his face explains it all

You know, come to think of it - The Stan Twins really are dressed into color schemes that… I’d almost say don’t quite match their personalities?

Here, look at them with me here for a sec. This is not just an excuse to look at them either. Which, I know nothing about color theory, so that’s not really what I’m talking about. 

-Stan’s outfit: Practically all black, with very little points of white, red and brown.
-Ford’s outfit: Mostly beige and red, and about half dark colors.

Black can generally be off-putting and well - think about Robbie, another character who wears all black. Goth aesthetic aside, I’d say it fits with his aloof and closed off nature. Then that beige is definitely lighter and… I’d almost say more ‘pleasant’ a color. 

This is veering into personal opinion, but it’s like the lighter color scheme is more welcoming and ‘open’ as opposed to the all black. 

Which, although both characters are multi-faceted and everything - please don’t ever get me wrong on that - I’d say Stan has the more welcoming personality where Ford is in general more closed off, at least upon first impressions.

We have also briefly seen both of them in their opposite color schemes though.

-Ford in all black.

-Then Stan in a beige/red color scheme.

BUT okay like you see what I mean? These colors… I’d dare say fit their personality types more. The tan/beige and red of Stan’s outfit aligns with his more open personality whereas the black of Ford fresh out of the portal is fittingly ominous with the dramatic situation he arrived in. Although, as a whole, does also fit the aloof loner he was initially presented as.

This set of brief moments isn’t the only time we see them in these sort of color schemes though!

May I present, the good young boys:

In my opinion, the color schemes (and outfits) they have as kids perfectly fit their personalities of that moment. 

Fun and adventurous with the vivid colors of Stan’s shirt, and Ford’s partially dark covering himself while mostly still having lighter colors - not entirely closed off, but still almost protective in a way.

It just- It’s hard to explain, but it fits them.

I think this can be attributed in part to how each twin presents, or maybe even the unintentional nature within themselves.

For example, despite Stan being a conman dealing with customers he still has since develop a lot of closed off traits such as his gruff demeanor. Where Ford still has this very innate openness to people and interacting with them despite the serious mission constantly in mind and his behavior which he often goes against with his own actions.

There’s also something that could be said for the Sea Grunks outfit which has them wearing a pretty even balance of colors or Stan’s outfit change to the pink sweater when they’re saying goodbye to Mabel and Dipper. I could make a whole post about Stan wearing that sweater from Mabel actually, there’s a ton to say about that.

more universe swap ideas:

Sidney and Geno are dating, but one day they have an argument. Maybe it’s over a dumb penalty one of them took, and Sidney is chewing Geno out for it, and that led to Geno accusing Sidney caring more about hockey than their relationship. Sidney is mad enough to be in tears (how could Geno ever think that of him?) as he storms off to their bedroom and slams the door shut, and Geno is still pissed so he sleeps on the couch.

Then Geno wakes up in a universe where not only does he still play for the Pens, he’s the captain. But Sidney is nowhere to be seen. In fact, no one’s ever heard of Sidney Crosby. He begins to panic.

“You just fuck with me now,” Geno says to Flower. Tanger and some of the rookies give him a nervous look. “No, really, where Sid. Not funny anymore.”

“We don’t know who that is, G,” Phil says. “Really.”

He’s about to have a panic attack when the Pens PR suddenly come up and ask if he’s ready to go deliver the season tickets. Geno, in a daze, lets him kind of guide him wherever, and soon he’s on his way, with the team and the Pens admin, to a little suburban house. 

Geno does not want to deliver tickets, but he knocks and he’s ready to kind of shove the tickets at them and leave. Then the door opens and–

“Oh my God,” Sidney says. He’s in jeans and a Malkin jersey, but it’s Sid, his Sidney, not missing or dead and oh God, he’s right here. “You’re Evgeni Malkin. You actually came.”

“Sid,” Geno whispers. 

He’s about to pull Sidney in for a kiss when a little boy peeks out from behind Sidney’s leg. “Dad, that’s Geno,” the boy says in wonder.

Geno watches, stunned, as Sidney picks up the boy and kisses his cheek. “This is my son,” Sidney says, smiling broadly. “Come in, come in–”

And Geno is led into this bizarro world where he meets Sidney’s fucking husband, the rest of the kids, Taylor, and Sidney’s parents, and he has to pretend that he isn’t losing it watching his boyfriend live a suburban life. Apparently, in this universe, Sidney had not played hockey after Shattuck. He went to university in Pittsburgh, married his college sweetheart (the football captain, to be exact. He’s handsome and tall and friendly, and it’s clear that he adores Sidney. Geno hates him immediately), has three kids with him who all adore the Penguins, and teaches at the local elementary school. And it’s breaking his heart watching Sidney live this perfect life, and knowing that he has no part in it.

anyways i want those angsty movie scenes where Geno keeps asking Sidney out on not-dates. It’s getting late, and Geno’s driving Sidney back home after yet another dinner.

“Sid, wait,” Geno says, as Sidney’s unbuckling his seat belt. Sidney looks at him in question. “Don’t go yet.”

“I still have some papers to grade–”

Geno covers Sidney’s hand with his, in one bold, sudden move. “Please don’t go.”

Sidney looks stunned, then pained. “Geno,” Sidney says softly. “Geno, I think I know what this is.”

“Sid, please–”

“I have a family,” Sidney says. “You’ve been–you’re an incredible hockey player–and–and a wonderful friend, I mean–you’re Evgeni Malkin–”

“I love you,” Geno says.

Sidney bristles. “I’m going home, Geno,” he says coldly. “Good night–”


“Let go–”

“I’m show–” Geno fumbles with his phone, which miraculously had all the photos from his world. Photos of his Sidney kissing his cheek, of them lazing around after workouts, Geno and Sidney’s happiest moments. 

He presses play on a random video, startling Sidney into freezing as in-video Sidney’s voice asks cheerily, “Geno, what should we do on your Cup day?” 

“You captain,” in-video Geno responds. “You decide.”

“But it’s your day,” in-video Sidney whines. “Really, we can do anything. I promise.”

“Okay. You be nice to me all day.”

“I’m always nice to you.”

“No nagging. More kisses.”

“I don’t nag!” in-video Sidney laughs, then kisses Geno’s nose. “I just want your day to be perfect.”

“Everyday perfect,” in-video Geno responds, stroking Sidney’s cheek, as the Sidney on the screen softens considerably. 

“How is this possible?” Sidney whispers, entranced by the video. “Wha–I don’t–”

“I told you,” Geno says tiredly. “I’m boyfriend in other world.”

Homewrecker Pt.3 (JJK)

Description: When you bring home a drunken friend from a party and meet his Father, Jeon Jungkook

Pairings: Jungkook x Reader ft Jimin?

Genre: Smut/Angst

Warnings: Sexual Content, mature language, underage relationship, mentions of drug use, age gap!!! THIS CHAPTER IS LITERALLY PURE FILTH LMAO ENJOY HOES


A/N: A lot of you were confused from reading the previous chapters. This chapter explains EVERYTHING. It’s best you read the other chapters before reading this one.

I also write on my wattpad account @allyxk

Originally posted by theking-or-thekid

creds to this gif ;)

Keep reading

Imagine Dean watching you take care of a baby and realizing he wants to have a family with you when it’s all over.

Originally posted by dean-sam-winchesterbros

“Aaaand- we’re done!” you grinned as you placed the small plate on the side and grinned down at the little puddle of happiness. The little baby girl giggled at you as you tickled her tummy.

“All clean and fed, aren’t you a happy little princess huh?” you grinned down at her as she squirmed happily in your arms, lifting her hands and legs as if reaching out to you. You chuckled as you picked her up.

You were on yet another case with Sam and Dean, when you realized that your witch was targeting innocent children of all ages. The baby you were holding as of now had just lot her mother who had decided to fight rather than let her daughter die. You had decided to take care of her until the case was over and you could find her father that, as the woman had said, happened to be out of town. There was no way you’d let her to the cops who would take her who knows where.

“Look at you-” you cooed at her “So pretty, you like your pink shirt? Dean picked it up for ya! Gotta admit, I never expected him to have such a good taste. Who knows, maybe you inspire him.” you winked at her as she giggled, bubblingand trying to say Dean’s name.

“I’ll try not to be offended at what you are actually implying.” came a voice behind you and without even having to turn you smirked.

“Oh you definitely shouldn’t!” you chuckled, picking up the little baby “The clothes you picked are pretty darn good!” you grinned at him as you turned with the little girl in your arms. Your smile flattered only for a split second as you saw a kind of emotion you could not understand wash over his face.

“Geez thanks.” he mumbled looking away and you giggled.

“No problem” you shrugged, looking back at the little girl “What? What is it little one?” you cooed at her once again, making a funny face at her and eliciting a giggle from her.

“Isn’t it amazing?” you asked Dean but still didn’t look at him “She’s always so happy… despite what has happened.” you added with a sad mumbled and heard him sigh.

“At least she has her father, hopefully he’s not going to change after-” he stopped himself and cleared his throat “Yeah”

You dared glance at him for a second and instantly felt the need wrap your arms around him and comfort him. It wasn’t as if things were any easier for him lately, even with Mary’s return. If anything, it seemed that he had one more worry to burden his shoulders.

“Hopefully” you mumbled as silence followed for a moment, but it was broken by the little girl bubbling at you and you couldn’t help a giggle “Besides- look at this beauty! Who could ever resist her?” you grinned down at her as she laughed.

“Yeah” he breathed out but this time you didn’t look up at him, too focused on the little girl in your arms to pay attention to anything else.

Maybe it was your instincts kicking in, you wouldn’t know since you didn’t have nor had thought of having children, but you were willing to make the most of your time with her. And while doing that you were willing to shower her with love and make her as happy as she could be.

“What? What little princess?” you giggled at her as played with your necklace, a gift from Dean on one of your birthday’s “You like the necklace?” you chuckled and she giggled.

“It’s a gift.” you said with a grin “Hey!” you chuckled as she pulled on it alone with some of your hair “Easy there little one.” you pushed her tiny hands away from you for a little “If you want to pull on some hair, we have Dean here for that!” you said and she giggled as you glanced at Dean who was glaring at you.

“What?” you chuckled “She wouldn’t be the first woman to, after all.” you shrugged and he scoffed with a roll of his eyes.

“Dah! Deh- D!” she bubbled and you giggled when she finally exclaimed and Dean himself couldn’t stop a chuckle from leaving his lips.

“She already adores you, unbelievable.” you laughed as you pushed a few short strands of hair out of her face. Although it was not all that hard to believe considering you had such a soft spot for the older Winchester- well, it was much more than just that but you were scared to admit it even to yourself.

“Hey princess, want your stuffed bee?” you asked when you noticed her eyes were on the toy Castiel had brought her.

“Beeee!” she squealed and you laughed, grabbing the stuffed animal and waving it in front of her as she giggled, reaching out her hands with a small pout when she couldn’t reach for it as much as she’d like at least.

“Here” you giggled as she wrapped her tiny arms around it, a wide smile on her face. You chuckled kissing the top of her head, making her big green eyes look up at you in a second. They were so big an beautiful, adorned by long eyelashes that made your heart swell inside your chest.

“You love it a little too much don’t you?” you asked with a chuckle “Uncle Cas made a great choice too huh?” rubbed her tummy, making her laugh adorably. A laugh that cut short by a yawn leaving her lips, making you chuckle.

“Well, someone’s tired, aren’t you?” you chuckled “Come on, princess. Let’s get you to sleep.” you said as got up from your bed and walked towards her port bebe. It was the only thing you had for her to sleep. You tried taking the stuffed animal from her hands but whining she only tightened her grip around it.

“Or not.” you mumbled with a shake of your head, making sure as you got up that the shirt didn’t move much. Dean’s shirt by the way, because you were just too comfortable to take it off and you loved Dean’s smell a little too much.

“D!” she let a soft whine, reaching for something behind you and you turned to look at Dean that was still standing there, eyes almost wide as the little girl reached out for him.

“What? Want Dean to put you to sleep?” you smiled softly, looking between her and the hunter who seemed all the more nervous.

“D!” she exclaimed and you chuckled, looking at him.

“Come on, she wants you to hold her.” you said and he hesitated for a moment “Come on Dean, she won’t bite you.”

“But what if- what if she-” he stuttered, taking tentative steps towards you.

“What? Falls from your hands? Don’t be silly Dean. Alright, see-” you placed her down on your lap “Not hard. Now come here, because I see a crying feat coming if you don’t take her now.” you said a little sternly and he swallowed thickly, complying like a little kid.

“Just put your arms around her like this.” you said softly, guiding his hands so that he could hold her “Told you so, easy.” your hands rested on top of his holding her.

“She’s-” he started, eyes focused on her “She’s so beautiful.” he confessed and you smiled widely, nodding your head softly.

“She definitely is.” you whispered “Just look at her, staring up at you with so much adoration. I don’t know how you do this Winchester.”

“What can I say-” he chuckled “Chicks dig me.”

“Hmh” you hummed, subconsciously rubbing your thumb over his hand “That they do. Must be the charming smile.” you pointed out and he grinned almost shyly “It wins their heart over.”

“All of theirs?” he asked you, finally locking eyes with yours and for a second you frowned at what he could be really asking. But you didn’t have to question it as the little girl spoke up.

“D!” she jumped slightly and you chuckled as Dean’s eyes widened for a moment, scared she’d fall from his hands any given minute.

“Gosh you’d be an amazing father.” you whispered, tucking a few strands of hair out of her face; your eyes moving between her and the hunter.

“Not as much of a wonderful mother you’d be.” he confessed and you smiled shyly.

“I doubt it but thanks.” you mumbled and he gave you a look.

“You wouldn’t if you’d seen all the things I did today.” he confessed and your eyes locked with his, finally realization downing on you like a tone of bricks.

He had been watching you. His eyes had been focused on you the entire time, not the baby. At least not entirely the baby. He had been watching you acting all motherly with her, feeding her, changing het, putting her to sleep, playing with her and doing pretty much everything a new mother would. And all of that while wearing his clothes. All of it now was able to explain the look of nostalgia written all over his face and just why his eyes were glistening with unshed tears. He wanted all of this… with you.


Request: could you do one where Shawn and y/n are going to a party and Shawn gets jealous because people are flirting with her.


Your name: Submit What is this?

- - - -

“Wow.” Shawn says looking you up and down slowly, taking in your appearance. “Do a spin for me, Y/N.”

You blush and laugh at his request, “You want me to do a spin?” You hold the hem of your dress and spin around 3 times, which creates a breeze that makes the dress float high around you, “There you go.” Dizzily, you lean towards the wall and put out your hand to steady yourself and stop from falling over.

Shawn puts his arms around your waist and nuzzles his head into your neck. You feel his hand brush over your bare back, as the dress has a cut out section hidden there underneath your long straightened hair. He breathes in your scent, and you just stand there for a while treasuring this moment; before you have to leave to go to the party. He takes your hand and your fingers intertwine perfectly. You step in-sync down the stairs and then Shawn opens the door for you, “After you, beautiful.” He says grinning.

“Thank you.” You tell him, and then curtsy as a joke. Shawn’s Jeep Wrangler is parked on the drive of his family house right in front of you and you head towards it, walking quite carefully in your extremely high heels.

Shawn runs ahead of you, “Hold up, hold up!” He shouts, and reaches out to open the car door for you. “Okay, now get in!” He tells you.

Again, you laugh out loud and try to climb as gracefully as you can into the front seat of Shawn’s car. He walks around the front of the car, gives you a little baby wave and gets in the driver’s seat. Adjusting his seat and the car mirror, you ask him, “Why are you being like this?” You question him curiously whilst still giggling.

“I’m only treating you the way that you deserve to be treated.” Shawn responds, putting his hand on your thigh affectionately. He then backs out of the drive impressively quickly and gets onto the road.

Shawn always seems to know just the right thing to say. How does he do that? The whole journey there you both make jokes back and forth to each other and Shawn exchanges flirtatious glances with you. He pulls up to the house where the party is, and Shawn rapidly undoes his seatbelt and jogs around the front of car before you realise what he’s doing.

People in cars arriving nearby are looking in your car to see who has arrived, and Shawn opens your car door like a chauffeur. You get out of the car, and laugh at Shawn once again. “I love you, Shawn.” You say, and you put your hands on the sides of his face, lean in and kiss him. With these heels on, you’re now just slightly shorter than him which feels strange, but the kiss still holds the same feelings that it’s always had. Both of you aren’t too big on public displays of affection, so the kiss only lasts for a short time, and then Shawn wraps his arm around your waist and walks you in to the party.

“Hey, Y/N!” You hear someone shouting from the doorway of the house. It’s hard to see them in the partial darkness, but you recognise the sound of their voice. It’s Matt: your old friend from school that you haven’t seen for about 3 years.

Shawn takes his hand off of your waist which enables you to run forward slightly and hug Matt. “Oh my God! I can’t believe it! How are you?” You ask him happily.

Matt hasn’t changed one bit, and simply looking at him makes you feel nostalgic of the long days spent at school and just hanging out together along with the rest of your big group of friends. “I’m good, actually, better now that I’ve finally seen you again.” He replies, looking you up and down as Shawn did earlier.

“Hey, I’m Shawn.” Shawn holds out his hand as he comes over to where you’re standing in the doorway. Matt shakes his hand, “Y/N’s boyfriend.” He adds, trying to be subtle.

Looking shocked for a moment, Matt thinks hard and then it looks as though something then clicks in his mind, “Wait… I know you, I’ve seen your face before somewhere.” He tells Shawn.

Shawn smiles wryly to himself, “Um, maybe you saw me performing somewhere or in a magazine?” Matt looks at Shawn, and you can see the immense confusion as clear as day all over his face. “I’m Shawn Mendes.” He explains but still, there’s no reaction from Matt and you can see Shawn now becoming marginally infuriated. “I sing this song called Stitches? Or maybe you know Treat You Better? Mercy? There’s Nothing Holdin’ Me Back?” He crosses his arms and waits for a response.

“I’ve probably heard them before… but I don’t know them off the top of my head, sorry.” Matt replies, laughing softly in an attempt to break the awkward atmosphere that Shawn successfully created.

You take Shawn’s arm and move your head to gesture that you should move away. “It was really nice seeing you, Matt.” You say kindly, and you can feel his eyes still on you as you walk with Shawn to go and get a drink.

“What the hell was that? How have you changed so much in the last few minutes?” You ask him, raising your voice just a little bit so he knows that you’re serious.

He gazes at you and looks quite guilty as he shrugs, “I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me.” Shawn tells you, “I guess I’m a little… jealous.” He shrugs his shoulders and you’re stunned that he actually admitted this.

It’s cute really, but he does this a bit too often. Shawn just assumes that any guy you know wants to get with you, and he gets jealous when people have known you for longer than he has – even though your months so far dating have felt like forever. You can’t remember what it was like not being with Shawn, and you want him to understand that.

Shawn pours drinks out for you both, and you thank him with a smile. Someone calls out Shawn’s name from what sounds like the corner of the room, “Y/N, is it alright if I go and talk to them?”

You laugh incredulously, “You don’t need to ask me – do whatever you want to do. It’s cool.”

The moment Shawn walks away from you, a breeze tickles your back and lifts your hair up slightly. It’s not a breeze from an open window or door though. Someone brushed past you, and then turned their head back swiftly to look at you.

“I didn’t realise it was you!” Matt looks shocked, and he looks around cautiously to see if he can spot Shawn anywhere in sight. You guess that when he can’t see him nearby, he thinks it’s now okay for him to actually approach you and talk to you. He takes a big drink from his cup, “So what’s up with your boyfriend then?” He smiles, which means that he now just has the widest grin you’ve ever seen considering he was already smiling before he smiled again.

You take the tiniest sip of your drink, “I honestly have no idea, but he’s okay now don’t worry.” You reply, realising that for some unknown reason you feel slightly uncomfortable. Out of habit, you do exactly what you normally do in awkward situations: which is look down at the ground, keep shifting your feet and alternating the leg that you put most of your body weight on.

He’s still smiling. It’s a very big smile. “I wanted to say this earlier, but I don’t think it was a good time as we weren’t alone. But I truly believe, Y/N, that you are the most beautiful girl here and you look amazing tonight.”

Matt is very confident – he always has been. When you were younger and you were both very close friends, he used to tell you which girls he liked and asked if you thought that they liked him back. If you gave him an answer that even slightly hinted at a yes, he would go for it. Go straight up to the girl and let her know his thoughts and feelings. He didn’t care about rejection at all. He was just so brave and you admired that. You used to dream it would be you one day he liked, but you stayed as and never faltered from being the girl he asked for help from. You were never the target for his love. One day, you thought his confidence may tone down a little bit, but it seems that it has only increased with age as most things do.

“That’s very sweet of you to say, Matt.” You tell him, and you know instantly that he has no impact on you now. If Shawn had said that to you, you would have blushed. Hard. He may be trying to flirt, but you’re not willing to be swept off of your feet by anyone else but Shawn for a very, very long time.

Matt moves in closer, which makes you stiffen marginally. You’re extremely wary of what he might do, especially considering the fact that he’s been at this party for a lot longer than you have so he’s fairly drunk right now.

You feel another breeze on your back, but this time it’s so strong it feels more like a scratch than a tickle.

“Hey, whatever-your-name-is! I think you’ve probably been talking to my girlfriend for long enough now.” Shawn states firmly as he slides smoothly in between both of you thankfully. “I really fancy ordering a pizza and watching Harry Potter at home right now.”

Subtly, you give him a sweet smile that’s only for him. It shows you’re grateful that he’s back, that you never want him to leave again, and that you would absolutely kill for a pizza right now and watching Harry Potter sounds 10 times better than this party. “Speak to you again soon, Matt.” You say kindly.

“Call me yeah?” Matt winks directly at you, and you see Shawn’s jaw clench tightly. Surely he knows that I would never call another guy (especially one I’ve known for practically my whole life) to talk in that way?

Shawn puts his arm around you and pulls you in gently, but in a way you know is purposeful to show Matt who’s superior. He makes you feel safe, and you’d go anywhere with him.

Exactly as you were expecting, Shawn heads towards the front door that you came in through not long ago. He still has his drink in his hand though just as you do, so before you head out you both look at each other with a knowing glance, and simultaneously down the rest of your drinks.

“Woah.” You say whilst clenching up your face, as you finally taste how strong the drink is.

Shawn chuckles, “Sorry I forgot you had alcohol. I just have water.”

You put down your cup on the side and playfully punch his chest, “Ugh I hate you, Mendes.”

With an even bigger smile than Matt’s earlier, he replies softly, “I love you too.”

A/N: You can send me requests here.


Okay so this is inspired by my own experiences with migraines and what a friend told me aura migraines are like. The idea popped into my head an wouldn’t leave me alone. Let me know what you think?


As a Paladin of Voltron, Lance was familiar with pain. He’d been blown up, tossed around through space, and beaten up by the Galra, who weren’t known for holding back. Pain was a regular part of his job now. It had been since the beginning. And yeah, it hurt (duh!), but he’d learned to cope. Lance was pretty sure he could handle just about anything.

Except migraines.

To Lance, migraines were like a tsunami in his brain; a sudden, unstoppable wave of confusion and hurt that swept him away. He’d had them ever since he was a kid. If he was lucky, he would sense one coming on and take some advil before lying down in a dark room and trying to sleep through it. If he didn’t catch it in time, the pain could incapacitate for hours at best, days at worst. And once one hit, all he could do was wait it out and hope it ended quickly.


Lance was dozing on the couch with his arm over his eyes. It had been a long day of training, and he could feel a small ache forming behind his eyes. The lights were dimmed and the other paladins were at dinner, so he had some peace and quiet to himself. At least, he did, until the alarms sounded throughout the castle. Lance shot up, but immediately slouched forward as the pain behind his eyes sharpened and moved to his left temple.

“Fuck,” he muttered. “Not now!”

Lance slowly straightened up, pulled himself to his feet, and made his way to the hangar as quickly as he could. With each step, he felt the pain at his temple pulse and radiate out through his sinuses and down into his teeth. He felt the tendons in his neck grow tight as a burning sensation made its way from the base of his skull to his shoulders. By the time he made it to the hangar and into his Lion, he was fighting back waves of nausea.

“Lance where are you?” Shiro called over the intercom. “We need you out here!”

Lance swallowed hard and muttered through clenched teeth, “On my way!” Of all the times to get a migraine, he thought, it had to be now.

He felt Blue reach out in his mind, concerned, but he cringed and quickly limited his mental connection. With the pulsing in his head, the Blue Lion’s feelings were too much to handle and only made the pain worse.

“Sorry, Blue,” he whispered, “I can’t.”

Though he couldn’t hear her in his mind, he thought Blue must have understood because as soon as he wrapped his hands around the controls, she shot out of the hangar and into the fray. Three large war ships were converging on the Castle, firing shot after shot from their ion cannons. The particle barrier around the castle was shredded and the Lions couldn’t defend it separately. As soon as Lance was close to the rest of the Paladins, he heard Shiro shout.

“Form Voltron!”

Immediately Lance joined in the formation to form the giant robot. As each Lion joined together, Lance could feel an increase of pressure in his mind. His mental link to the rest of the Paladins and Voltron was closed off, but he needed it to open complete the formation. Lance closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and lowered the mental block.

The pain was overwhelming. He could feel Hunk, Pidge, Keith, Shiro, Blue, and even the other Lions in his head. It felt as if they were all pressing against his migraine, squashing it and condensing into a point of unbearable agony. There was nothing but the pain. He wasn’t aware that Voltron was formed. He wasn’t aware as they rest of Paladins piloted Voltron and destroyed the warships. He wasn’t aware that he was screaming in pain through it all. He couldn’t hear the shouts of concern and panic from the others as they listened, but could do nothing.

After what seemed like hours, Voltron separated. The pressure lessened in Lance’s head and he exhaled a great sigh of relief. The migraine lessened to something he could manage as his senses came back to him. He could feel the controls tight in his grip, the tears streaming down his face, the raw ache in his throat. He could hear his own heavy breathing and his teammates, desperately calling out to him. He could taste blood in his mouth, and it vaguely occurred to him that he had a nosebleed. Slowly he blinked his eyes open and looked around.


Lance blinked again, shook his head, and opened his eyes once more.

Still nothing.

He couldn’t see.

He couldn’t see!

Lance pulled his helmet off and scrabbled at his face, feeling for blood or cuts, something to explain his blindness. But all he felt were his own features. No damage. His breathing escalated as he kept feeling around and waving his hands in front of his eyes.

“I can’t see,” Lance whispered. “Guys I can’t see! I can’t see, I can’t see anything! I can’t–”  his voice raised to a panicked shout and he continued to hypervenitlate. He could hear shouting, but he couldn’t figure out what the others were saying.

“Lance!” Hunk’s voice finally caught his attention. “You need to try to slow your breathing. Just stay exactly where you are. We’re coming to you! You’ll be okay.”

Lance tried to take a breath, but he couldn’t focus beyond his blindness. He couldn’t see, he couldn’t breathe. He clutched at his head as he felt a painful pulse behind his eyes. With a choked off scream, he felt himself fade into unconsciousness.


Lance woke up slowly. He felt fuzzy, like his whole body was made of cotton fluff. As he became more aware of himself, he tried to remember what happened. He remembered a battle, trying to form Voltron, then–

Lance sat up quickly, his eyes wide open, trying to see. Everything was a gray fuzz, but he thought he could make out the faintest blobs of color. As he blinked and looked around, he felt a hand on his shoulder that gently pushed him back down onto the bed.

“Lance it’s okay,” it was Shiro. “You’re okay. You’re in the med bay.”

“Shiro…why can’t I see?!” Lance’s voice was strained and raspy. He tried to keep his breathing even as he angled his face to where he thought SHiro was.

“We’re not sure. Do you remember anything?”

“I…I remember fighting….and trying to form Voltron. It hurt.” As soon as he said this, he felt the dull ache of a migraine. “Still hurts,” he mumbled.

“What hurts?” Shiro’s voice was gentle, but Lance could hear his worry.

“My head.” Lance felt his energy draining. “Shiro can I sleep now?”

“Yeah buddy. Go back to sleep. We’ll be here when you wake up.”

Lance smiled in thanks before immediately succumbing to sleep.


The second time Lance woke up was slower and easier. He felt groggy as he carefully blinked his eyes open. The sight of the med bay was still slightly blurry, but Lance didn’t care. He could see again! He carefully levered himself up onto his elbows and looked around. Shiro, Hunk, Pidge, and Keith were all sitting in chairs around his bed. Hunk, Pidge, and Keith were slumped over fast asleep, but Shiro was leaning over Lance, concern etched into every line of his face.

“Shiro,” Lance smiled. “It’s good to see you.”

Shiro breathed a sigh of relief and sat back in his chair.

“Your vision is coming back,” he stated. “I’m glad it was only temporary. I think I know what caused it, now.”

Lance pulled himself up into a sitting position, giving Shiro a questioning glance.

“You said your head hurt, right?” Shiro asked.

“Yeah,” Lance said. “I had a migraine before the fight. I get them pretty often. It’s mostly gone now though. What does that have to do with my vision?”

“Some migraines can cause a variety of physical symptoms like hallucinations, weakness, and temporary loss of vision. They’re called aura migraines.” Shiro looked at Lance thoughtfully. “I think when we formed Voltron, it caused an aura migraine.”

Lance considered this new information. What if it happens again? What if he can’t fight?

“Does–Does this mean I can’t be a Paladin anymore?” He asked, his eyes downcast.

Shiro looked surprised.

“What? No of course it doesn’t mean that!”

“But if it happens again–” Shiro cut him off.

“If it happens again, we’ll deal with it. But you’re part of this team Lance. We’re not kicking you out just because you get sick sometimes.” Shiro grabbed Lance’s shoulders and looked him in the eyes. Despite the blurriness, Lance could see Shiro had a stern look on his face. “We. Need. You.”

Lance gave a watery smile and leaned in to wrap his arms around Shiro.

“Thank you,” he whispered. Shiro patted him on the back before pulling away.

“You should get some more rest, Lance. You still look pretty worn out.”

Lance nodded slowly. He was still tired. And just having a conversation left him completely exhausted. He slowly laid back and rested his head on the pillow behind him. As he drifted off, he smiled, safe and surrounded by his team.

Voltron prompt

They had just woken up for a night filled with yelling, kicking, and lots of laughing. They had just finished their classes for the quarter and were celebrating by sleeping at lances apartment.

Lance lived alone so no one ever really saw Lance in his own space, never saw him when he was alone. To them he looked happy, always smiling and never seemed to be troubled by anything serious.

They all thought that. But when they had all woken up and gone into the kitchen to get breakfast they all stopped, minds stalling and then racing in overdrive when they saw Lance swallow a handful of different pills.

They were shocked and none of them knew what to say, so they didn’t say anything. It bothered them for the next few days, they were trying to think of what to say and how to say it.

When they finally asked him about it Lance couldn’t help but cry. They had been so worried about him and had been so carful about how they approached him. Lance then proceeded to laugh so hard his sides hurt, and when he looked up his friends they all had confused and concerned faces. Lance explained to them, through tears, that he was fine and nothing was wrong. He just has to take a bunch of different vitamins for his body to act normal. They all hugged him and told him they loved him and that they were happy he was okay.

If you’d told Geoff a few months ago that he’d be sitting around his penthouse surrounded not only by his own crew but also all three members of the infamous Cerberus he’d never have believed it. Could neither imagine trusting those killers within his inner sanctum nor winning their favour so completely that they were prepared to trust him back.

It’s bizarre, seeing them here, now, looking like any dumb 20 year olds as they flop all over Geoff’s couches and steal his booze. Michael, Gavin and Jeremy are still made of sharp edges sure, still gravitate to one another, still sink into cold calculation when they’re on a job, but there’s no denying the way they’ve opened up. The way they come to the penthouse to socialise rather than simply to collect missions, will drink and laugh and mess around, the way they’ve more or less stopped waiting for Geoff to tightened a noose around their necks.

On any given day one might find Jeremy and Ryan talking shop about various weapons, enthusiastically joined by Michael from time to time though he’s just as likely to be with Jack comparing specs on their cars. For his part Geoff seems to have acquired a Gavin shaped shadow, nosey and overbearing but endearing in his determination to discover everything there is to know. What a ridiculous leap they’ve made since that first meeting.

It happens at an old warehouse, pretty standard for a first meeting where everyone’s on edge, out of the public eye and in reasonably neutral territory, dim and dingy enough to appeal to even the most ludicrous of overdramatic crooks.

And Cerberus are dramatic; dressed all in black as they slink out of the darkness, perfectly in sync and moving so quietly Geoff almost misses their arrival. Might have all together if he didn’t have Jack in his ear, calm and steady as she plays sentry out the front. Even the clothes Cerberus wear stink of intention, a blazer, a hoodie, a leather jacket; casual but sleek, nothing ratty or worn out but not fancy enough to make Geoff think they’re looking to impress him. They aren’t subtle, though, not with the way they’re all wearing that stylised snarling Cerberus emblem of theirs, printed on Jones’ jacket, the buckle of Dooley’s belt, hanging from Free’s neck. They clearly know what people say about them, what Geoff must think of them, and it seems they’re more than willing to drive their identity home.  

Understandable, really, considering their appearance doesn’t quite match the stories. Confident and openly armed, yes, standing before the infamous Ramsey without a hint of trepidation, but Geoff had expected them to be older. Taller. Maybe slightly less theatrical, though with a name like Cerberus really that was a bad call on Geoff’s part. Still, the most frightening thing about Cerberus was always going to be their reputation, the rumours of what they had done, what they would do, the level of utter depravity they joyfully excelled at.

For all their many talents Cerberus were best known for outlandish robberies, absurd property damage and disturbingly imaginative wet work; deadly, merciless, and utterly impossible to shake once they’ve got their sights set on something. Each of the three have their own talents, complementary and seamlessly overlapping when need be but distinct enough none the less. The Bostonite specialises in long range and trick shots while Jersey is bombs and heavy weapons, but everyone best knows the pair for their fists, born brawlers with fire in their blood. The Brit works in words, in deals and threats and silken promises and, when all else fails, the ruthless application of knives and poisons. With that in mind it’s little surprise when he’s the one who steps forward and catches Geoff’s eye, smirking as sharp and wicked as a razorblade, and speaks.

This was a risk, and Geoff knew it. He wanted to grow his crew, wanted the best of the best, but all too many would tell him this recruitment was doomed to fail from the start. Doomed to more than simple rejection, given how volatile and bloodthirsty his chosen recruits were known to be. Geoff wasn’t worried, exactly, he’d won over the Vagabond after all, everything else should be easy sailing, but he was certainly cautious. Anyone with half a brain is cautious, when it comes to Cerberus.

Everyone knows Cerberus are assholes. Cocky, obnoxious, outrageously antagonistic and generally unpredictable, the group has a pretty chequered reputation.  They’re a roving crew, running jobs wherever they fancy regardless of territories and it’s made them more than a few enemies, but they are efficient. Creative. The kind of vicious that kingpins covet like jewels, if only anyone could keep them. It’s their other key character flaw; apparently unshakably devoted to one another, more loyal to each other than most blood relatives, but iffy on any outside input, impulsive, defiant, bad with authority.

They’re a curious trio, a tiny gang with no aspirations of growing their numbers, no apparent interest in carving out a stationary home and absolutely no intention of bowing to anyone. Which will make Geoff’s proposition a difficult one, to be sure, though he hasn’t given up hope. Geoff’s nothing if not inescapably persuasive when properly motivated, and if all the rumours have done this group justice this is an opportunity he has no intention of missing out on. If for nothing else than because he doesn’t want to be in their sightlines when some other gang inevitably snaps them up.

Given the inherent risks of this particular endeavor Ryan was always going to insist on coming along as backup. Not that Geoff was going to complain, he always did like to have Ryan loom into view halfway through initial meet and greets, a little test to see how people reacted when faced with the walking nightmare that is the Vagabond.

Considering how they’d been treating the negotiations so far, definitely lacking some of Geoff’s experience but still loftily tag-teaming their way through a scathing dismissal, Geoff has Cerberus pegged for a standard flinch and rally, some shock or maybe a flash of fear before they pull it together with a sneering show of indifference. He couldn’t have been more wrong.

When Ryan appears, ghosting out of the dark unannounced in his full Vagabond glory two things happen in quick succession. First, clearly clocking the movement if not the identity of the interloper all three leap into action, Free stepping back without fanfare as Jones and Dooley jerk forward, guns drawn and aimed so quickly Geoff genuinely thinks he’s gone and gotten Ryan killed. Before he can even open his mouth to explain the weapons are lowered again, all three faces lighting up with recognition and as one they grin. Sharp and shark-like and anything but friendly, somehow looking even more dangerous than they had with guns drawn, radiating glee as Free leans forward again and purrs out an overly familiar Well hello Ryan. Which, no. Unacceptable. 

For a brief horrible moment Geoff thinks Ryan must’ve been stupid enough not to mention some prior history with the group before realising that this was, of course, simply a demonstration, Cerberus making a little power play of their own. It’s a good one too, considering how few knew the Vagabond’s name, fewer still who’d be brave enough to taunt him with it. Not that Ryan gives them any sort of satisfying reaction, far too professional to even flinch, simply inclining his head in an unfazed greeting.

Geoff holds back a sigh, knowing the moment they’re back home he’s in for a rant about kids these days. Or perhaps an entreatment about adoption, lord knows Ryan has always liked his pets dangerous. Not that the three before them were the type to be kept like that, nothing more clear than their outright refusal to ever again be beholden to anyone but each other.

Everyone knows Cerberus had a master, once. The one who shaped them, who named them. The one who’d called himself Hades with all the arrogance of a man made of money and power, who’d thought himself untouchable, his control absolute.  Cerberus were Hades’ most trusted minions, his favourite pets, and outside the ridiculous melodrama of it all the name was certainly fitting, the trio becoming so wholly interlaced, thinking and talking and fighting with such undeniable synergy, that they could almost be mistaken for three heads of the same body.

Distinctive as they were it wasn’t long before Cerberus’ reputation preceded them wherever they went. It was not a pleasant reputation, not when they were doing all of Hades’ dirty work, nothing deemed too terrible, too cruel, no order they wouldn’t follow to the letter. Hades’ was the kind of man who demanded nothing less, saw scruples as weakness and gave unforgivable orders meant to test his own people as much as punish his victims. The kind of man who’d thought his dogs dumb and docile until they tore out his throat. 

Hades was no small fish and the news of his downfall spread like wildfire, but with the only living witnesses staying silent everyone’s heard a different version of how that night played out. There are those who say Cerberus were traitors, the lowliest of deserters. They say Hades’ loved them, gave them all they could ask for and still their greed demanded more. Say Cerberus took Hades for all he’d give, then banded together to take the rest, dishonest, treacherous dogs biting the hand that fed them. They were the only ones who could have gotten beyond Hades’ impenetrable security to get at him, they were a large portion of his security, and between their skill and the man’s favour, his faith in their unwavering obedience, killing Hades must have been child’s play.

Others, though, have a darker version, one arguably more fitting with Hades, the rich, nasty piece of goods who dealt in anything from drugs to guns to flesh, knocking off anyone who stood in his way. In those accounts Cerberus were bound to Hades, all chained one way or another, as captive as their namesake. They say Jones was traded as payment for a debt, young enough to stay loyal even to those who didn’t deserve it, made loaded gun for Hades to point wherever he pleased, blood on his hands whether he wanted it or not. They say that Free was brought across oceans under false pretences, kept at Hades’ side against his will, that the sugared words he spun on command were laced with poison and his constant guards were keepers as much as they were protection. They say Dooley’s already shady contract as an underground cage-fighter was bought out under the table, added to Hades’ collection and made to swap bare fisted beat downs for loaded guns and bloody executions.

Some say the attack was just the final straw, the inevitable mutiny after years of disservice. Some believe there was one last insult, say Hades was selling his pets to the highest bidder, indentured servitude of trained killers for a tidy profit. Some think it was just impulsive, the three beaten so broken and vicious it was only a matter of time, lashing out as senseless and bloodthirsty as dangerous animals.

Whichever circumstances you believe the end result was the same. Everyone agrees that whatever went down that night it was brutal. Everyone knows Hades died slow, body taken away in pieces. No tears were shed for the man but his money was keenly missed, empire left to crumble as his killers made off with a fortune.

The three could have done anything at that point, could have gone their separate ways and dropped into wealthy anonymity, but they didn’t. They stuck together, as tightknit as they’d ever been, even kept the name Hades gave them. It was smart, playing off the reputation they’d already earned, letting the death of their master boost them into even greater notoriety, powerful, feared and free. A freedom they ran wild with, pulling jobs all over the country, following their every whim no matter who they upset in the process.

Geoff can feel Ryan’s stare boring into the side of his head, matched perfectly by Jack’s pointed silence pressing down on him over the coms, and yeah, Geoff knows alright. Geoff wants them too, can already see how untouchable his crew could be with the six of them working together. The three standing before him are so fucking young in so many ways that they make Geoff feel ancient, make him feel sad and cold and furious when he thinks about it too long, but he can’t deny the anticipation zinging through his blood when he pictures what they can do, what they will be. It doesn’t hurt that he can just as clearly imagine what a nightmare his life will be if he lets them slip away, knows Ryan and Jack will tell Lindsay, tell Trevor, get all of the support crew on his case. Knows they’d probably be right to, if he messes this up.

Because, sure, Cerberus are turning them down, showed up to this meeting purely to sneer at his offer, to dare him to try and force them, to ruin him if he thinks to use them. But they still turned up. Still curious enough to hear out the proposition, to meet with the infamous Geoff Ramsey, all bristling violence and wary eyes but here all the same. And honestly that’s all the motivation Geoff needs. He is the king of Los Santos, a former Rooster, the criminal mastermind extraordinaire, and these kids won’t know what hit them.

The Penthouse is as full and loud as it’s ever been, a cacophony of noise matched by an entirely unreasonable number of empty liquor bottles. Jeremy is sitting at the dining table with Matt and Trevor, the remains of a disastrously short lived attempt at monopoly pushed by the wayside as they huddle together and plot, shielding their notes and throwing Geoff increasingly guilty glances whenever he passes by. In front of the TV Lindsay and Jack sit on either side of Michael as the three scream smack talk at one another at the top of their lungs, death threats and personal attacks all fair game in the face of a Mario kart tournament. Then there’s Gavin and Ryan, who’ve been throwing knives at Geoff’s wall without a hint of remorse, game only called off when Gavin’s slurring giggles betrayed the way his vision had started to blur. Even when relegated to the couch Gavin’s still pulling an endless array of blades from thin air like fucking Houdini, Ryan laughing helplessly as he desperately snatches them away for safe keeping.

There are guns on the coffee table, scattered across the kitchen bench, tucked into the cookie jar. Someone’s left what is hopefully an unloaded grenade launcher propped against the wall in the bathroom. There are wads of cash stashed all over the living room, poker chips scattered everywhere in the wake of an upended card table. A nearly unrecognisably charred deck of Uno still smokes from a metal wastepaper bin and someone has definitely smuggled another stray cat into one of the spare bedrooms. 

Despite all that it’s still the fridge that always grabs Geoff’s attention, entirely covered with articles and headlines cut from every newspaper in Los Santos, a variety of different handwriting artfully editing and rebutting when need be, like a living history of crew shenanigans as seen by the press. The newest addition, stuck dead centre in pride of place, is a photo taken midway through a heist pulled only last week, headline packed with delightful alarm as it heralds the apparently permanent addition of three new members of the Fake AH Crew.

some genyatta fluff

Some genyatta stuff I speedwrote like 3 days ago when I was really passionate about the genyatta stuff. Posting it because why not.

It’s a first kiss, start of relationship sort of deal, because those are my favorite stories to hear and tell. So, ye. Here. If I publish this somewhere im probs gonna call it “It Was Easy” because my titles blow.


It was obvious that Genji was exhausted. His breath came in heavy pants long after he sat down next to Zenyatta. He said he’d been soaked with sweat for the past hour— which wasn’t something anyone on the outside could be aware of with Genji. Zenyatta felt some guilt for working him so hard; but then, Genji had asked. It seemed he had some kind of plan that required him being at his best, but he wouldn’t share it with Zenyatta beyond that.

That was fine. Zenyatta was his master, his teacher, not his confident or family. Genji could have secrets.

That logic didn’t stop Zenyatta from worrying.

Keep reading

I Promise

Archie x Reader

A/N: Thank you so much for this request! It’s my first one, so I hope I did it justice. Also- for this, because they’re dating, we’re just gonna pretend his thing with Grundy didn’t happen. Anyway, pease send in requests!

Requested by: @fav-imagines
“Alrighty, so I came up with my request! Archie imagine where the reader gets into an argument with a male family member over Archie, and Archie walks in during it and comforts the reader.”

Word Count: 1000


Archie and I had been dating for months. The whole time, though, my brother had never said a nice word about him. Only things like, “You better be careful around that boy,” and “That kid is nothing but trouble.” They knew each other through football, because they were both on the team, but I could never manage to get my brother to explain to me exactly why he hated Archie so much. I had even asked Archie about it too, because it was driving me crazy, but he didn’t seem to have any ideas either. Most of the time it was easy enough to ignore the things my brother said, but one night, while the three of us were at my house, I decided it was time to say something about it.

Archie and I had been watching movies together, cuddled up on the couch, when he excused himself to take a call from his dad. “I’ll be right back,” he said, pressing a kiss to my forehead. Once he had disappeared from the room, my brother sauntered into the kitchen to grab a drink. “You have Archie over here?” he asked me.

“Yeah, we’re watching movies,” I told him. I heard him scoff from the kitchen.

“I’ve said it before, but I’ll say it again, Y/N. I don’t like you hanging out with that kid.” 8I stand up and walk over to him, my face flushing with irritation. “We’re not ‘hanging out,’” I tell him. “We’re dating. D-A-T-I-N-G. Dating,” I spell out for him. “And we have been for a while now.”

My brother rolls his eyes at me. “The kid’s a snake, Y/N,” replies lazily. “He’ll keep you around for a while, and then once he’s bored, he’ll leave you in the dust,” he says, giving me a pointed look. “And you know what I’m gonna do? I’m gonna say I told you so.”

I bite back my anger. “He’s not like that,” I try to explain to him. “Archie is sweet, and kind, and-”

“Yeah, I’m sure he is,” he says sarcastically, cutting me off. As he’s leaving the room, I snap.

“Why do you hate him so much?” I shout.

He turns around, anger written all over his face. “I don’t need to explain myself to you,    Y/N!” he shouts back at me. “Archie Andrews is an idiot, and a punk, and I don’t want you anywhere near him!”

“You don’t get to make those decisions for me!” I yell back at him, tears burning my eyes. “I love him, and nothing you say is going to change that!”

Archie just so happens to walk back into the room at this moment. Hot, angry tears are sliding down my cheeks as I stare at my red-faced brother. “Hey, Y/N. Sorry that took so long, my dad-” He cuts himself off when he sees the standstill going on in the kitchen. “Is everything okay?” he asks slowly.

My brother tears his gaze away from me to glare at Archie. “Just dandy,” he spits, turning his back on the both of us. He storms out of the room, leaving me alone in the middle of the kitchen with tears still making their way down my face.

I turn my body towards him, but I can’t bring myself to look him in the eye. “Y/N?” he asks quietly. But I don’t respond. I just sniffle as he makes his way towards me, engulfing my entire body in his strong arms.

After a few minutes of silent hugging, Archie breaks the silence. “Wanna talk about it?” he asks me quietly.

I sigh. “I just wish it didn’t have to be like this,” I tell him, my voice breaking on the last word. “He hates you so much, and it hurts me to feel like I have to choose between the boy I love and my family. My parents adore you- hell, even my grandmother thinks you’re a sweetheart.” He chuckles, running a hand through my hair. “But he despises you. And he won’t even tell me why.”

Archie takes a moment before responding. “Well, no matter what, he shouldn’t yell at you like that,” he says, and I can hear the slight anger in his tone at the way my brother handled the situation. “But I’m sorry it has to be like this,” he tells me, holding me tight. “I promise, I’m gonna do everything I can to make this easier for you. I’ll talk to your brother and try to work things out with him. I hate seeing you so upset like this.”

I pull my torso away from him to look him in the eyes. “I love you, Archie Andrews,” I say with a small smile.

“I love you more, Y/N  Y/L/N.”

I lean back into hug, letting my eyes close and breathing in the familiar scent of his cologne. Out of all the places in the world, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be than where I am right now- pressed up against the sweetest red-headed boy in the world, in a hug that I never want to end. But when it does- eventually- he smiles at me, and brushes a piece of hair behind my ear. “I promise,” he tells me, “I’m gonna make this better.”

A genuine, happy smile blooms across my face, and I press a short but sweet kiss on to his soft lips. “I know you will.”

of wedding gowns and topless models

For @pegasusdragontiger. Based on your prompt and that FRIENDS gif post you tagged me on. :)

After a tiring day filled with a normal amount of explosions in the lab, Tony dragged his feet up to his penthouse to find Pepper, Darcy and Jane lounging on the couch, bonding over a magazine of suspicious content. They were dressed in wedding gowns and Tony could only blink as he paused to let his gaze wander over all three of them in surprise. Darcy was wearing a veil, and a tiara sat lopsided on Pepper’s head.

Keep reading


Originally posted by sneakyshelby

Requested -  “ 4. “It’s always been you. You and only you.” - maybe for Tommy please xxx”

Thomas Shelby - Altar

You were crouched in front of the fire dropping the wood onto the already roaring flames steadily as not to burn yourself, hoping to get your house warm quick as the snow began to fall heavily outside. The crackling of the fire soothed you, making you feel cosy and protected from the winter’s chill whilst you began to daydream, watching the patterns of the flames as they twisted and turned.

You presumed it to be your soon to be husband home when you heard the front door swing open and slam shut, a cold breeze entering the room for a moment causing you to huff but soon putting on a smile and turning to greet him. Rather to be greeted by Tommy, a burly figure in your hall, arms hung by the side of his stiff body and his stare as icy as ever. Before, seeing Tommy would have been a heartwarming surprise. Now, considering you hadn’t spoke for over a year it was more of a shocking one, yet you began to understand why he stood in your home before he explained himself. The earlier events of the day replaying in your mind.

Keep reading

You know what I love? I love Vulcan robes and sweet protective Jim! This is an illustration for a fic I’m writing, it’s called ‘100 Words’ and it’s obviously Spirk, duh.

It’s on FanFiction.net for anyone interested!


Here’s the extract from the scene:

“Hey.” Jim’s fingers swept over his cheekbone, caressing rhythmically, and his voice was barely above a whisper when it reached him, drawing him up and away from the unbecoming swirl of his fears. “I’m still here.” The careful reminder had him swallow and shiver, and the Vulcan leaned into the human’s touch for a brief second, drawing his strength from him. Their eyes met, gazes held for several minutes -he was not certain how many, but found the notion irrelevant anyway- and finally Spock shook his head slowly.

Kirk frowned. “Don’t be like that,” he said gently, no hint of anger or irritation in his tone; his palm never left his skin, the contact offering an endless source of comfort and affection which the telepath soaked up greedily, a trembling breath leaving his lips as he felt his tension ease in spite of everything. “You must tell me if I wanna help. And you know I always do, don’t you, Spock?”

The Vulcan nodded immediately. “I am aware.” He pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead: “But my issue is nothing that can be dealt with in a matter of… twelve point fifty-nine minutes.”

Jim embraced him for a moment, then let go as he went to retrieve the silvery IDIC pin that meant so much to him before placing it on his chest. “Later, then. After the mission.”

Spock watched his Captain in silence, the rosy hue of his cheeks, the golden tan of his skin, the rich green of his command shirt, the mercurial brightness of his irises. It was absurd how important he was to him, how irreplaceable -he wanted to tell him, to call him t’hy’la, to say the word to his face and explain it in all its fullness, to paint the picture of a soulmate and a haven, an oasis and a refuge, safe and unchanging. Instead he leaned forward minutely, subtly requesting to be held again, and his k’diwa did so without hesitation, drawing him within the protective circle of his arms.

“Foreigner, where is your home?”

Perhaps I have found it in you.

He closed his eyes.

An Awkward Conversation - Jason Todd x Reader

Requested by Anon - Jason Todd falling for Superboy’s super naive twin sister

The team was on a mission to stop Bane’s drug trafficking ring on a island off the coast of Brazil.  Jason, who had only recently joined the team as the new Robin, was paired with you to break in to the main warehouse to search for the drugs. He was glad to work with you because you were the only one that didn’t treat him like a replacement. 

Ever since Jason became the new Robin and Dick moved on to be Nightwing, the rest of the team gave him the cold shoulder. They would ignore him, choosing to go to Nightwing for things that Robin used to do like hacking or sneaking into places. Jason could admit that Dick was better at hacking, but Jason was just as good as he was in everything else, even better in somethings. 

That was why Jason liked you. You were kind, thoughtful, and beautiful, which was remarkable considered you were a twin of Superboy. Jason couldn’t understand how you were related when your personalities were complete opposites. 

“You ready to go, Robin?” you asked, shaking Jason out of his thoughts. Jason turned to look into your sparkling eyes that made his mind go blank. Gulping, he nodded.

“Yeah, I’m ready,” Jason replied softly as a blush burned onto his face. He ducked his head down, so you wouldn’t notice. At his confirmation, you crept from your hiding place towards the warehouse’s side door. Jason watched you in awe as you melted the door’s hinges with your heat vision before carefully laying the door against the wall. You had only some of the powers of Superman, but you only had the powers Superboy didn’t have. For example, you had heat vision, but you didn’t have super-hearing.

Jason used his grappling gun to swing onto a window on the opposite side of the building. The building was filled with large crates, stacked from end to end. He jumped down, landing silently before checking the area for any of Bane’s goons.

Finding nothing, Jason went to find you. You were sitting underneath a window that looked into an office, peering inside for a second before ducking back down. Jason crept up behind you, tapping you on the shoulder.

“Ahh,” you gasped quietly, spinning around to see Jason. You sighed in relief. “Oh, it’s you. Thank goodness.”

“Did you find anyone?” Jason asked, sitting down next to you.

“Just two in there,” you answered, pointing into the room. Jason peeked in to see two people in a compromising position. Grunts floated from the room as Jason quickly ducked back down. 

“Ah, hell,” Jason groaned, trying to clear that image out of his mind. He was scarred for life. You tried to peek inside again, but Jason pulled you back down, covering your eyes. “You don’t need to see that.”

“But what are they doing?” you asked, pulling Jason’s hand off your eyes. You cocked your head at him, waiting for him to explain. 

“They’re doing the dirty,” Jason explained, only to have his mouth drop open when you looked confused. “They’re bumping nasties?” You still appeared confused. “They’re doing it.” Jason couldn’t believe you didn’t know what he was talking about.

“They’re doing what?” you questioned innocently. 

Jason ran a hand over his face. “They’re having sex,” he mumbled as a blush burns onto his face. 

“Oh, like making babies?” you said, peeking back through the window. 

“Stop doing that,” Jason snapped, covering your eyes and dragging you back down. 

“But I didn’t know it was supposed be like that,” you argued, letting him pull you down. “I thought babies come from spaceships.”

Jason’s eyes almost popped out of his head. “Spaceships?”

“Yeah, Superman said he was found as a baby in a spaceship,” you explained. “Isn’t that where all babies come from?” Jason buried his face into his hands, while you looked at him for an answer. 

“Babies come from people,” Jason stated, gesturing towards the window. You tried to take another look, but Jason stopped you. “They have sex, and sometimes it results in a baby.”

You bit your lip in thought for a moment, Jason hoped it would be the end of this conversation. It wasn’t. “I thought sex was supposed to be fun, they don’t seem to be having fun.”

“Well, sex is fun when you do it right,” Jason stated, feeling his face burn even more than before. 

“How do you know if you are ‘doing it’ right?”

“You should do it with someone whose more experienced in it,” Jason answered as the grunting became louder. 

“How will I know if the person I want to ‘do it’ with is experienced?” you inquired. You were gazing at him with your beautiful eyes, and Jason could only say what came into his mind first.

“I’ll teach you someday,” Jason flirted, loving when a big smile crossed your face. “Now we better contact the team to see what to do about this.”

You grinned at him before placing a quick kiss on Jason’s cheek. Jason was star struck, a goofy smile gave way onto his face. “Thanks for explaining this to me. No one has ever answered all my questions at once before.”

“Well,” Jason gushed. “It’s the least I could do.” Once Jason was able to restart his heart, he pushed the comlink in his ear to contact the team. Since Jason was distracted, you peeked into the room again. However, Jason caught your movement, and quickly pulled you back down to his side.

Batman had just finished the mission briefing, allowing the team to go their separate ways. Jason stood beside Nightwing, watching you as you ran over to your twin, Superboy. You began to talk wildly to him, and Jason silently wished you were talking to him instead. He found he loved the sound of your voice. Jason would have stared at you all day if Nightwing hadn’t nudged him.

“So, it must have been awkward finding those two goons like that,” Nightwing teased, nudging Jason’s shoulder again. 

Jason nudged him back. “It wasn’t so bad,” Jason replied before gazing at you once again. “(Y/N) and I had a nice talk…” He would have continued but a cry of outrage cut him off. 

“He said what?!” Superboy shouted before spinning around to find Jason. Jason gulped and quickly sprinted towards the zeta tubes. Superboy attempted to chase him, but was stopped by you.

“I don’t know why you’re so upset. If Robin and I make a baby, you’d get to be an uncle,” you said excitedly as Jason stepped into the zeta tube. Jason threw you a wink before he disappeared with a flash of light with Superboy’s bellow of rage echoing behind him.    

Late Night Coffee Run

“Okieriete Onaodowan x Reader

Note: As I wrote this to me it just seemed more and more like a cheesy romantic comedy. 

Request: Anonymous asked: Can I request something with Oak? I don’t care if there’s smut or not I just need more Oak fics in my life! 

Word Count: 2,920 (my longest fic yet, I got a little carried away with this one but Oak deserves it)

Originally posted by lcrdhenry

Oak: It’s 2am Y/N.

If you were being completely honest with yourself that was pretty much the response you were expecting to get when you texted your boyfriend and asked him to meet you at an all night coffee shop.

Y/N: Yes but I’m already here so you have to come meet me.

You know that no matter how much he protests and tells you that he’s too tired, he wouldn’t let you just sit in a coffee shop alone at 2am. He knows that you could probably take care of yourself if something happened to you but he also likes to be there just to make sure, he likes to protect you.

Oak: Fine but you owe me for this.

You laugh quietly to yourself, not wanting to look crazy to the few other people scattered around the small coffee shop as you sit alone and laugh to yourself. You can imagine him perfectly now, still half asleep as he stumbles around his dark apartment to find clothes to pull on.

Y/N: Love you xx

Keep reading


A continuation of my soldier!bellamy fic for @nathenmiller. This is just a little fluffy drabble because I’m working on a longer second part that will get quite angsty.

Clarke watched what could only be described as chaos in her beloved art gallery with wide, horrified eyes. Monty stood next to her with a grim look on his face.

“You signed off on this,” he reminded her.

“I signed off on a small gathering,” Clarke said quickly, shaking her head. “This is not small.”

There were at least thirty workers putting together tables piled with extravagant food and drink. Clarke could see her mother’s campaign manager on the other side of the room instructing the caterers on how everything should look. He was keeping a safe distance from her. They still didn’t see eye-to-eye and Clarke had been told by her mother to at least be civil with him more than once.

“How many people are coming to this thing?” Monty wondered.

She shrugged helplessly. When she agreed to host an event for her mother’s campaign at her gallery, Clarke thought that it would be a few high profile people who might agree to donate money. Not every rich person Abby Griffin had ever met. When they placed a table full of champagne glasses far too near to one of her favorite pieces in the room, Clarke turned away.

“I’m going to lock myself away in my office and pretend like none of this is happening,” she said miserably. “Tell me if someone needs me to sign something.”

Keep reading

Your Ginger Housemate - Part 3

Sorry for the slight delay. School has been pegging homework and assignments at me left right and centre. I hope everyone enjoys the story, it’s taken me hours to perfect it. Also, I apologise for the length. Hope I didn’t go overboard. Please show me what you think whether through likes or comments! I’ve done something a little different towards the end. Hope you like it ;)

Want to read the rest?: Part 1 HERE | Part 2 HERE | Part 4 HERE | Part 5 HERE | Part 6 HERE | Part 7 (½) HERE |  Part 7 (2/2) HERE

Originally posted by starzseed

You were humming. An activity you did so rarely, you surprised yourself. What was even more surprising, as you were taking more time into preparing dinner than usual. Spaghetti and meatballs. Yes, it wasn’t the hardest dish to create, but you weren’t the most marvellous chef and wanted to play it safe. Why was that? Well… a particular red-headed psycho that lived under your roof. It was a forced living arrangement at first, but now, you wouldn’t have it any other way. You found Jerome Valeska, although still slightly frightening, great company. You wanted to impress him in every way possible. Was that strange? Probably. Unusual? Certainly. Worrisome? Absolutely. Did you care? Not one little bit. 

Your humming had now escalated to a full-scale acapella session. ‘Without Me’ by Eminem. A favourite of yours. You knew all the verses off by heart and considered yourself quite the raps-woman, although you wouldn’t sing it in front of anyone else. Especially not Jerome. You’d probably die of embarrassment. 


Four hours! Jerome was supposed to be home four hours ago! It was 11:20pm, and there was still no sign of him. Your stress sweated out of your pores, shredded your nails with your teeth and turned you into a fidgeting mess. Causing you to pace back and forth and check the clock every other time you weren’t peeking through the curtains. 

‘Stay calm y/n. Stay calm. He’s probably just caught up. Yeah, that’s right. Just caught up…’ But a voice in the back of your head decided to rebut.  

‘But what if he’s more than caught up. He might have left.’

‘Not without saying goodbye.’

‘Why would he bother with that? It’s not like your important.’

‘That’s not true. That’s not true. The way he acts around me. Those looks. It can’t be an act.’

‘But what if it is…?’

Keep reading

The Falcon and the Wolf Part 4

Summary:  This is an AU where you and Dean have been separated by a terrible curse for over two years.  BACKSTORY - this part is entirely a flashback.  This is part four in a multi-part series.

Series Masterlist

If you missed Part 1 get caught up HERE.

If you missed Part 2 get caught up HERE.

If you missed Part 3 get caught up HERE.

Characters: AU!Dean x Reader, AU!Sam, AU!Cas, AU!Gadreel, AU!Arthur, AU!Cain, AU!John, AU!Crowley, AU!Jess, AU!Abbadon, AU!Rowena, AU!Kevin, AU!Metatron (mentioned)

Word Count: 1828

Warnings: none, canon typical angst

A/N:  This is partly inspired by one of my favorite childhood movies Ladyhawke, though I’m taking it in a different direction.  This will be a multi-part series.

This is my first AU series, so feedback is very much appreciated!

Thanks to the fabulous beta @wheresthekillswitch, you are so wonderful! I don’t know what I’d do without you!

Thank you to the amazing @arryn-nyxx for the BEAUTIFUL aesthetic you created!  You capture a feeling with color, light and pictures that I can rarely find with words.

My tags are open so send me a message or an ask if you’d like to be added to the list!



The King’s Procession began its trek east a few days ago.  King John, Dean, Sam, the King’s council, the King’s Guard save three, and you all arrived at the Royal Monastery last night.  The monastery is home to the Royal Church, which is where every royal for the last three hundred years has been married.  After the wedding ceremony the Procession will continue its tour through the surrounding cities sharing the news of the Prince Dean’s new bride.

This morning, the morning of your wedding, you wake in agony, your body twisting in pain.  You’re lying in your bed next to Dean, but your body is foreign to you.  You speak and a screech breaks the silence, startled you try to move, but instead flap your wings, waking Dean.

“What the hell?” he says.

You try to speak again but only more screeches sound.

“Get out of here bird,” Dean yells.

You fly outside and perch on a nearby tree.

“Y/N?  Sweetheart?”

He calls for you and, when he doesn’t find you in your shared rooms, he begins roaming the halls.  You fly from tree to tree, window to window watching him as he tasks every person he finds with looking for you.  You watch him all day unable to tell him you’re right here.  The worry and anger and fear in his voice grows with every minute he doesn’t find you.  You swoop to the bedroom window hoping for a way to communicate with him. 


Keep reading

Make It Up To Me

Steve x Reader One Shot.

Summary: Telling Steve you’re pregnant

Words: 1689

Originally posted by unusuallynerdy

You stared at the white plastic stick still lying on the bathroom sink.  The words in the tiny box were blaring at you; mocking you.  

How could this happen? You both had been so careful; so very, very careful.  The two of you hadn’t had a conversation about this yet.  The two of you, although you’d recently moved in together, hadn’t had the conversation about your future with each other besides when he’d asked you to move in.  What if he didn’t want kids?  What if he didn’t want kids with you?  Did you even want to have kids?  Just the thought of screaming, crying, pooping, sleepless babies gave you the heebie-jeebies.  

Keep reading