dangerous oceans


» A Collection of Near-Death Experiences by somethingaboutamoose

Keith was twelve years old when he was involved in a car accident with his family. After the near-death experience, Keith has found out something about himself: He can’t die.

» all we have to do by aknightley

Keith gets hurt during a mission, and Lance is not sure how to handle that.

» between stars by NotRover

After years of fighting on opposite sides of the war, Lance and Keith meet once again on the battlefield.

» blue, blue eyes by albino_yeti

What would you do
if you ever knew
the man you desperately love
never thinks the same of you?

» Bottom Of The Ninth by xfulcrumx

Lance is the new pitcher for The Lions. Coran’s goal for the season is to make their rival team, The Galrans, beg for mercy. Somewhere along the way, Klance happens.

» Carpe Diems and Chrysanthemums by Gigapoodle

After years of rivalry, bitter acquaintanceship, and eventual friendship, the realization slaps Lance hard, hard enough to settle into his lungs and sap his life away. It’s when he coughs up a petal that Lance realizes just how far gone he is.

» close to you by solllys

they’re in love with each other; that’s how these things go

» Confinement Of Pain by NightcoreFairy

“During the day we were mere rivals.”

“And during the night?”

“During the night, he was the love of my life.”

» Control by ver_ironica

Keith is desperate to keep up appearances, but things are getting harder. He has to lead Voltron while keeping himself in check. His control is reaching the breaking point, and there may be no turning back.

» Crowd Pleaser by WhatTheBodyGraspsNot

It’s a male strip club, which means Keith’s never short of entertainment during working hours - especially when Blue Rider takes the stage. Because Blue’s hot - definitely talented - and definitely taking an interest in Keith.

» excelsior by warmth

“Onward and upward,” Lance says. “to greater glory.”

» Going Under by sun_stricken

Lance takes a dangerous spill in the ocean and is saved by none other than a mermaid with weird hair

» Hershey’s Kisses by EnglishCivilWar

In which Keith is sad, and Lance tries to cook.

» i think you’re fine you really blow my mind by keithxlance

Five times Lance uses pick-up lines and one time Keith decides to try it out as well.

» I Watched the Sky and the Stars Reminded Me of You by beckkai

“What’s up with you?”

“Nothing. I’m just.” He looked back at the rising moon and expanse of sky before setting Keith with a soft glare,”Nothing.”

» Like Fire by PastelClark

By circumstance and happenstance, Red finds herself in situations requiring she change paladins twice in her life

» Moonset Deep by MilkTeaMiku

All his life he’d been told to make sure he was never seen – it was what all the children were taught from the moment they were born. Never let a human see you, never fall in love with a human, and most importantly, never kiss one.

» Never Let Me Go by doodlenauts

When the music stops, he meets him halfway - even when they’re thousands of millions of miles apart.

» Nothing Like the Rain When You’re In Outer Space by Wayward_child

Lance misses the rain.

» oblivious to what made you so obvious by altruisticallura

He looked up suddenly, as if he could feel Lance’s eyes on him, and gave a small grin. Lance was a goner.

» Panacea (A Cure for Love) by RowenaMacLeod

Keith contracts an alien disease that wipes your mind of the one you love.

» Reach out for you (break these walls) by Utsukushin

Keith is trying to make himself smaller, to bury his head deeper in his knees, and Lance’s heart freezes in his chest. 

» solace in the thrum of your heart by laidellennt

Lance cannot find solace in the stars.

» Somebody Left The Gate Open by lordbatty

Lance always knew he would have to be the one to pick Keith back up. And he’d do it again in a heartbeat.

» suave and charming as heck by Lance_WhyUAlwaysLion

Lance is neither suave nor charming. Or, Lance thinks he’s a pro at flirting until suddenly, he’s the one getting flirted with.

» Sung Me Moonstruck by sciencefictioness

Something hungry within him that was only sated by the sound of Lance’s voice, or the sight of those too deep eyes cutting sideways to look at him. Something wild that only calmed when he was near.

Something broken in Keith that was held together with that crooked grin.

» symbolization by bolbessa

Keith didn’t really do flowers. He just couldn’t take care of them, and to be completely honest, he didn’t see the point.

» teeth and all by viscrael

“Do you want to kiss someone?”

Keith almost drops his Bayard.

» the sea pronounces something by legendarydesvender

AU where Keith is a sailor and Lance is the siren trying to drown him.

» The Whirling Ways Of Stars That Pass by mandaloore

“There,” he spoke in an almost-whisper, tracing the outline of the imaginary constellation like a child following a dot-to-dot illustration. Keith watched his movements from his peripheral vision, hoping that Lance was too preoccupied to notice the rapid beating of his heart. “Can you see it now?”

» Waves Amongst Stardust by Resamille

The flutter of Lance’s heart is almost lost to the homesickness pounding through his veins.

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I appreciate that climate change gets a lot of attention (possibly because it has the potential to have the highest economic costs if left unchecked) but it is my duty to remind everyone that the biggest threat to wildlife and ecosystems today is habitat loss. Not climate change. Not trophy hunting. Not even pollution–though a habitat can become so degraded from pollution that it becomes unusable.

The very best way to curb global destruction of habitat is to implement large-scale changes to our development patterns, energy production, and agricultural system. So be sure to support those efforts politically. You can also support sustainable, multi-use development in your communities(many municipalities talk about community-wide projects at city counsel meetings!). Live densely. Eat less meat. Call out self driving cars for the sprawl-supporting pact with satan that they are. Support public transportation! Don’t support sprawl and McMansions! Recognize that suburbia in general and lawns in particular are a facsimile of greenness that destroy actual usable habitat and replace it with sterile monocultures that require gallons of water, pesticides, and fertilizer to maintain. Stop using products with neonicotinoids altogether. Make your yard wildlife-friendly. Consider a brush pile. Keep your damn cats indoors. Plant native plants. Remove invasive plants. Maybe don’t freak out and call animal control every time you see a bat or snake or coyote in your neighborhood since they were literally there first and we’ve left them no place else to go. Watch out for herps crossing the roads in the breeding season, especially our salamanders. Plant a NATIVE tree. Support your local parks, forests, and waterways, big and small. 

A Lesson in Love (The Reunion)

Summary: (College!AU) In which you’re assigned to write a story about romance, a subject you know nothing about, and Bucky, a hopeless romantic, offers you his assistance.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 3,837

A/N: This is the second to last part in the series, babes. We’re almost done with this journey. 

“A Lesson in Love” Masterlist + Soundtrack

@avengerstories - you truly are the best of the best when it comes to editing (and everything else too)

Originally posted by captaincentenarian

You’ve walked the length of this hallway more than a dozen times before. Hundreds, if you count the amount of times you’ve strolled through the hallway in your apartment, one that is a spitting image of the one you’re standing in now. Your familiarity with the small space should make the journey from where you’re standing to where you need to be easy.


Every time you’ve made this walk, it was never with the knowledge that what’s waiting for you at your final destination had the potential to change everything.

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I quite enjoy the lines on my forehead because they show my life. That’s my history and I like to see that in other people. Like this wrinkle is due to some girl who broke my heart. I don’t want to escape it in any way.”  Michael Fassbender

the witch who brought the rain

water magic was in the air, a humidity that curled in her hair and muffled all her movements. not enough to work with, not enough to summon even a crackle of energy, but it was there, all around her.

she brought the humidity with her, along with storm clouds and rain. in the warm months after she arrived rain splattered almost constantly, letting up for only minutes at a time before beginning again and again and again. mornings were filled with gray light, like watercolors washed too thin. afternoons were warm but wet with the constant drizzling, everything suffocatingly green. and the gray-blue evenings felt like velvet on your skin from the humidity, the expanse of ocean bleeding into the endless deep blue sky.

so they called her a mermaid, or the girl who walked out of the sea, never mind that she’d come to town from the mountains, feet on solid ground all the way. yes, she’d brought the rain with her, but it had found her on its own.

it started back in those mountains. she’d woken up one day to find her morning tea singing bright, wordless songs at her, and the kettle steam whistling with far more skill than it ever had before. the water she splashed on her face ran off and left her perfectly dry when she only thought about it. rivulets of water trickled after her the wrong way up a slanted street.

people started to look at her sideways, to talk to her less and about her more. one day when she waded through the shallow river and emerged with her skirt soaked in spiraling patterns of wet and dry, the clothes-washers at the bank went silent until she finished her laundry and left. no one met her eyes as she walked home.

she decided it was time to leave. the rain found her as she descended into the foothills and guided her steps to the coast, to an abandoned cottage too close to the shore, and settled in with her. no one in this new town met her eyes either, but at least to them she wasn’t a girl they’d once known turned strange.

she practiced her magic. coaxing the rain to stop and then to pour. freezing the remains of her tea into swirls of frost in her cup. making oceans of her washbasin and bathwater.

one day she pushed a path into the ocean and walked out as far as she dared, until the walls of water built up on either side of her far over her head and she grew frightened of the dark, grinning things that stared back at her from the clear water, and ran back to the shore as fast as her feet could scramble in the sand.

“is the ocean safe today, miss?” fishermen asked her sometimes when the sky looked gray, and she could never quite shake the shudder from those glassy, grinning stares.

“it’s never safe,” she’d say, “but you’ll come back today unharmed.”

and they believed her. they always believed her. who wouldn’t trust a sea witch to know the ocean?

but no matter what myths the villagers conjured, she hadn’t come from their ocean. she was a rain girl, a river-touched witch. saltwater obeyed her, but it resented her for it. the dark grinning things hidden in the water knew they were beyond her power.

go to the ocean, the rain had told her, guiding each step away from her home. to the ocean, it repeated, running down her skin. she arrived at this village with her hair and clothes soaked, barely able to see for the rainstorm around her, shivering and resentful and cold. the ocean is dangerous, the rain told her, and they need your help.

that was the call of the rain in the warm months, as she settled into her new home and ignored each summons, each drop of water leaked under her door. help them. help them. help them.

the villagers never met her eyes, but they stared after her as she walked through town once a week. hoping. pleading. the puddles she stepped over stirred and trickled after her, winding through the cobblestones to rush after her feet. the hem of her dress was always soaked, and the villagers were always watching her back.

help them. help them.

the second time a boat failed to return after a storm, she could hear the wailing even from the isolated cottage. the drizzling rain seemed to amplify their footsteps as a group of damp, ragged villagers trekked from their houses to her door.

“the sea creatures take us one by one,” the woman who led them said when she opened the door. “children unattended on the shore. fishers and trappers near the water when the light is dull. the elders say they’re monsters, that they creep out of the waves when there’s no one looking.”

the witch stared over their heads. the waves had calmed after the storm, but the water was opaque and black in the nearly-night. “they have been satisfied for a few months. you will be safe at least until winter.”

they cried softly and pressed her hands and dipped their heads. it was easy to give them this small bit of comfort when she’d already noticed the pattern. desperate people will accept even what they already know as hope.

help them, the misting rain said as the ragged group made their way back to the village. she shut the door.

the constant rain kept up, but more heavily. it fell laboriously, always seeming as though it should have exhausted the dark clouds overhead by nightfall, yet it never did. the weather cooled. she had lived on their edge for half a year by the time the villagers lost another life to the ocean.

that night they did not go to the witch for comfort. it poured so heavily that it seemed the world was made of water.

they did not know that to her, each drop screamed as if in agony at her stillness. she sat all night wrapped in a shawl before her fireplace, the embers long ago smothered by what rain managed to get through, staring almost without blinking out the nearly sightless window. toward the ocean. toward the sea creatures with the grinning mouths.

that morning when they went without rain for hours for the first time since she’d arrived, she knew the rain had given up on her. the water in her cup boiled with a thought, steeped at her command, but it was silent as water had not been since the morning it began.

she stepped outside to unnatural stillness, in the same colorless dress and drooping shawl she’d worn all night. the villagers were holding the morning vigil for the dead in the center of their houses. smoke drifted through the scrubbed-raw air.

they watched her back as she left her doorway and went down the beach, feet bare in the cool sand. she reached the foaming edge of the ocean and kept walking. deeper, deeper, deeper, the water sucking at her skirt and then covering her shoulders, rising over her nose, eyes, head. those who didn’t turn away would claim they saw her silhouette beneath the water being embraced by something darker, and that a clawed hand reached out of the ocean and drew her trailing shawl in after her.