i don't know why there is blue spot on bones head

camsthisky  asked:

59. “No one can hurt me like you can.” With Dick and Bruce?

you got it, cammio :3 looks like my prompters have a running theme. this is what i call, hey remember jersey’s terrible

59. “No one can hurt me like you can.”

Once, he’d sat with Jason, before he’d died, and said, “Someday, you’ll know when, you’ll be in the thick of it, right? And, suddenly, the things you need to get done are going to split. Your problems are going to double. You’re in a burning building, the structure is failing, there are still people who need to get out. Someone’s bleeding, but the perp is getting away.”

He’d pinned Jason - Robin, rather, because the only times he’d really talked to Jason, it had been mask-to-mask - with a look and said, “He’s going to look at you, and he’s going to tell you to go. Get out of here. Start running, and don’t look back. Your job is to ignore him. Not all robins fly south for the winter.”

He’d been so angry, back then - it was like someone had thrust needles filled with white-hot fire through his pores. The cruelest thing he’d done to Jason was also the one thing he could never bring himself to apologize for: he hadn’t trusted Jason, not with Bruce. He could never apologize for that. He would never try. 

It sucked, he could imagine himself saying. But there are three people I truly trust with the man that raised me, and I’m at the top of that list. I made it hard on you. I’d do it again. You understand?

The warehouse was painted in shades of ash and ink and acid green from the streetlamp outside. Dick pressed his heel into the floorboards, and they creaked under the added weight. The only sign of Bruce was the flash of white lenses from the corner of the room, folded deep into the shadows as if he had been born into them. Dick’s finger tapped the emergency beacon attached to his comm. 

“Hi,” Dick murmured, trying to pitch his voice as low and soft as possible. It would be harder for the toxin to corrupt, that way. 

There was the slightest shift from the corner, but the two slits moved not a millimeter. It felt a bit like he was being judged, like his heart was being weighed against a feather. Dick knelt down, scooting only a bit closer - the light from outside cast the blue stripes running down his arms into an alien, minty color. “It’s just me.”

“You can’t be Jason.”

Dick closed his eyes. The pain of it spread through him, like someone had let loose a butterfly with broken glass wings in his chest. “It’s not. It’s Dick.”

“Whoever you are,” Bruce snarled, leaning far enough forward so Dick could just see the cut of of Batman’s silhouette, “wherever you hide. you can’t run from me.”


Bruce slithered out of the shadows. Dick was able to block the first few swings with ease. He’d known Bruce for so long he could often feel the way Bruce would move just before he did; he fought like a mammoth, an unstoppable force only ever moving forward. He was stacked for power, about four times as fast as he looked, and every hit landed with nothing less than absolute precision - kick in the teeth, hit to a nerve bundle, and it was that indomitable control that made him unnerving in a fight. What if, couldn’t help but float out of the haze of the fight, what would this look like if his temper wasn’t viciously reined

The answer is that it would fucking hurt. Dick coughed, stumbling back and blocking a kick from Bruce’s left leg. Bruce took the opportunity to headbutt him, and Dick caught his head, kneeing him sharply in the spot he new the abdominal armor was weakest. 

“Who are you,” Bruce roared. Dick rolled, and Bruce’s fist plunged into the wall, throwing up a cloud of dust. “What have you done to him!”

“I’m not Jason!” Dick shouted, but it was weak from the hits he’d taken. Dick just couldn’t bring himself to hit back hard enough. “I’m not, goddammit - he’s dead, Bruce!”

Bruce threw him to the ground, boot on his throat. “You killed him,” Bruce whispered, words like pearls on glass. “You killed him.”

Dick closed his eyes, focusing on forcing air through his throat. “B-B - “

“I would have given anything,” Bruce said, the leather caught in his curled fists creaking, “anything, anything to spare him that. My life. My parents’ lives. Anything. Of everything you could take - why him?”

Bruce was stumbling backward, then, and sweet air was rushing into his chest. Dick hocked up spit, bracing himself against the floorboards with his palms. 

Bruce had backed up to the wall, and was curled against it. He pulled off the cowl, and was trying to suck in breath after breath after breath - when it failed to calm him down, he beat himself in the forehead with the flat of his palm.

Dick crawled over, lungs still shuddering, stomach still turning, and wrapped his hand around Bruce’s. The toxin was escalating fast. He didn’t have long before Bruce would be utterly beyond rational. 

“C’mon, stop this,” Dick murmured. 

Bruce was shuddering all over, starting to rock himself back and forth. His hand squeezed Dick’s until the bones creaked. “Jason. Jason.”

“He’s dead,” Dick whispered. 

“You’re dead.” And then Bruce was pulling Dick tight against him, like sheer force would save him, fingers dancing at the edges of - invisible burns. Christ. “I killed you.”

You’d better hurry up, Tim, Dick thought.

“Loved you, Jay,” Bruce choked out, head bent against Dick’s. “Loved you. Son.”

Behind the lenses, Dick looked away, and for a moment, he was anywhere but here, in a rotting room with a rotting heart listening to the words - word - he’d always wanted to hear, but were not for him.

“No one can hurt me like you can,” Dick said, quietly, and he closed his eyes, letting Bruce rock him back and forth with increasingly frantic energy. Anything to be anywhere but here.

anonymous asked:

It's me, Chantilly lace anon! I was not expecting that (and I mean this as in woah Chelsea, you are an exceptional writer!) But I'm dying to know the aftermath. Don't leave anon hanging after serving that slice serve (sorry I make bad tennis analogies).

No one lets me be evil. Jk I don’t let myself be evil. I’m chaotic neutral at best.

Here you go anon, I have a soft spot for people calling me by my name. Sequel to this!


He thinks of himself like furniture when he does this to her, thinks of himself as something owned and familiar, as traversable in the dark as a decade long set up. It always surprises him when she startles and drops her keys on the floor, or her groceries, or that one time she nearly stripped. He comes with the place. He comes wherever she is.

Tonight he keeps the light on and he sprawls out on the couch. He’s not exactly owned, he’s not exactly familiar. She barely jumps when she finds him this time.

“Mulder?” She hurries to shut and lock the door behind her, dropping her purse and keys on the side table before rushing over to him. “Are you okay? Why are you here?” She feels his forehead, combs her fingers through his hair.

He studies her openly as she hunches over him. Not a hair out of place, no bruises or bite marks, and her mouth is as lipsticked dried-berry matte as it was when she left him in the office. Her clothes aren’t rumpled. Not even close. Nothing – nothing happened then. It’s eleven at night. If it had happened, if it had been him… she cocks her head when she’s concentrating, and there’s this spot on her jaw. His teeth, there. And on her neck. Pick a place any place. Her throat her ears his tongue his lips. He would pay for the dry cleaning. He would have kept the bra. At the very least she wouldn’t look like this. Like nothing happened. Nothing happened.


“Why are you here, Mulder?” She repeats, but this time she sounds tired. There’s a case, Scully. There’s a wart on my ass, I need you to look. There was an accident on the beltway and I had to make sure it wasn’t you. You’re dead wrong on biorhythms. Just here to say hi. What’s up. How are you.

“Scully, were you out with someone?” The words are thick like a foreign language – because they are. This is not their doublespeak, their runaround, their foot soldier-careful navigation of landmines and tripwire. But it doesn’t feel wrong. Not like he was so sure it would.

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business,” she replies, more curious than defensive. She eyes him warily and joins him on the couch, sitting at the farthest end.

“I almost kissed you,” he blurts out. “Over the summer. We never talked about what that meant.”

Her mouth works around nothing. She hugs herself. “The hallway,” she says mildly. “You’re bringing up the hallway. You’re bringing it up now.”

“It had to come up,” he grits, almost through his teeth. If he shakes her now, by the sword-sharp set of her shoulders, he’d leave her wrinkled. Her shirt would bunch up under his fingers and crease around her elbows, and maybe the collar would flip up. “You know that, Scully.” She shakes her head and it feels annoyingly like they’re in the office, like they’re arguing a case. “You’re saying we could pretend it never happened. That you could pretend it never happened.”

“No, I’m saying it wouldn’t have come up. Mulder, you never would have brought it up.”

“I just did.”

“And why did you?” He stays quiet. To him it doesn’t matter why or how or even when, it just matters that it was brought up. Now they can talk about this. Now they can fix this. “You brought it up to prove a point. You brought it up to be right about something, but God knows what you’ve decided to martyr yourself for this time.”

“I’m bringing it up because we have to talk about it. We almost kissed, Scully.” His voice lowers, something hot stings the back of his throat. “And it wouldn’t have ended there. Not with all we were saying and feeling. We ignored it because you were taken and things aren’t great right now but shit, look what it’s doing to us. You don’t even trust my intentions. You ask why I’m bringing up the hallway. That should be obvious to you.”

“I considered myself warned.” He frowns at her. “I didn’t want to make anything too personal.” He shakes his head and clenches his jaw.

“Don’t do that, Scully. Don’t take an entirely different set of circumstances and use my words with an entirely different context to dig yourself out of this.”

She cocks her chin and her eyebrow at the same time, stares at him through flesh and bone and kills the cells of him with just that look. “And just what am I digging myself out of?” She asks, hushed and unwavering. “Are you saying I did something to you?” And he feels it that yes, she did. Yes, you did do something to me. Now apologize so we can make up. Now apologize so we can make up. Now apologize so we can make up. “That I can’t even try to be happy without you making it all about yourself?”

Systems failure. He shuts down, her eyes a blue screen of death, their shallow breathing the beep, beep, beep of something wrong and coded. “He makes you happy,” he says blankly.

“I didn’t – ” air whistles through her nose as her face falls, but he’s not looking at her. “I didn’t say that.”

“That’s good.” He means it in a way.


“I’m happy that you’re happy.”

“Will you–”

“Don’t tell him that exploding cadaver story. It’s a great story. I love it. But it’s gross, Scully. You’re weird sometimes.”

“Jesus, will you just–”

“That’s a good thing. It’s a great thing. But maybe hold that one in until the sixth month anniversary or–”

Shut up!” Scully shouts, and he snaps his mouth shut and falls back against the couch. They sit in awkward silence, with Scully holding her head in her hands.

“I should go,” he says finally. There are a million meanings in it, none he’ll ever really follow through with. He should go, though. He really should.

“Don’t,” Scully demands roughly. Okay. Alright. He can put the hurt away and revisit it later. They say it’s better fermented. Fine wine. They say you can really tell the difference.

“What do you want me to say, Scully?” He whispers. She shakes her head and looks away and he knows there are tears in her eyes and he’s sorry he ever said anything. “Tell me what you want me to say.”

Her breath hitches. Her shirt is all bunched up in the middle. Her hand falls off of her lap and she inches it toward him, an offering, a sacrifice, something. He tentatively takes it in his own.

Companions plus faction leaders see get Sole get gravely injured and while trying to help them, they try to walk it off and continue the fight
  • <p> <b><p></b> <b><p></b> <b><p></b> <b><p></b> <b><p></b> <b><p></b> <b><p></b> <b>Cait:</b> One moment, both Cait and Sole were having the time of their lives, decimating supermutants. The next, Sole was screaming while a mutant dog tore up their arm. Cait bashed the dog's head in without a moment's hesitation. She was about to go back into the fight when she saw Sole trying to get up and grab their weapon. "Oh, no you don't! Sit back down Sole!" Sole said that they were perfectly capable of fighting, but Cait wasn't having it. She forced Sole to stay seated, then threatened them to stay or else. Sole begrudgingly allowed Cait to fix them up. After she was done, she pointed a finger at Sole and told them that if they worried her like that again, she'd kill them herself.<p/><b>Codsworth:</b> Codsworth honestly thought that Sole was invincible before he saw them get torn up by a feral ghoul. He told Sole that they should heal themselves while he takes care of the remaining ghouls, but Sole wasn't hearing it. They told him that they were fine and limped back into the fray. Codsworth couldn't really argue with Sole, so he made sure to take care of the toughest enemies. Ensuring that Sole would have it easier.<p/><b>Curie:</b> Curie lets out a rather loud gasp when she sees the blood blossoming on Sole's thigh while they were fighting gunners. Curie tries to treat it right away, even with Sole telling her to stop over and over again. Sole just keeps on firing their gun while Curie patches their leg up as best she can with them standing. When the last of their enemies were down, Curie properly fixes Sole's leg, not noticing their piercing stare until she glanced up. "What's the matter madam/monsieur​..?" She looks quite shocked. "You got in my way during the fight!" Curie winces and tiltes her head down. "I-I'm sorry, but you seemed to b-be in pain..." She looked up. "I just wanted to help, really!" Sole put their hand on their kind hearted companion's shoulder. "I know Curie, but next time help me when everything wanting to kill us is dead."<p/><b>Danse:</b> Sole got knocked out for a few seconds when a synth hit them with a shock baton. Danse quickly destroyed it, before turning to Sole with his brow furrowed in worry. "You okay soldier?" Sole blinked out the remaining spots in their vision. "Yeah, I'm fine." They tried to stand, but ended up falling right back down. They tried twice more before Danse commanded them to stay. Sole tried to protest, but to no avail. They couldn't disobey a direct command from someone with a higher rank than them. By the time Danse returned, Sole was able to walk, but Danse still had them lean on him. After a few minutes of silence, Sole looked up at Danse and quietly asked him, "Please don't tell Elder Maxson about my screw up today." Danse kept looking forward, but there was a small smile on his face. "Of course soldier. I know you'd do the same for me."<p/><b>Deacon:</b> Sole and Deacon were doing fairly well against a group of raiders up until Sole slipped and got shot multiple times in the stomach. Deacon turned around when he heard Sole's scream. His eyes went wide, panicking for a second before pulling himself together. He shot the raiders around them before running up to inspect Sole's injuries. They tried telling him that they're fine, but coughed up blood while doing so. "Uh-huh. I've heard some pretty bad lies in my time, but I think that one just took the cake. Sorry, but you're staying where you are." All Sole could do was groan and lean their head back while Deacon finished up. He already had stimpacks ready when he came back to Sole's spot. They ended up camping there for the night, giving Sole plenty if time to think about how lucky they are to have Deacon as a companion.<p/><b>Dogmeat:</b> Sole gets grazed by a feral's bony hands while in downtown Boston. Dogmeat thinks that Sole is seriously hurt, so he goes absolutely berserk on the rest of the ferals. 'Must protect human!' Sole ends up not being able to shoot anything because Dogmeat's in the way. He gets rewarded with a brahmin steak later on for being such a good boy.<p/><b>Hancock:</b> Hancock damn near went feral when Sole got seriously hurt by a raider. He only increased the violence when he saw that Sole was trying to help him, scared that they'd get in an even worse condition. He was not going to lose the one good thing he had left on this world. When he saw Sole's dumbfounded look after he was done, he burst out laughing. "Chalk that up to 'reasons why I'm awesome." That snapped Sole out of it. "Yeah, yeah. Just fix me up already." He did it without hesitation and helped Sole to their feet. While they were walking away, Hancock ruffled Sole's hair affectionately, and told them not to worry him so much. Sole just smirked and said that they couldn't promise anything.<p/><b>MacCready:</b> While fighting a bunch of gunners, Sole was flung across the street by a man in power armour. "Holy fu-frick!" MacCready's eyes went wide when he saw his friend sprawled across the pavement. Thankfully, Mac shot the guy between the eyes before he could deliver the final blow. MacCready was relieved when he saw Sole get up, but that was quickly replaced by fear when they suddenly clenched their abdomen. "Boss! Are you okay?" Sole grimaced more than they smiled, but they assured him that they were alright. In reality, Sole just didn't want to worry him. A few broken bones is nothing. MacCready was a bit skeptical, but trusted Sole to know what they were doing. The poor guy never learned that Sole was actually very hurt.<p/><b>Nick:</b> Nick thought he was going to overheat with how hard he was working to keep Sole safe. Sole had just gotten a nasty gash from a mirelurk a few minutes prior, and Nick didn't want them to over exert themselves with more fighting. When the last mutated crab was down, Nick went to heal Sole straight away. They tried pushing him away, insisting that they were fine. Nick stared them down and said, "Sole." That one word was enough to make Sole give in. They couldn't compete with Nick's stern voice. He had a smug smile the entire time he was fixing them up.<p/><b>Piper:</b> "OH MY GOD! BLUE!" Needless to say, Piper was downright terrified. The last thing she wanted was for her best friend to die. She didn't even wipe out the rest of the enemies, she just picked up Sole and ran. She ran until she came across Diamond City. Piper took Sole to the clinic, demanding immediate medical attention. All the stress made Piper pass out on her friend's cot after the doc fixed them up. She was just glad that Sole would be alright.<p/><b>Preston:</b> </b> There was only one stingwing left when it stung Sole. Preston made short work of it, but the poison was spreading quickly, making Preston tear up because he didn't know how to save his friend. He soon sobered, however, when he saw Sole start to walk away. "Where do you think you're going? We need to get you help!" Sole didn't even glance back, probably because they were wincing. "Eh. I'll be okay." Preston wasn't going to let them have their way. He ran up to them, and without warning, hefted Sole over his shoulder. He ran all the way to the nearest settlement, even with Sole demanding he put them down.<p/><b>Strong:</b> He let Sole get back up and continue to fight after they got hurt by some mutants. He would've thought them weak if they hadn't. Strong did go on ahead to take the brunt of the fire, so that Sole wouldn't die of course. Then who would help him find the milk of human kindness?<p/><b>X6-88:</b> X6 made a disapproving sound when he saw that Sole had been incapacitated by a stray bullet or four.vHe obliterated the remaining enemies before lifting Sole up bridal style. They asked him what in the world he was doing. One of his eyebrows lifting up in question was the only bit of emotion he showed. "I'm obviously taking you back to the institute to get treated." Sole started pushing against his chest, saying that they're not some damsel in distress. X6 sighed. "With all due respect sir/ma'am. Wouldn't it be better to get bullets dug out of you by sterile equipment?" Sole stopped and thought for a moment. "Holy crap, you're right. Well then, what are we waiting for?" X6 muttered a barely audible "We're waiting for you to accept the obvious answer," before calling in a teleport request.<p/></p><p/><b>Desdemona:</b> She couldn't believe it. One of her best heavies knocked out on the ground. They fainted because they saw a molerat. Now Des has to make sure that none of the 'savage beats' could attack Sole. A few minutes after Desdemona was done, Sole woke up. Des wasted no time in chewing out Sole, putting emphasis on them needing to get over their molerat phobia.<p/><b>Maxson:</b> Maxson would be lying if he said that he wasn't scared shitless. What with Sole bleeding on the ground, and him being the only one who could fight against the rest of the gen-1 synths that infested a building near the airport. He long ago told Sole to not get up no matter what. Somehow, he destroyed all of the synths, and let the tension leave his body. Until it came back when he heard Sole's ragged breathing. He spun around and told them to hop on his back. He didn't know a thing about medicine, but people around the airport do. When he arrived, he was dead tired, but he managed a smile when the doctor that took Sole told him that that'd be alright.<p/><b>Father:</b> He was absolutely mesmerized by Sole's fighting ability. So much so, that he didn't hear Sole's warning. They had to tackle him out of the way, which made them take they blow he was about to receive. He was stunned for a moment, but when he saw that Sole was standing back up with blood running down their face he scrambled back to his feet. "Mother/Father! Let me-" Sole cut him off. "No Shuan. It's my duty as your parent to protect you. Let me." It tore him up to do so, but he obeyed. He never looked up more to his parent than at that very moment.<p/></p><p/><b></b> ______________________
  • @conquerorofthewarriorprincess
  • Hope you like it! It took me a while because Tumblr deleted my original somehow.<p/></p><p/></p><p/></p>

summerfred1516  asked:

I've got another ask for you! (Tell me if I'm annoying, k?) So, for US/SF!Bros. I saw a lot of stuff about a S/O encountering an abusing ex and then the skelli comes over and makes the ex leave and makes sure S/O is fine and bla-bla-bla... but what about the contrary? What if the skele-babe was the one with the abusing ex and the new S/O's making sure they're ok? (Unless you're uncomfortable with doing this kind of asks, it's fine if you don't want to.)

HO BOY, you’re not bothering me at all! This was really interesting to think about and soooo fun to write. All of the below is assuming the S/O stepped in and got the ex to back off. 

TW for abuse/abuse mention.

Keep reading

Sorting the Paladins into Hogwarts Houses according to the way of doing things!

So your primary is why you do things, and your secondary is how you do things, if you want to read more in depth about how this system works, look here @sortinghatchats

 I spent way too long contemplating this, bear with me it is LONG, congrats if you get through it all.


Hufflepuff Primary and Hufflepuff secondary

Ahh, gentle cinnamon roll Shiro. He’s like Cedric Diggory, impossibly good and kind and nice and handsome and brave.

Loyalty, people, and fairness for his primary. His motivation is people; protecting them. He is understanding and forgiving.

Examples: He accepted Keith being Galra so easily. He let Pidge sway him in S1 E1 when they were looking for the red lion on the Galra ship to go help prisoners even though their priority was the red lion. He approved of the mission to save one of his own - Allura even though it was objectively an impossible suicide mission that would deliver their greatest weapon to the hands of the enemy. Didn’t matter, they had a person he cared about and is loyal to. Concrete people he knows and cares about are more important to him than abstract what-ifs and maybes. He loves his team, he believes in them, and he gives people the benefit of the doubt.

I think a pretty good argument for a Gryffindor primary could be made for Shiro too tbh, but at the end of it all I think people are more important to Shiro than principals.

For example, he put Pidge the person, Pidge and her needs, above the needs of Voltron, siding with her when she wanted to leave the team to search for her brother and Matt in season 1. What she wanted was more important to him than being able to form Voltron; the universe’s best hope against the Galra.

He also surrendered straight away when Sendak threatened Lance, allowing Sendak access to the castle.

In summation, Shiro is fair and he is loyal to people. People are more important to him than right and wrong.

For the secondary, with a motto like ‘patience yields focus’ it had to be Hufflepuff again. He invests himself in the world through service and support. He is a hard worker, dedicated, consistent, and reliable. In the second episode he’s the one egging everyone on to train seriously, and the only one who manages to land his Lion without crashing into the ground or pulling up way too early. He takes extra time to train and strengthen his bond with his Lion when everyone else gets to go on a field trip to the mall.

Shiro toils for the universe, and for his team.

He inspires feeling of safety and trust in his team, and that’s why they follow him. It’s a big contrast to how Keith would inspire his team as a hypothetical leader (which can be read below).

Overall verdict: HUFFLEPUFF


Gryffindor Primary and Gryffindor secondary.

He was the easiest to peg. His motivations, his values, and the way he frames the world is intuitive and felt. What he feels is right and wrong come to him intrinsically, and staying true to his felt code is important to him.

In the episode where he yells at Pidge that she’s being selfish for wanting to leave Voltron to find her family? That’s his innate gut response telling him that she’s wrong for wanting to leave, and because it’s so at odds with what he thinks is right, he just doesn’t get it so he lashes out. How could she possibly leave when they need to make Voltron to save the world? What could be more important than that? To Keith, nothing.

Another example is when gives up finding out about his knife and his mom in order to be there for his team. He does what he feels is right, at the expense of what he wants more than anything; to find out about his past. He isn’t willing to compromise his principals to achieve this goal.

He even suggests that maybe rescuing Allura in season 1 isn’t such a great idea because it could potentially deliver the universe’s greatest hope to their enemies’ hands thus destroying the world. That is pretty cold, (ice cold even) but he says it anyway because not saying it would be worse. Not saying it wouldn’t be keeping in line with what he feels in right and Gryffindors are all about following their intrinsic moral compass.

He is intuitive, and steadfast in his morality, giving him his Gryffindor primary. (Not saying he is super morally correct or anything, just that this is how he feels about his morality). 

As for his secondary, that’s Gryffindor too (to no one’s surprise I think?) He faces his problems head on and acts. He doesn’t subvert, cajole, or negotiate. He is willing to take a hit for what he believes in, he’s brutally honest, and genuine, and I think that this will help him lead the team in Shiro’s absence during season 3; that level of genuineness is inspiring.

Some examples of Keith acting like a Griffindor: He attacked Zarkon alone even though Coran told him not to. He saw the problem; he attacked it head on - no holds barred. He rigged up a bunch of explosives and broke into the Garrison to rescue Shiro, I mean, this kids has balls. He probably got kicked out of the Garrison in the first place for kicking up a fuss about Shiro’s disappearance (which Pidge did too, but her motivations were different, which I’ll explain in her part). I bet he had a problem with what the Garrison was reporting and he probably met the problem head on a little aggressively which resulted in his getting kicked out. At least, this is what I shall headcannon until the show shows me otherwise.  

Gryffindors have a way of believing their version of reality and righteousness so hard that it shifts the worldview of the people around them - verbatim from the sorting hat chat’s page, and I think that sums up Keith nicely. He is unbendable in his faith and righteousness and I think in time the team won’t be able to help but respond to that.

Overall verdict: GRIFFINDOR

 We all saw that coming. 


Lance is a tricky bastard, I feel like there’s a lot going on under the surface that he conceals behind a flirty, irreverent façade, but here’s my 2 cents:

Primary Ravenclaw and Secondary Slytherin

Hear me out!

It was easy to decide Lance’s secondary, and more difficult to decide his primary.

I think Ravenclaw for a primary because that is the constructed system. They create, modify, and outright adopt systems that give them frames and guidance for interacting with the world, and I think Lance has done this. According to the sorting hat chat page - They value truth. They want to find the correct, best way to look at the world and to interact with morality and the people around them. The systems can vary widely, and their inspiration can be taken from many sources. For Lance, I’m imagining his is based largely on his family’s morality. He values togetherness and friendship and companionship, things you would expect coming from a large family, but he also has this idea of heroism stuck in his brain. He desperately wants to be like Keith, but their reasons for doing things are just inherently different.  

Lance is fighting the Galra because he has decided that it is the right thing to do according to the moral system he has created. I don’t think it’s out of loyalty and obligation like Shiro, or an innate moral compass like Keith, I think he’s constructed his belief system based on evidence and information available to him, and on the system imparted to him by his family, and saving the world by flying a blue robot is just one thing that falls within his constructed purview. He sees that objectively Galra are bad, and that he needs to protect earth and the universe, so that’s what he does. Fighting in the war is a lot more of a personal decision for Keith, Pidge and Shiro. Pidge wants her family, Shiro was taken prisoner for a year, and Keith spent a year looking for Blue in the desert. Lance doesn’t really have as much of a reason for being there as the others so I think the driving force, or rather is motivation for being there is pinned up by his constructed framework. 

I think he could be given different data about the world that could possibly convince him to change his beliefs. (Not super drastically change as in side with the Galra, change as in realize that he doesn’t have to measure himself and his achievements against Keith’s or that he isn’t the 7th wheel).

In contrast, that sort of framework shift would never happen with Keith because his framework/system is innate, and to Shiro is doesn’t matter what he believes because he’ll do what’s best for people always; that is his system.  

Lance’s constructed system resembles Gryffindor quite a bit with the confident swagger and forced heroism, and but he is more willing to push boundaries which is probably why him and Keith argue and butt heads so much. Look at Lance bending the rules to take the alien chick he was flirting with on a ride on Blue? To Keith, his morality is mostly black and white. He feels right and wrong in his bones, whereas Lance is more willing to push boundaries and Keith just doesn’t get it so they argue. On the other hand, when they’re on the same page they work really well together.  

Whew. That was hard to articulate, hope it made sense? 

For his secondary, Slytherin because that is the secondary of constant change. Lance is adaptable and resourceful. He goes with the flow and takes advantage of opportunities when they come. Slytherin secondaries are good at spotting unexpected opportunities and rapidly shifting their aim and approach in order to snatch up the possibilities in front of them, and that’s exactly what Lance did when him and Keith were in the Balmera and he stopped Keith from running in guns blazing. He thought of a more clever plan twice that episode, closing the hangar instead of destroying the ships and teaming up with Keith to take out the soldiers by drawing their fire to himself to protect the Balmera while Keith went in for the kill. You also see his resourcefulness and flexibility when he and Hunk were stuck on the mermaid planet. Same in the first episode where he just rolls with the punches with Pidge when they run in to save Shiro. 

Something else about Lance: he presents the face he wants the world to see, singing a different tune as the situation requires, code-switching with ease. In contrast, Keith and Shiro can’t really be anything other than themselves. Lance hardly ever let’s all the artifice go to just be himself because that would leave him vulnerable, but I think we got a see a hint of his neutral state when he opened up a little about his insecurities at the end of S2.

When he and Keith are arguing, Keith is being genuine, he isn’t being anything other than himself, the way he said ‘but I cradled you in my arms!’ is painfully honest and genuine. Lance on the other hand is never just himself during those same interactions. He’s protecting himself and reacting defensively to the environment with layers of charm and contrivance. He’s sort of like a social chameleon, sampling the social climate before calibrating his responces (even though some of his chosen responses are pretty douchy *cough* flirting outrageously *cough* bickering with Keith *cough*)  Lance only lets you see what he wants you to, and I think requires trust before he is willing to properly open up.

Verdict: Gosh, I guess if I had to choose I’d put him in SLYTHERIN?? 

He’d make such a slick super charming Slytherin, and he is pretty super ambitious. Makes him a perfect foil to Keith’s Griffindor, they could still be rivals at Hogwarts haha. Lance’s adaptability and resourcefulness are his greatest strengths and that comes from Slytherin, plus a lot of what he does is driven by fierce ambition so let’s go with that.  


Slytherin Primary and Ravenclaw secondary

Pidge is intimidating yo.

Slytherin primary because she believes in taking care of her own. You see this when she was willing to leave Voltron, last hope for the Universe, to go find her bother and dad. She doesn’t feel guilty for valuing their lives over everyone else’s because they’re hers. It feels wrong to her to abandon them, her people, even if it would mean helping the universe. 

Fundamental difference between her and Keith; Keith would sacrifice someone for the greater good and not feel guilty about it because it was the right thing to do. If he saved someone he loved at the expense of the greater good, he would feel hella guilty. Pidge is the opposite. She would feel guilty af about sacrificing a loved one for the greater good, and she would struggle to even make such a decision because she is fiercely loyal to people she considers hers. Not prioritizing her brother and dad feels selfish, like giving into social pressures instead of standing up for what matters to her.

I think she’s only able to stay after the Castle incident because she adopts the Voltron team as hers as well so she feels like she needs to protect them too, just as much as she wants to save and protect her brother and dad, plus the team would like to save her brother and dad if possible so she hasn’t had to complete give up on finding them, it just isn’t taking center stage anymore. Now it would have been interesting to see what decision she would make if staying with Voltron meant that she would certainly not find her brother and dad…

For her secondary, Ravenclaw (duh haha). She is dedicated to knowledge and facts. She researches, she plans, she prepares. In the comics look at how she defeated all her teammates by doing research on all their weaknesses. She is hungry for knowledge and super skilled with tech. Yeah, this doesn’t need much more of an explanation I think. We can all agree.

Verdict: RAVENCLAW! 

Why? Because the way Pidge does things permeates every aspect of her life. She lives and breathes information and technology, and she would really flourish in an environment that encourages learning! I feel her secondary is just a larger part of who she is compared to her primary, it sort of defines her. Plus Slytherin Pidge would just be terrifying haha


Ahh, lovely beautiful soul Hunk.

Hufflepuff primary and Ravenclaw secondary.

Hufflepuff Primary like Shiro because he values loyalty, people, and fairness. He just cares so much about everyone and doesn’t want anyone to get hurt. You can see it in the way he went back to the Balmera planet to save Shay’s people. His reasons for fighting are to protect people, of course it’s the right thing to do but that isn’t what he’s fussed about. His motivations are rooted firmly in reality and he doesn’t need to think about right or wrong, he sees people in danger and he protects them because they’re people. He and Shiro have this in common. 

Hunk and Lance are the two in the group with the least personal investment in their world saving ventures, and the way each of them are motivated are interesting to contrast. Lance has constructed this framework where he is a dashing hero off to save the world from evil, while Hunk just wants to do what’s best for everyone, and he is fiercely loyal to his team. This really fits together nicely with the fact that he’s the defensive pallidan. Someone give him a hug and a biscuit.  

For his secondary, Ravenclaw. He has this in common with Pidge except instead of being dedicated to knowledge and facts, he is dedicated to tools and skills. He likes food, so he knows everything there is to know about eating and preparing food. He’s an engineer with the skills to build and invent vitally useful things, and so that is what he does to solve his problems. He isn’t a rush into things gun-blazing sort of guy like Keith, and he isn’t a resourceful go-with-the-flow guy like Lance. Not saying he isn’t a hardworker, but he doesn’t toil like Shiro. He thinks and plans and builds and collects knowledge like Pidge. 

Verdict: Could really go either way, flip a coin, but I’m gonna go with RAVENCLAW! 

Him and Pidge can be buddies. Although Hufflepuff common room is close to the kitchens… hmmmm… He’d be a hat stall for sure because I really like the idea of seeing Hunk in either house! Maybe Hufflepuff would be more healthy for him because he’d get support there for his anxiety and he seems like an affectionate guy…  I dunno, reader you decide that one :) 

So there you have it, some thoughts and ideas I had. Feel free to argue with me about this, totally cool with being convinced otherwise if you think I’m overlooking something or got someone totally wrong. 


messedupessy  asked:

Us Papyrus and Uf Papyrus with a male S/O because most the time even if the S/O isn't gendered do they almost always have a fem body in most imagines that I have seen let's give the guys some love? Have no idea for anything specific except that I would love some fluff, maybe cuddles, anything will do :D though I got a sort of idea while writing this, the skellies realising they are falling for their male friend who they are not sure swing that way? I don't know anymore, you decide~

(alright, i apologize for taking a bit to finish up this prompt! you’re absolutely right, there’s nowhere near enough plainly-stated male s/o content for those sweet skeleton feelings around… i’m happy to give this a shot- so let’s see what may be brewing for Stretch and in Edge’s mind on that front, shall we~? <3)

US Pap:

“Okay, seriously, how do you get a huge mixed flavor box of popsicles and only have blue ones?”

You shot an exasperated look over your shoulder at Stretch, who was watching you with his usual tired grin while he took a drag at his cigarette. He shrugged amicably, his gaze turning briefly towards his brother’s room - it was unoccupied at the moment, as Blue had decided to go out training with Alphys.

“would you believe me if i said that Blue buys six boxes at once, then sorts them into single flavor boxes and delivers the other flavors to friends with the matching taste?”

“… Holy… okay, damn. Yes. Yes I would. That ridiculously kind-hearted son of a…”

You shot one last lingering look to the box of popsicles, but grimaced and shuddered briefly and opted to grab yourself a soda instead. You shut the freezer with a bump of your elbow and moved to flop back down on the couch next to your best friend.

“not a fan of that flavor, then?”

You tilted your head back with a groan before meeting his genuinely curious look. “Blue raspberry? Hell no. I mean, it’s cool, Blue can like what he wants, but…” you shuddered again before taking a swig of your soda, as if to wash the ghost of a remembered taste from your mouth. “Just… no way. I mean, first off - it’s only blue because there were too many ‘red’ flavors, so they chose to make cherry flavors darker, watermelons lighter, that sort of thing, and just decided raspberry could screw off to an antifreeze blue color, as if that was a reasonable choice - and second, the raspberry flavor. It’s actually mostly freaking pineapple and banana mixed flavoring you’re tasting, did you know that? I just… nope. Not gonna do it. I may eat junk, but I’ve got junk standards, dammit.”

(continued under the cut … //mobile link)

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Angel With a Shotgun

Peter Maximoff x Reader

Prompt: Supernatural/X-Men crossover where Reader is an angel - a very unconventional, non-standard angel - that hunts with Sam & Dean and falls in love with Peter.

Editor: @fetus-twink-howell

Beta Reader: @nerdy833

A/N: Assume this takes place over the course of about 6 months to a year, I suppose. Sorry if the lyrics make it choppier, it just… felt wrong to leave them out. Also, please don’t kill me.

Get out your guns,
Battle’s begun.
Are you a saint or a sinner?

  Your eyes were closed the first time you ever heard his voice. It had been eerily silent in the forest that day, the dense quiet disturbed only by the sound of your footsteps. You didn’t mind, however. It was not often that you experienced the pleasure of true silence within the human world - or heaven, for that matter - and you were taking the time to enjoy it. Even if the silence meant that whatever you had been hunting was not hunting you.

  You thought about calling the Winchesters, but disregarded the idea, almost with distaste. They had their own problems to attend to, and this small vampire clan was the least of them. Besides, you were an Angel of the Lord. If you could not handle these simply creatures - ones who probably could not even kill you - you had fallen far, indeed. You paused then, your ears having picked up a sound in the distance. That was when the vampires made their first mistake. They did not stop moving quick enough, and you heard one of them move.

  You hadn’t whirled around, hadn’t bothered to even look, you’d merely slipped your angel blade into one hand and gripped your shotgun in the other. You held still, listening to the perfect silence. Listening for the mistakes.


  You whirled, throwing the blade - with enough precision and accuracy to scare any being - and firing the shotgun after it. Both projectiles met their mark. The vampire, most likely a fledgling, was too slow, too clumsy, to evade, and its head toppled to the ground within five seconds of you throwing the blade. One down, you thought, retrieving your blade, four to go.

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Breaking Glass

Summary: All the air is punched violently from her lungs when his first three words are a question, one eyebrow arched high on his forehead in curiosity, “Who are you?” When the Snow Queen lodges a shard of glass deep in Killian’s heart, how can Emma remind him of who he is when she cannot even remind him who she is?

Also available on ff.net


“Where’s Henry?” she asks as they run across town, their destination marked by a dark cloud swirling ominously in the sky. His response is immediate, voice reassuring when he tells her the boy is with her mother, as is baby Neal. David is on his way with Regina and Gold; both sorcerers no doubt making an appearance in their attempt to show the town their dedication to turning the proverbial leaf.

The sun is blotted out by the roiling mass of grey and the shadow it casts falls over them as they near its domain, the snow beneath their feet thickening so their gait slows to a jog.

Magic crackles in the air, its smell becoming more potent the closer they get until she’s sure they are on the verge of the source. Killian pulls her aside before they can turn the corner to where their most recent foe awaits, arctic eyes intense as he drags her into an alley with a firm grip on her elbow.

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You slip on a black hoodie, tucking the empty right sleeve into your pocket, and pull up the hood to hide your face. You slip through the safe house quietly despite your injuries and look for things you’ll need. Paul and Patryk have gone out for supplies and you’re taking advantage of their absence to sneak out for a walk.

You weren’t supposed to be up but being bed ridden with your wounds was driving you up the wall. You were going stir crazy and you had to get out.

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Snapped |Part 1|

(Hey, guys. I would make this story into a comic, but i’m busy with my other one, simulation. So, enjoy this Dhmis fanfiction/story… This is my first one, so it might be pretty bad.) … Manny sat in his bed, sobbing as he looked through a photo album of hid friends, name Robin and Harry. Harry has been missing for about a week now, and Robin is most likely dead, since Manny was force fed him after he was murdered. He shuttered, as his mind seemed to go fuzzy. He looked over at one of his friends beds. “Goodnight guys.” He whimpered. “I miss you.” He switched off a bedside lamp he owned, darkening the room. The small child curled up in his covers, still sobbing silently. “Oh, somebody’s sleepy!” His eyes shot open, and he slowly turned to the source of the voice, and he saw another teacher. The lamp was turned on, and now had arms and a face. A jolt of fear ran down Manny’s spine. ‘Not another… Please, what did I do…?’ He thought to himself. “But that’s silly!” The lamp spoke again. Manny felt scared. He didn’t know what to do… The lamp started to move one of his hands toward Manny, and that when he knew he had to stop the teacher. “NO! GO AWAY!” He shouted, knocking the lamp to the ground, then quickly sat up, and then jumped out of bed and kicked the lamp to the wall. Manny ran out of the room and slammed the door. He looked around for a second, looking for somewhere to hide. He ran to the nearest room, which was the kitchen. He ran into the kitchen as fast as he could. Manny didn’t know where to hide… He jumped onto the counter without thinking, and tried to smash the window with his hands. He hit it with all his might, as hard as he could, but he couldn’t even get it to crack. He held his head and cried. He turned around, and tried to look for anywhere, somewhere so hide. “…This is where the food teachers where…” he mumbled to himself. He looked at the table, which still had the cans, and blood stained on it. He buried his head into his knees, and continued to cry. “I’m so sorry Robin… I’m sorry i’m sorry i’m sorry…” He blamed himself for the death of Robin. He ate him… It should’ve been himself. “Where you running off to?” Manny screamed, and looked up. The lamp was now sitting on the table with all the cans. Manny didn’t know what to do. He looked around, trying to look for something. “Y'know, it’s rude to knock someone over!” The lamp continued to speak, trying to get Manny’s attention. Manny tried to ignore him, and kept looking for something. And then his eyes twitched and set them on the knife box. ‘If I can just get one of those knifes…’ he thought to himself. “HEY!” The lamp screeched. Manny adjusted his vision towards him, as he slowly shifted over to the knife box. “You must be cranky! You need more sleep!” Manny let out a small “mm-mmh.” And dashed his eyes over to the knife box. He hoped the lamp wasn’t noticing… The lamp didn’t seem to know… Yet. 'Just a bit closer… I can almost reach them…’ He thought. “But you can’t sleep without dre-” Manny reached over and grabbed one of the knifes, and threw it at the lamp, missing. The lamp’s eyes shrank, and he stared at Manny with a look of shock on his face. “U-um… Haha, you might want to slow down, friend…!” The lamp said nervously. “I… I WILL NOT!” Manny screamed, tears running down his face again. “MY FRIENDS ARE EITHER DEAD OR GONE BECAUSE OF YOU! You… YOUR EVIL! I HATE YOU!” He jumped off of the counter, and grabbed another knife, and used his free hand to hold the lamp down. “OKAY! OKAY! I’M SORRY! JUST CALM DOWN!” The lamp said, now panicking. “I… please… I don’t want to die! Get off me! I’ll leave i-” Manny cut him off. “ROBIN DIDN’T WANT TO DIE EITHER!” He erupted. He lifted his knife, gripping into it. “THIS IS FOR ROBIN!” He yelled, swinging the knife down, impaling the lamp. It didn’t scream, but it’s mouth let out squeaks and whimpers. “THIS… THIS IS FOR ME!” Manny took out the knife, and slammed it into him again, hitting one of his eyes. This time, some glass from the lamp shattered. Some of it got into his hand, and his hand bled a bit. He was to mad to care right know. He took out the knife, and placed it down. He then picked up the lamp by it’s lamp shade with both hands. He held him up to his face, looking at his expression. It’s expression was stained with fear, pain, and shock. Manny narrowed his eyes. “And this… this is for everything else you and your friends caused.” With all his strength, he slammed his body against the table, as the rest of his body shattered. It’s glass went everywhere, luckily none of the shards hitting Manny. He panted, soon getting lost in thoughts. 'He did more harm then good… that lamp would’ve killed me. I had no choice.’ His mind buzzed for a bit, then shook his head. He looked at his hand with the glass shards in it, blood coming from the wound. Some of the blood got onto his pajamas, which would stain. Right now, he didn’t care. After he picked up the knife, He slowly walked back into his room, and he noticed his door was still closed. But… The lamp left the room…? Manny didn’t hear the door be closed earlier… Oh well. He opened the door, shutting it behind him. He sat on the corner of his bed, and put the knife down. He began slowly pulling of the shards in his hands. None of them hit a vein or hit bone, luckily. But it still hurt when he pulled them out. He pulled out all four of the shards, and threw then onto the floor. 'Hopefully I don’t step on that…’ he thought to himself. He wiped the blood from his hand onto his overalls. “…I can’t stay here. Another teacher could come along, and I need to find Harry.” He said to himself. He looked at his pajamas, that where know covered in his blood from his hand. He had to wear something else if he was going out. He walked over to the closet in his room, and opened it. He grabbed a pair of grey sweats, and a navy blue t-shirt. He looked around for a sweater of something he could wear to be warm. It wa the spring, so the weather can be nice, but it can also rain, or get cold. He froze as he spotted one of Robin’s coats. It wasn’t his usual brown one, but a light coat, colored dark red. His expression turned sullen, as he took the sweater off of it’s hanger. After he changed, he grabbed a chair that was placed at a desk, and moved it to a dresser. He reached up to the top of the dresser and grabbed a key, that is used for the front door. He stepped down from the chair, not bothering to move it back. He moved to the door to his room, and grabbed a brown bag that was hanging off the knob, then walked over to the bed and grabbed the knife, placing it into the brown bag. He turned a left the room, closing the door behind him. He glanced at the kitchen, and saw the can of spinach sitting on the table. Manny froze in fear. The food group terrified him. The fact that they forced him to eat his friend, and killed him… It made him shake in fear. Manny tried to sneak away, but a floor panel made a squeak. The can spun around. Manny stared at the can, and noticed it was cradling a large piece of glass from the lamp, and it was… Crying? Manny reached for the knife in his bag, but withdrew his hand. He stared at the can for a while longer, and then slowly walked off. A shiver ran down his spine. 'It’s just the stupid can… It helped kill Robin… Why did I spare it?’ Manny thought. He sighed as he walked up to the door and unlocked it using the key he has, and left.
(Sorry that was so long! This probably sucked, haha. But I hope you thought it was okay! I’ll make a second part if people care for this. Bye!)

I Would Get Beat Up (For You)

WC: 1534

masterlist || more michael works

It was half past one in the morning when you showed up at his doorstep with tears threatening to pour out of your eyes at any second. You refused to talk about what happened because you knew Michael would go insane. He let you lay with him in bed, he let you cry your little heart out, and let you scream into his pillow. He let you empty all your feelings out to him and he carried them with a strong back. After all, he was in love with you–he would conquer his biggest fears for you. He’d go head on into the storms for you. He loved you and he would do anything for you.

Even if anything meant getting beat up in an ally; even if anything meant ending up with a bloody nose, a black eye, and various cuts and scrapes all over his body.

He found the jerk who made you cry a week after you came over. Michael knew that it would only make matters worse, but he needed to get something off his chest. He couldn’t win the fight with brawn; he couldn’t land the man in the hospital but he sure could give his ego a few brutal punches. Or so he thought.

“He laughed in my face,” Michael mumbled to you as he sat on your toilet seat while you cleaned him up. You didn’t question your best friend at first–you just wanted to fix him–but then he made the mistake of mentioning your ex’s name. Michael explained that he saw him while he was walking over to your place, and that’s when the idea had struck him. “I just wanted to talk to him,” he explained in a hushed tone. “He broke your heart, so I wanted him to feel your emotional pain.”

You shook your head. This was your fight, not his; this was your life, not his.

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smugjemma  asked:

Melinda May, Jemma Simmons. "Are you drunk?"

Even a third of a way into her bottle of liquor, May can tell that Simmons is going to lose the hushed argument she’s having with Skye in the corner.

Sure enough, minutes later Jemma appears at her side at the bar. Her smile is tight, not quite reaching her eyes, and the tension in her shoulders gives away the effort she’s exerting. She moves to sit down beside May, then hesitates when May tenses, her head shaking almost imperceptibly. 

The spot beside her at the bar had been Ward’s, then, well, after, it had been Trip’s. The wound Ward left stings, and some days she feels the resonance they’d had running through her still, through the cold pit at the bottom of her stomach, the dread in her heart, the fury pulsing at her fingertips. With Trip gone the fire roars, refuses to be numbed, to be outshined. For all she’s survived, Melinda May can not deal with another after.

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Imagine #12 {Requested Joe}

Imagine based on Iris by Goo Goo Dolls

     I was diagnosed with Adult Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia a year ago, the day was most vivid then I would have desired. His words doomed inside the car, “I am so sorry ma'am, but you have cancer.” The weather that day in England matched my mood, the rain pelted my window as I pulled my car to the side. My body violently shook as I cried my heart out. Memories of Joe and I filled my mind causing me to thrash inside my shielded car.

“Why?!” I rushed outside my car wanting to run away from everything. The rain was making my body cold, I feel to my knees crying in my hands. I could see a source of light in my closed eyes.

“Excuse me ma'am but are you okay?” A young couple asked me, I just sobbed and leaned against my car. I nodded before pulling out my phone. My life felt out of control, it was spinning inside my hands and I can just stand here and watch it go insane.

“Y/N, baby where are you?” Joe’s tense voice spoke inside the phone. The young couple drove away with apprehension. My crying was vivid in the phone as I tried to speak.

“J-Joe it’s cancer." 

My weak, bruised, fatigue body sat up right on the leather couch. My breathing was unsteady from the cancer and the pictures in front of me. There were Joe and I on our three year anniversary. My hair was flowing in the wind as Joe’s hugged me from behind. I touched my bald skull and moved to the next. The sight of this photo was beautiful. I had my hiking backpack on and set up the Canadian Wilderness with Joe. I was all smiles that time.

And you can’t fight the tears that ain’t coming
Or the moment of truth in your lies
When everything feels like the movies
Yeah, you bleed just to know you’re alive

I could feel my hot tears roll down my face, the familiar taste of bitter metal was in my mouth. My gums were bleeding again. I extended my weak hand to the handkerchief beside me.

"Babe, I am home. I found this new receipt that I think will help with the sympto- hey, what are you doing?” Joe sat down beside me. He wrapped his arm ever so gently around my ribs. 

“Looking at the happy times.” I moved my body across from him.

“Hey, you are always happy.” Joe leaned forward for a kiss.

“Does it look like I am happy?!” I started to scream but the shortness of breath prohibited that. I motioned my arms towards the start of my body to the end. My clothes were bigger then Joe’s clothes on my. I turned into stick and bones. “I don’t want to be like this anymore.”

“You’ll get through it, we will get through it.” Joe placed his hands on my knees. I could see the pecks of tears trying to escape the corners of his eyes. I shot up, my head started to spin.

“Joe! This cancer I have is terminal, I am going to die!” Tears started to run down my face.

“No, you’re not.” Joe mumbled hugging his knees. I sat down beside him.

And I don’t want the world to see me
‘Cause I don’t think that they’d understand
When everything’s made to be broken
I just want you to know who I am

“Joe, I am dying. This cancer is not going to go away. Not now, not ever.” Joe immediately shot up.

“No, you are going to live! You are going to get better, I need you here!” I ushered Joe to sit beside me again. I could see the sorrow and desperation in his eyes. I remember the first day we met. His eyes were the best thing I ever seen, I felt lost in them. They were filled with curiosity and humor. I took that away from him, and that what was killing me on the inside.

“Joe, this is cancer took over my life. I can’t do the activities I want to do anymore, you aren’t able to do the same things you want to do as well. I will die soon. I want you to find someone you’ll love with all our heart. You’ll take her out to the scary movies, take long walks in the freezing cold, you will love her ten times more then you have loved me.” I could already see the tears flooding his face. “You’re going to fall in love all over again. She will be the mother of your children. I can already see your daughter in my eyes, she will be absolutely beautiful.”

“Please, don’t say what I think you are going to say.” Joe cupped his eyes in his hands.

“Joe, we are over. I love you with my heart, and I will always love you even in after life. I don’t want you to see my like this anymore. You have seen my in my best times and now you are finally seeing me at my worst and I am not okay with that. I love you, Joseph Sugg.”

 And all I can taste is this moment
And all I can breathe is your life
When sooner or later it’s over
I just don’t wanna miss you tonight

A little voice squealed as a pair of arms through her over a pair of shoulders. Her poka-dot dress was lightly stained with juice stains and candy residue. A petite women was rolling a stroller in her simple summer dress. They traveled along the ground of the carnival, the rides, foods and the clowns spotting the excitement in the little girl and the baby wrapped in blue. He leaned in towards a kiss to the petite women but the little girl kissed his cheek instead. They laughed.

“I am so happy for you Joe.” My ghost was finally at ease.