i'm not feeling the writing spirit today

anonymous asked:

Hey, tory. Existential Anon here. Can you write some Allurance for me? I'm feeling like shit and some angst mixed with fluff would help a lot.

(AN: Ah existential anon I missed you! Sorry you’re feeing so down! You’ve got it! Sorry, this took so long I had finals and some packing to do today! I’ve never written Allurance before but I hope you like it!)

Lance missed Earth. He missed Earth every minute of every day. It was something he tried hard to hide, to keep the team’s spirits up. That was what he was good at, making sure Pidge laughed or Shiro rolled his eyes. Add a little something normally to flying around giant lions in a castle ship.

But same days it got the best of him. Days like today were especially hard. He missed the rain on his face, the sand in between his toes. He missed the way his sister would climb on his back and beg to play space cadets. He even missed the sound of horns blaring and traffic lights that took too long.

Allura found him laying in the main cabin, scrolling through the planets and staring longingly at Earth: so far away it seemed impossible to reach again. It was unusual to see him so pensive.

“Lance? Are you feeling ill?” the princess asked, sitting beside him.

He gave a half-hearted grin, “Nothing your pretty face can’t fix.”

She rolled her eyes, gently placing a hand on his head. “I miss Altea dearly. I miss the way the flowers smell. I miss my father and mother and all the familiar things. It’s strange having nowhere to call home now. But when we defeat Zarkon, you’ll go back to Earth. Your home will never have the same fate as mine.”

“You think so?” He seemed brighter now. His smile was genuine again.

“I know it for certain.” Before she left, she placed a tender peck on his cheek. It was so quick, Lance swore he must have been dreaming. But the blush on the princess’ face told him otherwise.

(AN: I hope you enjoyed! I take requests so hop into my ask box whenever!)

Request -- hello, I got my exam results back today and I'm feeling really down about them, didn't do to well with everything that was going on in my life ( depression & self-harm). Could you write a Teen!Deanx Teen!Reader to cheer me up? Just really fluffy

(For trench-coat-angel-of-mine. I used the setting for Season 9, episode 7 “Bad Boys”, where Dean is 16. Hope you like it! xx)

The Hurleyville, New York air seemed to suffocate you as you ran towards the place where you could find the one person who could lift your spirits up over and over again, no matter what. Life had just been seemingly trying to strangle you lately, not giving you a chance to gasp for breath before its hold tightened around you; you just wanted to get rid of the horrid feeling and find relief in the arms of Dean Winchester, whose hold could melt any any negativity that was swirling around in your head.

You visibly became more relaxed when you saw the sign that read SONNY’S HOME FOR BOYS, knowing that the guy that you so desperately needed to see was just inside of the house you were walking towards. As you walked the cracked pavement, you smiled slightly at the sight of the toys scattering the green lawn that the smaller boys played with and waved to a twelve-year old shooting a basketball. He gave you a toothy grin in reply, and you wondered how exactly he had ended up here, in a home for “delinquents”. You knew that Dean had come here to serve punishment for stealing bread when he lost the food money that his father had given him, but that didn’t bother you; it had been out of the goodness of his heart and his care for his little brother. That’s what you loved about Dean; even though others couldn’t quite see it through the way that he expressed it, he was very compassionate about other people.

After knocking on the door, you waited for several moments before Ruth answered; the usual hard-faced woman gave you a sweet smile, and you returned one back to her. She had a soft spot for you, and whenever you visited, she was more than happy to welcome you.

“Hello, Y/N,” she greeted you, eyes bright. “Are you looking for Sonny?”

“Yes, ma’am,” you responded politely. “Is he here?”

“I’ll go get him for you, sweetie. Just one second.”

She shuffled away, and called up the stairs for the ex-criminal who ran the home; there was some knocking on doors and soft murmuring, soon followed by feet clomping down the stairs. Joy shot through your veins when Dean, next to Sonny, came into view, giving you a breathtaking smile. He walked through the doorway and gathered you up in his arms, and you burrowed your head into his chest, his arms around you immediately making you feel at home and blissful.

“Hey,” he mumbled, happiness evident in his voice.

“Right when Ruth told me that you were here, I got Dean,” Sonny told you, eyes twinkling at the sight of the two of you. “This kid just can’t stop talking about you.”

Dean’s cheeks flushed, his green orbs embarrassed. “Sonny…come on.”

He held up his hands in defense. “Hey, I’m not going to take the truth back! Anyway, how’s it going, Y/N?”

“…Fine,” You shifted as you spoke. “Is Dean free for a couple of hours?”

“Did you do all of the chores that were assigned to you today?” Sonny turned to the Winchester, and he nodded eagerly.

“Yes, sir,” he replied. “And I swear, I’ll be back before dinner.”

“That’s what I like to hear! You’re free to go.”

A “goodbye” directed towards Sonny left your lips before Dean intertwined his hand with yours, leading you away from the home. It felt beyond great to be trusted enough by Sonny to leave the house with Dean, and even greater to finally be with him. The two of you didn’t speak much as you headed a couple of blocks away, just enjoying the sun beating down on both of you, the blend of the wind softly whistling past you and making a nice blend for a perfect day. Soon enough, you approached an old park that consisted of a playground of faded color that sat on top of wood chips; right where the tan shavings ended was where lush grass began, and not too far away from the slides and swings, a huge oak tree stood proudly and offered shelter for anybody or anything that needed it under its branches and shadow. This is where you and Dean liked to spend time with each other, just talking as if you had all of the time in the world and expressing your affections.

Dean sat down with his back against the trunk of the tree and you did the same, crossing your legs and sighing. Your eyebrows were furrowed together and you were wringing your hands, something that you did when you were nervous; he picked up on this right away, taking both of your hands this time in order to put a stop your anxious habit.

“What’s wrong?” he asked gently, and even though his touch made you relax, you still felt like you couldn’t speak; your words were lodged in your throat, your sudden fear not allowing them to pass.

“I…” You swallowed hard, looking down in order to avoid his concerned gaze and stopping your sentence when it had barely started.

“Baby,” His tone was full of worry, and he cupped your face in his hands so you would meet eyes with him again; when he saw that yours were full of tears, he didn’t hesitate to press a loving kiss to your lips before murmuring to you, “You know that you can tell me anything.”

“I—I know,” you whispered in response, wiping your eyes. “It’s j-just..everything, Dean. The world isn’t just falling on my shoulders; it’s seeing how long I can hold up before I just crash to the ground. And I just d-don’t know what to do!”

"You just did what you were supposed to do,” The words were quiet, but urgent. “You came to me, you told me what was wrong and you didn’t keep it inside; from personal experience, you can’t keep holding it in. Hell, you can try, but you end up regretting it more sooner than later. But whatever it is that is bothering you, I will always be here, okay?”

“O-Okay,” He wiped another few tears that had fallen loose from your eyes as you responded, your heart growing lighter by the second.

“And you have to tell me what you want me to do,” he continued, eyes locked on yours. “Because it’s your decision. What would make you feel the happiest?”

“For n-now?” you asked, and he nodded; discussion of specifics could always come later, for there wasn’t any rush. “For now…I just want to be with you.”

The corners of his mouth turned up. “That can definitely be arranged.”

He put one of his arms around your shoulders and pulled you to him, allowing you to rest your head in the curve of his neck. Your mood was definitely happier now, and you grinned before kissing his jawline, a gesture that never failed to make him blush at least a little bit. The two of you watched as the sun began its slow descent down the stretch of blue sky that was gradually growing darker as you made small talk about anything and everything and exchanged soft laughter accompanied by small and passionate kisses that truly showed that you were both there for each other. Sonny didn’t even scold Dean when he walked back into the boys’ home with you five minutes late and instead, set a place for you at the table; he couldn’t be happier that you were in high spirits again, and neither could you, thanks to the compassionate, green-eyed sixteen year old that always mended your heart, even when it seemed like it was beyond repair.