but idk...didn't feel it


You know, Augustus Caesar once presided over the longest period of peace and prosperity the world has ever known. It was called the Pax Romana. Perhaps one day, this will be known as the Pax Penguina.

He doesn’t even say “I’m home.”
He slips out of his shoes, drops his bag in the hallway - Tooru looks up from the couch at the sound, to find Hajime standing in the doorway.
But then he sees his face, sees the exhaustion, how lost and drained he looks, and he abandons words.
He’s crossed the room in three strides, reaching for Hajime’s wrists. He shudders at the contact, and almost immediately there’s tears building in his eyes.
Oh, today must have been rough.
Tooru closes the distance without hesitation, fitting Hajime against his chest, tucking his head into the crook of his neck so he can breathe in Tooru’s scent.
Hajime doesn’t move, for a moment, even as Tooru’s arms come up around him - and then he sags, the rest of his energy draining out as reality seems to settle in.
He’s home. He’s made it through another day.
Tooru knows that sometimes everything feels too hard - but he also knows how to make it better.
The first step - and the one Tooru struggles with most - is letting Hajime cry.
There’s something inherantly painful about seeing him fall apart, and even though he knows it’s necessary, that doesn’t make it any easier to watch. He wants to shower Hajime in affection, wants to whisper that it’ll be okay, that he’s here, that they’ve got each other - but that’s not what he needs right now.
So instead, Tooru just holds on.
He guides them back to the couch, letting Hajime curl up in his lap and finally, finally bring his arms up as well, to rest around Tooru’s waist.
Tooru leans in and kisses Hajime’s forehead, swallowing all the words he wants to say, saving them for later.
Not now. Because the first step to healing is letting him break, letting him get it all out, without pretty words or reassurances.
Acknowledge. Accept. Fix.
“I love you,” Tooru whispers. It slips out before he can stop it, because the sounds, oh, the sounds Hajime makes when he cries are heartbreaking and he can’t-
“T-tooru,” Hajime gasps, breath catching on the word, fingers curling into fists over his soft sweater.
And Tooru squeezes back, pressing kisses to Hajime’s hair as he holds on, careful but determined.
Because maybe things aren’t okay right now.
But they will be.


I can’t focus on the mission if I’m worried about protecting Rose. Explain: I’m seeing Daniel Sousa but I’m hearing Jack Thompson.

i haven’t mentally fleshed this out fully yet, but seeing the scene where joe shaves barry hit hard. they showed a parent having to step back into the role of caretaker for their adult disabled child, a situation never shown on television as such a poignant moment.

lekycauldron  asked:

Hi, I already send this prompt but idk if it got eaten or if you didn't feel like writing it ignore this. The prompt was Obi's reaction to Ahsoka leaving the Order. In TCW we saw how this affected Anakin but not Obi. Maybe he questioned his views of the Order or maybe he help her without anyone knowing it?

“I thought I’d find you here.” Obi-Wan offered quietly, moving to the couch and sitting down slowly. “Padme has always been fond of you.” He continued, staring at the togruta who continued staring at her own knees.

At this point Obi-Wan wouldn’t be surprised if the young woman yelled at him. “…I’m sorry.” He whispered. “I tried to talk the rest of the council out of it all, that you couldn’t have…” He sighed and rested his elbows on his knees and his chin on his hands. “…How do you feel?”

“How do you think?” Ahsoka whispered, sounding empty.

“If I’d wager a guess on confused, betrayed, sad and kind of relieved.” Obi-Wan hummed, staring at the window. “That’s what I felt when I left the Order at least.”

That got her to look at him, blue eyes wide in surprise and shock.

It got a small smile out of Obi-Wan. “Yes, I left the Order once…I was…fourteen and thought I was doing the right thing. I think it was the right thing at least even if no one else thought so. I got to come back though.” He hummed.

Ahsoka swallowed. “…Did I do the right thing?”

The Jedi master sighed then sat up, looking at her. “I think you did. I think you did the right thing by you. No one listened to you and you were set on trial that could have…” His lips pinched. “… The very least the Council should have done for you is to give you the benefit of a doubt.”

“…Why didn’t you?” She whispered, staring at him.

“I don’t know. I asked Mace and he told me that if I couldn’t keep my attachment out of the Council’s affairs, then I should consider not sitting on it.” Obi-Wan smiled bleakly and Ahsoka startled at that, staring at him even more. “Yes he surprised me too. Personally I think it was pressure from the Senate.” He looked away, shoulders slumping.

She shifted then covered her face. “But I was…I was one of the order. I do-”

“I don’t know what to tell you Ahsoka. Nothing I say will make what happened any better or easier.” Obi-Wan reached out and put his hand on her shoulder.

Then he breathed out in surprise as she threw herself into his arms, wrapping his arms around the slender young woman. “Oh Ahsoka. My poor padawan.” He whispered, hearing her hiccup against his shoulder. “Its okay, its okay. It will be okay.” He rocked her slowly, feeling his heart break.

“And Barris…” She hiccuped harder, clinging to the mans tunic as the arms held her tight.

“I know, I know, she was your friend.” He continued rocking her. “Its okay, you can cry all you want.”

She didn’t exactly wail but a terrible noise of sadness and confusion was sobbed into his tunic, wetting it thoroughly, though Obi-Wan did not care. He just held her, letting her work through her tears.

Eventually she calmed down enough to sniff and lean back, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hands.

“…Do you know what you’re going to do?” Obi-Wan whispered, knowing she was bound to have a headache from the crying. “Where you’re going?”

“N-No. Not really…Padme…Padme offered me a place on Naboo.” She sniffed then accepted the handkerchief Obi-Wan offered her, wiping her face properly and blowing her nose. “…Sorry.”

“Its just cloth Ahsoka, it can be cleaned or replaced.” The copper haired master murmured before reaching out, cupping the back of her head and bringing her head forward until they could rest their foreheads together, damp blue meeting deep green, Obi-Wan’s fingers gently petting her montrals before he opened his Force shields for her, gently inviting her to find peace with him.

Ahsoka grasped it with all she was, soaking in the comfort of care, worry, sadness and protectiveness that was the older man.

“…Whatever you need Ahsoka, never hesitate to ask. I’ll always help you if you just ask.” He whispered, fingers stilling on her montrals.

She swallowed. “Tell Anakin…no…no if anyone saying anything to him it should come from me.” She breathed out. “…I think…I think I’ll stay here for a while…but thank you Obi-Wan.” She whispered, closing her eyes.

Obi-Wan just made a soft noise and closed his eyes too, letting her seek comfort with him for the precious moments they were together.

sunagakurepuppetbrigade  asked:

19 for Klance please :)

“The paint’s supposed to go where?” Keith asked incredulously. 

Lance gave an evil grin, tossing the balloon in his hand into the air and catching it smoothly. “On your face, Mullet. And mine. And Hunk’s and Pidge’s and Shiro’s. Now are you done asking questions?”

Keith peered around the barricade he and Lance were hidden behind, looking over to where Pidge, Hunk, and Shiro were clustered together whispering. “I…one more. Why is it just the two of us against the three of them?”

Lance rolled his eyes. “Cause Coran and Allura are lame. But it’s fine; we make a good team together. Now are you ready to kick their collective asses?”

Keith let a smile slide across his face, glancing back at Lance and shaking his head ever so slightly. “Why not?”

“You take charge, I’ll flank?”

“As per the usual.”

They fist bumped, and then Lance whooped loudly and jumped into the air, chucking the blue balloon in his hand with no warning. It splattered across Shiro’s chest and the room went dead silent, everyone staring at the smattering of azure paint. 

“Oh it is ON!” Pidge shrieked. 

Within seconds, balloons of the Voltron colors were flying back and forth across the room, red mixing with yellow and making orange and blue with red and green with yellow. It was an all out rainbow, and frankly it was glorious, if Lance had anything to say about it. 

It all changed, however, when Keith took a direct hit to the face and was flung backwards to the floor. Lance gasped and dropped to his knees next to him, the balloons still flying over his head. 

“Keith!” he yelped a little dramatically. “No! How could this happen?”

“You didn’t cover me,” Keith snorted, wiping some of the green paint off his face cause of course Pidge would go for a head shot. 

Lance flung a hand over his eyes. “Oh, you’re right! I’m the worst! And now you’re gonna DIE!”

Keith laughed and pushed himself upwards, shaking his head to get some of the excess paint out. “Lance, I’m fine. Now can we shoot back please? I’d like to murder Pidge, if that’s cool with you.”

Lance grinned cheekily and reached behind him, grabbing a red balloon and handing it over. Paint flecked his cheeks and nose and mouth, stretching as he smiled, and Keith took the balloon with a smirk. “She’s gonna eat it,” he declared. 

“Oh she better.”

Pidge never had a chance. 

Y'all mind if I