i regret my words

How the team finds out Lance is Bi

*teams is at a male only populated planet*

Shiro: I wonder why there’s only males here.

Hunk: At least, I think they’re all males?

Pidge: *nods* Yeah, Allura and Coran both told us that this is a male dominate planet.

Keith: *I don’t know, he just, licks his knife or something edgy like that*

Shiro: Lance? Are you okay? You’ve been unnaturally quiet.

Lance: *folds hands, crouches down, and deeply inhales*

Team: ……

Aliens: …..


Keith: jeSUS CHRIST!

Hunk: *whispers* hallelujah it’s raining men

Lance: AMEN!!!

i promised i’d stop writing about you,
vowed i’d stop thinking about you.
but it’s 3 am and i fucking miss you.
i miss you when i’m in the
shower, in my bed,
on my sofa. when i’m walking
along the
canal, counting cobblestones
and reasons not to call
you. do you remember how we used
to walk along there?
i miss you when i pause at the end
of my driveway, you first kissed me there,
breathless in my blue skirt.
i miss you in my arms.
oh, what a traitor memory is. what a
saviour. i can’t recall how you
tasted, how you smelled. just wisps of remembrance. memories of memories.
but i remember
what you felt like.
it’s been over six months.
has there been a day i haven’t
thought about you?
i wonder how long i haunted you for.
(oh not long, not long)
i fantasise about reuniting. but if you
passed me in the street you might smile
if i’m lucky
but you would not stop.
ask me how i am, ask what i’m
doing, tell me good morning, tell
me i’m beautiful, tell me about fantastical worlds, tell me about faraway places,
kiss me, kiss me, kiss me,
i know this sounds like a plea, not a poem,
but, god, haven’t you missed me?
—  L.H.

castielismyfavouriteangel  asked:

"What the hell were you thinking??" - "To be completely honest: nothing."

The first time they kiss, it’s not a kiss at all.

Castiel is kneeling in the mud, and there’s a slow tide of panic starting to wash over him, because Dean isn’t breathing. Castiel killed the creature that dragged Dean under the surface, had immediately pulled Dean up for air and onto the shore, but Dean still isn’t breathing. Castiel’s borrowed grace is weak and flickering, barely enough to light a candle at the moment and certainly not enough to do any kind of healing, and Dean still isn’t breathing. Sam is miles away doing reconnaissance in the town because they didn’t realize they would stumble across the monster so quickly, and Dean still isn’t breathing.

Objectively, he knows the concept of mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. He knows how human bodies work, he knows the complicated processes of the respiratory system. Knowing and doing are two very different things, but he also knows how long the human brain can be deprived of air before suffering permanent damage, so he has no choice but to try.

He expects to feel something - he’s not sure what - when he puts his lips to Dean’s for the first time. Maybe something like a shock from static electricity, or a vibration under his vessel’s skin like the rumble of nearby thunder, or a flip in his stomach like the moment before spreading his wings to fly. Instead, there’s only the burgeoning panic and the running mantra of breathe breathe breathe.

Castiel breathes air into him - air that he probably needs for himself. Angels don’t need to breathe, but he’s not much of an angel at the moment. 

He forces air into Dean’s mouth again, and again, fingers curled around the back of Dean’s neck. He’s pausing for another breath when Dean spasms, a wet noise clawing out of his throat, and starts to cough. Castiel immediately pushes him onto his side, and Dean heaves up water and continues coughing.

Finally, with a groan, Dean flops onto his back. He’s breathing heavily, but he’s breathing. The sheer relief brings sudden pinpricks of tears to Castiel’s eyes, and it’s such a human reaction, but he doesn’t care. He sits back heavily on his heels, and at the movement, Dean’s eyes flick over to him. There’s a moment where Castiel knows they’re both thinking about how close Dean came to dying.

Then Dean carefully pushes himself onto an elbow and raises his fingers to his lips.

“…dude, please tell me you didn’t mack on me while I was out,” he jokes weakly. His voice is hoarse and raw from coughing. “Talk about taking advantage of a guy when he’s down. C’mon, man, you’re better than that.”

Joking is good. If Dean is joking, he’s going to be all right.

Castiel huffs and manages a faint smile. “A little gratitude would be nice.”

Keep reading

‘’Sometimes, I think, it’s better if we are like what we fucking are now-

       And those times, I regret for not doing anything for him.
               For hurting him, for punishing him for being born quirkless…
                       I wonder if he hates me as much as I love him.’’

Nessian Moments in ACOWAR
  • Cassian offering to train Nesta
  • Cassian in utter stillness at Nesta’s devastating beauty
  • Cassian’s eyes darting to her neck (because he remembers what happened in front of her fireplace when they were alone together)
  • “You come between a male and his mate, Nesta Archeron, and you’re going to learn about the consequences the hard way.” Tell us about those consequences Cassian. Do you personally know from experience?
  • Cassian gazing at Nesta with “sorrow and longing”
  • “Because I can’t stay away.”
  • Cassian purring at Nesta
  • Cassian giving Nesta a “come-hither” gesture
  • Nesta calling him and “oversized bat who likes to throw temper tantrums”
  • “I’m a warrior. I’ve walked beside Death my entire life. I would be more afraid for her, to have that power. But not afraid of her. Nothing about Nesta could frighten me.”
  • Cassian being disappointed by the fact Nesta might now want to fly again after Rhysand’s grueling flight.
  • Cassian conveying a silent order to Nesta to get come to his side out of sight of Amren’s wrath. Which Nesta obeys.
  • Cassian reaching his fingers back to find Nesta behind him. And her peeking over his shoulder in such a cute manner
  • Nesta being distracted by Cassian’s wingspan and losing focus during her training with Amren
  • Calling her “Nes”
  • Cassian finding her after she was almost kidnapped by the Ravens
  • Nesta asking where Cassian is after the Summer Court battle. Clearly worried for Illyrian.
  • Cassian taking her hand in his own. Eyes never leaving Nesta’s as they are winnowed to the Court of Nightmares.
  • When he knows something is wrong with Nesta during the meeting at the Dawn Court
  • Cassian brushing his hand on Nesta’s forehead and giving her a quick self-defense lesson before she leaves for Graysen’s estate.
  • Nesta listening to the Illyrian solders whisper about how well Cassian fought in battle
  • Nesta sensing that Cassian was hurt in battle and then bandaging his hand herself
  • “Nothing can harm you here.” Cassian supporting Nesta as she finds the Cauldron with her witch powers.
  • Nesta wearing fighting leathers for the first time and wielding a knife at Cassian’s insistence.
  • “CASSIAN!”
  • Nesta saving Cassian by breaking through his fighting spree and screaming for him. He flies to her without another thought.
  • Nesta and Cassian facing down Hybern.
  • “I have no regrets in my life, but this.” His words shook with every word. “That we did not have time. That I did not have time with you, Nesta.”
  • THE KISS!!!
  • Nesta covering Cassian with her own body. They would go together.
  • Nesta possibly using her powers to heal Cassian after the final battle.
  • To be continued…

QUESTION: what keeps you up at night?

A) you race for the skies and get left behind,
wings buckling.
there is no one waiting to catch you.

B) you have known how to swim for thirteen years,
over, under, kick, breathe.
you also know that if you expel all of your air,
you can finally sink.

C) at least icarus had a story to tell.

—  but the worst dreams of all are when you fly
Rebelcaptain fic: all the rumours say

For @rebelcaptainprompts #8: agony, fingers and shiver 

   Sometimes, she had to stop and wonder briefly about how the hell she had ended up here.  

   Somehow, Jyn Erso had gotten through the initial bloodshed and trauma of being dragged bloodied and broken, but ultimately alive, off Scarif. She had worked her way through the appropriate length of time it had taken for the screaming night terrors to work their way down to just the occasional nightmare. She’d been a shell of herself for so long that she’d even had to relearn who she was without aliases to hide behind. But she’d had Cassian at her side. Somehow, that had made it ok.

   She’d told herself that she’d stayed with the rebellion because she believed in the cause. But really, she had just believed in him.

   (“Are – are we ever going to talk about this?” he had gasped once, face buried in her shoulder as she was pressed against the bare wall of his room. Their hands had fumbled, everything new and awkward and thrilling and Jyn had desperately kissed away the answer.

   Someday, she had thought.

   I promise, someday).

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hinata: (◡‿◡✿)
hinata: (ʘ‿ʘ✿) ”what you say ’bout me”
hinata: (ʘ‿ʘ✿)ノ ”set the ball”
kageyama: ⚾\(。-_-。)  “Kick his ass, baby. I got yo toss.”

Okay but

Hamilton where everything is the same but instead of James Reynolds confronting and blackmailing Alexander by letter, he goes to Alexander’s house and knocks and when Alex answers james says “Is this the Hamilton household?” Alex says “no, this is Patrick.” And slams the door

Tantalizing: 08

Originally posted by jikookfantasy

Tantalizing: 01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08
Ship: Jungkook | Reader
Description: Back in high school, you were nothing more than a nerd Jungkook wanted to deflower, to get a good fuck from. When he sees you at the club, though, things have changed drastically, and his dominance starts to teeter on the edge.
Warning: No Smut, Slight Angst
Word Count: 5,281
A/N: This is my last chapter from the series, and though it doesn’t have smut and it might not satisfy all readers, I do hope you enjoyed and continue to stick around after this fic to see the others I have in store. This was my first actual series/fic to write and start here on Tumblr, and I’m glad I had such great support for it!

Keep reading

white person: maybe morrison earned his promotion to strike commander of overwatch through his own merit and skills, and racism/colorism towards reyes had nothing to do with it ? maybe stop making it a race thing ?

me, in my head: While I have no doubt Jack possessed the abilities needed in order to be a capable and effective leader, you cannot look me in the eye and tell me that Gabriel did not. Reyes successfully lead everyone during the Omnic Crisis – a war – and that takes a tremendous amount of ability.

If both men were equally capable leaders, then what reasons could the UN possibly have to choose one over the other? I can’t think of many. Age? They’re both around the same age. Gender? They’re both men. Race…? That’s where things get interesting.

Overwatch was a global organization and it needed a poster boy. An icon. A figurehead to admire. Someone who everyone can look up to and see themselves in, even in the smallest of ways. And the UN chose Jack, a blond farm boy from Indiana, as opposed to Gabriel, a Mexican American who grew up in LA. Weird, huh?

It’s no secret that many modern movies, TV shows, and video games tend to have white male protagonists, and it’s usually for one reason: relateability. They want their works to be ‘relateable to a wider audience’ so they make the protagonists white, which is problematic because it implies that whiteness is the norm and that brownness/blackness is something different. It dehumanizes poc. When the UN chose Jack in the hopes of making Overwatch more relateable to humanity, they were implying that Gabriel was somehow less relateable on the basis of his race. Which is fucking racist.

So yeah, Morrison may have earned the position with his abilties but racism definitely had a role to play in it because racism has a role to play in literally everything. Bye.

me, out loud: no fuck you puta

Here’s the thing, no matter how fun a day was, your innermost thoughts will still haunt you at night.

You still won’t be able to sleep.

You still will want to kill yourself.

You still will hate who you are.

You still will want to get rid of everything.

You still won’t smile.

You still won’t want to make it to 30.

You still won’t want to wake up the next day.

Because short lived moments of happiness, do not make up for the memories that have been engraved into your mind and never to be forgotten. Your self loathing will not disappear because you told yourself you were beautiful once.

That’s the thing, no matter how fun a day was, your innermost thoughts will still haunt you at night.

—  Beauty in IT /// what’s the thing?
into my arms

length: 1.2k

genre(s): fluff

warnings: none

simon gets his sandwiches and snowbaz goes stargazing

a/n: thank you to @bazwearsjeans for the beta!! and to @andonewillbringhisfall for organizing the leavers ball!! (sorry this is late lol) from now until july 31st i will be posting every wednesday so track the tag #egfics to see new fics ^__^


Baz finally got us some sandwiches. Well, he got me some sandwiches. He’d sat and talked with Cook Pritchard while I’d scarfed down about four. I suspect he didn’t want to eat in front of her; I understand all of that now. I understand Baz now. Well, as much as he’ll let me. Which is more than he used to, really. It helps that I pay attention; that I think about him. Not that I didn’t think about him before, I just think differently now. About him. About us.

Once Baz had decided I’d eaten enough, he’d bid Cook Pritchard good night and all but dragged me out the door and onto the Great Lawn. Which is where we are now. The Great Lawn. Stretched out under the stars, lying side by side. I can feel my wings digging into my back, but I barely notice as Baz takes my hand and rests it over his heart. I can feel it thumping steadily under my hand, a familiar feeling. Whenever we’ve shared a bed–which isn’t often–I like to sleep with my ear to his chest. He laughs at me for it, but it’s soothing. He’s soothing. It’s strange to think that.

My hand is rising and falling as with every breath Baz takes, and I feel it hitch when I start to move my hand. Just slowly–down and up–barely reaching his stomach. When my fingers finally brush across his ab muscles, they’re tense, like he’s preparing for an attack. “Someone could walk out,” he whispers, and I laugh.

“Haven’t I established that I don’t care?”

Baz just shakes his head and smiles indulgently. His smile grows wider when I roll over until I’ve nearly got him pinned underneath me. Baz’s hair is slicked back, but a piece has fallen out. It makes me want to free all the strands, so I do. He grunts in surprise as I slide my fingers through his silky hair, loving the way it feels in my hands. I tug gently, and Baz’s eyes widen. I do it, and grin when he groans.


“Snow,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady, “what are you doing?” Instead of answering, he ducks his head down and slams his mouth into mine. It’s just as much of an assault as before, but I’m used to it by now. I’m not used to this side of Snow, though. Tonight he’s clingy, all roving hands and cheeky smiles. I’m not sure what’s changed, but I’m bloody well not going to question it, now am I?

Snow lets go of my hair and brushes his fingers past my neck. They’re warm, as usual, and the difference in temperature makes me gasp. He takes advantage of my open mouth, shoving his tongue into my mouth and catching me by surprise. (Good surprise. Always a good surprise.) He tastes a bit like roast beef, and instead of being a turn off, it just makes my mouth water. I’m so hungry.

I put my hands on Snow’s chest and shove, hard. Instead of rolling off me, he just sits up on his knees, towering above me with a knee on either side of my thighs. I can barely see him in the moonlight, but his hair is tousled and his lips look kiss-swollen. He’s panting heavily and I want nothing more than to grab him by the collar and pull him back down to me, except I’m afraid.

“What the hell, Baz?” Simon asks, trying to catch his breath. “Did I hurt you?”

I shake my head. I don’t want to admit I’m afraid of hurting him. I try to subtly run my tongue along my teeth, hoping Simon won’t notice. That would be even more of a buzzkill. I don’t feel my fangs, I don’t even feel them beginning to pop out, and now I feel a bit silly. How Simon notices my faint flush in the dark, I have no idea, but he reaches out and strokes my cheek softly.

“You aren’t going to hurt me.” He sounds so certain that I almost want to believe him. Maybe I do believe him.

“Snow…” I say. “Simon…” But I don’t get to finish, because his lips are on mine and somehow his hands have made it to the collar of my shirt. His fingers linger at the top button.

“Is this okay?” I nod. Normally I would chastise him for getting my suit dirty, but it’s like something strange has come over me. Simon revealing his insecurities broke open something inside of me, something soft and delicate that I don’t recognise. Something that apparently wants my boyfriend to undress me right here on the Great Lawn.

As if reading my mind, Simon snorts. “I don’t want to get you starkers. Just–” He unbuttons the top two buttons and drops his head, kissing, and sucking at my neck until it feels like I’m melting. One of his hands slips back into my hair, and the other one starts to sneak down my chest until his fingers begin to creep under the hem of my shirt.

Crowley, is this what dying feels like? Every nerve in my body is on fire; Snow is attacking from all sides and I’m completely helpless under him. I’m convinced this is all I can bear when he starts grinding against my thigh. My hips jolt, nearly throwing him off of me, and then everything stops. The hands. The kissing. The grinding.

I groan. “Why did you stop?”

“Do you want to keep going?” he asks, sounding nervous.

“Merlin, yes,” I exhale. Simon still looks nervous, and his eyes keep darting in the direction of the ball. The one that’ll be ending soon. Oh. Oh. “We don’t have to keep going,” I say, trying to hide the regret in my words. “Not if you don’t want to.”

“Don’t be daft. Of course I want to keep going…just…shouldn’t we be getting back? Won’t people be wondering where we are?”

“No,” I say, thinking of my bed back in our old room; of all my old fantasies. Of pressing Simon into the mattress. “No, I have a better Idea.”


Baz’s voice promises something exciting, and the hand on my waist keeps dipping lower and lower. It brushes my arse, and I stiffen, but he’s only reaching for my tail. “So you don’t trip,” he murmurs, smooth as silk. Bullshit, I want to say back, but I’m too intrigued to argue. I let him guide me across the lawn, trying to hide how nervous I am. Where is he taking me? I must seem worried, because he stops walking.

Or maybe it’s because we’re here. In front of Mummer’s House. “Baz?” I ask, and he smirks at me. It starts to falter when I don’t answer back, and his hand drops from my back.

“We don’t have to,” he says apologetically, “I just thought…”

“I know,” I say, reaching for him, grabbing his upper arms and stroking them soothingly. “I know,” I repeat, “and it’s okay. I want to.”

He looks up at this, squints as he studies my face to gauge whether I’m serious. I am. I hadn’t thought I’d want to go back to our old room, but now that I’m here, it sounds perfect. I let my arms drop as I wait for his answer.

“Okay,” Baz says, sounding relieved. “Okay, yeah. Let’s go then.” He smiles as I take his outstretched hand, and we climb the stairs. Together, for the first time ever.

Side by side.