: Sanders Sides
Pairings: Logicality, Prinxiety, LAMP-ish
Warnings: Wordplay about knives

Tagged: @existental-crises@jordisama@here-to-vent


The Sides had been bickering in the common space for an hour.   Roman and Virgil were sitting on the couch while Patton and Logan stood in front of the TV, deep in an unnecessarily heated argument.  Neither wanted to admit that the conversation was silly and at this point, the other two were too worried about being dragged into it to speak up at all.

“Word association games and puns are not the same thing,” Logan said, arms firmly crossed in defiance.  Patton gaped for what was probably the dozenth time and retorted,

“Word play can be a game.  You play games, you’re using words, therefore it’s the same!”  Patton’s hands kept moving from his hips to his face, covering his mouth every time Logan said something he deemed outrageous.  At this point, the whole conversation had become a game.  Virgil and Roman felt like they were sitting at the sideline of a tennis match, heads bouncing from Patton to Logan and back again.  At some point they’d gotten up to get snacks, Virgil was sipping at some ginger ale while Roman happily munched down on popcorn, beginning to enjoy the verbal joust.

Keep reading

This post was triggered by something that @roachpatrol​ said over here about the expectation for girls to be sweet and clean and harmless:

Holy shit, if I was eight years younger and wandering into fandom for the first time, I can guarantee that the culture right now would’ve fucked me up and ground me down and taken away all my healthy outlets.

Picture: you are a girl at the tender young age of mumbledyteen. Up until this point you have been taught that all dark thoughts are literally hand-delivered into your head by the devil, and that the only correct method of dealing with negativity is to ignore them and pray harder. Concentrate on what is good and righteous and pure to the exclusion of all else, this is how you be a good person.

You are also a fully-functioning human being, one who can feel stressed or lonely or angry or any number of bad things. Mostly, with emotions that are still working themselves out, you feel this rumbling, white-hot white noise under everything, all the time. Sometimes it rolls in like a thunderstorm and everything else gets drowned out, and sometimes it’s only quietly muttering in the distance. Either way it’s always there, and the sound shreds uncomfortably at the inside of your brain.

When you were younger, before you were in charge of your own media consumption, your brain would shred up a myriad of saccharine stories to try and match the noise of the shredder in your head. Bad things happening, people getting hurt, characters trapped in unhealthy relationships of all kinds.

Fanfiction, the product of a hundred thousand other mumbledyteens whose brains are all screaming the same way, makes something in your brain go ping

Unfortunately, if the planet had ever been united on any single message, it was probably that no matter how you feel: 1) your feelings weren’t unique 2) they didn’t matter 3) they didn’t matter because they weren’t unique, they were shared among millions of hysterical, worthless teenaged girls just like you.

Fandom was confirmation of the first, but (with some hiccups along the way) outright rejection of the last two. Fuck you, our feelings do matter, and this is a story just for us.

A disclaimer: these aren’t good stories, otherwise they wouldn’t have to be defended. Their flavor of topic is not within societally acceptable bounds. Fictional characters have sex and get tortured and raped and abused, but their screaming harmonizes with the pitch of the shredder when it’s burrowing deepest.


As a teenager I never thought that my feelings were important enough to deal with, but these stories let me look at them sideways. Audience catharsis is the whole point of tragedy, after all.

And hell, these days I’m a happy, healthy adult who barely even has the urge to go looking for whump fic when I’ve had a bad week. I’m not going to forget just how much bad stuff that fic helped me air out, though, not ever. (Not to mention that thanks to all of those abuse!fics, I can recognize an unhealthy relationship at 500 paces, even if the fictional abuse was depicted as something loving and romantic. Abusers in real life don’t go around with helpful warning tags on their sleeves anyway.)

But holy shit, can you imagine if I’d found fandom as it is today.

Yes, your church is right, your family is right. Horrible things in stories are only there because they were written by horrible people, and they’re only popular because horrible people read them. The very concepts they address corrupt everything they touch.

That shredder in your head, the one that takes innocent cartoons but then shits out sadness and mayhem? That’s disgusting, you’re disgusting. How dare you think about minors having underaged sex, you minor? How dare you consider another person getting hurt? Your feelings don’t matter, they aren’t unique, they’re shared with all kinds of worthless shitbags just like you.

Every ounce of what you read and write and enjoy is going to be weighed for sin and tested for purity. You know, just like the rest of your life, except this time there’s no deity who’s handing out second chances.

Maybe that’s what bothers me most about all of this. It’s the same petty fandom bullshit as always, but “you’re wrong for liking a ship because IT WILL NEVER BE CANON” is a hell of a lot easier to laugh off when you’re young than “you’re wrong for liking a ship because YOU’RE AN ABUSIVE PEDOPHILE AND IF SOMETHING BAD HAPPENS IT’S YOUR FAULT FOR PERPETUATING IT.”

My fault, my bad thoughts, no outlet for any of them. The message to repress all the bad things so I can look like a good person, but my brain is so full of unprocessed shit that it’s solidified. Nobody actually saved any real children, but my brain sure is getting a second dose of fucked-up.

Are the people getting attacked going to be okay, will they be able to go and address their braingremlins somewhere else? I’d also ask if the people doing the attacking are okay, with all of the denial and repression they must deal with, but it seems like they’ve got venting pretty well handled by taking it out on strangers. 

Hey, c’mon, calm down friends. I bet I’ve read a story that’s got a character screaming at just the same pitch you are.

It helps to read one of those and harmonize your voices, I promise.

Wanna know the truth behind Girls like Girls?

I have been working on finding my voice for years. As an artist, I always want everything I create to represent what my soul feels and sounds like – whether it’s a video concept or a lyric or melody.

Two years ago on a rare rainy day in Los Angeles, in a songwriting session with Owen Thomas and Lily May Young, I was venting my frustration about my music not connecting the way I wanted it to. Lily looked me in the eye and asked, “Tell me something nobody knows about you, something you are afraid to sing about?“ I immediately thought, well I like girls and that’s what I want to sing about, but even then I struggled to say it out loud. Finally, I told Lily that I always say “you” and “them" and never the pronoun “her" in all my songs because I was afraid it wouldn’t connect. We talked more about concepts and my experiences, and how I loved the idea of stealing another guy’s girl because that was always a fantasy of mine. Growing up, everything I did was always about girls. I took dance because of girls. I got involved in student council because of girls. Not that I ever expected any of them to like me back, but I just felt comforted being around them, even if I could never date them. So there we were. The song “Girls like Girls" was born.

I imagined a very emotional, heart-wrenching but real music video to go along with the song. When we shot the music video for “Girls like Girls,“ I felt like I was finally telling my story for the first time. The yearning feelings I had and also the feeling of being so alone. I think that’s why people connected with the music video. Not only because they too have experienced deeply liking someone, but also the sadness and longing that comes with it. You could be around so many people, and still have the feeling of being so alone and misunderstood. It’s that fear of rejection and uncertainty of whether the person will like you back that makes you question everything. I struggled with these feelings so much growing up. I’d fall in love with girls who would never give me the time of day, or if they would, they had no idea I had other intentions. I had my heart broken over and over again; I never felt good enough. My life was led by these crushes as far back as first grade, when I had a crush on my teacher. That was the first time I realized I liked girls. But the problem is you feel like you can’t share these true feelings with anyone for fear of outing yourself and facing judgement. So you struggle. And feel alone. Growing up, there were some [out] celebrities who were much older than I was and I wondered if I had to wait until then to be happy. I didn’t have role models who I could relate to at the time, where I could think, if they can do it, I can do it.

Most of the time, you become confident after years of struggling during your young adulthood. I want to encourage the youth to find that confidence now. Not later. For them to know their own self-worth at an earlier age. It’s been really cool at my concerts to see all of these young fans showing up alone, and then leaving with friends. The music and stories I create have built this judgement-free safe zone. But most of all, they have inspired me to be comfortable with myself, and to let them in. They unintentionally gave me a gift that I am forever grateful for. Most of my music isn’t necessarily about heartbreak or other people, but more so everyone’s personal journey and falling in love with yourself.

I think that’s why my fans and I relate to each other. My music reassures them that they aren’t alone – that their feelings are valid, that they are enough and they will find someone to love them back. I didn’t have that hope growing up, so I get emotional and inspired (or encouraged) every time I meet a fan who looks at me that way.

It’s hard sometimes, especially after this election, because I feel a responsibility to these girls. I know they are looking to me for guidance and comfort. It breaks my heart that fear is so present in our world right now. School is hard enough and it breaks my heart to see these kids under attack by hate crimes and bullying.

Hope. That’s my cause. I strive to inspire hope through human compassion and through music. Hope leads me through my lyrics, stories, and melodies. You must continue on, and know in your heart you are not alone, and have confidence that love will find its way back to you.

✰ * º ❛ even more popular text posts ask meme. ❜

‘  my kink is getting some fuckin sleep.  ’
‘  omg here goes your lil crybaby ass.  ’
‘  the beatles wouldn’t even fucking exist if big time rush hadn’t paved the path for them so shut the fuck up.  ’
‘  don’t start buddy. don’t you dare.  ’
‘  gay rights? true, as a gay, i am always right.  ’
‘  not to vent, but: fuck.  ’
‘  the worst pain is to make small talk with someone you once told everything to.  ’
‘  i think i accidentally break my own heart a lot.  ’
‘  sometimes ‘brb’ stands for ‘be ready bitch’ so you have to be careful.  ’
‘  i want to kiss you in a way that makes you not want to kiss anyone else ever again.  ’
‘  shout out to the people who are still friends with me even though i’m a fucking idiot.  ’
‘  it’s safe to assume that at any given moment i want to go back to bed.  ’
‘  i’m a big fan of anything that will help me chill the fuck out.  ’
‘  i don’t go through people’s pictures on their phone cause i wasn’t raised in the jungle.  ’
‘  i think we, as a people, just need to have a glass of water.  ’
‘  i don’t have enough black clothes.  ’
‘  sweetie, i could sleep for ten years and i’d still be tired.  ’
‘  i would sleep so much better with your arms wrapped around me.  ’
‘  me??? tired??? sleepy??? yes, constantly.  ’
‘  i’m pb&j – petty, bitter, and jealous.  ’
‘  the fact that sloths aren’t extinct somehow proves that if you go at your own pace and mind your own fucking business you too can succeed.  ’
‘  i wish i could be the person i want to be, but i’m too tired.  ’
‘  i always look sleep deprived. is that hot?  ’
‘  just because there’s always room for improvement doesn’t mean you’ll never be good enough.  ’
‘  my heart is a soft and sensitive mess.  ’
‘  all i want is a big garden and no responsibilities.  ’
‘  honestly someone not liking beyonce is a deal breaker and not for any political reasons, but just like you’re probably, definitely really boring.  ’
‘  hey guys, i’m a huge fan of genuine love and affection.  ’
‘  now i’m falling asleep and she’s calling a crab and he’s having a smoke and she’s kissing the crab.  ’
‘  i’ve been ever since i heard ‘lonely’ by akon at 9 years-old.  ’
‘  my new years resolution is to stop.  ’
‘  i’m irritated cause i’m not lovable in a romantic soulmate way.  ’
‘  i hate knowing that people that ruined parts of me still live and function like nothing ever happened.  ’
‘  i know i’m cute, but you can remind me.  ’
‘  hey, just wondering, but are you fucking kidding me????  ’
‘  i can’t wait to be in love with someone who is also deepfuck in love with me and we love each other forever n’ ever.  ’
‘  me? clingy? yes. please don’t leave me.  ’
‘  girlfriend application compatibility question: do you keep your depression pile on the bed or on the floor?  ’
‘  anything heart shaped is automatically 200% better. this is a fact.  ’
‘  today’s agenda: screaming into the abyss.  ’
‘  going from ‘today is a good day’ to ‘i hate my life’ takes me approximately 2.6 seconds.  ’
‘  everyone needs to wash their face and go to bed.  ’
‘  i’m worth so much more than the ways i’ve been treated.  ’
‘  hey, can i claim you guys as dependents on my taxes?  ’
‘  i really just ignore phone calls. like leave a message. i don’t check those either but like  ’
‘  i honestly just want to pack my bags and go travel the world and see and explore everything possible.  ’
‘  remember being little and thinking dandelions were fun or a pretty color or something and every adult in an 80 mile radius wouldn’t let you say that without screaming IT’S A WEED.  ’
‘  why did we just accept catdog?  ’
‘  my ‘stay in bed all day’ game’s too strong.  ’
‘  you deserve to be loved without having to hide the parts of yourself that you think are unlovable.  ’
‘  i always forget that i literally don’t owe anyone anything!  ’
‘  i wonder what it feels like to know what the fuck is going on.  ’
‘  honestly… us girls? us women? we always out here, knowin.  ’
‘  would an alien think i’m pretty?  ’
‘  i love boys, but only as a concept.  ’
‘  why do parents get mad when you sleep in all day? like i’m staying out of trouble and i’m not spending your money like what’s the issue here????  ’
‘  i identify as an inconvenience to the world.  ’
‘  i seriously regret telling anyone, anything, ever lmao  ’
‘  dating me is like dating a five year-old. i need all of your attention and i’m cranky if i haven’t had a nap.  ’
‘  i’m literally tired of myself.  ’
‘  don’t introduce me to ur parents unless you plan on marrying me because they’re going to love me and ask about me for the rest of your life lol  ’
‘  what the hell is a straight person? only straight thing i know about is the edge of my beloved sword.  ’
‘  i highly recommend never having feelings.  ’
‘  self care is going into a cornfield at night to get abducted by aliens.  ’
‘  staying up late with another human is such a weird thing like you get this special bond and a what-is-this feeling  ’
‘  do u ever feel like ur not even friends with ur friends?  ’
‘  um no offense but whom’st’ve going to loveth me?  ’
‘  date a girl who fucks everything up.  ’
‘  not all who mcfreakin wander are mcfreakin lost.  ’
‘  i may legally be an adult but don’t be fooled. i have no idea what i’m doing.  ’
‘  a fun and interesting fact about me is that i’m a fucking idiot.  ’
‘  you can start again anytime!  ’
‘  all you can do is learn your lesson. there’s no point in wishing you had did differently. the past is the past.  ’
‘  i can’t believe an angel like me has to suffer so much.  ’
‘  you’re all so obsessed with love and being loved. what about just going to sleep?  ’
‘  i’m smart, but i do dumb shit anyway.  ’
‘  tbh i never deal with my emotions. i just let them ravage my body and then go to bed and then i wake up and do it all over again.  ’
‘  first of all: i don’t know shit, so jot that down.  ’
‘  i’ll just ¯\ _(ツ)_/¯ my way through life.  ’
‘  i’m tired of things costing money.  ’
‘  don’t you hate it when you’re dead inside and run out of apps to refresh?  ’
‘  who cares? do better, move on.  ’
‘  i don’t need a significant other. just a significant income.  ’
‘  appreciation for everyone who’s ever talked to me bc i’m annoying and dumb.  ’
‘  thnks fr th mntl llnss.  ’
‘  what  hasn’t killed me has just made me overly sensitive and defensive.  ’
‘  i don’t know shit ya’ll!!!!! i’m just out here.  ’
‘  binge-watching is great until you run out of the show and have to start watching it weekly like some sort of medieval peasant.  ’
‘  i’m in the wrong realm and i think everyone can tell.  ’
‘  this might come as a shock but I’m Not Feelin too good my dudes.  ’
‘  i’m alive, but only ironically.  ’
‘  there she goes again being over dramatic and by she, i mean me.  ’
‘  do you ever feel like have tried Too Hard to a friend and now you have become That Obnoxious Weirdo?  ’
‘  lgbt: lasagna! garfield’s beloved treat.  ’
‘  my favorite phrase in the english language is ‘i shit you not.’  ’
‘  i’m a real boring bitch! a snoozer!  ’
‘  i honestly look so good lounging in an oversized t-shirt and no pants. when will someone experience the blessing of domestic living w/ me?  ’
‘  you don’t understand how hard it is to take a selfie when you’re ugly.  ’
‘  you son of a mumford!  ’
‘  hi, i’m here to ruin everything.  ’
‘  you can tell a lot about a person by looking at their hands. for example, if it’s a skeleton hand then they’re dead.  ’
‘  the year is 2020 and i am found guilty of treason against the united states for vague blogging that i hate someone and donald trump thought it was about him.  ’
‘  everybody calm down, we’re going to be fine! :))) we’ve weathered worse than this! :) :) :) :) really all this panic just seems like a huge overreaction imho   ’
‘  no beta readers. we publish our crap writing like men.  ’
‘  i need $$$$$ not feelings.  ’
‘  ‘idk imma see’ = i ain’t coming, never was coming, never considered it, never gave it a single thought, only remembered cause you asked again.  ’
‘  oops, i don’t care lol  ’
‘  why girls always crop the halo out of their selfies? stop being so modest. we know the truth.  ’
‘  maurice, you’re not gonna fucking believe this,  ’
‘  i always get told i look like a bitch bc i’m always glaring while i walk, but i’m not glaring, i’m squinting. i have sensitive eyes. they’re watering.  ’
‘  concept: it’s 3 am. candle lit room. a record is spinning. you’re kissing me. we have no worries in the world. we’re warm and content.  ’
‘  i need to go into the forest and scream for an hour and a half.  ’
‘  pls kill all men who yell at girls from cars.  ’
‘  life really isn’t what i expected it to be. less quicksand. almost no quicksand to be honest. lots of metaphorical quicksand tho.  ’
‘  i have a question for u: like are u done… like is it over?  ’
‘  we all have that one person who ruins your day by being alive.  ’
‘  we all have that one person who ruins your day by being alive. for me, it’s myself.  ’
‘  whenever i see police i always try not to act suspicious and fail internally even though i never did anything wrong.  ’
‘  new years resolution: less bitter, more glitter.  ’

anonymous asked:

I think the most important question of all time is if Derek prefers belly rubs, or is he the kind of 'clingy when cuddling' boyfriend so he just lays on top of Stiles and lets him rub his back (and sometimes his butt) ? My personal headcanon is that werewolves can get sort of stoned from their mate's scent and Derek once a month likes to climb into Stiles' lap and melt into his arms surrounded by his boyfriend's scent. Bonus pie points if Derek steals Stiles' shirts to wear when he's napping

You have no idea how much I just screamed over this ask. This is being filed under “favourites”, for sure. 

I think Derek is the type of guy who really, really likes cuddles and anything that involves getting to touch Stiles, but pretends he’s completely indifferent to it/does it only to “shut Stiles up”. Which, you know, is complete lies. The first time Stiles sleeps next to Derek in a bed, it’s painfully obvious Derek wants to cuddle but he just doesn’t know how to go about asking. Poor, awkward lamb. Stiles nearly makes a joke at Derek’s expense about how obvious it is because, well, but he refrains at the last minute upon seeing Derek’s face - Derek doesn’t just look nervous, he looks scared, like he might be rejected - and shaking his head (because this adorable asshole) Stiles shifts closer and hastily mumbles something about not having his pillow, “so you’ll have to do, big guy”.

Before they get together, it takes a while for Derek to get used to being tactile with Stiles. Derek is fine touching other people - he has the control that way - but he’s still not good with people touching him. Unfortunately, that’s not a great combination when you are a touch starved werewolf with trust issues, because it pretty much means the only kind of physical contact Derek ever receives is either in life or death situations or during (not so fun and friendly) pack training sessions. Not ideal. Of course, after a while, Stiles clocks this. 

Stiles has known about Derek’s touch issues since he first met him, but it’s better now (he thinks). So he tries small things: sitting next to Derek during pack movie nights and pressing his leg against his; letting himself fall asleep on Derek’s shoulder (desperately trying not to read too much into it when Derek doesn’t move away); and, a few times, hugging Derek goodbye and lingering longer than he should each time he does it. 

After a while, Derek starts touching Stiles back. One day, he just crawls through Stiles’ window and sits by Stiles’ bed until Stiles - very tired and not thinking things through too much - puts a hand on Derek’s shoulder and tells him in no uncertain terms “ to get up here for some Stilinski spooning time”. Derek grumbles at that but he’s in Stiles’ bed exactly twenty seconds later, which gives Stiles major pause for thought. 

Major.

And listen, this is how it goes on. They aren’t even together but Derek touching Stiles and being touched by him soon becomes A Thing. For both of them. A very important thing. The life of Derek Hale suddenly becomes about three things: the pack, Cora, and Stiles. 

Sometimes, Stiles sleeps over at the loft. Not for any reason other than the fact Stiles does a lot of late night research there, but after a while it kind of becomes apparent Stiles is there for “research times” and what he has come to call “Derek’s personal pillow times”. Derek’s person pillow times often involve Derek shyly (but somehow still grumpily) crawling into Stiles’ lap and (not so subtly) scenting him. Stiles asked about the scenting thing once and Derek stopped for three weeks, entirely embarrassed - Derek had looked so upset and torn about the whole thing (aka, he looked like a hurt five year old) that eventually Stiles had just marched into the loft, stuck Batman on, and told Derek to get his “fluffy butt in here. I mean it Derek, my neck is lonely now. Don’t leave a bro in need like this, it’s accustomed to your snout!” Stiles expected Derek to either throw him out or snark at him for that but instead, Derek shuffled - actually shuffled - into the room (still appearing out of nowhere, the creepy show off), holding himself rather tight, before crawling into Stiles’ lap and staying there for exactly 2.5 Batman movies, face buried in Stiles’ neck. (Stiles does not grin manically when he feels Derek’s whole body sag against him, like he hasn’t been able to settle without him.) 

During Stiles’ second year of college, they have their first kiss. Well, if a first kiss can be called a first kiss when the dude you are hard core crushing on puts a finger to your lips half way through your perfectly valid rant about why Princess Leia is The Best, stares into your eyes for a solid three minutes (and somehow makes it both awkward and the best fucking thing you have ever experienced when looking at someone), before placing a very soft and intimate kiss to your neck. Stiles has no idea what it even means until he eventually plucks up the courage to ask Cora who instantly threatens him with bodily harm if Stiles hurts her brother. (”So, uh, the neck thing was…..?” “My brother’s traditional, dorky way of telling you he loves you. Duh. Jesus Stiles, and you call yourself our Emissary?”)

From then on out, Derek’s attachment to touching Stiles just becomes more intense. In front of people and the pack he’ll settle for holding hands or being next to Stiles, but in private he becomes like a lazy cat. He gets very pouty when he wakes up and finds Stiles not in bed for morning cuddles; he loves being able to wash Stiles’ hair; back rubs and head rubs are his favourite, especially when he’s reading or they are watching movies (Derek’s introducing all the classics to Stiles, like Rebecca and The Breakfast Club; “no, Spider-man doesn’t count as a classic, Stiles” “says who?” “says me if you still want a blow job later” ). Mostly though, he just loves being in his old position of sitting in Stiles’ lap and burying his face in Stiles’ neck. 

Sometimes Stiles will talk about his day while Derek does this and it works for both of them because Derek is surrounded by Stiles’ scent, his voice, his whole being; and that calms him, settles him in a way he hasn’t been since before the fire. And in turn, having someone to listen to him - really, truly listen - while he’s talking, brings Stiles a kind of happiness he’s never experienced before. Sure, people hear him. They talk to him and hold conversations. But sooner or later Stiles always sees their eyes wander, sees the start of a yawn or is outright told to shut up. 

Stiles knows his attention isn’t anything to write home about but there is a difference between being unable to hold someone’s attention and someone just not wanting to hold your attention, specifically. Of course, Derek still tells Stiles to shut up, that’s never a thing that stopped between them, but now it usually ends in heated make out sessions or sex, so, Stiles really has no complaints. But in moments like these, with Derek in his lap, Derek just listens. He can sit for hours and never tires of Stiles. If Stiles is happy, he smiles into his neck, makes these little happy sounds; if he’s sad, he’ll kiss his neck, and murmur quiet things; angry, he’ll hold him tighter and let him vent, for as long as he likes. 

Some couples have hobbies, have things, but this is their ritual. Just this. Every other day, just having this quiet moment of peace and happiness. A bubble no one can penetrate. It’s a visible anchor, the place they always come back to. It’s a place they both need; the place Stiles needs when he’s feeling insecure and the place Derek needs when he’s feeling lonely. Nothing can touch them in it, no high is better. Especially to Derek who really can feel a little drunk off of Stiles’ scent, sometimes. It’s a kind of closeness both of them have always craved but never really gotten. It’s Derek’s way of saying I love you when he finds it difficult to say it. It’s Stiles’ way of knowing I’m needed when he doubts it. 

It’s just them, and even though it sometimes freaks Stiles out - the stillness, the fact he can be this still, for hours - it serves as a precious reminder that after all the chaos, after all the loss and heart break, that they found this: they found a small and quiet, beautiful thing. And they found it in each other, which is both the most baffling and the least surprising thing of all. 

The Void Inside Me (NSFW 18+)

A/N: This idea was sprouted by one of those ads we’re the two people are texting about something really agnsty or suspenseful and you have to download the app to see the whole story. I loved the idea so much and thought no one would be more suited for it than Void. I want to thank @writing-obrien for seriously helping me out with this when I was completely stumped. Also @celestial-writing because this fic would not be finished if it weren’t for her motivating me to push through up until the very end. And @sarcasticallystilinski too for all her feedback. I think they all edited this at some point too so thank you beautiful babes, I love you all more than most. Lastly, Koneko is Japanese for kitten so says google translater. I’m sorry if I got that wrong.

Warnings: Smut; choking.

Word Count: 6860

|Masterlist|

Originally posted by teendeucalion

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Levi Ackerman: The Abuse Claim

Alright, so here I am with another long ass meta post. Only this time, this one is directed solely at the legend, Levi Ackerman himself. Yet again, I am seeing the “Levi is Abusive” mumbo jumbo and I have spent my two years in this fandom quiet about my opinions on this for the most part because I do not enjoy drama. However, after this last batch of Discourse™ that I have seen, I have been pushed beyond my ability to bite my tongue. 

This is Part One to a two part meta, and this is me basically trying to shine light on Levi’s actions a bit and why he behaves the way he does. In no way do I try to justify all of the shit he carries out so don’t think this is just a fangirl squeal post. I’m simply trying to better explain his character for the people who seem to think he is some kind of rage beast who beats kids for fun in his spare time. 

I will be putting this under a Read More because it is extremely long and also contains spoilers. I’d also like to state that this would be best read from a computer or the mobile website as it contains a metric fuckton of manga panels used for reference (seriously use any other means outside of the mobile app to read this because the app will butcher this post and cut out a majority of the images). If you are sitting down to read this, please make sure you are comfy, cozy, and drinking a nice warm beverage. Now then, 

DISCLAIMER: This is my personal opinion. In no way am I stating what I say here is completely accurate. if you disagree with my opinion, good for you! That’s your prerogative. However, If you are going to send me messages trying to argue points of view with me or send me hate messages because my opinion differs from your own; do us both a favor and just don’t even bother. WARNING: Major spoilers ahead.

First and foremost, this is the scene I see brought up the absolute most so I’d like to go ahead and address it first:

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Temptation: Chapter 1 (M)

Based on this request for a lovely anon. Enjoy it mate ;)

Moodboard

Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Werewolf! Jungkook, smut

Word count: 4,126 words

Chapter 1 | 2


Bang. Bang. Bang.

“Jungkook!”

No answer.

BANG. BANG. BANG.

“Jungkook!”

Still no answer. You didn’t care that an old lady walking behind you gave you a very dirty look before shuffling down the corridor to her own apartment. It was only the manners instilled by your parents that stopped you from shooting daggers right back at her.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

“JEON JUNGKOOK! Open the fucking door right now or I -”

Your shouts as well as your fist froze in mid-air when the door whipped open to reveal the man whose name you’d been yelling at the top of your lungs.

“Why the hell are you banging my door down?” Jungkook’s frown and his tone told you that he was irritated, which fueled your anger even more. He had no right to be annoyed at you after the shit he had put you through today.

“Why weren’t you at work?” You managed to lower your volume now that there wasn’t a door separating the two of you, but you made sure that he knew how angry you were.

“I took a day off, but I’m sure you could have gotten that information from the HR.”

His flippant answer didn’t impress you one bit. “You know that isn’t what I’m talking about.”

“Then what are you talking about?” The question came out sounding incredulous, but you didn’t miss the uncomfortable shuffling of the guilty man. He knew what you were talking about. Before you could point it out, however, a high-pitched woman’s voice called from inside his apartment.

“Who’s at the door, babe? Come back to bed, I can’t wait anymore!”

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Lance is a Boy #2

One of the last things Lance expected was for Coran to continue typing as if nothing had just been announced. Lance had braced himself for some kind of reaction but nothing came, it was only when his shoulders went down and his muscles released tension did he even know he was stiff in the first place.
“Ok so if you’ll just step into this healing pod, I gave it a blue hue so you’ll know it’s yours, it has your information in it so it’s optimized to heal you asap, if hunk came in it would still heal him but at a much slower rate, especially considered the differentiated sexes.” Lance stared at coran in shock and awe.
“So you just.
You’re just gonna
Yknow
Ignore the fact that I don’t have a….
Yknow.”
The only thing that greeted Lances question was a look of confusion from the old Altean, suddenly the realization graced his face. “Why would I? It’s your business if you’re a boy or a girl, I don’t care, to me your Lance; the blue paladin of Voltron,” he turned to Lance after opening the pod and put a comforting hand on his shoulder “and a great person.”
Lance blushed, not in a way you’d blush because of a crush, but because that was the easiest anyone had ever taken the news and after the fact respected him, his family didn’t even react that well, especially his…

Nevermind.
“Thank you Coran, thank you so much.” Coran gave a firm squeeze on Lances shoulder and he went to pull away but Lance hugged him, going under his arms. The altean had to reach up to wrap his arms around Lances shoulders, but only slightly.
“I really don’t understand-” he was lifted off the ground “oh my goodness!” There was laughter and coran was set back down. (Through a few aftermath giggles) coran continued “as I said I really don’t understand the fuss? Why are you so happy? Is this not a common opinion back on earth? Do people not get to choose their representation?” There was genuine curiosity in Corans tone. Lance walked into the pod as he answered.
“Well… not exactly? Some people are lucky and get families that don’t question anything, L-Like you! But then there’s families that just, don’t understand or accept you.” Lance broke his fluidity for a moment to mourn how he was treated, but continued before he got upset “I don’t know about on Altea but on Earth there are 2 sexes, Male and Female, you’re born as one of them and that’s how society expects you to act as you grow up, some of us, like me, are born in the wrong body or choose to act as the opposing gender they were assigned or neither of them, or both!” There was a brief pause. Coran had closed the pod and it suctioned shut, but he was still listening through a simulated intercom of sorts that allowed patients to talk to their caretakers, as Lance was doing with Coran right now.
“Earth seems strange.” He furrowed his brow .
“It really is,” Lance confirmed “how was it on Altea?” Curiosity over how Coran was reacting to Earth customs made The boy ask.
“Well, we’re all born, what’s the term on Earth? Asexual I think? We don’t really have an assigned gender, our marks on our cheeks, these.” He pointed to the small check under his eye. “These suggest what we may be when we’re older, boys, girls, the odd Altean had purple or green which suggested they were something else. Due to our unique ability to adapt and transform we can change our bodies almost at will, initially a power given to us so we could be diplomats, we used it for gender assignment as well. As you get older you choose what you would like to be and over the course of a month you change into whichever gender you choose, but there’s no shame in making a mistake.” Coran raised his eyebrows to Lance “in fact most Alteans had to change 3 or 4 times before deciding what they wanted to be, including me. It’s rare for someone to know who they were on the first try, but some did, even Allura thought she was a boy at first, though when she changed into a girl that’s where she stayed. I was a boy then a girl then a boy then neither then a boy, then I finally decided that that’s who I was. Maybe that’s why I don’t think it’s a big deal that you were born a female Lance, maybe I know what you’re going through to an extent, because I was so uncertain and no matter what I did it didn’t feel right until the last time, and at that point I was afraid to tell people because I’d changed my mind so many times.” He sighed and looked at Lance, “you are a boy right now Lance, right?”
Lance was standing in the healing pod, seriously examining every word Coran said, and hanging onto every syllable.
“Yes Coran, I am a boy.” He said solemnly.
“Would you like me to refer to you as a boy?” Corans voice was confident and confiding.
“Yes.” Lance smiled at coran who let the corners of his mustang rise and his teeth reveal a smile.
“I must go and finish dusting the vents, when you’re good to go the pod will open, feel free to sleep, endorphins will be released when you’re done so you wake up.” Coran put his hand onto the glass of the pod as a farewell and Lance let him go, not saying a final word.
There were thoughts racing through his head, occasionally of jealousy of the Alteans and their ability to shape shift, but he pushed it aside and thought of his team mates, would they think of him differently if they found out he was a girl? He knew he’d freak out if he found out one of them was, there’s no way any of them could possibly be a girl, if one of them were he’d spaz, he’d… he’d… he’d be happy to know that someone else knew what he was going through. But he’s not a girl. But he was, mama always said she wanted her daughter back, so he must’ve been a girl at some point right? Was it too late to change his mind? No, it wasn’t, but Lance wasn’t a girl, Lance was a boy, and deep, deep down, he knew it.

… To be continued…
FUTURE HEARTS | PT.1 [M]

pt1 | pt2 | pt3 | pt4 | pt5 | pt6 | (ongoing)

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre: smut, angst, punk!jungkook

word Count: 14,241

description: It was everything, from his tattoos, to his touches, to the way sweat rolled down his neck as he strummed into his guitar on stage; everything about him completely enthralled you. So why are you now, two and a half years later, on a train to Seoul, telling a complete stranger the recollection of how you became fated to forever have scars on all of your future hearts due to the happiness, but most of all the pain, that came along with falling in love with Jeon Jungkook. 

note: inspired by the anime/manga “Nana”

cr.


The icy breeze whipped across your face as you started your approach towards the building. The speed of your heart was increasing with every step, your legs began to weigh you down like lead, and your breathing became harsh and ragged. Nerves were infecting your body, intensifying as you finally reached the automatic doors. You closed your eyes, taking in a deep breath before finally stepping forward. The doors opened for you, and the bustling Busan train station was revealed.

Noises echoed in every direction, you watched as people quickly rushed towards their trains, and you suddenly figured that you should do the same. You shook away your wonder as you started to go through bag check, but your eyes still managed to drift around the building that you remembered all too well.

It was quieter back then, or maybe it wasn’t. You might’ve just been so numbed by all of the pain you were feeling that you couldn’t sense anything else. Your eyes glided across the path that had been etched into your mind for the past year and a half.

“I know it doesn’t seem like it, but I love you so much. I really fucking do.”

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Hiraeth | Pt.13

pt.1 | pt.2 | pt.3 | pt.4 | pt.5 | pt.6 | pt.7 | pt.8 | pt.9 | pt.10 | pt.11 | pt.12 | pt.13 pt.14

Words: 5,388.

Genre: Zombie apocalypse au, angst.

Summary: A world full of dwindling hope and lost loves and yet you and Jungkook are all the other needs to feel at home.

Warning: Contains mature content (such as coarse language, violent themes, and intense subject matter).

A/N: This part was inspired by a scene in the series for The Maze Runner (I can’t say which scene for sake of spoilers but you’ll know).

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Request: Hi! Would it okay to make a request? Ivar x Reader have a really nasty argument right before Ivar has to sail away for a raid or something which leads to make up sex when he gets back? Sorry! I really adore you Ivar x Reader’s!

Note: The argument got a little more intense then I had intended when I started this. I hope you still like it, nony.

Warning: Contains rough smut and some violence.

—————————————————————————————————-

“This is delicious.“  Ivar said, mouth still full of food. “Did you cook it or the slaves?”

You smiled at him. “I did. I don’t need any slaves to take care of me.”

“And you think I do?” He replied with grin.

“Well, I don’t know. Do you, son of Ragnar Lothbrok, prince of Kattegat?”

“Of course not. I just prefer not to waste time on cooking and such things. And you make it sound like I was sitting on a throne all day long, having servants tending to all my wishes.”

“Is that not what you do?” You said, giving him a mischievous grin from across the table.

He groaned and threw one of his potatoes at you. “Shut up!”

You ducked under the flying potato. “I’m just worried that no one will feed you the next few weeks.”

“Then maybe you should change your mind and come with me.”

Your grin faded and you got serious. “You know there’s nothing I want more but my father has gotten so sick and since mother died there’s no one else to take care of him.”

“I know. But I will miss you.”

You reached across the table and put your hand on his cheek. “Promise me you’ll come back to me.”

He placed his hand on yours. “Always.”

You smiled at each other and you got lost in his mesmerizing blue eyes, like you had so many times in the past.

After a while Ivar broke the silence. “Speaking of coming back, where have you been all day? I’ve been looking for you and then I saw you coming out of the forest.”

“I’ve been helping your brother.”

“Which brother?” He asked and you did not miss a certain sharpness in his voice.

“Ubbe.”

“Why are you spending so much time with Ubbe recently?” He wanted to know, his tone now clearly annoyed.

You rolled your eyes. Ivar could be so loving and caring when he wanted to but sometimes he acted like a child, especially when he was jealous of his brothers.

“He is building a house for himself and Margrethe, so I figured he could use some help.” You replied, unable to hide an unnerved undertone.

“If you help him with his house then what have you been doing in the forest?”

“We’ve been cutting trees.”

“And was Margrethe also there?”

“No she wasn’t. She had other stuff to do. What are all these questions?” You were starting to lose your patience.

Ivar’s eyes narrowed. “So you’ve spend the whole day in the forest, alone with my brother. And you want me to believe you’ve been cutting trees?”

“What else would we’ve been doing, Ivar? Hmm? You tell me.” Your voice coming out louder and more angry than you had intended.

“I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking you.” He replied, his voice seeming completely calm, but you knew him well enough to know that it was very likely just the quiet before the storm. But you could not care for that now because your own anger was starting to cloud your mind. How could he dare to accuse you of such things?

“You know what, Ivar? Think whatever you want. I’m tired of your mood changing from one second to the next for no reason. If you want to go ahead and play the spoiled little prince that’s fine, but do it with someone else because I’m really tired of it.”

You saw Ivar’s eyes become dark with anger and immediately regretted your words but it was too late to take them back.

Ivar leaned over the table. “You are mine. You better don’t forget that.” He hissed.

You also leaned forward so that your face was just inches from his. His jaw was clenched and his eyes dark like the stormy sea. He radiated such anger that it scared you a bit, but you were a Viking, you were taught to never let your fear show.

“I don’t belong to anyone. You better don’t forget that.” You spat, echoing his words.

You could see him clenching his jaw even harder and releasing a stiff breath, fighting to keep control over himself. He seemed to have lost that battle because the next moment his arm shot towards you and before you could react his hand closed around your throat.

“You are mine.” He repeated, voice shaking with anger.

You tried to move away from him but his fingers were digging into the sides of your neck, giving you no chance to escape. Your air stream was completely blocked and your hands clutched around his, trying to open his grip but he was way too strong for you. As little shadows began to dance in front of your eyes you started to panic, your body demanding the air he was no longer able to get. As you let out a strangled noise, Ivar’s anger twisted face changed into a look of utter shock. It was as if he was waking up. He stared at your face, then down to his hand on your throat and very slowly his grip softened. He let go of you completely and quickly withdraw his hand as if he had burned it, his face now full of terror.

“Y/N, I….”

As the fear left your body the anger came back.

“Get out of here.” You hissed, your voice raspy, the words burning in your throat.

“Y/N…”

“OUT! NOW!”



You had made sure he had no chance of seeing you again until he left the next morning with his warriors. You knew that Ivar had moments like this, when his anger took over and he completely lost control, you had seen it happen more then once. But so far it had never happened with you. You had trusted him, felt completely save in his presence. You knew it was stupid but there was a feeling of betrayal inside you, you couldn’t get rid of. Of course you’ve had arguments before, the kind of arguments that made everyone else flee out of the room, not wanting to become casualties while you two released earthquakes and thunderstorms. But he had never hurt or really scared you before. And now you weren’t sure if you could forgive him.

But as the weeks passed you had to admit to yourself that you missed Ivar. You were worried about him, even more than usual. If something happened to him, your last conversation would have been the worst argument you ever had.

One evening you were sitting in your hut, taking out your braids and humming some melody that was stuck in your head as you heard a noise behind you. You turned in your chair and your eyes grew wide in surprise. Ivar was leaning against the door frame, supported by his crutches. You hadn’t heard him open the door. Your first impulse was to run to him and sink into his arms but you still  weren’t sure if you had forgiven him. It took you all your inner strength to keep any emotion from your face as you looked at him. He had a crooked grin on his face but as you didn’t react at all and just kept looking at him, you could see some insecurity grow in his eyes. After a moment though, he gained back control and his grin only grew wider.

“Are you not going to ask me in?”

“Where’s the point when you are in already?” You replied, struggling to keep your voice neutral. “I didn’t know you were back.”

“We just arrived about half an hour ago.” He slowly crossed the room and stopped in front of your bed. “Come here. I’ve missed you.”

Your eyes narrowed. You couldn’t believe he could be so ignorant. “Don’t think you can command me to do anything!”

His grin came back to his face, just a hint of evil arrogance in it. “But you want to. I can see it in your eyes.”

He was right. Although you were still mad at him your body longed for his. You wanted nothing more than to feel his skin on yours, to be as close to him as you could possibly get. It made you angry that he had such an effect on you. And it made you even angrier that he knew it and that he knew how to use it against you. You stood up so fast that your chair toppled over. You went over to Ivar and stood in front of him, eyes blazing with anger.

“Don’t you dare to tell me what I want.”

His grin didn’t fade one bit. “Not even when it’s that obvious? You want me, Y/N. There’s no point in denying that.”

You hated him so much that moment, mostly for being right. You somehow had to let your anger vent and pushed against his chest with both hands, harder than you had intended to. Ivar lost his balance and as he fell backwards he let go of his crutches and grabbed your arms, pulling you down with him. You heard the crutches clatter on the floor as you fell down on the bed. Ivar quickly rolled over so that he was on top of you.

“Get off me!” You hissed and pushed against his chest.

Ivar just smirked at you and caught your wrists, pinning them to the bed above your head. Then he moved his hips so that they rocked against yours. You could feel heat shoot through your body like liquid fire and fought hard to suppress a moan. But Ivar didn’t stop, he kept grinding his hips against yours and the need to feel more of him grew bigger and bigger inside your stomach, causing your breathing to come quick and heavy.

He chuckled at you. “See? So stop struggling and let me give you what you want anyways.”

You gave him an angry hiss but had to admit defeat. He must have seen it in your eyes and placed his lips on yours, kissing you hungrily while one of his hands slid under your dress and up your thigh. He let his fingers slowly travel across your folds and gave you an satisfied yet amused grin as he found you already soaking wet. Then his lips were back on yours and he slipped one finger between your folds. You moaned into his mouth as he started to move it up and down, hitting your clit with every move. His other hand found one of your breasts and started to knead it but he quickly became annoyed by the fabric getting in his way and he retrieved his hand from between your thighs. You whimpered at the loss and he smirked, clearly pleased with himself. For a moment he fiddled with the stings that held your dress together, but soon lost his patience and just ripped it apart. He hurried to slide the fabric down your body and then discarded it to the floor. He quickly undressed himself and you took a moment to cherish the view. You adored the way the toned muscles on his shoulders and his chest worked as he moved back up to you.

“You still want me to leave?” He asked with a cocky grin.

“No.” You admitted.

“What do you want me to do then?”

You smiled and lifted your head from the pillow to kiss him again but he pushed you back down, pinning you to the bed with his body. He rocked his hips again and now that you where both naked you could feel his hard cock rub against your thigh. You sighed, half in anticipation and half in defeat. You knew he wouldn’t stop until you said it out loud.

“I want you to fuck me.”

He gave you a nod as if to say See, it wasn’t that hard. Then he pushed your thighs apart to get better access. He was hovering over you, still pinning you to the bed, not allowing you much movement. He looked down at you and pushed himself inside you with one swift movement. You gasped at the exquisite sensation of him stretching your inner walls and your eyes flew shut. Ivar leaned down and bit your shoulder.

“Keep looking at me.” He cooed.

As you opened your eyes he started to move in and out of you. He didn’t bother to go slow and picked up his pace quite quickly, his trusts fast and hard. It didn’t take long until you squirmed in pleasure but he didn’t give you much room to move, his strong arms keeping you in place and reminding you who was is control. You wrapped your legs around his waist to allow him to go even deeper. As a reward he placed a sloppy kiss on your lips. As your pleasure increases you grind your hips against his, eager to meet his thrusts, while you loudly moan out his name. Ivar places one of his hands on the head of the bed to be able to push himself into your depths with even more force than before. With every thrust he hits a magical spot deep inside of you and you scream out his name so loud you probably wake up all your neighbors.

“You know you are mine.” Ivar growls without stopping his brilliant movements and in this moment you have neither the strength nor the will to disagree.

“Yes Ivar, I’m all yours.” You pant and smirks, even increasing his efforts to make you scream out his name.

You know you are close as you feel your whole body tense. And with one forceful thrust Ivar buries himself deep inside you and spills his hot liquids. The feel of Ivar’s seed filling you is enough to drive you over the edge. Waves of pleasure are rolling through you and your whole body is shaking. You ride out your orgasms together and then Ivar collapses onto you. For a long moment you just lie still. Both of you unable to move, bodies sticky with sweat.

As your breathing slows down a bit, Ivar rolls off of you and pulls you into his arms.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” He says, placing a kiss on your temple.

All you can manage is to hum in agreement, as you settle your head against his shoulder and close your eyes.

“Don’t fall asleep.” Ivar whispers into your ear. “I’m not done with you yet.”

Well, Shit. (A Voltron Fanficiton)

You remember when I said I can’t write fanficiton for shit? Well here we go! My best attempt! If you like it please let me know! I’m working on Chapter 2! Takes place after season 2, after finding Shiro (because Shiro will come back I will not accept anything else omg). 

CHAPTER 2 IS NOW HERE: http://violaswimmer.tumblr.com/post/156953215941/well-shit-a-voltron-fanficiton-chapter-2

AND SO IS CHAPTER 3:

http://violaswimmer.tumblr.com/post/157047198811/well-shit-a-voltron-fanfiction-chapter-3

ALSO CHAPTER 4:

http://violaswimmer.tumblr.com/post/157157013206/well-shit-a-voltron-fanfiction-chapter-4

AND CHAPTER 5:

http://violaswimmer.tumblr.com/post/157254073496/well-shit-a-voltron-fanfiction-chapter-5

AND CHAPTER 6:

http://violaswimmer.tumblr.com/post/157296304031/well-shit-a-voltron-fanfiction-chapter-6

AND CHAPTER 7!

http://violaswimmer.tumblr.com/post/157378879001/well-shit-a-voltron-fanfiction-chapter-7

CHAPTER 8:

http://violaswimmer.tumblr.com/post/157547824756/well-shit-a-voltron-fanfiction-chapter-8

CHAPTER 9:

http://violaswimmer.tumblr.com/post/157710839871/well-shit-a-voltron-fanfiction-chapter-9

CHAPTER 10:

http://violaswimmer.tumblr.com/post/157841715481/well-shit-a-voltron-fanficition-chapter-10

ALSO YOU CAN READ THE WHOLE SERIES ON ARCHIVE OF OUR OWN: http://archiveofourown.org/works/10025633

Lance and the Voltron Team go on a mission that goes horribly wrong. Lance is left behind to be interrogated by the mysterious Galra Prince Lotor. The team must rush to get him back at all costs. 


Chapter 1: Well, Great.

Lance awoke to the same face he had been seeing for a while now. That’s the thing about space, it’s hard to tell the time. But this Prince Lotor guy was making it even harder since he didn’t let Lance sleep more than an hour at a time, well he hoped it was an hour.

Team Voltron had been floating across the galaxy and found a distress beacon from a nearby planet. When they landed Allura asked the people what was wrong since they seemed pretty peachy for apparently being under distress. They lead the Voltron team to these large trees, like huge, way bigger than Earth’s trees. They entered a kind of makeshift elevator and when they reached the top they saw the problem.

A huge Galra ship hanging in the sky above them. No movement, nothing firing, just sitting there in the atmosphere above the planet. Obviously the people had panicked, sounded the distress beacon but the ship hadn’t done anything for a full week. The ship was making the people nervous so they left the beacon on hoping someone would come help them.

It was weird. Really weird. So of course they had to check it out. Team Voltron. Wooh. Anyway so eventually they went back to the castle. Allura and Coran did every scan they thought of and well they found no signs of life. Also weird. But they couldn’t destroy the ship, not from the castle. The shields were still up and they had to be disabled. So someone, namely Pidge had to get on the ship, disable the shield and get out so the castle could blast it out of the sky. Simple.

First of all Lance was the only one to think that maybe this wasn’t a great idea. Everyone else was convinced the scans worked, that no one was on the ship. Of course they went in still on alert but you know, things never go well for the paladin in blue. So Pidge was escorted by Lance and Keith while Hunk and Shiro waited with the castle just in case.

They entered the ship no problem. Not a big deal. Even got to the control panel without a hitch. But as soon as Pidge so much as touched the console things went to shit, real quick. When Pidge touched the console it set off some sort of alarm, out of nowhere Lance heard guards gathering outside the control room door. He and Keith readied their bayards then the comms went nuts. Shiro, Hunk and the castle had been surrounded by a Galra fleet. There was no escape. It had been a trap.

So Lance made a decision and a dangerous one. Without thinking he grabbed Keith and Pidge by the back of their uniforms and threw them over the edge of the control board, down a long drop where a vent lead to the outside of the ship. Pidge made a surprise squeak with Keith yelling Lance’s name. Lance turned and began to fire on the Galra soldiers. He knew what he had to do.

“I’m gonna blow the ship. Get as far away as you can, wormhole out if you have to!” He shouted over the comms.

There was muffled sounds of protest from Shiro and Hunk before the comms went dead completely. Great now they couldn’t communicate. The guards were piling through the door like mice escaping a hole. He had to hope that by now Pidge and Keith had made it far enough away, he couldn’t hold them any longer. So he turned his back, taking what cover he could from the tons of fire. He aimed at the crystal in front of him. He needed to break it. So he looked where he could fire. Where the crystal attached, he’s sure he can hit it. He aims, a shot from one of the guards hits him in the shoulder. Doesn’t matter. He breathes and fires. The shot hit sure and true and the crystal began to crack, sparks coming from it. Lance jumped into the cavern, going down the shaft to the vent. The crystal explodes.


Lance can’t hear anything, the explosion must have blown an ear drum. His back feels hot, spinning out of control into open air, jet pack not functioning. Great. Blue isn’t near enough to get to him. He had no idea how the castle was if everyone was okay. But the g-forces were causing his head to spin and he began to lose consciousness. His last thought was, I hope everyone gets out okay. Lance’s vision goes black as he continues to tumble towards the planet’s surface.


Everyone sees it, they hear it too. Keith and Pidge managed to get back to the castle in one piece right before the whole ship goes up. The explosion would have been spectacular if it wasn’t so frightening. Hunk and Shiro stopped fight just of a moment in sheer horror as the whole ship explodes. Lance was on that ship.

But the explosion works. The fleet takes damage, the explosion bigger than usual since they were fighting in the atmosphere rather than space. It takes out several ships. They have a chance to escape.

But everyone is frozen. Until they see it. A tiny figure tail spinning out of control in a blue and white suit.

“Lance!” Shiro shouts, trying to get to him before he hits the surface. But enemies were replacing the destroyed ones and he couldn’t get there in time.

Suddenly the ship that had hung back for the entire battle did something none of them expected. It sent out a beam of purple light and shined it on Lance’s out of control form. Lance’s body went limp, still and then slowly began to drag him toward the Galra ship.

Keith yelled, “They’re taking him!”

“We have to get him!” Pidge insisted. She hated the way he was limp, was he unconscious or worse?

They rushed to go get their lions. But Allura’s voice stopped them.

“YOU CANNOT!” She shouted.

Everyone paused even Shiro and Hunk who were still fighting outside the castle but they heard it over the comms. They had never heard Allura scream like that.

“We must wormhole out, we cannot win this fight.” She said this time barely a whisper.

There was a stunned silence before Keith of all people shouted.

“That’s LANCE out there! He just risked his life to give us a chance! We can’t abandon him!” Keith said, outraged.

Allura took in a breath.

“That is exactly why we need to go. Now. Lance bought us time. We can’t waste it.” She turned to them, tears in her eyes. Keith’s rage quickly melted.

“We will come back for him. We will find him and bring him home. However we need to be alive to do that. I’m certain we would not survive an assault on that ship. We must leave. Now.” Allura said tears streaking down her cheeks.

She wiped them the best she could and went to the comms telling Hunk and Shiro to come back. They were going to wormhole out. Reluctantly they came back, looking pale and worried. The ship made the wormhole, leaving the Galra and Lance behind.


Lance’s head felt heavy. His back felt worse, dry and stinging. He was being suspended against a wall. Arms, legs and torso bound by heavy thick clamps on the walls. Everything hurt. He slowly raised his head, moving it seemed to make it worse but he needed to see where he was. He knew he wasn’t in the castle but where exactly was he?

He blinked his eyes. Realizing quickly that one was having trouble seeing, which is a great thing to add to his ever growing list of problems. The room was dark with metal floors, walls and ceiling. Purple lights lined the walls in a linear pattern. He recognized that purple anywhere. He was on a Galra ship. Great.

He spent time looking over his injuries. He took a shot to the shoulder, he remembered that. But the rest must have been from the explosion or the free fall. His back was burnt, realizing the sensation. His left eye couldn’t see very well, vision was dark and tinted red. He could feel a cut over his eyebrow pulsing and swollen. His jaw felt fat and burned. The clamps were holding him to the wall a bit too tight and it seemed hard to draw a good breath. What a mess.

Soon the door flew open, showering the room in purple light. A tall man stepped in, long white hair and purple skin. Yellow almost glowing eyes looked at Lance with an interest that made his skin crawl. He was wearing armor, fancy armor. This guy was definitely in charge. Lance smirked, confidence couldn’t fail him now.

“Who are you? Zarkon’s replacement?” Lance asked, smug

The man took a moment and smiled.

“Yes, something like that.” He confirmed.

Lance was a little stunned, he honestly hadn’t expected him to answer.

“What, really?!” Lance asked, shocked.

The man smiled.

“My name is Prince Lotor, I am Zarkon’s son.” He took a step forward, examining Lance a little closer.

Once satisfied with being a creep he backed off.

”I must inform you that your fellow paladins have abandoned you.” Lotor said.

Lance breathed a small breath of relief. So they did get out. Good. That’s good, Lance thought although he couldn’t help the lump forming in his throat.

“Oh don’t worry, they’ll be back.” Lance said confidently.

Well he hoped anyway. Lotor paused and smile kept on his face.

“If that’s the case, how about we get started?”

Lance swallowed the lump was getting bigger. Two guards from the hallway came through the door.

“Bring it big ears.” Lance smirked.

Lotor’s face didn’t change, not even a twitch of anger. Now that Lance could see him up close, for a Galra he was pretty handsome. Nice hair. Although he seemed not all Galra. Lance wasn’t sure how he knew that but something about him read a little more of something else.

Lotor took a step closer, the guards following him closely as a flood of more people came into the room. Druids, that’s what their called. Cloaked with masks but the creepy witch lady wasn’t there which was a relief. But they shuffled in with metal floating boxes and began to take out what Lance had to guess was torture devices which wasn’t so great.

Lotor began to talk.

“You are the blue paladin of Voltron, riding the blue lion which also is a leg of Voltron. You were injured due to the explosion on the false ship over the planet of Neva. You escaped through a vent but the explosion was rather close to you. You were sent into the atmosphere were the gravity forced you unconscious. Our ship rescued you before you hit the planet. Once on board we treated some of your wounds so you did not die. But we left the majority that were not life threatening. Once you were brought aboard our ship the rest of the paladins used the explosion to escape us via wormhole.” Lotor smiled.

“This is the information we know. You see Zarkon was not one to share information with others. He unfortunately did not leave me any information about Voltron or its paladins. So I must gather the information myself.” He paused as a druid handed him something small and metallic.

The lump in Lance’s throat was growing bigger. He wanted to go home. He was scared. Terrified. But somewhere in the back of his mind which was flooded with terror rose something else. He remembered he protected the team. They were fine and were going to live for another day. Something in Lance clicked in place like a gear in his body was replaced with something stronger.

It didn’t matter. What happened to him didn’t matter. He must do everything he can to keep everyone safe. His emotions became steel and the breath that had been coming too quickly slowed. The fear was still there but that was natural the rest was made of unmoving steel.

Lance looked at Lotor his eyes narrowing and smirk plastered all over his face. He was not afraid.

“Why don’t you just get started then? Quit the chatter.” Lance snarled.

Lotor paused and blinked momentarily surprised. But then his smile grew across his face.

“Oh. I will have fun breaking you.”

So quick. Lance didn’t even register as Lotor took the small metal object and shoved it through Lance’s hand. Lance screamed.

Rules of Engagement (shiro x reader)

Rules of Engagement

Shiro x Reader

Imagine: Being the communications specialist with Shiro and Matt at the garrison.

Warning: Just a little making out ;)

AN: Hey guys! I hope you all like this one, let me know what you liked, or if you have any requests!

~~~

His lips felt like fire on her skin. There was no pulling away at this point, not that it even crossed her mind. The feeling of his body pressed against hers, his thigh positioned between her legs, how his fingers gripped her hips, all of it made it impossible to think of anything else, but how good it felt. This was definitely against protocol, the small portion of her brain that has retained its sanity thought in the back of her head. It all felt like a deram. And if it was she never wanted to wake up.

She and Shiro were on the same flight team at the garrison. He was the pilot, and she, his communications specialist. They were also accompanied by an engineer by the name of Matt Holt, she swore he was some kind of genius, it was the only explanation for how smart he was. They had all been friends, but with the hours spent in the flight simulator, the late night study sessions, the constant contact between them, they became much more than that. The connection between her and Shiro was unshakable, you would never see one without the other, inseparable. It wasn’t until their third year at the garrison, did they notice a change in their dynamic. They weren’t the only ones to notice this change, Matt knew something was going on between them, even if they didn’t know exactly what.

For weeks, it was nothing but chaos. Longing stares from across the room, lingering touches, constant blushing, all at the expense of Matt’s sanity. There was a time when the two of you could barely be in the same room, in fear that in your clumsy state, someone could get hurt. Matt didn’t mind at first, that is until your team failed the flight simulator, putting a permanent ‘F’ on his record. Shiro had gotten distracted by you, in the middle of the mission, when you cut your hand on a stray screw driver, causing Shiro to panic, and in the end, sent their team crashing to the ground in a blazing fireball. He’d had enough.

He told you both to meet him in room B26, to go over what went wrong, and finish the mission report on the simulation failure. Each of you feeling a different kind of shame in the failure of the basic sim, and each feeling that it was your fault things had gone south.

The next morning when you arrived at the room, you met with Shiro on the way, but neither of you could stand to meet the other’s gaze. Too embarrassed to think it was your lack to self control that had ruined the mission. Keeping your head bowed, you both entered the room, the first thing you noticed was how cold and damp it was, the lights were off making it hard to see exactly where you were. Shiro’s shins came in contact with a mop bucket, sending it skidding across the floor.

“What the- “ he began, his eyes adjusting enough to see the shelves that lined the walls, filled different cleaning supplies. “Is this… a Janitor’s closet?” thinking that they must have walked into the wrong room, Shiro turned to exit, only to have the door slammed in his face. Shocked, he rushed forward testing the doorknob, and finding it locked. Thinking it must have been an accident, he slammed his fist against the metal door trying to get the attention of whoever had closed the door.

“Hey! We are in here! The door is locked, can you open it?” he called, hoping they were still close enough to hear him. There was a moment of silence, before they heard a familiar voice reply.

“I’m not letting you out until you two work this out! I don’t know what is going on with you buys, but whatever ‘it’ is, fix it! I am not going to get another ‘F’ in that stupid simulator, just because you two are acting like lovesick teenagers!” Matt’s voice was filled with a mix of anger and frustration. There was another pause, followed by what Shiro assumed was a sigh. “I’ll be back in an hour.” he said more calmly before walking away, ignoring the protests from his teammates.

They spent the next 10 minutes searching for another way out, only finding 4 metal walls all lined with janitorial equipment, and an air vent, too small for either of them to fit through. Shiro was sure Matt had picked this room specifically for that reason, no way to escape. Giving up on that idea, they resorted to searching for a light switch, their eyes adjusting enough to see outlines in the darkness but not much else. The tension in the room was palpable, neither of them trusting themselves to address the elephant in the room, why they were locked in here in the first place, they both knew what Matt had said was true, but were not willing to address it as the problem it was. Until the pressure got the better of them.

“I’m sorry.” you both blurted out at the same time. Fumbling to recover, you turned to continue, but your foot caught on the bucket Shiro had knocked over earlier, sending you sprawling on the floor.

“(Y/N)! Are you okay?!” Shiro asked rushing over to where he had heard you fall. Unfortunately, instead of helping you, he stepped on your hand. You cried out again, cradling your hand to your chest as you pushed back against the wall, pulling your knees in. Shiro’s heart felt like it was in his throat, how had he managed to mess this up even more?

“Oh God, (Y/N) I’m so sorry!” he stammered his panic rising up. Standing where he was he ran a shaking hand through his hair. He didn’t dare move again, scared that he would accidentally hurt you again, instead he decided to speak, and once he started, he couldn’t stop, everything just poured out of his mouth.

“This is all my fault. I just really like you, and you’re so pretty, and smart, and when you smile it makes my stomach go crazy, and you’re laugh, oh god, your laugh! It’s the best thing I’ve ever heard! It’s just so hard for me to think when you’re around, my brain goes all fuzzy and I can’t focus on anything else. God, I should have known better, i should have tried harder to hide my feelings, or i should have transfered as soon as I realized I loved you, and, and now we are stuck in here, and you’re hurt and-” in the darkness, you made out his outline, and rose to your feet, equal parts shocked and thrilled to hear what he was saying. Reaching out you placed your hand on the side of his face, rendering him silent. You couldn’t see his face, and you prayed he couldn’t see yours, you could feel your cheeks reddening as you drew closer. He could feel you coming closer, your hand gliding over his face, your fingertips tracing the outline of his lips. You felt his warm breath against your fingers, as you moved your hand to the base of his neck, standing on your toes. You hesitated, your lips stopping just shy of his.

Swallowing his nerves, Shiro closed the remaining distance, capturing your lips with his. In that moment it was like a fire was lit between you. His hands were on you in an instant, pulling you closer as his mouth moved against yours. Pressing forward, you stumbled back, your shoulders hitting the metal walls of the room hard. Shiro only paused for a moment before he was on you again, pinning your body to the wall with his own. His fingers gripped your sides, pawing at the material of your uniform. Pressing closer, he fit himself against you, a leg between yours, his hips against yours, like fitting puzzle pieces together. His lips pulled away from yours, only to attach to the exposed skin on your neck. He groaned into the hollow of your neck, as you raked your fingers through his hair, pulling on it slightly.

The heat between you continued to grow, and the once cold room felt like a furnace. So consumed in the moment, you both failed to notice the door to the room slide open. Matt caught site of the two of you, and paused for just a moment, as his mind registered the situation. Shaking his head, he crossed his arms over his chest, before clearing his throat. And just as quickly as it had started, the trance was broken. Shiro tore his body away from yours, his hair was sticking up in odd directions from where you fingers had mused it. While you pushed yourself off the wall, trying to stop your knees from shaking, and straighten your uniform at the same time, the small marks on your neck beginning to form. Both of your lips were swollen, and your faces were red, and in Matt’s opinion, you both looked thoroughly kissed. An amused smile pulled at Matt’s lips as he watched the two of you fumble to compose yourselves. No one spoke for a long moment, until finally, Matt broke the ice.

“Well,” he began, his voice eerily calm. “I can’t say that I didn’t see this coming, cause I did, and for that reason, I planned ahead. Because if ‘this’” he gestured between the two of you quirking an eyebrow. “Is going to happen, there need to be some ground rules.” stepping forward, he reached into his bag and pulled out a large 3 ring binder, shoving it into Shiro’s chest, who caught it quickly, looking down at the cover.

“‘Rules and guidelines of dating a teammate’” he read aloud, lifting his eyes questioningly to Matt.

“Volume 1?” you read over Shiro’s arm. “How many volumes are there?” you asked watching Shiro flip through the pages, each filled with words, and some having charts and pictures… this was obviously something Matt had put time into, and it definitely took longer than the hour they had been in there.

“There are 2 others back in my room, but I haven’t finished editing them.” Matt answered calmly. You nearly choked, and Shiro swallowed thickly, his eyes wide. Indifferent, Matt continued. “Also, there will be a quiz, so I would suggest going on a ‘study date’ instead of making out in a janitor’s closet.” you heaved a sigh, before turning your eyes to Shiro, a smile pulled at you lips, despite the obvious dislike of the situation.

“I’m free tonight.” you said, Shiro’s heart skipped a beat. He would read 50 of Matt’s ridiculous rule books, if it meant he got to see you smile like that again.

Mrs Fluffybottom

Prompt:  omg bruh. Imagine Prinxiety where Virgil wants to make something for Roman, but gets super self conscious about it cause Roman’s CREATIVITY for petes sake, and of course it’ll look dumb in comparison to what Roman can make.  OH this is kinda sad but what if something accidentally happened to Ms. Fluffybottom and Roman is devastated, so Verge tries to stitch him a stuffed bunny? X’D ~ @this-is-ske

Pairing: Prinxiety (platonic or romantic)

General Taglist: @thebeautyofthomas @frustratedwaffle @killerfangirl3 @pippa-frost @extreme-doodles @fandomsofrandom @here-to-vent @i-prayed-to-you-cas @pro-fangirls-unsocial-life

cw: Self-loathing, negative self-talk, vivid imagery of a destroyed doll, cursing, headaches, mostly fluff

The absolute worst part about the whole mess was that Princey hadn’t even been angry

Anger, Virgil could’ve handled. If Roman had yelled, or raged at him, or otherwise reacted in the way Virgil had feared, he would at least have been expecting it. It would have made sense. Especially after all the pomp and circumstance with which he’d loaned the doll to Virgil in the first place–and the solemn promise he’d extracted from Virgil to take care good of her. 

Not that he’d done it on purpose, of course. He was just…Anxiety. Ruining things was what he did

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anonymous asked:

Sooooooo I was thinking what would Shiro do if his s/o showed up to party in a sexy black dress just to get him back for spending so much time with Voltron P.s I love your Blog!

I like the way you think! I do love me some petty revenge.

Originally posted by lanceville


“Hey Shiro! What are you up to today? Cause I was thinking–”

“I’m sorry, Y/N, I need to go over Voltron’s last battle and come up with some sort of game plan,” Shiro sighs and glowers at the screen in his hand, “We should have taken that Robeast out before it had that chance to knock us down. Maybe if I had had Lance and Hunk move us–” He’s talking more to himself now so you just cluck your tongue and walk away. Maybe next time.


You paced back and forth on the observation deck, growing increasingly agitated with every slowly passing minute. Seriously? He’s thirty minutes late! Where the hell was your boyfriend?!

You stop and loudly vent your frustration before storming storming towards the training deck. God help Shiro if he’s still training during date night because oh…he’s not here. None of the paladins are. So, clearly they finished? 

You sigh and head towards the rooms. You can hear various showers running and the thought of scaring the crap out of Shiro while he’s showering brings a skip to your step. But when Shiro’s door opens, you can see him laying face first in bed with his armor still on. You deflate and let his door shut on its own. If he’s tired enough to sleep in his armor then there’s no point in waking him. 


And so it keeps happening. Every time you think you finally get Shiro on his own he either has Voltron related business, extra training, or is passed out in places he shouldn’t be. It’s frustrating. It’s vexing. It’s starting to piss you off

Of course, you don’t think you’re more important than defending the universe from evil purple aliens but dammit, it hurts to be pushed aside so easily! 

But tonight…oh-hoho, tonight you were going to get back at the Black Paladin. 

You see, Allura, Coran, and Shiro have been in negotiations for the last week or so with the twin High Priestesses of Il’rea, who have long been fighting the Galra in their own quadrant of space. They’ve been highly successful; due to the combined power of Lady Arcadia’s tactics and Lady Selena’s bloodlust and frankly, Team Voltron needed help from people like them if there was any hope to defeat Prince Lotor. 

Tonight, the whole planet was celebrating the new alliance in Voltron’s honor with a huge party. Food, music, pretty girls, pretty guys (just pretty people in general), and displays of power and magic promised to be a fun night.

But there was a small problem. The problem was, as Lance put it: “Those Priestesses are total babes! They could literally crack my skull between their thighs and I would die happy.” Whether he was on duty or not, Shiro was spending a lot of time with beautiful women that were not you and tonight was the night you were going to drag his attention back, Voltron and the Alliance be damned. Especially since it’s been a good two weeks since you two had some true alone time. 

You smiled triumphantly at the sexy little black number hanging on the back of your door, ‘Watch Shiro ignore this.’


Shiro missed you. God, he missed you so much it started to hurt and the guilt he was carrying about temporarily pushing you aside to focus on Voltron was starting to haunt his nightmares. He was determined to fix it tonight. He was going to apologize for being a shit boyfriend, apologize for overworking himself, and apologize for making the love of his life feel like she no longer mattered to him. 

Keith had made it a point to find Shiro tell him that last little tidbit last night. It hurt. It hurt so bad Shiro actually spent most of the night crying and beating himself up mentally for that one. He royally fucked up, and he knew it.

So when the shuttle carrying you and the Paladins arrived, his heart began racing and Shiro felt the telltale fluttering in his stomach that told him he was nervous. But there were only four bodies on that shuttle and none of them yours. Concerned, Shiro pulled Keith aside to speak to him in a low whisper, “Hey, Keith. Wh-where’s Y/N? Isn’t she coming?”

Keith pursed his lips and glared. Shiro dropped his hand from Keith’s arm and took a step back, caught off guard by the uncharacteristic hostility in his friend’s eyes. He waits and Keith looks away before clearing his throat, “She’s not coming. She said she has a migraine so she’s going to take advantage of a silent castle and sleep it off. She doesn’t want you there.” He walks away with a final glare, making sure to clip his shoulder against Shiro’s. 

Shiro rubs his shoulder and glances towards the other paladins. He blanches as they quickly turn away to hide their glares. Crestfallen, Shiro swallows the lump in his throat and blinks back the tears that threaten to spill. He has a job to do tonight so he steels himself and turns around, stepping out of Takashi Shirogane - the failing boyfriend, and into Shiro - the Black Paladin and Leader of Voltron. 

He doesn’t see Lance and Hunk sharing concerned glances as they wonder if they took their glares too far or Pidge and Keith giving each other a thumbs up. He also misses you slipping out of your hiding place in the pod and moving to the next hiding place, shoes in hand. Allura, who has been your silent partner in tonight’s shenanigans, gives you a wink as she steps in front of your new spot, further hiding you. Bless her. She’s just as petty as you are.


Parties.

There was a time in his life that Shiro once enjoyed a good party and the chance to get shit-faced drunk without a care in the world. Now his anxiety was acting up, telling him there were too many people, too many points of entry, too many chances for an assassin to sneak in, this is was just another chance to get Lance blow–no. No. He needs to stop. There’s no point in thinking like that.

God, he needed a drink.

Luckily, Il’rea has alcohol, or something like it, and Shiro grabs a glass from a passing waiter and downs it in one gulp. Much better.

He grabbed another drink with every intention of downing that one too but he was stopped when he saw you flitting through the crowd. But it couldn’t be you, you were in the castle. Right?

He drops the glass from his mouth and moves to follow what he swears was you. His searching is fruitless and Shiro gives it up as a bad job only a few minutes later. He was looking for a black dress in a sea of black and white with little variation. Why couldn’t the woman have been wearing a red dress? That would be so much easier!

Like Allura! Shiro could make her out easily since her dress started as a bright yellow and faded to a soft orange. She looked like an Earth sunset was easily the brightest person in the room. Shiro smiled as she laughed at some aristocrat’s joke, happy to finally see her so carefree after the stressful week they had. He wished he could be like that.

He watched for a few more moments and was about to turn away when Allura hooked her arm through the arms of another woman and they turned as one to move together. His heart stopped for a split second because he knows that face. He knows that face.

Where Allura was as radiant as the sun, there you were, looking like the human embodiment of the night. Your hair was pulled up and artfully messy, lips painted a deep purple to match purple eye shadow, the front of your black gown draped over you to deeply expose your breasts and Shiro swallowed when he saw the long beautiful silver necklace he found for you sitting innocently on your chest. The last time he saw it he was watching it shimmer and shine as it moved with every thrust of his hips against yours.

You looked like Sin. And when your eyes locked Shiro swore then and there to have you underneath him before the night was over. He continued watching with hungry eyes as Allura twirled you two around and revealed the (pretty much non-existent) back of your dress and he changed it to within the hour. The wink you gave him over the shoulder as you disappeared into the crowd gave him the fuel he needed.

But it wasn’t that easy. Every time he got close to you, Hunk or Lance would whisk you away for a dance and pass you off to someone high ranking enough in the Il’rean hierarchy that Shiro knew it would cause tension if he just cut in, so he was forced to wait. 

And wait.

 And wait. Prowling like a panther at the edge of the dancing crowd, waiting for his chance to snatch you up.

Eventually there was a lull in the music and Shiro used it to beeline towards you, determined to have you in his arms and screaming his name in one of the smaller rooms next door. But he was stopped by Keith shoving a plate of food in his hands with a cheeky grin. “You haven’t eaten all night. Here. It’s delicious.”

“I-Uh…What? Oh,” he looked down at the plate just long enough to loose you in the crowd again and he cursed his luck. And his crew, the shits. He could spy Pidge up on the balcony, no doubt keeping an eye on the situation and instructing each of the Paladins to intercept him every time he got too close. He should have known they’d be in on this. They do like to stir up trouble. 

Well. There would be no getting to you this way. Not with Pidge directing them. And he couldn’t just run up there like a psychopath and stop her. She’d see him. He popped some of the food Keith brought him into his mouth and saluted Pidge. If this was his punishment, it was his punishment. But he could spoil their fun by giving in. His own private revenge on his crew for their mutiny.


“Surprise, surprise. You didn’t come for me,” you sigh as you lean against the balcony entryway. Shiro turns towards you with a bittersweet smile, “Would you have let me?” He leans against the balcony, doing his best to appear nonchalant even though his heart was hammering in his chest because there you are! His beautiful girlfriend! The light of his life! The woman he would willingly risk life and limb for! Dear god, he could see how pissed you were.

You fake thinking for a moment, making sure to bring a finger to your lips, just to enjoy the way Shiro’s eyes darken at such an innocent gesture. “No, not really. I was enjoying myself soooo much. I didn’t want to distract myself with my significant other.” Your pointed glare hits home and Shiro drops his gaze to the floor. You do nothing but wait, letting his shame settle in.

You soften as his shoulders drop and he slowly walks towards you, frightened that with each step closer he moves, you will bolt. You both release the breaths you didn’t know you were holding as Shiro slowly brings his forehead to yours. His large hands feel so right as snakes them around your waist and just holds you, taking a moment just to savor you in his arms before he can gather the courage to speak. 

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean to push you away. I didn’t intend to make you feel like you don’t matter to me, because you do. You are–I love you,” you gasp at his confession and the urge to scream ‘I love you too!’ is almost to much to bear but Shiro isn’t done talking, so you bite your tongue. Literally. “I made a mistake. I need to try harder. I will try harder. For you and Voltron.” 

The kiss he gives you is so tender and so sweet it nearly brings tears to your eyes. You pull him down for another harder kiss as he pulls away, wrapping your arms around his neck for leverage before pulling away enough to mumble against his lips, “You beautiful idiot. I love you so much but you’re too hard on yourself. I just…I missed you.”

You buried yourself into Shiro’s chest and squeezed him tight, enjoying the way his arms tightened against you and the gentle way he nuzzles into your hair. He was so warm and comforting and you couldn’t believe that you had gone nearly two weeks without this. These were the moments you lived for: domesticity in a universe at war.

“I’m going to fuck you in that dress the moment we get back to the castle,” his voice is low and gravely in your ear and you shivered. Moment ruined. 

“I’ve had to watch you prance around in that sorry excuse for a dress all night. Did you even see how much people wanted you?” A moan escapes as Shiro mouths directly against your ear and he moves his cool metal hand up your exposed back. You can feel his half-hard erection against your hip and he grins wickedly against your ear as he lightly rocks against you, “You naughty thing, I’m going to–”

“Sorry to interrupt,” you and Shiro jerk apart as Lady Arcadia glides by, her sister in tow, “but might I trouble you to use one of the rooms down the hall? As lovely as public displays of affection are, surely you two would enjoy privacy?” They quirk twin eyebrows and smirk, gliding away the way they came. 

You adjust your dress and hair, thankful that you were interrupted before anything else started. You share a bashful look with Shiro and clasp hands before re-joining the party; putting a pause on your libidos to play ambassadors. There would be time to play later tonight.

Analysis of skills: Pidge

Pidge is an amazing character with a lot of depth and untouched potential and here are some of my thoughts about her. It’s a pretty long post so everything is under the cut! 

Allura / Coran / Shiro / Keith / Lance / Hunk

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2

A/N: Request from anon. Something like this was going through my head for a while now. I love how readers just read my mind sometimes. Enjoy, everyone!

Words: 1984
Warnings: mental breakdown, mentions of parent death

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motherapricot  asked:

I know you don't normally answer questions, or at least I haven't seen to many. But I was curious as to your stance on historical figures that were queer but not of moral standing. Ex. Alexander Hamilton was most likely bisexual or something of that configuration, but was also a slave owner. I see a lot of lgbt+ historical icons, who are "Disqualified" because of something they did. I was just wondering how you felt about it (1/2)

(2/2) Personally, I think their being a lgbt+ historical figure should be acknowledged, but so should their downfalls so they won’t become an icon per se. I’m not really too sure how to verbalize my thoughts, but I hope that was somewhat coherent. And I’m just wondering what you as queer historians have to say on the matter

First I want to say that you did a great job of verbalizing your thoughts and I really appreciate you coming to our project to discuss this because we do have some thoughts and this is an interesting topic overall. 

We discussed this briefly in our most recent article Annemarie Schwarzenbach

In discussing her life we note this concept briefly saying: 

“We know there have been queer people who are horrible, in fact we need to look no further than one generation above Annemarie herself. Her mother, a queer woman who actively supported Nazi’s. Queer history is not clean. It is not simple, or easy, or always on the right side of the battle. Like all of history it is complex.”

And today actually I saw someone do the exact thing you were talking about in a post saying:

“can we all just pretend james buchanan wasn’t gay, i don’t want him”

So this is a real thing, and it is actually something we have dealt with a lot in our writing. In the post above I don’t think the person was seriously saying that we should pretend this historical figure isn’t queer, I believe from context and tone it is probably just a person who is venting and wants their community to be full of unproblematic people. 

But that very idea, even in a joking tone, is harmful and we should unpack it and want to thank you for giving us the opportunity to do so. 

So to begin, this phenomenon has many origins but one of the big ones is probably peoples desire to turn history into a series of Great Men. And while this theory is not directly discussing what we are about to, we believe it to be a factor in the problem. Because in the end both of these problems find their roots in attempts to simplify complex concepts/events/people in history. 

We want history to be easy, we want to look at a person and say “this person is Bad and I am in no way connected to them because I am Not Bad” but that isn’t what history is. 

History is endlessly complex, confusing, and at times frustrating. And these are often seen as “bad” emotions so we try to squish history down into more bite sized concepts so we don’t have to feel them. Make history into this battle between good and evil, where everything is simple and easily understood. 

So when people look into the history of a community, they use its members to “prove” whether the community was good or bad. Which leads to communities trying to repress the more nasty parts of their history. 

And Making Queer History is not immune to this. In fact it is something I often think about, and have in many cases failed in. I am a writer, and I do my best writing when I care about the people/subject I am discussing. So I am more likely to choose to write about someone I like than someone I don’t. 

An example of this happened last week actually. I had been thinking about this exact concept and to attempt to stop it from affecting our project too much I tried to write about Salvador Dali. A man from history I hate. And I cried.

Legitimately, I got so mad while researching this man I began crying, and I ended up writing about someone else. 

And while I did not actively deny that Salvador Dali was queer, I did in a small way contribute to the problem that leads people to do that kind of thing. 

We want to see the good side of a community we are a part of because if the community isn’t perfect our minds try to simplify that into the community is bad. So many people either react by deciding the community is bad, or by rejecting the person who stops the community from being perfect from the community, and neither of those responses are healthy. 

So yes, you are right. Denying that the “bad people” in history could have also been queer, is not accurate or good for the community as a whole. It is denying facts, it is removing nuance, and it is damaging how we view ourselves as a community.

Because when we remove these people from our history we absolve ourselves of their problems. In the case of Alexander Hamilton, we remove a racist man from our communities history because we don’t want to think about how our community has had (and still has) a problem with racism.

I like to say that just because there have been queer people who have done bad things in history, does not mean that being queer is what made them bad. But it also goes the other way, just because queer people have done amazing things in history, does not mean that we are as a whole an amazing community.

We have problems that we need to address from our history that have carried on into our present, and pretending they were not a part of our history is just another way of denying they could be a part of our present. So we need to look at these “bad people”, so we can address the problems that we had, and how we in our community can try to prevent those problems in the future.

The queer community is not inherently good or bad, because the queer community is made up of people, and each person has negative aspects and positive aspects that they bring to the table. And the community is just in the end a jumble of all of these positive and negative aspects. And the sooner we acknowledge that the sooner we can move to the next step making an environment that supports change and growth with education, and positive and negative reinforcement, instead of just throwing every person who does something wrong out of the community. 

There have been great people in our community, and there have been horrible people, and we need to look at people on either side of the spectrum, and in the middle. Because history is endlessly complex, confusing, and at times frustrating, but that is a good thing because humans are too.