don't ask me if i like her because the answer is no

[All of this happened because I wanted to write something about Stiles not being able to sleep without his pillow. Spoiler alert: his pillow is Derek.]

-

Derek tries not to look too hurt when Stiles says he’s going back to Washington, but when the Sheriff claps his back and Scott offers him a friendly hug, he knows he failed. But after everything, after the other night - it just doesn’t feel fair.

-

“It was a nice road trip, wasn’t it?” Stiles had said after they’ve won, after everything was done, their friends were alive and fine and Derek finally got his loft back. “I mean, we had some fun, right?”

Derek smiled without looking away from the flowers the Sheriff got him as a housewarming gift. “Yeah.” He answered, finally turning around. “It was nice to spend time with you.” It was more than nice and he cursed himself for not being able to say it, still, after everything, after the nights spent driving and talking and fucking in deserted roads.

“Yeah.” Stiles agreed easily. He was the one who started it after all, always showing up to save Derek - despite Derek saving him back plenty of times - always being there, trusting him, smiling and laughing like Derek makes him happy. “What will you do now that you’re a free man again?”

Derek shrugged. “I always wanted to start a farm, maybe raise some sheep?” When Stiles blinked at him, surprised, Derek let out a snort.

“Fuck you, I almost believed it!” Stiles said, punching his shoulder.

“You’re ridiculous.” Derek shook his head, still smiling. 

You’re ridiculous.” Stiles stressed, his hand still on Derek’s shoulder, touching, teasing. “I’m -“ Derek didn’t let him finish then, turning around and just pressing their lips together.

He didn’t want to listen then - and in hindsight maybe he should’ve - but without the haste, the guilt of having a nice time whilst their friends could be dying, Derek couldn’t wait, he just wanted to worship Stiles’ body, just wanted to kiss all the places he couldn’t reach before when they were squeezed in the backseat of Stiles’ car. 

And so he did, he made Stiles moan his name the entire night and he moaned Stiles’ own just as louder. Just to have his heart crushed the morning after.

-

“I’m gonna miss you.” Stiles says, his Jeep packed and ready to go. To leave everything behind.

It’s unfair, Derek knows. Stiles didn’t make promises and neither did he, but he can’t help how he feels. He understands Stiles doesn’t want to be in Beacon Hills anymore and that’s his choice, but Derek made his own and he’s tired of running away.

He’s never felt closer to his family than when he’s here, he’s already lost enough and he doesn’t want to lose his home. But somehow, as Stiles drives away, he feels like he just did.

-

I miss you, Derek thinks every day, staring at the black screen of his phone and wondering if he should actually write those words and send them to Stiles. He decides against it and despite the fact he was joking before, on the third day after Stiles left, Derek buys a farm.

He tells Lydia first during lunch at her favorite restaurant - she was adamant they had to become best friends and Derek enjoys her company so he lets it happen easily - and she tells him he’s not allowed to wear plaid around her. Then he tells Scott and two days later, he shows up at Derek’s front door with all kinds of seeds - “We need pumpkins for Halloween, Derek. Make it happen!”.

It’s something to do with his hands, something to work on. Create life, instead of ending them, build things, instead of destroying. He feels good, better and healing. Cora says he’s calmer now and Derek smiles, despite knowing she won’t be able to see him, and tells her he is.

Some days Stiles texts him, others he doesn’t. Derek reads the ones he has every night before going to bed, but he never answers them.

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anonymous asked:

why don't you like kathleen kennedy? shes the only female and she seems nice

it’s april 2017 and there are still people who dont know kk is a white demon

  • kk is an icon of white feminism.
  • when she doesn’t get involved directly, female characters’ looks get incredibly diverse (animated series or novels etc. although, we can’t say they treat women of color well.)
  • new female actresses who play lead roles, d ridley, f jones, and e clarke are all white brunette (just like her). this is my personal opinion but for me, f jones was the weakest part in rogue one because of her emontionless and soulless performance, but kk was the one who insisted on casting her and she’s very proud of it. we haven’t seen clarke’s performance in the upcoming han solo film yet but she’s already very famous for horrible eyebrow acting (even her fans admit it). tessa thompson and zoe kravitz, who also auditioned for clarke’s role, is obviously better than her.
  • (also, i think the rogue one novel was a bit better but the movie was… it focuses on the white woman, who didn’t care about the rebellion but only herself then becomes a hero. it’s not feminism when men of color are used to spotlight a white woman, especially when one of them has sacrificed everything for the rebellion from when he was a very young kid. when i heard jyn’s character was originally more like cassian i couldn’t stop groaning because THAT WOULD HAVE BEEN SO MUCH BETTER.)
  • ‘for some reason’ she keeps thinking white brunette women are the most ideal people to get the roles. even if she’s doing it unconsciously, it doesn’t change the fact that’s racism. she’s a racist.
  • and when you are a racist you can’t be a feminist because feminism means you support all the women.
  • she seems very passionate when she talks about rey and jyn but when it’s about other actors who are men of color she suddenly becomes silent?? and she talks about this “girl power” a lot but when it’s about races, ethnicities and diversity she doesn’t say anything? it’s always the directors who sat next to her who speak about it, or actors of color themselves. her “girl power” only involves white women and yet she said star wars represented the world. 
  • she was a producer of complete disaster : avatar the last airbender movie, where almost everyone got whitewashed, which means she learned nothing from her past.
  • @kyber-sphere replied:  Actually, she isn’t even a feminist. Every time someone asks questions about “girl power” in panels she gets obviously irritated. One time, she was even dismissive towards the person who asked it too.
Drunk/Tired Lance College Headcanons

He’s pretty much that Drunk Girl™ post personified.

  • Found Allura crying because she missed her dad and home so he brought her a sweater and a kitten and threatened to beat up whoever made her cry.
  • Interrupted a conversation some girls were having and apologized profusely about it but he just had to say how bomb her highlight looked
  • Was worried Hunk wasn’t eating well due to exams and finals so at 3 am he cooked him a three course meal and made his favorite homemade snack just like Hunk’s mom used to make them (Hunk is pretty much wtf since Lance only seems to know how to make simple stuff and even burned water once)
  • Shiro found him swaddled and buried in blankets or pillows while he was tired but still trying to stay awake and tried to give him that Disappointed Dad Look™ but he just glared at him saying “I’ve seen better disappointed looks from my dog, try again.”
  • Lance usually overthinks things but oddly enough if he’s drunk or tired enough everything is super simple?
    • Pidge: What the hell is wrong with this code???? I’ve re-calibrated it like six times and it still won’t verify anything?!?!!?
    • Lance looking over at it upside down from where he’s laying on the couch all awkward like and what should be physically impossible: Move that 6 and letter A on line 4 to line 5 and move that dash to the right about 3 spaces.
    • Pidge:
    • Pidge:
    • Pidge: What the fuck 
  • There was one time a professor tried to call Lance out…one time
    • Professor: Lance since you’re so obviously engaged in this discussion and no one else can seem to find the answer can you explain this theory for us?
    • Lance having stayed up till 4am when it’s now 7 o’clock: I could if this was even the chapter you had assigned to us to look at and said we would be discussing today, but I mean you’re either going to say well done and try to make it seem like you were testing us when in reality you had no damn idea and was gonna continue teaching like you knew what the fuck you were talking about or you’re going to try to make me look dumb with your pirate looking ass but by all means do what you do.
    • He promptly passed the fuck out right after.
    • The professor stopped calling on him after that.
  • If Lance is tired enough he literally gives no fucks…at all. He’s trying to go home back to sleep, not deal with anyone’s bullshit today.
    • Lance holding Keith by the collar: Keith no, you can’t fight him today, I’m tired and I want to go home and sleep. why are you trying to fight him anyway.
    • Keith: He was talking shit about my mom
    • Lance rolling his sleeves up: You stay the fuck here I’m kicking his greasy ass myself.
    • They had to get Shiro to pick them both up.
    • Lance and Keith: DRIVE DRIVE DRIVE!!!!!
    • Shiro: What the hell did you two do? And Lance why is your lip busted?
    • Lance: The other guy’s going to need an ambulance okay I’m fine, just drive the fuck away now! I think dude’s girlfriend called the cops.
    • Shiro: What the fucking-
    • Shiro tries to be mad but those two are in the backseat asleep and cuddling so he thinks he can let this slide just once.
    • He doesn’t wake them up when he gets in the driveway so like the shit brother he is he leaves them in the car.
    • He waits until it’s 12 at night before setting off the car alarm.
  • Lance just compliments anyone and everyone when he’s super tired.
    • He’ll say how nice and what a good friend Hunk is.
    • Makes Pidge a flower crown like he does for his nieces and nephews
      • Pidge: Where the fuck did you get the flowers? The campus is literally fake grass and the park is at least 10 miles away. You haven’t even left the dorm what the fuck?
      • Lance: Shhhh hush, now you’re the prettiest girl in town with a flower crown
      • Pidge: What was I before?
      • Lance: Prettiest girl in town duh
    • Does the most badass and elegant braids and styles for Allura’s hair but most of the time he’s not even conscious for it and when she shows up with her hair done up he asks her who she went to and she says him and he just sits there having an epiphany for a solid ten minutes every time looking at his hands like they’ve saved lives.
    • He told Coran he was the best uncle ever and the man has not stopped crying about it. Had the quote printed and framed, it’s hung up on the wall for everyone to see.
    • Shiro was asleep so he just got tape, put strips of it on his prosthetic arm (Don’t write on someone’s arm permanently that’s rude) and used the strips to write out small compliments and doodle nice things like flowers and kittens. Shiro wants to be made about but like…it’s not even permanent and he keeps finding a new doodle every few minutes like a easter egg hunt so it keeps him entertained.
    • Saw Keith was sad one time, went out at 11 at night to an old family friend that lived out near where he was, came back with kittens he newly adopted from family friend and just dumped about 3 kittens on Keith.
      • Keith: Lance what the fuck
      • Lance: Pretty people shouldn’t be sad and you’re like the prettiest so that’s pretty much against the federal law??? And kittens are like happiness personified. Keep them, I can’t take them back.
      • He passed the fuck out right after that too.
      • Keith with kittens in his lap: What the fuck
i have too many feelings about michelle jones so here have headcanons and peter x michelle

this was obnoxiously long because i have no control so lots of stuff is under the cut and it became very fic-like at the end there, whoops. 

one (THIS ONE!) | two | three | four | five | six | seven | eight | nine

  • so michelle moved with her family to new york when she started high school
  • and mj was actually pretty sad to leave her friends back in chicago because it had taken a long time to make those friends and she always feels awkward around new people
  • so she isn’t very happy about The Move
  • she comes from a loving family
  • like, she gets kissed every night before she goes to bed, her parents read her bedtime stories until she was ten, she used to wear matching outfits with her mother, family movie nights were every friday
  • her parents were really good to her for the most part and just loved and supported her
  • they’re also pretty smart and since mj has pretty much always been inspired by them so intelligence and the acquisition of knowledge is really important to her
  • hence reading and academic decathlon, but she’s also into math and science too because she’s very driven and doesn’t have that many friends in new york so what else is she gonna do?
  • and her parents are an interracial couple and they’ve encountered a lot of hate and mj was always so sad when she walked out with her mother and people would give them weird looks
  • so she’s tried to end hate whenever she can and fights to give a voice to those who are silenced
  • but now cue mj going to high school in new york
  • she joins academic decathlon ofc because who do you think she is she lives for this shit
  • and then! there is this little shithead on the team PETER PARKER
  • like who the fuck does this kid think he is
  • answering all these questions, acting like he’s sooo smart just because he happens to know a lot of facts and is really good at physics and speaks spanish really well and also happens to be really dorky and adorable and okay maybe he’s kind of attractive too and maybe mj starts throwing herself more into academic decathlon and possible CONSIDERS joining band but that’s ONLY BECAUSE PETER IS A SHITHEAD AND SHE NEEDS TO SHOW HIM HE ISN’T THE ONLY TALENTED ONE OKAY
  • anyway

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mere-peripheral  asked:

Why do people approach stress-barking dogs? My dog is people-nervous, and has some kind of PTSD going on, and we've much figured out how to manage situations to keep her the least stressed and therefore less likely to lash out at people as they leave the room or (in the case of one cousin) try to hit her. But this lady arrived without warning and even though my dog was barking and I said "Don't come close, she's anxious" she tried to approach the dog until I literally screamed "Please, don't."

Society, at least the society I live and work in, has this habit of viewing dogs as public property, even though they are not.

Dogs firstly are their own animals, and they have their own comfort zone, which if you cross is likely to end up with you being bitten, but they are also private property which means nobody should approach or touch any dog without permission.

Tumblr is a funny place to see these posts, because while I see lots of posts about humans and mental health and the importance of consent, but I also see lots of posts about ‘Doggos! Luv all teh doggos! I pat all da doggos!’ without considering that, like humans, perhaps there are some doggos which do not want pats.

Some people perceive dogs as objects, and will automatically assume a dog will react how they want them to react, and also believe that they have a right to interact with the dog. I believe some service dog handlers would have quite a lot to add on this topic. This sort of person will often take great offense when they are asked not to touch your dog, and will often ignore requests to do so. They may also bark back at or antagonize an already stressed dog to ‘talk to it’ or ‘show it who’s the bigger dog’. This is not recommended and makes no sense.

Lots of non-dog people don’t understand dog body language or read their cues well. To be fair, lots of dog owners don’t either, which is why so many dogs are said to be ‘dominant’ when they’re really just scared.

It’s also why I’m frustratingly frequently told on the street, when I stop to let a stranger’s dog sniff me, that I ‘shouldn’t be afraid, they wont bite’ when I am not at all afraid of dogs, but I am being polite and allowing the dog to approach on its own terms. It’s no wonder so many people get bitten.

This is why continuing, accessible, accurate education about animal behavior, especially pets, is so important. Both for human safety and animal welfare.

So the short answer is: Entitlement, ignorance or mis-information.

So yeah maybe I ran out of questions but you ran out of answers.
where the fuck were you when i was half drowned in a bottle of whiskey just asking for a text back?
where the fuck were you when life crawled under my skin and tore itself out from the inside?
where the fuck were you when I was going through it last November and you said looking at pain this close made you uncomfortable?
where do you get off with telling me I shouldn’t talk to him and that he’s bad and he only cares about one thing when the only goddamn time you were interested in me is when my clothes were off and yours were too
look at this game we played because it never was that to me but you only just now put your cards down so you could hold her fucking hand and
i can’t be mad about it I can’t feel it in my chest like a jolt of electricity i can’t beg for you to come back when you were never even here so
yeah
maybe i ran out of questions
but only when you stopped fucking answering them.
—  so block me again we’re not even friends– lily rain

anonymous asked:

i don't remember if this has been discussed before but do you know why lexa was so smiley and almost playful in that scene in 304 when she was telling clarke about aden?

Alright, my brain is currently melting away because of the unbearable heat, so I hope this will make sense even though I’m not really sure about it. BUT. I wanted to answer this question because we kinda see the scene in a very different way. Maybe it’s my angsty soul, but I actually don’t think Lexa is being that playful in that scene. Actually… there are certain elements about it that I actually find sad, mostly because they speak of how Lexa is, of the way she thinks and sees things. In this particular case, the way she sees Clarke. Or even better, the way she reads Clarke’s reaction to the situation. But let me try to make myself more clear. (x)

The scene begins with Lexa asking Aden to stay so she can introduce him to Clarke. She proceeds to praise him, making sure Clarke knows his value, and to explain what is going to happen in case she should die during the duel with Roan.

I love how much you can read on Clarke’s face here. The initial confusion. Then, most important, the slight panic and worry at the mention of Lexa’s possible death. Her eyes actually go wide at that. Then, the moment when she connects the dots, when she realizes why Lexa is introducing her to this child, because he’ll likely be the next Commander. They’re mostly talking politics, but basically, everything about this scene revolves around one thing: Lexa’s death. And here we get to the part I actually find pretty sad.

Lexa sees the confusion and fear on Clarke’s face and, in a rare occasion when it comes to Lexa understanding and knowing Clarke, she misreads what she sees. 

What does she tell Aden? “Clarke worries about her people.” Clarke worries about her people. This tiny smile, almost resigned in a way, appears on her face, and she explains to Aden the apparent reason for Clarke’s worried expression. And this is what pains me: the thought that Clarke might be worried about her doesn’t cross Lexa’s mind. Her death is a reason for concern in the sense that it could lead to potential danger for Clarke’s people, not a concern because it would mean that, you know, she would be gone. Lexa talks about her death constantly and nonchalantly because she has been taught not to value her life outside of the confinements of her position as Commander. At worst, she sees it as an inconvenience, definitely not as a tragedy. Add the delicate condition of Clarke and Lexa’s relationship to this, the baby steps towards rebuilding trust and growing close again, and it’s pretty easy to understand why Lexa doesn’t think Clarke’s worry might have anything to do with her as Lexa the girl, not the Commander.

This is why she has Aden explain what he would do if she were to die, how he would still protect Skaikru and accept them into the Coalition. This is why I think she smirks. In her head, she has it all covered: Clarke has no reason to worry because she took care of every small detail to ensure Skaikru’s safety in case of her death.

Except that Clarke has every reason to worry, because she doesn’t care just about her people. She cares about Lexa.

Mr. Min - Prologue

Description:  Your CEO caught your attention the first day you started your new job and it seems the attraction is mutual.  Too bad he’s only interested in a relationship that benefits him.

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Implied Smut?  All the other chapters will have actual smut.

Word Count: 1661

Warning: Dom!Yoongi, demeaning names

A/N: This is a response to this request.  Thanks anon!

Playlist - Prologue - Ch 01 - Ch 02 - Ch 03 - Ch 04 - Ch 05 - Ch 06

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mum

Sirius Black had always traveled to King’s Cross with incredible joy in his heart knowing that he wouldn’t have to return to Grimmauld Place, 12 for several months and that he wouldn’t see his family for a very long time. This was the first time Sirius had trouble getting out of his bed on 1st of September. He didn’t know how to explain it but it felt like a hippogriff was sitting on his chest making it hard to breathe.

“Padfoot,” sighed James. “If you make me miss the train, I will steal all of Remus’ chocolate and blame it on you and he will believe me.”

“Idunwanowunintmmawf,” said Sirius into his pillow. 

“I’m sorry, what?”

“I don’t want to run into my mother,” he replied sitting up realising he didn’t have the strength to deal with James Potter at the moment. 

“We will move quickly and we won’t see even a string of her hair,” smiled James. “That’s a promise, Pads.”

“But she will see us Prongs,” mumbled Sirius looking like a lost puppy. “That bitch has her ways, she always finds me and Regulus in the crowd.”

“Don’t be fucking ridiculous and get out of the bed” ordered James in return as he attempted carrying his trunk down the stairs for a second. “MUUUUUM can I locomotor my trunk dooooownn?”

“NO,” said Euphemia sternly from downstairs. “You’ll carry it down James and so will Sirius.”

“But muuuum-”

“James, dear, you are sixteen years old,” explained his mum like she was talking to a small child to make sure he doesn’t set the house on fire. “Stop acting like you are four or that girl you like so much won’t even look your way let alone like you. Independent women like grown men, not needy children.”

Euphemia Potter had a way with her son, she knew where all of his buttons were and how to push them just right because James Potter and his trunk were downstairs the Muggle way in a minute after the pep talk she had given. 

The breakfast was calmer than usual with Fleamont being at work and Sirius acting like he is half dead. When they were completely ready to floo themselves to the train station, Euphemia put her hand softly on Sirius’ shoulder, a kind of touch he wasn’t still used to after almost two months.

“Sirius,” began Euphemia. “What’s wrong? You know you can talk to me.”

“I just really don’t want to run into my mother,” confessed Sirius. “I’m scared of what she might do to you.”

James shook his head in disbelief, he found it hard to understand the irrational fear Sirius had. He knew Walburga was one disturbed woman but he also knew his mother shouldn’t be underestimated.

“Walburga should be scared of running into me,” said Euphemia half jokingly but James knew what would happen if they were to run into that woman. “I can handle him dear.”

Sirius nodded as convincingly as he could before he grabbed floo powder from the porcelain bowl standing next to the marble fireplace.

“King’s Cross,” he said clearly and he was gone with the green flames in seconds.

It didn’t take long for James and his mum to come with the flames. They hurried towards the Platform 9 ¾ with their trolleys and James ran face first into the wall just to disappear into thin air and then Euphemia and Sirius ran to the other side of the wall as well. 

Hogwarts Express was standing with all it’s crimson glory waiting for the students to get in to take them to Hogwarts. The three of them walked hastily to where the Marauders’ compartment was. They stood in front of the door to say their goodbyes.

“Be good,” said Euphemia. “I don’t want any letters from Minerva this year James.”

“Mum, you know I can’t promise anything.”

“Where did I go wrong while raising you?” she asked curiously. “Don’t answer that.”

“Sirius, write to me whenever you feel like it,” she reminded. “I’ll be expecting you home for Christmas, alright?”

“Yes, mum,” said Sirius and choked on his words almost instantly as a warm smile formed on Euphemia’s lips and James’ eyes lit up like they were fairy lights.

“Tsk tsk, Sirius,” came Walburga’s cold voice behind them. “We shouldn’t call blood traitors who didn’t give birth to us ‘mum’.”

It seemed like Sirius had shrunk in size as Euphemia stepped in front of him protectively.

“Tsk tsk Walburga,” she repeated. “We shouldn’t eavesdrop on conversations that aren’t ours and give opinions that no one asked for. He can call me ‘mum’ whenever he wants to, seeing that his actual mother is not available at the moment.”

Walburga made an attempt to grab Sirius by the wrist but Euphemia was agile for her age and she was holding onto Sirius’ wrist like he would die if she let go.

“You won’t touch my son and I’m not talking about James.”

“I suggest you stay out of this Euphemia, this is none of your business.”

“Oh, you made it my business when this boy showed up in my living room, barely breathing,” shot back Euphemia with all the rage that had been building up in her. Sirius was hiding behind her, careful not to catch Walburga’s piercing eyes.

“You are exaggerating,” she replied. “Nothing wrong with a little tough love.”

“I know an Unforgivable Curse when I see one Walburga,” she hissed just loud enough for people around them to hear, Walburga was turning purple with anger. “If I could, I would take Regulus from you, too, before he ends up dead from your tough love.”

“How dare you speak to me like that?”

“The same way you dare torture your children Walburga,” she said without blinking. “Now let go of my wrist and stay away from my sons.”

Sirius was trembling behind Euphemia who was standing like she was the queen of the universe, she didn’t move until Walburga Black turned around and left. 

“I told you I could handle her,” she said with a reassuring smile and caressed Sirius’ cheek softly. Sirius noticed the marks on Euphemia’s wrist then, burn marks like the long boney fingers of his mother. “As long as you got me, she can never come close to you and know that there’s nothing wrong with you calling me mum. Anyone would be proud to have you as a son and I am, too.”

“I- I can heal that if y-you want m-mum,” said Sirius, his voice shaking with the weight he was feeling on his shoulders. “I’ve- I’ve gotten pretty g-good with h-healing charms.”

“No Sirius, I can fix it. You forget you are not allowed to practice magic outside of Hogwarts,” she reminded and laughed a little. “It’s funny that a woman of her age is unable to control her magic like a toddler.”

Sirius’ eyes were still fixed on Euphemia’s thin wrist, his eyes filling up with the anger and sadness he was feeling. He lifted his eyes just a little to give a guilty look to James and saw his best friend smiling warmly down at him, he didn’t hide his pity but he didn’t have to. James always found it rather unlucky that Sirius ended up in such a messy family and never lied about how he felt about that situation, his pity was because he cared.

“Mum’s a big girl mate,” he said like he knew Sirius was about to spiral down and he needed someone to say something, anything. “She can take care of herself.”

“He is right, love,” nodded Euphemia. “Now, off you go, we don’t want you to miss the train because of something as unimportant and miserable as Walburga.”

“Just call her a bitch, mum.”

“James Fleamont Potter,” began Euphemia as she jokingly flicked her son’s arm. “You kiss me with that mouth and you will stop saying that word, even though some people deserve it, or so help me Merlin I’ll ground you until the end of time.”

“Okay, okay,” surrendered James. “I’ll just call her a goblin.”

“That’s my boy,” she replied and the spark came back to Sirius’ grey eyes. Euphemia hugged both of them and gave them loud kisses before she pushed them towards the train. “Don’t forget to write to me when you get there.”

“Sure, mum,” said Sirius with a grin before he was dragged away by an over eager James.

When You Fail To Be

I blame you entirely @kaxpha I take no responsibility.

…. Y u hurt me dude.

Anyways. Here it is, chapter 1. Lance and Shiro angst + broganes angst + KLANCE angst + ….Just angst all around, yo.

Um…So yeah, hope you like??? It’s also on Ao3 on my same name. It’s the second part of the Human Healing Pod Au.

Disclaimer: Voltron doesn’t belong to me. Human Healing Pod Au doesn’t belong to me.

——————————

Shiro frowns exasperated as he catches Lance’s blue glowing light from the corner of his eye.

It’s been a few weeks since their last group training took place with Lance’s new healing powers. The brunet insisted that he had the hang of it, being able to work through the process on small injuries without getting dizzy after it.

Lance had reassure Shiro that he will continue training on his own but Shiro had just pursed his lips, not convinced in the least. After a few minutes arguing, Shiro finally agreed to Lance’s plan but only if the brunet had someone with him during his training sessions, something that Lance had grudgingly agreed to along with a few more conditions.

One week later and Lance was already breaking one of their conditions.

“That boy, I swear.” Shiro mumbles, making his way towards Lance as the brunet places his hands over the alien refugee they just saved in today’s mission, his blue eyes falling into a vivid glow entirely in less than a tick, “Hey, I said no more healing today, Lance. You –“

It was just a light pull. Shiro placed his Galra arm over the brunet’s shoulder and pull just enough break apart the contact between him and the alien’s wound and suddenly there was screaming.

Agonized and pained screaming echoes around them and Shiro just stares in horror as Lance shakes and continues to scream in his arms, his glowing eyes getting brighter before losing their light and then being bright once again.

“Lance!” Shiro shouts startled, “Lance, buddy, what’s wrong¡?” He yells in panic, making sure to hold the teen tight against him as he continues to scream and then –

Then Lance sighs, eyes rolling to the back of his head, losing their blue glow, and he goes limp on Shiro’s arms, mouth hanging open in a silent scream and Shiro’s heart skips a beat at the sight.

“L-Lance?” He whispers softly, voice cracking, “Buddy?”

“LANCE!” Keith’s voice echoes in panic and urgency, “Lance¡? Shiro, what happened¡? LANCE!”

“H-He’s not breathing.” Shiro gasps, a cold shiver running through his spine, “H-he’s not –“

Lance’s suddenly taken away from him by a pair of red armored hands. Shiro blinks in panic and confusion for a moment before he raises his head and stares at Keith as the black haired teen cradles Lance’s body against his.

“Lance, baby, hey, come on, come on, this is not funny, Lance, please.” Keith mumbles, his free hand gently patting Lance’s cheek in hopes of getting a reaction, “L-Lance, baby, please, please, no. Hey! Come on, you promised! Lance!”

Everything’s a blur for Shiro after that. Keith’s screams and pleads echo inside him, mixing themselves with Lance’s screams along with Hunk’s sobs and the image of Pidge’s scared face. Barely noticing when Coran makes his way towards them and takes Lance from Keith’s arms, followed by the blurry image of Hunk holding Keith back as he trashes and screams wildly when Lance is taken away from him.

He doesn’t even notice Allura’s presence until she whispers his name against his ear and he snaps out of it. He blinks hard and takes the surroundings around him. He’s in Allura’s room, lying down on her bed, facing the ceiling in disorientation and confusion.

“Wha –“ Shiro mumbles softly, “What.”

“Hey, it’s alright. Take it easy.” Allura whispers gently, stroking his hair, “It’s alright.”

“What happened?” Shiro asks in a daze, eyes groggy and tired before they snap wide open as he remembers Lance’s limp weight on his arms, “Lance. What happened to Lance? Allura?”

“You killed him, that’s what happened.” Shiro freezes at the cold harsh voice that answers him and slowly turns his head to the side to meet his little brother’s glare.

“Keith!” Allura snaps, sighing in exasperation as if it wasn’t the first time she has scolded the teen.

“What? It’s true, isn’t it?” Keith snaps back, frowning and glaring angrily.

Allura stays quiet and Shiro’s blood turns cold.

“Allura?” He asks in a small voice and Allura shakes her head.

“He died for a few ticks but we were able to get him back.” Allura answers, her shoulders tense and her voice tired, “But it wasn’t anyone’s fau –“

“No. It was Shiro’s. It was Shiro who made Lance push himself in every training session knowing the danger. It was Shiro who made Lance feel like he needed to push and push and push himself more every time. It’s because of Shiro that Lance has dark bags and swollen red eyes and is tired all the time. It was Shiro –It was Shiro who broke the connection and caused Lance’s heart to stop.”

One, two, three beats and then –

“What?” Shiro breaths out, slowly sitting up on the bed and waving away Allura’s complaints, “What? What does that – What?

“Keith.” Allura says calmly but with an edge of warning in her tone, “Stand down.”

“Whatever.” Keith mumbles, scoffing and sending Shiro a dark glare before turning around and walking towards the exit, leaving behind a frozen Shiro.

“What.” Shiro whispers, “What?”

“Shiro –“

“Keith, no, wait!” Shiro ignores Allura’s words as he climbs down the bed and follows his brother with wobbly but fast steps, “Keith Kogane Shirogane, come back her –!”

Keith turns around sharply and Shiro takes a surprised step back at the furious snarl on his kid brother’s face.

“Don’t call me that.” Keith whispers with menace, “I want nothing to do with you, you hear me? Nothing.”

“Keith –“ Shiro stops as Keith suddenly crashes against him, barely dodging the fist that was aimed for his face, “Keith!” He repeats, grabbing Keith by the arms and keeping him still.

“You damn son of a –! It was your fault! You and your stupid rules! You and – and – God, I hate you, Ifucking hate you!” Keith screams, fist hitting the young adult on the chest, “You fucking – I fucking hate –“

“Buddy –“

“You didn’t protect him!” Keith screams, still trashing and kicking against Shiro’s hold on his arms, “You didn’t protect him! You promised and you didn’t –! You just let him die in your arms! You just stood there as he died and –! Fuck!”

“Keith, please –“ Shiro rasps out brokenly but Keith shakes his head, taking a step back from his older brother, shrugging his hold.

“No. No. He died, Shiro. My – Lance died and I – I couldn’t – And –“ A sudden abrupt sob escapes his mouth and suddenly Keith falls to the ground, sobs shaking his entire body, “I –I –I didn’t know what – And you were – You looked so hopeless as you held him and I couldn’t – I fucking lost it –“

“Keith.” Shiro mumbles, his heart breaking for his little brother but the teen just continues to sob on the ground in the middle of the hallway.

“I-I’m sorry, fuck – I’m sorry, Shiro – I know it wasn’t – wasn’t your fault but –“ Keith presses the palm of his hands hard against his eyes in hopes to stop the flowing tears, “It was mine. It was my fault – And I slash out at you and I’m – He was dead, god , he wasDEAD, SHIRO!”

Shiro doesn’t hesitates and then he’s on the floor, wrapping his arms around his little brother as the teen shakes with sobs, still mumbling incoherently against his brother’s chest and Shiro takes no mind as snot and tears mix themselves on his shirt.

He just holds his brother, tight and strong, and sucks in a deep breath to stop his own tears from falling.

“I’m sorry.” He murmurs under his breath against Keith’s wild hair, “I’m so sorry, little brother.”

Allura just stands quietly on the corner, watching with sad eyes as the brothers sit on the floor, holding each other. She turns then, giving them their privacy before she enters the first room down the opposite hall.

Her footsteps are soft as she walks towards the bed on the corner of the room. The room is dark and quiet, for the exception of the hard panting breathing coming from the bed.

Allura takes a seat on the start of the bed, near Lance’s face, and watches sadly as the brunet rasps out harsh breaths through his mouth, unable to fill his lungs properly.

“Hush, now, it’s okay, Lance. It’s okay.” She mumbles gently, brushing Lance’s wet hair back as the the brunet whimpers inconsolably, “Sh, asteráki. You’re alright.”

She stays there for a while, humming under her voice to calm the brunet down and whispering comfort words as he whimpers and whines unconsciously.

Allura losses track of the time but suddenly, the door opens once again and she meets Shiro’s wide scared eyes at the edge of the door.

“Shiro.” She calls softly and frowns when the leader of Voltron doesn’t knowledge her calling, his gray eyes solemnly placed on the shivering brunet on the bed, “Shiro, love.”

One, two, three steps back out of shock and then Shiro’s running out of the room. 

“3 Weeks”

requested // yes

requests are open // request here

AN // This is pure filth and I’m sorry

TW // Smut, profanity

“Sexual-Frustration. Noun. (countable and uncountable, plural sexual frustrations) A state of agitation felt by an individual whose sexual satisfaction is considerably less than desired”

3 weeks. It had been 3 weeks since he last touched her. It’s not intentional, he’s just been so busy he’s barely noticed and to be fair neither had she but her body had.

For the first week she was fine, content with his fleeting lips on her forehead as he rushed out the door are the tired kisses he gave when he got home late. She was okay with only feeling his hands on the small of her back as he reached over her for his razor as she brushed her teeth. She was fine. The second week was manageable, yes his fleeting lips left her flustered and his tired kisses left her wanting more and sure when his hand brushed over the small of her back it left goosebumps in it’s wake but she could ignore it. She was fine. So why tonight, on the 3 week mark, is she so temperamental? Why has she been short with him all day and why couldn’t she focus on anything at work?

She’d been home from work for about an hour when he walked through the bedroom door. He’s mad at her, she yelled at him this morning for reasons he was unaware of. She’d dodged his phone calls all day and ignored his attempts at finding out what was wrong. Yet he still notices her staring at him when he walks into the room, can see her sat on the bed with her now closed book and her bottom lip between her teeth as her eyes follow him around the room, he can feel her watching him and that’s when it clicks. 

He turns and walks to her like a predator who’s found his victim, his hands pulled her clothes off slowly and then parted her thighs as she watched him with wide eyes. He’s not touching her, not how she needs him to, not where she needs him to. He’s leaning over her with that goddamn smirk on his face as his fingers lightly trace her inner thigh.

“Saw yeh staring. This what’s got you so frustrated? Pretty girl missed my hands on her huh?” 

She can’t respond, she doesn’t need to. He knows her answer, can feel her answer.

“Missed y’too, missed how your body reacts to me like the earth does to lightning. Missed how you arch into me, as needful of me as I am of you. Missed this.

She still doesn’t answer, it’s as though his touch leaves her speechless. Her body is too busy welcoming the feeling of his hands on her skin to reply, too busy forming goosebumps to form words.

“S’my pretty girl not gonna talk to me? She not even gonna moan for me?”

He’s asking for it now, almost teasingly, he can see what he’s doing to her yet he still wants to hear it. He wants to hear her.

“Harry I…”

“What baby? Can’t please you if I don’t know what you want”

And she’s trying, trying to tell him what she needs, trying to ask for more but she just can’t. She’s overwhelmed, he hasn’t touched her for weeks and it’s too much yet not enough all at once.

“H please

“Please what poppet?”

He’s making her beg for it. It’s like he’s punishing her, for being moody with him, for not just asking him to touch her, for making him work it out for himself.

“Please touch me, need you to touch me”

“But I am touching you gorgeous”

She almost sobs, she’s so desperate and he’s toying with her. A moan escaped her as his hands moved to her pubic bone. It was all too slow. The moan was more dissatisfaction than the opposite but still it evokes a teasing glint in his eye.

“Am I close sweetheart? M’I close to where you want me?”

All she can do is nod, he’s so close but he’s not there.

“What about here? is this better?”

His hand is flat against her mound and his thumb is rubbing softly just above the top of her clit. Her eyes are wide and watery as she silently pleads with him to give her what she’s so desperate for.

“Oh no, that’s not what you want is it sweets? No, you want me here”

His thumb finally touches her nerves and it has her gasping like it the first time she’s breathed since she saw him walk into the bedroom. He’s barely done anything but yet she’s arching her back and gripping his arm and he’s enthralled with it, with her, he’s only rubbing her in slow circles and she’s writhing.

“More…”

“What was that my love?”

He’s not teasing her anymore, not trying to make her beg, he was just so wrapped up in watching her squirm that he couldn’t comprehend what she was asking for.

“Please H, need more”

“My sweet girl wants more huh? Wants me to make her cum?”

She’s breathless, the rasp in his voice driving her insane. All she can do is say “please” like that and his name are all that’s in her vocabulary right now. Her please makes him smile, she’s completely as his mercy and he loves it. He slips his fore and middle finger into her while his thumb presses steady circles into her clit and she’s whimpering and to him it sounds like heaven. He knows her body like he knows his own name, he knows what makes her tick, so when his fingers touch the most sensitive spots inside of her and she lets out a cry he just smiles, her body is his and he knows how to use it. She can feel her stomach tightening and her heart beat in her throat.

“So close”

“Yeah? Is my pretty girl going to cum for me? Gonna let me watch you break?”

Her eyes are squeezed shut as she nods, he can see tears threatening to spill and he’s proud. His fingers stop moving and instead they press on her softest spot, the spot that makes her scream. The pressure there coupled with his thumb on her clit is too much, she’s hypersensitive and he’s using it against her. Both of her hands grip his wrist as she lets out a sob, his head snaps up in worry just to be stunned with the image of his girl completely wrecked because of him and he swears it’s the most beautiful sight he’s ever seen. His free hand moves to cup one side of her face as his thumb brushes away her stray tears, something so innocent compared to what his other thumb is doing to her.

“That’s it sweetheart, cum for me, that’s my good girl”

His lips are on her cheek as she cums, her hands leave his wrist to grip his shirt tightly in her fist. Her body is stiff and her eyes are shut, tears are still streaming down her face but she’s silent. He’s watching her completely fall apart and he can’t believe he’s gone 3 weeks without seeing this, why was he depriving himself of such a beautiful sight? She’s shuddering as she comes down, her eyes still closed but the death grip she had on his shirt slowly being released as he lays her back against the bed.

“Are you okay my love?”

A shaky breath leaves her as she nods and opens her eyes to look him

“I’ve missed you”

It’s a quiet confession that he would’ve missed had he not been solely focused on her. It makes his heart ache. How he could ever leave this perfect girl, his perfect girl, without his touch for so long is beyond him and he’s making a promise to himself to never leave her without him for that long again, never going to deprive himself of her again. 

Imagine Bill talking about how nervous he was during your first meeting and letting it slip he has a crush on you during an interview.

Originally posted by karlmordo

“So I- I didn’t ask you at first and don’t think anybody has let it go-” Jimmy said with a chuckle and Bill grinned to himself, nodding his head “But uh you said you met (Y/n) almost eight years ago? That’s- that’s a very long time you know.”

“Uh yeah” Bill rubbed the back of his neck a little nervously “My father had uhm he had invited me actually on set, to bemore specific, and I could never miss a chance like that. And- and that’s where I met her.”

“Hmh” Jimmy nodded his head “On the- on the set of Thor, right? Her character, and her as a person, has many fans that love her and is quite famous and so are you. Yet nobody has noticed a thing for all this time, it’s quite remarkable how you kept so low you know?”

“Oh uh” he chuckled “Well, it wasn’t that easy I will tell you. But we uhm had a friendship that we really wanted to last and for us to enjoy it we- we made the decision to be as subtle about it as possible. Our families knew of course, and so did our- our friends but uhm-” he cleared his throat, trying not to get off topic and let something slip of the two of you being more than just friends “It was all sort of- sort of us… living the moment every time, trying to make it just about… us?” he tried to explain with hand motions, hoping it didn’t come out so much as it being more than a friendship.

Keep reading

The first thing Bitty does after he gets off the phone with Jack is dial his father’s number. He takes a deep breath, reminds himself that he has something to be proud of, and hits the call button.

Coach answers on the fifth ring. “Eric?”

“Hi, Coach,” Bitty says. “I have something important to tell you.”

His father pauses, then clears his throat. “Of course.”

Bitty can’t keep the huge grin off his face as he says, “I got the captaincy. I’m the captain.”

“Really? Good for you, son. You’ll make a great captain.”

“Thanks,” Bitty replies, then adds, “it was a unanimous vote.”

He knows he’s bragging, but he can’t help it. He needs Coach’s approval.

“Unanimous vote?” Coach repeats, and Bitty can hear his father smiling.

The receiver is muffled and Coach shouts, “Suzanne!”

Bitty listens as Coach tells his mother what Bitty told him.

Suzanne gasps, then says, “Dicky, I am so proud of you! But I’m not surprised.”

“I’m proud of you too, Eric,” Coach says, and that’s the instant Bitty starts to feel the guilt. They might be proud now, but they wouldn’t be if they knew about Jack.

“Thank you,” he says, and then suddenly he has to get off the phone Right Now because his throat is closing up. “Mom, Coach, I have to go. Some friends just came in.”

“Okay,” says Suzanne, “but send us some pictures from the banquet!”

“Sure,” Bitty manages. “Bye, y’all.”

“Bye, Dicky, love you!”

“Bye, Eric.”

He hangs up and just like that, he’s crying. Bitty has every reason in the world to be happy. He has Jack, he has an amazing team, he has the captaincy, but. There’s always a but, it seems like. He knows his parents would love him less if they knew he was gay. Knows it. He wonders if it’s ungrateful to be crying in his room when his team just voted him captain. He wonders why Samwell and everything he has here can’t be enough.


**

In Georgia, Coach hangs up the phone and looks at his wife. Suzanne is frowning, hands on her hips.

“You know,” she says, “when you called my name like that, I thought that was going to be it. That he would finally tell us.”

Coach sighs and sits down with her on the sofa. “I picked up the phone and he said he had something important to tell me. I thought the same thing.”

Suzanne puts her head in her hands and slumps forward. “It’s so hard to wait. I know he must be scared to tell us. But I don’t want to ask him about it, you know? I want him to do it when he feels comfortable.”

Coach puts a hand on her back. “I know, honey. Me too.”

“I just don’t want my baby to suffer,” Suzanne tells him. “God knows he’s done enough of that.”

Coach pulls her closer. “I know,” he repeats. “I know.”

anonymous asked:

Adrinette Adrien realizes his crush on Marinette

*omg guys i haven’t watched past episode 3 season 2 so pls spare me imma try….* *also thanks so much for the ask :)*

“Adrien, you really do have a type, don’t you?” Plagg whined. Or rather, he had not been whining as much as he simply had a very whine-y sounding voice. 

“What are you talking about?” Adrien asked. 

“I mean that I have to sit in your bag all day listening to you flirt with this Marinette girl, and then I have to watch you as Chat Noir while you flirt with Ladybug. And from what I can see, you have a type.” The kwami busied himself with a sizable amount of camembert as he spoke absentmindedly. Adrien was abashed. 

“I-I! First of all, that was totally uncalled for. Secondly, I do not flirt with Marinette. She’s my friend. And we’re European.”

“Excuses. But whatever you want to tell yourself.” 

“Plagg.” Adrien rubbed at the bridge of his nose, a habit he may have picked up from his father. “Marinette is just a friend. And what do you mean I have a type?” At this, Plagg turned to face Adrien, his would-be brows crinkled and his eyes narrow. 

“What.”

“What’s my type exactly? You said I -”

“I know what I said. I just don’t understand how one person could be as thick as you.”

“I am not -”

“Ladybug,” he interrupted again, slowly getting frustrated with the boy, “has black hair and blue eyes. Marinette has black hair and blue eyes. It’s not exactly a common look. You have a type kid.”

“Okay so they look the same. That does not mean that I have a type. And it doesn’t mean I’m flirting with Marinette.”

“You’re right, the fact that you have a type doesn’t mean you’re flirting with Marinette. The fact that you’re flirting with Marinette means that you have a type.” 

“Plagg. They aren’t even that similar. Ladybug is strong and confident, and always fights for what’s right, even if it’s not something she agrees with. She’s clever and smart and can think of the most plans things under pressure. She always stands her ground, even with me, but she also always trusts me, and I know I can trust her too.”

“Okay,” Plagg replied dully, now having gone back to his food, tired with Adrien’s density. 

“And Marinette is super sweet. She’s shy and clumsy, but always stands up for her friends. She’s kind and considerate. She’s creative and an amazing artist. She’s a great friend Plagg.” The kwami sighed heavily, incredulous over how blind Adrien was, and how willing he was suddenly to re-enter this conversation.

“Do you realize that you just said the same thing about Marinette than you did Ladybug but with different words? Adrien, just admit it. You’re making my cheese taste bad.”

“Plagg, I do not have a crush on Marinette.”

“I never said you did,” he replied, shrugging. “And why not? She not pretty enough? Not smart enough? What’s wrong with her?” Adrien’s brows furrowed. 

“Marinette is plenty pretty. She’s cute. And quirky. And there’s not a thing wrong with her.” He was only stating facts. He was only aggressively stating facts. 

“Alright. So, what’s the hold up?”

“I…” Adrien opened his mouth to speak, but no coherent thoughts made it through. At a loss for words, he flopped down onto his couch and buried his hands through his hair. “PLAGG!” he groaned, extending his kwami’s name. 

“What? What did I do?”

“Plagg, I think…”

“Whaat.”

“I think I have a crush on Marinette.”

“Good morning sunshine, glad you finally decided to wake up.”


*i was going to add kagami to his type but since i haven’t watched the episode yet, i didn’t want to get things wrong. also, have you noticed i really like dialogue?? also also this is very similar to a thing i did for fluff month but i’m pretty sure this one is wayyyyy better than the other one so here it is :D*

Trust

DAY 4 OF WHUMP WEEK- Torture.

I’m actually really proud of this one? It’s a bit longer than usual, and it’s very Keith-centric even though I’m whumping Lance because hi have you met me? I’m too invested in klance. I hope you enjoy!

@elsiemcclay aka the best person to run ideas and/or titles by. thanks friendo.


A groan sounded to Keith’s left, and he looked over immediately, trying to mask his relief with a glare. “Oh, good. He finally decided to wake up.”

“Hey, how many times do I have to tell you? Beauty sleep is important.” A pause. “Where are we again?”

Pidge snorted. “Guess that general hit him harder than we thought.”

“Lance! You’re okay! I was worried— that totally knocked you out, you hadn’t moved in a while,” Hunk rambled. “Does your head hurt?”

“Like hell,” Lance said, leaning back against the wall and pressing a hand to his forehead. “But nothing too serious. Thankfully, now that I’m conscious, I remember what happened. We’ve been captured, haven’t we?”

Keep reading

thegrumpiestunicorn  asked:

I don't normally do these prompt things, but “I don’t mean to sound paranoid but I’m pretty sure you’re a serial killer" sounds really interesting. No pressure!

Bucky watches from his window as the guy who lives in C107 climbs up the fire escape in about five steps. He pauses when he sees Bucky and gives him a little smile and a salute. Bucky forces a smile back.

Because, despite the guy from C107’s blond hair, charming smile, and generally pleasant demeanor, Bucky’s pretty sure that he’s a serial killer.

— —

C107 moved in three weeks ago during the middle of the night, because that’s what serial killers do. They come in the middle of the night, murder everyone on their floor, and leave before anyone can find their bodies. It doesn’t matter that C107 smiles shyly at him in the mailroom or helps the old lady in E202 with her groceries; Bucky knows what’s up. He knows that C107 sneaks out almost every night and doesn’t come back until morning, and never through the front door. Once or twice, Bucky’s seen him covered with blood.

So the guy’s a serial killer, and Bucky’s not sure what to do about that.

— —

There’s a knock on Bucky’s door.

Bucky texts Darcy: It’s the serial killer and I’m going to die.

Darcy texts back: have fun!

It’s not a helpful answer.

Bucky takes a deep breath and walks towards the door. It’s better that he just opens it up and accepts his fate. It’ll be hard enough for the landlord to rent out his apartment again after everyone finds out that a murder took place; he may as well not make any messy clean-up bills by having the serial killer knock down the door or something like that. Makes things simpler in the long run.

He opens it.

C107 is standing there, shirt covered in blood. “Hi,” he says with a bit of a sheepish smile.

“Oh,” Bucky says, then promptly passes out, because if there’s one thing that Bucky isn’t good with, it’s blood.

— —

He wakes up on his couch, underneath a blanket, and with the fluffiest pillow in his apartment beneath his bed. He does not wake up in Heaven (or Hell, if all of those fire and brimstone ‘homosexuals are killing America’ preachers are to be believed) because C107 killed him.

Bucky blinks a few times, then hears C107 on the phone. “No, that’s not… I don’t care if he knows who I am! That’s the point!”

Bucky closes his eyes again. It’s not worth it. He’s going to die.

“Well, what was I supposed to do, Tony? March into his apartment in my Cap uniform and commandeer his laundry machine?”

That’s… kinky.

“No, no, I’ll… I don’t want to wake him up! I’ll talk to you later, Tony.”

Bucky opens his eyes again, just to be a little sneaky, but of course C107 is already looking at him. “Hi there!” he says, far too perky for someone with a shirt covered in blood.

“Uh, hey,” Bucky says, pushing himself up.

“Easy now,” C107 says, rushing over to the couch. “Don’t force yourself,” he says.

“Why would you care?” Bucky asks, a bit hysterical as C107 reaches out to touch Bucky’s forehead with the back of his hand. “Since you’re here to murder me, and all.”

C107 drops his hand. “What?” he asks, incredulous.

“I’ve seen you! Crawling through the window at night! You’re going to kill me and honestly? I’m not prepared for it. I have… four things to live for. At least. Maybe five.”

C107 just stares.

“Six?” Bucky offers. “I’m not sure I can list more than six, to tell the truth.”

“I’m… I’m not going to kill you,” he says.

Bucky raises an eyebrow. “I have a hard time believing that.”

“No, no! I’m… I needed to borrow someone’s laundry machine and I saw you were up. That’s all.”

Bucky blinks. “You have your own in your unit.”

“It’s busted,” C107 says.

“Because you put bloody things in it all the time?” Bucky asks.

C107 snorts. “No, because the last resident and their partner had relations on it and busted it.”

“Go Kevin,” Bucky says.

C107 laughs. “Anyhow,” he says when he’s done, “I’m not here to kill you.”

“That’s a relief.”

“I mean, I have killed people before,” Bucky’s eyes go wide then C107 says in a rush, “but most of them were Nazis.”

“I’m not following here,” Bucky says, throat dry.

C107 sighs. “Okay, it’s. I’m. Captain America?” he says, wincing. “And I was just wondering if I could borrow your washing machine.”

Bucky nods. “Alright, okay, that’s…”

And it’s a good thing he’s already on the couch, because he passes out again.

anonymous asked:

Honestly I don't think Jensen and Misha are social friends, just good work buddies, but they never socialize outside of work. I think Jensen like Misha, qirks and all, but he doesn't love Misha like a bestie, more like love him because he's familiar and part of the same show for almost a decade.

Well, of course you’re entitled to your opinion, but– one thing you should know is they do hang out outside of work:

They’ve gone to the race track together:

Took family vacations together

Gone out for ice cream with one another:

They’ve gone on fun little spa trips:

And after conventions, they go and hang out– looking altogether, friendly.

Not to mention, Misha was at Jensen’s wedding which sure– could just be a work-friend thing, but I know I would still want to be fairly close with someone if I was going to invite them to such a personal event.

Now, I am not arguing the fact that Jensen and Jared hang out more– of course they do. They live right beside one another, their kids go to the same school, they’ve known each other for longer than either of them have known Misha, but that still doesn’t mean that Misha cant be super close with Jensen (and Jared) as well. Those two have talked about going out to dinner, just the two of them. They’ve talked about enjoying wine together (which is not something one normally does at work).

They have spoken of times where they have long, deep, emotional talks, and how much they enjoy those moments. That’s not something I normally do with my “work buddies”.

The fact is, they are great friends (if not more), whether or not they live near each other. My best friend of over twenty years has lived in Colorado for most of that time– but that doesn’t mean I love her any less than I did the friend who lived up the road from me. I cared for them equally, we all just had different types of friendships– but that didn’t make them any less than the other.

You don’t need to think that they’re in a poly relationship– that’s a matter of opinion; but to ignore just how much they do care about one another, how much they enjoy each other’s company– to write off their very deep friendship because of some physical distance between their homes, and not as much publicized evidence as others might have, is to completely disregard and disrespect things that they’ve specifically said about each other.

Jensen being best friends with Misha doesn’t make him any less Jared’s best friend.

It just doesn’t.

I don’t know why it always has to be a competition.

pre-zimbits, in which bittle is drunk and jack is very patient (and a jerk with a great ass)

“I can’t believe I didn’t stay for Senior Week last year.”

Bittle was sprawled across the grass in the little cemetery on the other side of the soccer field. Jack wasn’t entirely sure how he got here, but he was very drunk and very alone, and everyone else was very drunk and not answering Bittle’s texts.

“Having fun?” Jack asked, hands in his pockets.

Bittle pulled himself to his feet, using a headstone for balance. “Mmph, sorry there, Mr. Dead Dude. Don’t haunt me for this.”

Bittle was drunker than Jack feared. He stumbled over, eyes glassy and unfocused. There was no doubt Jack would be cleaning vomit tonight; Bittle was so buying him Annie’s tomorrow.

Keep reading

“You’re Giving Up On Us?”

A/N: hi, everyone! sorry i haven’t uploaded in a while. school has been keeping me more than busy lately! 

warnings: this is angsty (i think) ??

requested: @pxrrishly

thank you for requesting! i hope you enjoy it x

word count: 2,474

Originally posted by 2tiedships2

Y/N knew what she was getting into when she first started dating Harry. She knew that his job would often take him away from her, whether it was because he had to go on tour or due to late hours at the studio. She could take that. I mean, both Y/N and Harry were doing a pretty good job so far. A long distance-relationship wasn’t going to fail them, now. Right?

Harry had been on tour with the boys countless times before and it never really got in their way. But all because they compromised. 

Compromise.

Had it depended on the occurrence in which both of them would sacrifice bits and bits of their days now, Y/N would’ve forgotten what the word means long ago.

At late hours like these, in the dead of night, when she’s lying wide awake in bed, are the best timing for her thoughts to creep in, and as much as she doesn’t want them roaming around her head, they already settled a home up in there.

She reminisces the times when they’d both stay awake longer than usual — or wake up earlier than supposed to — just so they could talk and see each other as much as possible through video-calls. She reminisces the times when she hadn’t a worry in the world about where their relationship was leading to. She reminisces the times when it still felt like he was putting effort into communicating and contacting her while he was away, just as much as she was. But most importantly, she reminisces the times when she still felt like he was there with her, no matter how far he actually was.

But now that Y/N looks back at how it used to be and where they are now, she can’t help but feel as though someone just ripped her heart open and out of her chest.

The frequent and recurrent calls and texts here and there during her day began to become scarce when compared to the early days in their relationship. Texts that were always replied to, once he had the chance to write back a quick response, turned into hers always being the last sent and with the ‘Read’ tag underneath. What once was a continual exchange of ‘i love you’s barely happened anymore. Perhaps because they forgot or simply didn’t have the time to do so.

And eventually, he almost completely stopped trying to reach out to her. And when he did, it’d often be just a text telling her how busy he was and how he wouldn’t be able to talk to her later on in the day. He was tired. And so was she. For different reasons, of course. Clearly, he wasn’t aware of how much this whole situation was taking a toll on her.

However, it wasn’t as severe as it sounds. It’s not as if he completely forgot about her existence. He loved her too. He really did. But the pressure and hard-work mixed together wasn’t exactly the best combination, sometimes — specially at times like these. Harry knew this wasn’t an excuse because as much as people claim to be too busy or too tired for something — or someone —, they can always make time for them if the effort is really there. He’d talk to her whenever he found the chance to but, somehow, it just wasn’t enough.

For instance, she never cared about how tired she felt. As much as she needed to practically hibernate due to all the pressure and stress her work was putting her through, she’d always wait up for him to call her, just so they could see each other’s faces and share even if just a few words. She waited. She was trying. And as much as she wished to admit Harry was trying too, the only response she got from him were simple and very direct texts explaining how he wouldn’t be able to FaceTime her tonight.

Y/N missed him. And she couldn’t shake off the feeling that he had given up on them. For what other reasons would he practically stop trying altogether?

Harry had been on tour for almost a year now and she felt like she couldn’t take it anymore.

Y/N loved him. She really did. But how was she supposed to carry on with their relationship if the effort he once put into it was long gone? Sure, they’d still Skype each other occasionally, but the distance —both physical and emotional— was too much for her.

Video-calls that used to last around 2 hours — all because the two of them wished to cherish as much as they could whenever they had the chance to see the other — turned into 15-minute chats. Comfortable silences that was once part of their relationship turned into nerve-wrecking silences for her — the thoughts and ways of how she’d break the silence were all her mind surrounded with. And with vague words exchanged here and there, they’d quickly end the call and retreat themselves back to bed.

Y/N was never one to demand the presence and affection of her boyfriend every living minute of their day, but she needed something back from him. She couldn’t be the only one trying and willing to make things work. She just wanted to feel him close whenever she had the chance.

The tension between the two of them was undeniable. And as much as Y/N tried to understand what had changed so abruptly, she couldn’t find any answers. They had just become… distant. It’s not as if they had been arguing or fighting lately, or having silly disagreements. It wasn’t any of that. And she wasn’t sure what it was, but the fact that things just suddenly and unexpectedly changed without a proper reason or cause, made this situation even sadder for her.

For some odd reason, the freedom she once felt to share everything with him was now almost non-existent. Y/N knew she could but she didn’t know how to. And that’s how she figured he felt too. Harry eventually caught up onto her change of demeanour towards him and even though he was apprehensive to ask her if she was okay, he still did, gladly. (Un)fortunately — he really couldn’t tell —, she always replied with the same words, telling him that ‘yeah, just stressed with work s’all’, or ‘I’m okay, why wouldn’t I be?’, and brush it off with a small laugh. They never sounded honest for him though, and he never pressed on those answers because if something was wrong, she’d let him now… Right?

Harry didn’t want it to be true but he thought that he knew the answer to the ‘why wouldn’t I be okay?’ Y/N always pulled on him. He was well aware that they were distant and even awkward around each other at this point and he absolutely hated it. Harry knew she was not okay and he had a feeling that it was partly his fault. But he couldn’t know if she didn’t talk to him. Was he supposed to just brush it off or second-guess each time she said it?

It was bound to happen that her walls would cave down on her eventually—she just hoped it would have taken longer than this.

“Hello, love”, Harry greeted as soon as she answered his Skype call. She looked exhausted.

“Hey”, Y/N returned simply, not making direct eye-contact with him.

“Everything okay? You okay, love?”, he tentatively asked her, hoping for a real answer this time.

“’course I am. Why wouldn’t I b-”, she was immediately cut off.

“Love-”, he sighed. “Y/N… C’mon, talk to me. What’s in your mind? You don’t seem okay”. Harry was hopeful she’d give him something this time. After all, hope was all he had left.

“Harry- I don’-”, she let out a huff. “I don’t want to talk about it, okay?”

“But you know it’s not healthy to bottle up emotions, love. I’m here for you, you know that, don’t you?”

“No. Harry. I don't”, Y/N snapped.

“What? I’m always here for you-”

“Now, is that true, Harry?!”, she cut him off. She couldn’t keep her facade up for much longer. “You barely call or text me anymore! And I get to see you, what?! Once a week through a computer screen?! You don’t even put effort into us anymore! How would I be okay knowing you’re giving up on this relationship?! Tell me!”, Y/N was agitated to the extreme right now; her voice was loud and her cheeks were flushing up a bit—something that happened when she felt uneasy. She just wanted him to understand her side of the story. He might’ve been oblivious to it but she needed him to understand.

“Hey, hey, hey, now! Don’ put all the blame on me! You know damn well that I’m tired too! Sorry if I can’t exactly be right there at this moment to kiss your feet, princess! You know how my job works!”, Harry shot back. He might’ve felt bad and guilty when she started talking but after she accused him of such things, he wasn’t going to have it.

“You’re not denying it. God, I’m so stupid…”. Having a bad thought is something, but having someone somewhat confirm it goes to a whole new level. Harry wasn’t denying it. He was, indeed, giving up on them. Y/N’s mind was racing as she received what she thought was her reality-check.

“Y/N…”, he was strangely calm this time. Something was definitely up.

“Oh, so now you’ve got something to say?!”, she spat at him once again and if he was just previously coming down to his senses again, he wasn’t anymore. Her attitude was getting straight to his nerves.

“You know what? Just go straight to the point, yeah? I know what you’re doing here. Might as well just rush things up, no? I got better things to do…”

“Wow, Harry. Wow, really?! You don’t think that discussing this relationship is important?”, Y/N incredulously asked him, not waiting for a response.

“I didn’t say tha-”

“Well, you didn’t have to. I might just do you a favor and rush things up for you, yeah?!”, she huffed, mocking his previous words. “I can’t do this with you anymore. Clearly, you don’t give a shit about this so I might as well just end it, yeah?”. Y/N’s voice was slightly shaky but she managed to cover it up with a cough. She wasn’t sure if she had exploded way too suddenly and quickly in the course of their conversation but this was the least of her problems right now. She was literally breaking up with him.

“So you’re breaking up with me?!”. It was Harry’s turn to be stunned now. “You said I was the one giving up on us, but look at you now! Are we really not worth the fight for you?!”

“Oh, don’t put this all on me, Harry! You know damn right you gave up on us long ago! I’m just doing us both a favor ending this vicious cycle we’re in!” Y/N yelled, following with a sniffle and a sudden change in the room. It was quiet. None of them dared to say anything else at this moment. She had tears pricking at her eyes, begging to run free across her cheeks — but she wasn’t going to allow them. At least not now.

Vicious cycle? Is that really what you think this is- is that really what you thing we are? This could be nothing but a rough patch for all we know and you’re literally just throwing it all away?!”, Harry couldn’t believe the words he just came in contact with. How dare she say that?

“You know what?! I’m done arguing. Goodbye, Harry. I hope you have a great life!”

And just like that, Y/N ended the call and as much as Harry tried to be fast enough to stop her, his screen went blank and she was gone.

Right after she shut her laptop close, she broke into sobs. Did she make the right choice? Was there any chance left for them?

It wasn’t exactly an easy breakup — if you could even call it that. Y/N was aware of the words exchanged just now but she didn’t really feel as though as they were broken up. I mean, it’s Harry we’re talking about here. They’ve been together for the past two years and their relationship literally ended through a video-call.

It just didn’t seem… real. None of them got any closure. She literally shut the argument close, leaving both herself and Harry as confused as they could be.

Y/N knew what she was bound to do the next few days: grieve their relationship. Saying she was happy throughout their journey together was at least minimizing it all down to one word. There was no way she could describe what their love and connection felt like.

Both of them said things they didn’t mean. But was it worth going back on her words and apolozing? The pain that was unintentionally inflicted on her due to the distance and lack of contact with Harry was enough to bring her mind right back to where it was, in the first place. But, isn’t small contact better than none?

She was so stunned by the episode that just occurred that she didn’t even think about how Harry was feeling right now. Was he happy? Relieved that they were done? Sad? Shaken up?

And that’s how her next few days were spent: with her battling against her mind to give her some peace and with questions practically swimming around her mind — questions to which she had no intentions to finding the answers to.

Whenever, Y/N finds herself in hard situations, like a breakup, for example, she likes to be alone. She simply felt utterly lost and helpless — even though there was nothing simple about these two emotions.

She had to face the fact that she was now on her own and figure out a way to overcome Harry and hers breakup. Y/N had never loved someone as much as she did him and moving on would be complicated and perhaps even challenging. Might as well try to start now already, no?

Her trace of thought was immediately interrupted by a loud knock at her door, making Y/N huff in annoyance and get up from her lying position on the couch.

As she was making her way to the door, the person she missed most spoke on the other side of it, making her halt every movement she had — including her breathing.

“Y/N, love, please open up?”

part 2? yes? no? let me know! x

thank you for reading x

Masterlist

anonymous asked:

what are some things you wished had happened on the show before lexa died? i don't mean just clexa moments, but like, developments for her as a character

i have so many 

  • Lexa interacting with her people and how that plays out in times of peace? I would have loved to see her go down into the marketplace, or even just sit on her throne and listen as her people came to her with issues, complaints and disputes
  • more depth regarding the spiritual role of the commander–I would have liked to see her during a ceremony or a holiday or celebration or something? fulfilling some sort of role? (Well we got a TINY BIT with the wanheda ceremony and ascension day but it should’ve been more)
    • Lexa teaching Clarke about grounder culture, lore, and legends.
    • Or teaching her nightbloods and Clarke sitting in. 
  • Lexa and her handmaidens! I feel like the Handmaidens were alluded to multiple times but we didn’t see them.  
    • And I wanna see them bathing her but that’s just fanservice for me,,,
  • Lexa flashbacks! I wanna know what the fuck they alluded to with her and Queen Nia??? Roan implied that Nia wasn’t the only one in the wrong but the show just dropped it after that line? What comparable shit did Lexa do? Also I wanted to know more about Costiaaaa
    • also her family? either flashback or meeting them in person. 
  • Lexa Going To War in like. a Real War vs. the ice nation, and I wanted to see her in a Real Battle, not CoL garbage.
  • Also Wounded Lexa. like a serious wound but she survives it. 
  • LAUGHING i wanted to see her laughing for real?
  • Honestly just Lexa establishing a legacy of peace for her people and being remembered for it; being able to create a cooperative society for all of the grounder groups 
  • An episode opening with her and Clarke in bed together in the morning, like I’ve seen Thousands of Times for straight ppl
  • Speaking of Clarke their entire s3 arc about forgiveness and falling in love again should have been stretched out over the entire season
  • And personally I think Lexa’s whole head vs heart arc should’ve stretched out longer into season 3 as well; she’s had a lifetime of being taught that love is weakness…. and then pretty much all the development regarding that happened offscreen in the three month gap? no. I want more. 
  • More scenes blurring Lexa & The commander
    • We got some scenes of her being Vulnerable when she was in Heda mode in s2 but I want more
    • BUT ALSO LIKE
    • Lexa with her hair loose, in her nightgown/pajamas kicking ass? pinning an assassin down and holding a knife to his throat?
    • Or an attack on Polis happening while she’s sleeping and she doesn’t have time to change, just charging out of the room in her pajamas snarling orders at people. Sitting in her throne with her hair loose, wearing a tank top in shorts or The Nightgown™ holding a sword across a lap or a dagger in her hand interrogating one of the other leaders or strategizing 
  • Lexa with her hair in one loose braid draped over her shoulder. just cuz she’d look pretty. 
  • LEXA DURING WINTER - all draped in furs and cloaks with snow glittering in her hair 
  • Lexa in the Polis Tower Library 
  • Lexa hunting 
  • Lexa eating tbh 
  • fffff Lexa deserved to say “I love you” to Clarke. Her entire arc was about love being weakness and then love being strength; for her to not even be allowed to say “I love you” to Clarke, to verbalize that, was really disappointing and pretty glaringly obvious considering what a huge part in her character arc that was? Like not only do I think she deserved to say it for the sake of their relationship because I love Clexa, but she deserved to say it simply for herself and her own development as well. 
  •  I wish she had been thrown from power as the commander, survived, and have to go on a campaign to regain her throne; learning how to navigate the world in order to get shit done when she doesn’t have Incredible Authority Over Everyone and An Army At Her Back. 

i’m sure i’ll think of more but that will do for now