VOLTRON DRABBLE

Kid AU: Pillow Fort and First Kiss-
When the rooms of the 5 paladins had become ovens of heat from the summer, they had all migrated to the living room. The only rooms with an AC being Allura’s room, Coran’s and the living room. With the abundance of blankets and pillows from all 5 rooms they began to make the fort.
Lance had started on the right with Keith, both trying to outdo each other. They didn’t make any head room until Shiro had stepped in from arranging the chairs for support. Pidge and Hunk took to building the left side, getting done before the others.
When the fort was done they all crawled in with their blankets, pillows, and stuffed lions. Rearranging to sit in a circle they told ghost stories, joked off, and finally played truth or dare.
When it finally got to Keith’s turn he let out a sigh of annoyance. Of course Lance would be the one to ask him.
“Okay, Truth or Dare… I bet you’re too scared to do a dare”
“Fine! Dare.”
“Okay, Mullet, I dare you to…kiss the cutest person here!”
Lance was smirking at Keith, waiting for him to lean over and peck him on the cheek, with the rest of the group sitting in silence. They were all waiting for Keith’s reaction.
With a shrug, Keith leaned over and pecked Shiro instead, causing the older boy to blush. When Keith finally moved back into his spot his face was red and he fiddled with his red plush lion. Shiro was blankly staring at a blanket hanging off a chair, a blush spreading across his face. Pidge and Hunk gawked openly at Keith and Shiro. Lance on the other hand had to practically sit on his hands to stop himself from strangling Keith.
Keith’s first kiss was supposed to be with Lance, not Shiro. But Lance’s first kiss would be with Keith.

Second prompt chosen by @fjuri-the-fury taken from this post by @ghostling: “Don’t be fucking rude”


“Christie!” Steve said excitedly, not believing what he was seeing. She had changed a lot – well, twenty plus years will do that to a person – but he’d recognize that long blond hair, freckles and deep blue eyes anywhere. “It’s so good to see you!” He moved to hug her, huge smiles on both their faces.

“It’s good to see you, too, Stevie.” Christie hugged him back and for a second he was back in his childhood home – okay, fair enough, he still lived in the same place, but it’d felt a lot different back then – playing on the street until nightfall, until his mother came to call him inside to go take a shower and have dinner.

“What are you doing here?” Steve pulled back but didn’t let go of her, holding her by the arms, as if she’d disappear if he put too much distance between them.

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Ritsu and Banshe was kissing since Ritsu was little. One day Banshe fuckt up somethink and Ritsu was very sad and mad. As sorry Banshe tell that she will do for Ritsu what she want. Ritsu ask for date, so Banshe have to do that. They was at cinema and in shops. When sun was going down they went to parck to have a picnink. Ritsu see that the lote of coupels was kissing, she ask  Banshe what they do, and why, so Banshe explain her everythink and not so good not so bad she say taht this is what people who really like eatothers do on a DATE, and the word “date” is the key word. Ritsu say that if that’s what people do on date they shoude do that too. And it was they first kiss since Ritsu was 4. That was they “first” reall kiss. Since that Banshe really must controle herself, and Ritsu too, but not in the same whay that Banshe do, Ritsu want a really passion kiss, but Banshe was atractive of somethink eals, of sex of corse. 

Ritsu belong to @mimijammy

Banshe belong to me

“You’re not my brother.”

One moment Castiel had been gazing out of the Impala’s window, calm and at ease as he watched trees, and houses, and the other cars that were passing by. The next, Dean broke their comfortable silence to drop a bomb that instantly made Castiel feel nauseous and cold, his head turning so fast that it made him feel dizzy as he looked at Dean. 

All of these feelings, emotions that should be entirely too human for an angel to even feel them, were an unpleasant reminder of how far Castiel had fallen for this man. Dean’s eyes weren’t on the road, they were already on Castiel, and as soon as he had Castiel’s attention, he elaborated.

“I said that to you, a while ago, that you were our brother. It was a lie, Cas.”

He remembered it, them having a similar moment in this very car, just the two of them. It was months ago, at a time when the end of the world had seemed closer than on the average day. And even though Castiel’s feelings for Dean undoubtedly crossed the line of ‘brothers’, in Dean Winchester’s book, that was the most important title that someone could earn. Which is why Castiel had tried to ignore his disappointment at the term, because it at least meant that Dean cared deeply about him, and the angel could appreciate that for what it was.

But to hear him taking it back now, supposedly because the world hadn’t ended and Dean had only said it because he’d wanted to make Castiel feel better at the end of everything… That was possibly more agonizing than being stabbed with an angel blade.

“I see. I understand, Dean.” Castiel replied, almost mechanically, attempting to turn off his emotions, not wanting to give away how much this was truly affecting him. “You assumed that we were all going to die soon, and you saying it was a source of comfort for me back then, even if it isn’t true.”

Dean slammed the brakes so abruptly that Castiel had to hold on to his seat, then parked the car at the side of the road.

Castiel stared at him, wide-eyed. Dean was staring right back, conflict in his eyes, indicating that he was fighting some kind of internal battle.

“Look man, if I’m not going to say it now, I will never say it.” Dean muttered after a brief silence, speaking to himself rather than addressing Castiel, closing his eyes for a moment and taking a deep breath before looking Castiel in the eye again. “You’re not my brother, because you’re… You’re something else.”

“Your friend.” Castiel supplied coolly, not sure where this conversation was going. “I hope you at least consider me a friend.”

“Yes, of course I do!” Dean blurted out loudly, his tone bordering on hysteric. “Don’t ever think that you’re not my friend, or not part of the family. Sam thinks of you as his brother, it’s just that for me you’re also… You’re it. For me… You’re it. ”

Castiel blinked at Dean, stunned. Dean blinked back, not moving either. Did Dean mean…

“Oh…” Castiel whispered, praying that he wasn’t reading this wrong. “You mean I’m… it?”

Dean nodded, looking nothing short of relieved, those eyes that Castiel admired lighting up. “Yeah…”

“So by it, you mean…” Castiel didn’t finish that thought, but timidly reached for Dean’s hand.

When Dean welcomed it, calloused fingers covering Castiel’s slender ones, the angel cracked a smile.

“I’m not your brother.” He stated, his eyes never straying, holding Dean’s.

With a gentle smile, Dean leaned closer, experimentally pecking Castiel on the lips once he was close enough. Castiel rewarded him with a peck of his own, right at the corner of Dean’s mouth.

Dean smirked, already crawling to Castiel’s side of the car.

“No, Cas. You’re not.”

Dear Diarist

High school AU where Dean finds a diary, and it just so happens to contain his name - and details of the mystery writer’s intense crush on him. But Dean’s also got a crush… it’s too much to hope for that the diarist is Castiel, right?

happy birthday to @destieldrabblesdaily!!! love you Shirley <3

(read here on AO3 if you prefer!)

Dear Diary,

I think I’m a ghost. No one ever seems to see me at all.

Dean frowned, staring down at the first page of the book that he’d found on top of the lockers, pushed back out of sight. He’d never have found it at all, if Sam hadn’t taken his Physics textbook and hidden it up there, just to show off that he was taller than Dean now.

I don’t talk to anyone and no one talks to me. It’s not that they don’t like me, it’s that they don’t seem to see me at all. I swear I really am a ghost.

Dean stopped reading, frowning. Was this supposed to be an actual diary, or some kind of story? He checked the front cover of the book for a name, a clue to whom it might belong - but found nothing. He opened it up again.

One day, I think I’m just going to stand up and walk right out of class. And no one will even look up. I’m going to walk out of class and never come back and not one person at this school will miss me. And I won’t miss any of them, either. Except…

Dean leaned back against his locker and flipped the page, his attention caught. He wondered briefly whether he should stop reading - but then he got a glimpse of the next few words, and his curiosity escalated out of control.

… there is one boy. Dean Winchester, his name is Dean Winchester. 

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“What is it?” Alec said.

“Never kissed anyone?” Magnus said. “No one at all?”

“No,” said Alec, hoping this didn’t disqualify him from being datable. “Not a real kiss —”

“Come here.” Magnus took him by the elbows and pulled him close. For a moment Alec was entirely disoriented by the feeling of being so close to someone else, to the kind of person he’d wanted to be close to for so long. Magnus was long and lean but not skinny; his body was hard, his arms lightly muscled but strong; he was an inch or so taller than Alec, which hardly ever happened, and they fit together perfectly. Magnus’ finger was under his chin, tilting his face up, and then they were kissing. Alec heard a small hitching gasp come from his own throat and then their mouths were pressed together with a sort of controlled urgency. Magnus, Alec thought dazedly, really knew what he was doing. His lips were soft, and he parted Alec’s expertly, exploring his mouth: a symphony of lips, teeth, tongue, every movement waking up a nerve ending Alec had never known he had.

He found Magnus’ waist with his fingers, touching the strip of bare skin he’d been trying to avoid looking at before, and slid his hands up under Magnus’ shirt. Magnus jerked with surprise, then relaxed, his hands running down Alec’s arms, over his chest, his waist, finding the belt loops on Alec’s jeans and using them to pull him closer. His mouth left Alec’s and Alec felt the hot pressure of his lips on his throat, where the skin was so sensitive that it seemed directly connected to the bones in his legs, which were about to give out. Just before he slid to the floor, Magnus let him go. His eyes were shining and so was his mouth.

“Now you’ve been kissed,” he said, reached behind him, and yanked the door open. “See you Friday?”

Alec cleared his throat. He felt dizzy, but he also felt alive — blood rushing through his veins like traffic at top speed, everything seemingly almost too brightly colored. As he stepped through the door, he turned and looked at Magnus, who was watching him bemusedly. He reached forward and took hold of the front of Magnus’ t-shirt and dragged the warlock toward him. Magnus stumbled against him, and Alec kissed him, hard and fast and messy and unpracticed, but with everything he had. He pulled Magnus against him, his own hand between them, and felt Magnus’ heart stutter in his chest.

He broke off the kiss, and drew back.

“Friday,” he said, and let Magnus go. He backed away, down the landing, Magnus looking after him. The warlock crossed his arms over his shirt — wrinkled where Alec had grabbed it — and shook his head, grinning.

“Lightwoods,” Magnus said. “They always have to have the last word.”

He shut the door behind him, and Alec ran down the steps, taking them two at a time, his blood still singing in his ears like music.

—  Cassandra Clare Extra

Happy New Year to all Destiel shippers! I hope 2016 will bring you lots of love and happiness!

“So… Any new year’s resolutions, Cas? Anything you wanna make sure to do next year?”

Dean grinned at his best friend, fingers toying with his beer bottle. The conversation was easy, light. Sam had disappeared into the kitchen moments ago, getting them another round of beers and some snacks. It was the most basic way to celebrate New Year’s Eve; just the three of them in the bunker, watching some TV and having a drink. In all honesty, Dean wouldn’t trade it for the world.

Blue eyes blinked at Dean from the other end of the couch, full of thought for a moment, but then Cas smiled gently. He looked oddly ruffled without the bulky overcoats; top button of his white shirt undone, tie loose. It made Dean light in the head in a way that he couldn’t possibly blame on the two beers that he’d had.

“As a matter of fact, there’s something…” Castiel mused out loud, putting down his own now empty bottle.

“Oh?” Dean pried, curious as to what was on Cas’ to-do-list. “Wanna share with the class?”

Several heartbeats passed before the angel shifted, angling his body so that he was actually facing Dean, suggesting that he was about to tell something of great significance, a secret perhaps.

“In the year 2016, I want to finally find the courage to kiss the one that I have feelings for.” He stated confidently, as if he hadn’t just dropped a huge bomb.

Dean, who had been in the middle of taking a sip, coughed up his beer at that revelation. There was a sudden hollow feeling in his gut. Cas wanted to kiss someone. Cas had feelings for someone. And Dean didn’t like that idea one bit.

Truth be told, it was Dean’s own fault. His own fault for being a coward and never having the balls to talk to the angel about what the deal was with the two of them. Naturally, Castiel would move on once the right person showed up. Nonetheless, it hurt Dean more than he had anticipated, and by now he didn’t doubt that he looked absolutely crestfallen, but he couldn’t even be bothered to keep his face in check.

He knew that this was his cue to be a good friend and ask who the lucky person was, and support Cas, telling him to go for it. Before Dean could do either of those things, Castiel’s heavy sigh put an end to Dean’s mental debate.

“You are unbelievable, Dean Winchester.” The angel muttered, rolling his eyes, almost as if mocking Dean.

In a blink, Castiel scooted closer to Dean until their knees were an inch from touching. Much slower, he leaned in until they were practically nose to nose. Dean swallowed at their close proximity, but in the back of his mind a very hopeful voice was cheering at this new development. Shit, did Cas mean…

The answer was found in Cas’ soft lips against Dean’s, meeting in the middle, Dean tugging on Cas’ tie to pull him as close as possible as they tasted each other for the first time. As their mouths moved in sync, Dean realized that they should’ve done this years ago. Oh well, better late than never.

They hastily broke apart at the sound of Sam clearing his throat. Dean could feel a blush spread from his cheeks to the tips of his ears as they both looked up, shooting Sam matching apologetic glances.

Sam however, just shrugged as he handed them their beers, lips twitching into a smirk.

“You two couldn’t wait until midnight, huh? Figures.”

Dean’s blush was soon replaced by a smug grin, his hand shyly reaching for Cas’ knee. Hell yeah, 2016 was going to be awesome.

For @sterekfluffer who has been having a rough week. Here, have some fluff and slow dancing <3</p>

“Don’t tell me you’re sad you’re not dancing,” Derek snorts, handing Stiles some punch, sitting down beside him.

Stiles shrugs, looking out at the sea of couples slow dancing. They look happy. “It’s prom. I feel like I’m missing out.”

“Prom is a stupid tradition,” Derek says.

Stiles shrugs again. “’Suppose,” he whispers, trying to ignore the lump forming in his throat.

Derek’s his best friend. This isn’t how it was supposed to turn out. Stiles had had a plan. He was supposed to fall for someone else. He was supposed to be happy at the thought of Derek finding someone, tease him, help him. Be a good bro. What he was not supposed to do was imagine what it would be like to hold Derek’s hand, or think about what it would feel like waking up to him every morning for the rest of their lives.

He had one fucking job.

“I can’t dance anyway,” he says, trying for a smile. “I’d just embarrass myself.”

He waits for the smart remark, keeping his eyes focused in front of him- trying to keep it together- but when nothing comes, Stiles forces himself to look at Derek’s face. It’s hard to tell what Derek is thinking most of the time, even for him, and Stiles has known Derek since, well, always. Stiles’ first memory of Derek is his earliest one; they were sitting together, watching The Little Mermaid. Derek cried when Ariel’s dad shouted at her and Stiles gave him his wolf plushy to make him feel better. Derek still denies it to this day, but a fond look always comes over him when his eyes catch the wolf sitting on Stiles’ bookshelf.  

“Fine,” Derek sighs, breaking the memory, standing back up and holding his hand out. Stiles looks at it. “I know you. You’re going to make me watch some cheesy romantic comedy with dancing in it tomorrow after school so you can, I don’t know, live vicariously through it or something.” He cocks his head in the direction of the dance floor. “So, I am going to give you to the count of two-”

“Aren’t you meant to give me at least three seconds?” Stiles can’t help but interrupt, because really, who just gives two-

“Is that a no?” Derek asks and, just a moment, Stiles thinks he almost looks disappointed.

As if.

Stiles really must have it bad.

“No- I mean, yes. Yes, I want to,” Stiles stammers out, taking Derek’s outstretched hand. He’s not normally the nervous type, he’s not shy anyway, but suddenly he feels sick. His body is shaking, he knows it is, but before he can pull himself together long enough to turn around and run- because that’s what he should do- Derek is pulling him in by the waist, pulling Stiles flush against him.

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