i'm sorry but every time i see this i tear up

anonymous asked:

"crazy detention stories"...go

They’re really not that crazy I don’t think but fine- but as I had detention at least once a week for 3 years you’re only getting the highlights here:

  • So again, I only ever got detentions because I was late to school basically every day. Every single day, the office wrote me a late slip with my name spelled horrendously wrong. Different spelling every day. The most famous butchering was writing my name as “Millie Hoagie”. On my very last day of high school, I was predictably late, and they spelled my name perfectly correctly.
  • So listen my ‘reputation’ in school was basically “quiet good girl who’s never done anything wrong, ever, in her life” and “teacher’s pet” and the like. And despite the fact I was there every time all the ‘Bad Kids™’ who were also always in detention were always incredibly surprised to see me??? Like they never got over it. Every time I walked into the damn room at least half the class would be like “MOLLY YOU DON’T BELONG HERE YOU’RE INNOCENT!!” 😂
  • Also despite the fact I was basically invisible in the school as a whole all the trouble makers knew me by name because, and I quote a kid from my 10th grade Spanish class who was trying to hook up with me at the time here, “Guys like me are afraid of you, Girl, we’re just plain out scared that we gonna corrupt you!” and I still don’t know what he actually meant by that???
  • Bu anyway, this apparent rep usually gave me an upper hand with the teachers monitoring the detentions. Because, you know, some were fine, some were bitchy, some were insane. But all of them were pissed about the fact they had to be there instead of heading home.
  • The rules of detention were literally just ‘stare at the wall and don’t talk’, depending on which teacher they might let the students do homework. But since I was apparently a great person and always had the class’ incredulous response to me being in the room, they usually let me get away with sleeping or reading a book lol.
  • Of course…no one said any of the other kids were inclined to following the rules lmao. These were like, all the class clowns™ shoved into one room. Things always got real funny real fast.
  • It would always start off with the coughing game. If you’ve ever stepped into a school you should know what that is.
  • It would then escalate to everyone in the room playing catch whenever the teacher looked away for a brief moment
  • Detention was always in the health classroom so someone always tried to steal a limb off the skeleton without being to obvious
  • Some teachers would let people talk ‘quietly’ so jokes were fucking abound
  • One time I was minding my own damn business and a kid slides me a note saying ‘in like five minutes ask to go to the bathroom but head downstairs to the English wing’ before he snuck out without the teacher noticing. I get down there and he’s at one end of the hallway and another boy is at the other end. Upon seeing me, these boys run full speed down the hall at each other, leap up in the air when they get to the direct center, high five with full force, both scream in pain, and then hit the floor, clutching their hands. I was cracking the fuck up and trying to convince them to go to the nurse but they wouldn’t listen. I asked the guy why the hell they did that. He told me ‘because we wanted a witness and no one will ever believe you’ 😂😂
  • One time my sorta-neighbor Mike comes in and the teacher asked why he had detention and apparently, the principal had asked him where to find his friend Jose, and Mike responded “he’s out picking cotton” and the principal flipped out at what he perceived to be a racist joke and gave him a month detention. But the thing was, Jose was in an agriculture class and he was literally outside picking cotton that they had planted there earlier. Jose found it fucking hilarious and refused to tell the principal to get his friend out of trouble.
  • As I haven’t been inside a school building for quite some time now I don’t know if turtling is still a thing but it was…quite an epidemic for my senior class.
  • It’s when you turn someone’s backpack inside out right? But it was a full blown war with these kids. Trust no one. Never leave the room. Never look away. Holy shit. One of the best moments of this occurred in detention, when a boy reached to get a book out of his backpack to find it was gone. After 15 minutes of searching the room, he found it, turtled, hidden in a filing cabinet in the front of the room. Everyone, including the teacher, was loosing their shit, because how did someone pull that off so quietly and invisibly without someone noticing??? No one fessed up. The class was in fear of the turtle ninja for the rest of the month, but they never struck again. No one ever discovered who it was.
  • Guys: It was me.
  • One time it was raining and the teacher was in a bad mood so he insisted all the windows stay open. He left for a bathroom break or something and this one poor kid, who was now completely soaked as he was stuck with a window seat, just said “fucking bye” and just…climbed out the damn window. Left his backpack and everything. Didn’t see him again for at least a month.
  • There was one guy who always sold ice cream out of his bag when the teachers weren’t looking. Where he was getting it from and how it stayed frozen is beyond me.
  • Oh my God sometimes all the indie singer kids would just come and sit on the floor outside the classroom and talk loudly to annoy us??? The hell were they trying to accomplish??? Your singing ain’t special and you won’t be famous, please let us die in peace.
  • One kid had detention because when we were running laps in gym class he jumped up to hit the arch of the ceiling and accidentally set off the fire alarm. The teacher that day insisted on continuously referring to him as ‘the delinquent’, as if no one else in the room had broken the rules or something
  • One time one of the gym teachers was in charge of it and long story short he started doing the jersey turnpike. True horror.
  • One time the teacher got a call and she had to go down to the office and the second she was gone this one kid’s friend runs in with a huge tray going “Y’ALL I STOLE THE LASAGNE CUPCAKES FROM THE FOOD AND NUTRITION CLASSROOM” and we dined like kings.
  • Everyone would sometimes just break out in song for no God damn reason
  • One time one of the guys in charge of the detention was A) Not someone anyone recognized as a teacher and B) Potentially Stanley Tucci. Like…I was about 80% certain that this guy was Stanley Tucci.
  • He refused to confirm or deny or even give a name
  • One time I was really absorbed in my book when all the sudden a letter flew onto my desk, an anonymous sender that just said “You have a soft, sexy voice.” Neither of which is true, I’m pretty sure, and I could not for the life of me figure out who sent it omfg
  • One time a teacher was freaking out because he went to a psychic over the weekend and was told there was a lot of activity around him so I looked him straight in the eyes and told him I’m a medium and I can see that the devil had marked his soul and he threw me out of the room and refused to take that class for detention ever again😂
  • It was a hot summers day. The ceiling fans were on their highest setting. A boy nudges me, with a small carton of ice cream in his hands under his desk. “What do you think would happen if I scooped out a huge chunk of this and threw it at the fan?” he whispered. “Jamil, no.” I pleaded, but it fell on deaf ears. Soon, the room was filled with confused screams.
  • Apparently all the other regulars™ had bought me candy grams around Christmas time so they were confused when I showed up to detention with no candy and apparently the student council member sent them all to the other Molly in the grade because she was the popular one and this lead to about 12 boys grumbling for two and a half hours like “The one damn time I attempt to be a gentleman” and “I know where she lives” and “Gonna gingerbread her fucking locker” I could not stop laughing
  • Oh God okay one time the teacher we had was literally. Off the charts.
  • Like there’s the chill teachers, and then the bitchy teachers. And then this lady. She literally reminded me of Stubel
  • So I didn’t even know who she was but I walk in and do my shy smile/quiet ‘hello’ thing and take out my book so she immediately zeros in on me as ‘the good kid’ as usual
  • But she literally seemed to think every other person in this class was a hardened criminal holy shit. She was all over the place barking orders and yelling. And of course, you’ve got a room full of class clowns, like they feed off teachers like this. So the madder she got the more ridiculous they got. I was literally almost in tears trying to force myself not to laugh because I didn’t want to risk her turning on me omfg
  • So she yelled and flailed about the room and they kept going with jokes and paper wasps and lying about their names and just doing literally every thing they could possibly do so this woman wouldn’t have the chance to rest
  • This escalated with every minute and came to a resounding end when the teacher decided the Australian Kid™ was chewing gum and picked up the trashcan and shoved his face in it, screaming at him to spit it out as he yelled back “YOU’RE ONLY DOING THIS BECAUSE IM AN IMMIGRANT
  • he was in charge of all the bullshit that day and it was hysterical but he wasn’t the one chewing gum loudly that was me
  • The vp came in to see what all the yelling was about to find a teacher shoving a boy’s head in the trash, one boy shirtless as another drew tattoos on him, the phone off the line with it’s cord wrapped around a kid’s neck, two boys dueling with skeleton arms, one kid with her leg out the window, a kid tying a skeleton foot to the ceiling fan, rubber bands and paper wasps flying from every angle, three people turtling backpacks, someone brandishing an epi-pen, sexual hangman being played on the chalkboard, someone eating ice cream and fanning himself with money, and me, crying into my book with my hand literally bleeding from all my efforts to not laugh at what I was witnessing
  • We never saw her in detention again😂
  • My one younger friend got a detention for being late and was really shaken up about it and I tried to tell her she’d be fine but then she got caught sliding me chocolate animal crackers during it, and subsequently got another detention because of this; somehow I was not viewed as an equally guilty party and didn’t get in trouble
  • This one guy came in complaining “You guys all told me to get a twitter and I get thrown in twitter jail my first day!” “That’s like a thousand tweets in one day, how the fuck did you mange that?” “Bitch I had a lot to say about McDonalds!”
  • One teacher came in and was like “I don’t feel like helping with homework but does anyone wanna learn how to hack a computer?”
  • Someone got caught pouring water out the window but when the teacher looked to see why she saw the youngest of the goats™ standing under the window with it’s mouth open waiting for more
  • One time the teacher wouldn’t let me go to the bathroom and after I asked for like the 5th time he said “It can’t be that important!” so I just pulled a pad out of my backpack and silently sat it on my desk while glaring at him and this 40 year old man looked like he was about to pass out and he finally let me go
  • I remember our final detention of senior year we were told that if we skip it we can’t graduate so everyone went into that room with a ridiculously nostalgic attitude and one guy finally stole the skull off the skeleton and we fucking tossed it around the entire time while singing and blatantly ignoring the teacher’s complaining lmao
  • I know there’s more but it’s 7am and this is long so all in all like…I do not miss high school but some memories are bearable lmao

“Do you know what it’s like to be named for the dead?” James asks his father in the middle of one of many arguments. “Do I remind you of a man we’ve never met? Am I in honor of someone you watched die? Because I don’t want it.” When James Sirius Potter looks at himself in the mirror, he sees a mess of reddish brown curls and slightly askew glasses and freckles everywhere. He sees hands that climb trees and grip tightly to broomsticks. He sees his mother’s smile and hears his father’s voice. Because James seems like the thick goofball of the family, but he reads history book after history book, wishing to never repeat the sins of their fathers. If he saw any of James Potter he wouldn’t recognize him at all, and maybe, he fears, that’s where he falls short.

“Do you know what it’s like to be named for the dead,” Albus says one day to Rose as they sit by the Great Lake. “Names of men who I think aren’t the heroes I’ve been told about. Men I’m told are brave but seem just as bad as the rest.” Albus Severus Potter loves being called Al and having his hair ruffled by his friends. He loves sitting on high ledges and looking out at the vast sky and thinking about what is on the other side of the earth. Albus Potter sticks his nose in old books and keeps to himself and has no desire for greatness in any form. He doesn’t want to lead a war or be a spy. He wants to be Al and bake with his grandmother on Sundays and give his sister piggyback rides. And, most days, that feels like admitting failure. 

“Do you know what it’s like to be named for the dead,” Lily shouts one day with tears in her eyes. “I’m not her, I’m not her, I’m not her,” she repeats over and over again. Because Lily Luna Potter is a Slytherin and brutal and fierce and full of fire and made of stone. She is not soft and kind - she is not the woman who saved her child from death. Because she can be selfish and harsh and unforgiving. She spends her mornings running through the icy, frozen woods and her nights leaning over windowsills because the rush is just right.  Lily Potter will fight to the death, but for no one but herself. And does that make her somehow distorted, she wonders as she flips through photo after photo of a young woman with pretty eyes she doesn’t have and gentle hands that she will never understand. 

“Do you know what it’s like to be named for the dead?” Fred chokes through sobs as he rushes past his mother. “Do you have any idea what it’s like to be named for someone who haunts us every day and every night? Can you imagine being named for someone you can never look like because of your skin?” Because Fred Weasley ties up his wild dark hair into a thick ponytail when it’s time to play Quidditch and sees deep brown eyes when he looks at his reflection. Because Fred is dark skinned like his mother and will never look like his namesake, and is he resented for that? Is it worse to look like the brother that his father lost or to not resemble someone he loved at all? Because, most days, Fred is already different than the rest of his cousins and friends. Fred loves to laugh and play the highest caliber of pranks, because Fred is a Weasley…but that is something that no one can physically see, and that’s what’s the most terrifying. 

“I know what it’s like to be named for the dead,” Teddy tells them all at some point, his hands on their shoulders or pulling them into a tight hug. “I know what it’s like to remind the person you love of all who they’ve lost. How much it hurts.” Because Teddy Lupin is named for a man who was killed alone and frightened in the woods over twenty years ago. He is his mother when he decides he likes the color pink and his father when his eyes morph into an almond amber. Because he is an orphan and no different from Harry…and he can understand how their father feels, because he wishes to honor those who died for him, too. Because he knows he is nothing like Ted Tonks, and yet his name carries a piece of his grandfather with him and that’s why Grandmother can only call him “Teddy,” otherwise she’d burst into tears. Because Teddy Lupin lives in between Harry and George and their children - born into war and only knowing peace. And so Teddy understands exactly what it is to be named for the dead, and knows exactly why it is so important to do so. 

And even as he tries to tell them all this, he feels hot tears running down his cheeks and wonders to his parents, who have never been there, “Do you know what it is to be named for the dead?” 

Might I just say @mortemistrata that I was a little unsure about this prompt at first, but I had so much fun writing this! 

“Good morning, Keith.”

Keith froze with one eyebrow arched. He slowly studied the brunet in front of him. “No ‘mullet’ this morning?”

“That would be rude,” Lance said, lips curled into a frown.

Keith’s face fell until he was matching the brunet’s expression. “Are you okay?” He zeroed in on small details, like the way Lance’s normally tan skin looked slightly washed out or the dark, bruised circles under Lance’s almost lifeless eyes.

“Of course.” Lance replied, tone even. “We should go before we are late to breakfast.”

Keith absently nodded, brows furrowed deeply, as he followed the brunet into the dining hall.

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I remember everything.
I remember how you used to pretend to be happy thinking no one could see through your act, but i did. I saw it all.
I remember how you opened up to me bit by bit, & i was so blinded by your strength that i didn’t realise that you weren’t getting better. You just got better at hiding it.
I remember how many times i had to talk you out of suicide & you promised me you wouldn’t go through with it ever, but little did i know you had crossed your fingers behind your back.
I remember how you called me at 4am that night & told me that no matter what happens i have to be strong, for you.
I remember how you said you loved me to death, i didn’t think anything of it. I should’ve realised what you meant by that, but i didn’t.
I remember how my heart broke as i read the note that you left me, telling me that you were sorry for leaving like this and that i was the best thing to ever happen to you. So why wasn’t i enough to make you stay?
I remember how angry i was at you for being selfish and for not thinking how this would affect me. How was i supposed to carry on without my best friend?
I remember how every little thing would remind me of you, of us.
I remember how as time went past, i slowly accepted the fact that you’re gone, that you’re finally happy, even if that meant without me.
I remember how i bumped into your brother the other day, & when he mentioned you, i smiled and for the first time in ages, no tears came out.
I remember how you used to tell me to follow my heart, so i did & it still led me to you.

mamma bakkoush and even though.

  • every time she sees him, she can’t help commenting on how tall he’s getting. you’ve grown again, even, you’re head’s going to touch the ceiling soon!
  • she doesn’t have favourites - really, she doesn’t; she loves all her son’s friends - but she always gives even an extra spoonful of food, winking at him as she does it, and even just smiles fondly at her and tucks in
  • sometimes, even will detach himself from elias and the boys and go to the kitchen, to help mamma bakkoush with the cooking. they would talk and talk and talk, about nothing and everything, and she teaches him all these little tricks, like how adding a splash of sour cream makes your eggs taste better
  • occasionally, she’ll find even awake at ridiculous times at night. 3am, 4am. she’ll be downstairs getting a drink, and she finds him, sat at the table or in the living room, restless, wide awake. “can’t sleep?” she’ll ask quietly, and even will look at her and shake his head. and so she makes them both a hot chocolate, and settles on the sofa with him. she’ll watch a film with him and listen as even tells her about the camera angles and directional choices and, ok, she’s really, really tired, but she takes comfort in knowing even isn’t awake alone
  • another evening, she finds him downstairs reading one of their qur’ans. when he sees her, he shuts it quickly and apologises, standing up awkwardly, and she just sits next to him and asks what he was doing, voice kind and quiet and gentle. “i was just interested, that’s all, i’m sorry,” he says. but mamma bakkoush tells him there’s nothing to apologise for, nothing at all. and she proceeds to tell him to read it if he wants to, and to let her know if he has any questions, or wants to talk about it with someone. and the little sparkle he gets in his eyes when she says it, and the smile that won’t really go away, makes her so so happy. 
  • but soon, everyone can’t help noticing that even isn’t…isn’t well. mamma bakkoush notices this. even’s mother notices this; has phoned about it in tears. he won’t get help. can’t see anything different about his behaviour. and mamma bakkoush tries to talk to elias about it, but he doesn’t want to believe it. says it’s just even, mamma, this is what he’s like
  • there’s a night though, where even shows up at their house unexpectedly and asks for elias. but elias is out, so he ends up talking to mamma bakkoush. and he tells her he just needed to get away. he doesn’t say it, but she knows his parents have been pushing him to see doctors recently. she knows he’s been refusing, that he’s found being at home….it’s a lot for him. she knows it’s tiring and terrifying and she can just see the exhaustion radiating off him. 
    • she rings even’s parents to let them know he’s safe and with her, and then she makes some hot chocolate and settles in the living room with him. even is quiet and subdued and just…not there, really. at all. but then even asks her if she can read something - anything - from the qur’an to him. his voice is quiet and husky and so, so soft, but almost desperate, too. desperate and somewhere between hopeless and hopeful
    • mamma bakkoush smiles and nods, reading a passage that she hopes will calm him. and sure enough, she’s barely been reading for five minutes before even stops fighting sleep and lets it wash over him, snoring softly, and she smiles and takes the hot chocolate away, popping a blanket over him to keep him warm
    • she’s about to go upstairs when she hears his voice again. he’s barely conscious - still asleep, really, but he says, “mrs. bakkoush?”
    • and she turns to him and yes, his eyes are closed, he really is just sleep talking, but she says, “yes, even?’ anyway
    • and then he opens his eyes. tired, heavy, teary. and he says, voice barely above a whisper and so, so vulnerable;  “can you pray for me?”
    • mamma bakkoush simply smiles, walking over to him and crouching so their eyes meet. she places a hand over his, pushing his hair away for his eyes and smiling quietly at him before saying, “my darling, i pray for you every day”
    • even falls asleep again after that, and it’s the first time in a while, mamma bakkoush thinks, that he’s actually slept through the night
  • then, one day, even stops coming over. the boys no longer talk to him. and she knows he isn’t her son, and that teenagers are teenagers and friendships can come and go, but she can’t help this ache in her chest. she just misses him. and she tries to encourage elias to patch things up between them, but it doesn’t work. eventually, they don’t talk about him much anymore, but it doesn’t stop her thinking about him, praying for him, hoping he’s ok
  • and oh, when even comes back. he looks terrified, like he’s anticipating the worst, all wide eyed and chewed lips, and she knows even, knows he will have worried about not being wanted here, worried that she’d hate him for what happened between him and elias. she knows all this, which is why, when she sees him, she smiles wide, arms open, and says, “come here.” and she pulls him into a hug, squeezing him tightly, then she pulls away and cups his cheeks, making their eyes meet as she says, “i’m so happy to have you back, even.” and she says it with such force, such sincerity, such meaning, that even really can’t do anything but believe her.
Plagiarized fics - asking for help from the 1D fandom

Hi everyone! I’m poking my head in your door from the Haikyuu fandom to ask you guys for help. I have spoken to quite a few people in the One Direction fandom thus far and I have been overwhelmed by their kindness, support, and how fast everyone I talked to acted to help me and my friend get this sorted out.

It came to my and my best friend ellessey-writes’s attention (confusing names, sorry! I’m Esselle) this morning that many of our fics had been stolen by the Tumblr/AO3 user Fruxoo, who has since deleted her accounts.

Here are two screenshots of Fruxoo’s fics, posted in April. The first is a direct copy of my story Hunger, completed last June 2016. The second is the summary from Ellie’s story Tea and Sympathy, posted January of this year. The entire text of every fic Fruxoo stole has been copied almost exactly word for word from our fics, changing only the names and other relevant character info.

I messaged her privately and asked that she post an explanation on Tumblr, as well as replace the text of her stolen works with links to our respective stories, in order to notify any readers who enjoyed these works. Unfortunately, she didn’t respond. Now that she has taken everything down, that’s no longer possible.

It would mean the world to Ellie and I if people would help spread the word about what happened. Last year, between the two of us, we wrote 626,000 words. We poured all our energy and love (and time!) into these stories, and to have someone copy them word for word, lie to people who were kind enough to comment or send asks as if they had thought up the ideas on their own, and interact with other people in the 1D fandom based off of love for OUR writing, is devastating to us both. This was going on for at least 2.5 months.

Besides the two stories listed above, we know As Long As You’re Smiling was actually copied from ellessey-writes​​‘s fic The Chronicles of the Virgin Asahi. We think this is the first fic they grabbed, due to the note on the summary. Here is a masterpost of all Ellie’s works from last year, and a link to her AO3.

They also took my incubus story Dreamless and reposted it as Lilin. This fic was posted as a part of a collab for my close friend’s artwork. reallycorking​​ drew this (VERY NSFW) art as part of a 30 day challenge, and the two of us worked together for a full month on Dreamless. Here is my fic masterpost for last year, and a link to my AO3.

I wanted to share links to the rest of our work because we don’t know how many stories she stole (it seemed like there were around 10 in total). We didn’t even have time to make a note of everything before she removed her accounts. So we don’t know what people read and might want to re-find (if there’s any interest cross-fandom).

Again, the One Direction fandom has been so incredibly supportive (Gina, Ange, phd-mama, Emmi, Lisa and everyone who was so helpful and understanding). Ellie and I started off the morning crushed, and now I have comments in my inbox on the fics that were stolen, and asks on Tumblr showing support, and it’s nearly brought me to tears. Thank you all so much. If anyone who sees this would be kind enough to get the word out there in any way (reblogs, just telling your friends who’ve read these stories, anything!!), we’d be incredibly grateful.

THANK YOU, to everyone who takes the time to read this.

Jealous, Much?

Originally posted by red-blue-velvet

Tom Holland x Reader

Request: Yes

Summary: The reader is jealous of Tom and Zendaya’s relationship. However, Tom is there to reassure them.

Word Count: 2,580

Warnings: language, fluff, jealous!reader, reassuring!tom.

A/N: Sorry this took long to post. I’m not sure of this one and felt a little weird writing it tbh, so any feedback would be greatly appreciated. Enjoy!


In the beginning of the relationship, Tom and you were inseparable. He wasn’t overwhelmed with several acting gigs like he is now. You both were able to sit and enjoy each other’s company without too many stresses.

However, that time spent together soon started to disappear. Tom began his Spider-Man film, while you continued your everyday job, trying to fit in as many hours as you could. Yes, it was a lot you were putting on yourself, but you honestly wanted to distract yourself from not being able to have Tom with you.

You missed him.

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Bring your daughter to work day.

Being a single dad and having a job as demanding as Spencer’s was not easy, but when he saw the little smile on his daughter’s face or felt the way her fist would wrap around his finger, it was all worth it. 

In which Spencer gets called into work on what is supposed to be his day off, and it’s so last minute that he has to bring his four month old daughter, Harper, with him.

a/n: based off of this request, i’m making this a series of one shots about spencer and harper so this is the first installment. gif credit to toyboxboy.

Spencer’s hand came down to rest upon his baby girl’s head, he cradled Harper in his arms and as always was overwhelmed with joy and love. She had finally fallen asleep after hours of crying and she now looked peaceful– seemed as though a bottle had done the trick.

Spencer felt as though he was way in over his head since he was a single dad but he was already great at it and had at least some faith in himself. He was off for a few days and could handle it at the moment to get himself together.

Spencer’s phone rang, the shrill sound taking Harper from her peaceful sleep and immediately causing her to burst into tears. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath as he silently cursed whoever was calling for waking up his baby girl, he was just as tired as she was after a night of not much sleep. 

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All Over Again

The first time he falls in love with Otabek Altin, he was sixteen years old.

Of all places, it was in Hasetsu. His fingers fumbled with the chopsticks in his hand, and the Kazakh took notice of it. His smile and his words were gentle, humouring, as he placed his hand on top of the Russian’s. Step by step, careful movements, a mother’s tutorial.

“Perfect, Yura.”

There had been something wrong with his heart right then; because just like his jumps on the ice, it flipped inside of his chest - it was a sensation all too powerful and consuming, unfamiliar and terrifying to the boy during the height in the Era of ‘What-the-fuckery’ of teenage years. He had to double check. Triple. Quad. At five his heart would wrench so tightly in his chest he had to excuse himself to leave. 

He didn’t remember where he went. 

It was somewhere on the ice when he found himself breathing steadily, his thoughts somewhere else. Somewhere where it was raining. It was always raining somewhere else. 

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the “dear evan hansen 10 things i hate about you au” that literally nobody asked for

I thought I was alone but @arimarris apparently loves this au as much as I do so here we go

v long sorry it’s under the cut

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gruntledbananafish  asked:

Hi there! I have a situation and I'm not sure what to do. I just joined a D&D campaign and I'm really enjoying it. However, one of the guys in the campaign made a rape joke in the middle of the session. Everyone kind of ignored it. I don't know the guy super-well so I'm not comfortable talking to him directly, but it really made me feel like shit, especially because I have some personal experiences (which I don't wanna disclose). Should I talk to the DM about this? What do I say?

I can’t tell you what to do, or how to feel in those situations. I can only tell you what I would do.

I would talk to the DM right away, and I wouldn’t apologize for my feelings. This is one of those things that I think is pretty binary: rape jokes aren’t okay, and I don’t want to be around anyone who thinks that they are. If the DM makes excuses or isn’t willing to take your concerns seriously, I would tear my character sheet up right there and leave the group.

The problem isn’t just that this guy thought it was okay to make that joke, but that everyone at the table didn’t have a problem with it. I don’t know how far you want to take it, and what your personal red line is, but I’d talk to the DM first, and then I would ask for a moment at the beginning of the next session to address the group about it.

I would say something like, “I really enjoy this campaign, and I like being part of this group. But the last time we played, I felt really uncomfortable when a rape joke was made at the table, and nobody seemed to have a problem with it. If I’m going to continue to be part of this group, I want you to know that I’m not okay with that. Maybe you don’t know that 1 in 4 women has been sexually assaulted or raped, and maybe you don’t know that when you make those jokes or go along with those jokes, you’re communicating to the women around you that you don’t take it seriously, and that you’re subtly communicating to the men around you that rape and assault isn’t a big deal. Literally every woman I know has been sexually harassed at some point in their lives. More than half have been sexually assaulted, and I know several rape survivors. Rape jokes aren’t funny to me.

“I hope that this was a thing that was just sort of blurted out, that wasn’t considered, that doesn’t reflect your values or who you are. Like I said, I’m having a really good time being part of this campaign, but if this sort of thing is not a problem for you, I can’t be part of this, and I’m ready to leave right now if that’s the case.”

Or something like that. I think you get the gist of what I’m going for. If they minimize your feelings, get up and leave. There will always be other games to play in. If they want to deflect it minimize it, because they’re embarrassed, give them a moment to react, and see if you can engage in dialog about the realities of sexual assault for women.

I always believe that it’s worth making the effort to educate and enlighten someone, but that’s not the only way to deal with these things, but that’s absolutely not your responsibility. Their feelings aren’t your responsibility. What I’m suggesting is that you make it clear that this isn’t funny or acceptable, and that if they think it is, you’re not going to be part of the group. In a perfect world, they’ll sincerely apologize. In a perfect world, they will realize that they hadn’t seriously considered the reality of sexual assault, and they’ll own their actions.

I know that a lot of gamers read this Tumblr, and I know that a lot of women read this Tumblr. Maybe someone else has advice or experience they’d care to share with you.

I’m sorry that you have to deal with this, and I hope that it’s resolved in a way that lets you continue to play in the campaign, and helps these dudes grow a level in humanity.

Me regarding love in LWA

So.. anyone remember this? My very succinct review of Episode 10.

Because it is time to talk a bit about this character, Andrew Hanbridge. First things first:

I don’t dislike Andrew

I think he’s a decent character and have gotten better characterization after his first two appearances, but that he was implemented in a bad way and got put in a show where he wasn’t truly needed.

Because that is the thing, Andrew was introduced in the LWA series rather than in the OVAs.

A big appeal of Little Witch Academia’s OVAs for many people (myself included) was the fact that it had an all-girls cast. It is exceedingly rare for an anime to have an all-girls cast and to not be revolving around blatant ‘girly’ themes. Little Witch Academia is not inherently girly, it is just a bunch of teenage girls learning to become witches. By cutting away the boys, the series removed the need to include common teenage girl depiction tropes such as excessive focus on romance, boys, looks etc. Instead the series allows the different girls’ character traits and interests come to the fore.

However, with the introduction of Andrew in the series, Trigger regressed to rely on some of these clichés. In the first episode Andrew appears, all the students go gaga for this stoic, aloof guy solely because he is famous and rumoured to be handsome. So basically all the witch students of Luna Nova (except Lotte, Sucy and Diana) are shown to be gossipy, superficial teenage girls. This portrayal betrays the series earlier depiction of varied and multifaceted girl characters. If a pretty boy is around, then they get reduced to this one-dimensional clichéd stereotype. So the way Andrew was implemented into the series detracts from one of the strong points of the series.

What is Andrew’s role in the series? Reportedly, Trigger wanted him to be Akko’s connection to the ‘muggle’ world, so to speak. But personally, very seldom does he feel like he actually fulfils that purpose.

Instead, it feels like he mostly just behaves like a male ‘Diana’ and made to appear in scenarios where Diana couldn’t perform the same function. Both come from aristocratic families, both are well-spoken and rational-minded, both use careful rational rhetoric to solve problems and both of their character growths’ is because of them continually being amazed and inspired by Akko.

But why? Why would you keep around two characters that are so similar in personality and in character development (at least on paper)?

This is why Andrew being teased as a romantic interest to Akko feels like such a slap in the face to everyone who loved Akko and Diana’s chemistry already back in the OVAs. It makes it seem that Andrew wasn’t introduced despite Diana already existing, but because of it. Like Trigger wanted to cash in on Diana and Akko’s chemistry but turn it into something more ‘acceptable’ for the general audience.

But this is where Trigger confuses the hell out of me. If Andrew is the endgame romantic interest, why isn’t it more clearly established at this point? Why has there been so relatively little time for developing Akko and Andrew together then? Why did Trigger go full speed ahead to develope and show how much Akko and Diana deeply care for eachother rather than with Akko and Andrew instead? Why is there so much focus on and interaction between Akko and Diana in the openings, while Andrew is barely there and doesn’t appear together with Akko?

And to quote from this:

There is only one character holding hands with Akko in the OP. And that character isn’t Andrew.

Because there is one thing that makes me mad, and that is ‘Dianakko’ detractors that refuse to acknowledge Akko and Diana’s deeper connection.

Because the way Akko and Diana have grown so close, despite their differences and initial misunderstandings, shows that there is an unspoken deeper bond between them. Even when they looked down on eachother, they still both show admiration and care for eachother, with neither of them knowing why. There was something that slowly over time drew them closer.

So I must say, as a lesbian, the level of affection displayed by Diana and Akko is to me beyond than ‘just being friends’.

If anyone would carelessly throw themselves into danger to save me like Diana and Akko do for eachother;

if anyone would scream with a desperate worry for me like Diana and Akko do for eachother;

if anyone would keep looking at me with a look full of care and concern like how Akko and Diana look at eachother;

if anyone would tell me to keep trying and chase my dreams, while grabbing my hands and being moved to tears, like how Akko did to Diana;

if anyone would tell me “You continue to astonish me in unexpected ways” while them thinking about every time I’ve amazed and impressed them like Diana did to Akko;

if anyone invited me on a broom like this

or if anyone looked at me like this before replying to my invititation;

if anyone would do such things like these, I would consider them loving me.

However, some people will never accept two girl characters loving each other unless they are being intimately physically affectionate, like kissing eachother. Until they are, it can be handwaved away and be explained that they are just “Gal Pals”, “very good friends” and so on.

If we switched out Diana above for Andrew, so that Akko and Andrew had shared all those interactions, you would definitely see people claiming that they are in love based on those.

This is a double standard that is sadly very real in real life too. Girl-loving girls have to go great lengths for their love to be considered “real” in the eyes of some.

Something that made me feel like I had giant pit in my stomach around the time Episode 10 was released, was how some ‘Ankko’ posts included gifs like these:

What the actual fuck? These moments were somehow considered “sweet Ankko moments” by some fans. One shows Akko being hurt by Andrew, while the other show how Akko very uncomfortably gets forcibly pushed to the wall by a love-drugged Andrew.

Both of these moments made me feel highly uncomfortable and feel genuine distress for Akko in these situations when I watched them. Neither of these abusive moments should be considered sweet or romantic. It is not a good representation of ‘Ankko’ or even Andrew himself alone. And I feel I can’t take any criticism of Dianakko in any serious regard from anyone who did feel these moments were “romantic”.

For me, ‘Dianakko’ is not a case of fanservice, it is a matter of representation.

Either on purpose or by accident, Trigger has managed to write one of the most heartfelt and organic depictions in animation of two girls managing to put aside their vast differences and come to closely understand eachother through what at least I would describe as love. I don’t even ‘need’ A Big Damn Kiss or a dramatic declaration of love. I’d rather want an ending more like the ending of The Legend of Korra, with Akko and Diana leaving together on a broom, to work on a shared future and a shared dream, with room for them growing further closer together and figure out what it means for them. Depictions of girls deeply caring for each other and slowly falling in love are rare outside shows not specifically focusing on girls’ love, thus I feel Diana and Akko are important.

I hope that Trigger soon either finally cements a final pairing and gently lets one part down, or that there will be no confirmed endgame romance. Trigger’s vagueness is just tiring at this point.

So I’m sorry Trigger and Andrew, but I’ve actually had enough of this dude.

Dress (Sugar daddy!Calum smut)

Summary: You wear a dress guaranteed to send Calum up the wall (okay pls I can’t do summaries but it’s sugar daddy and they fuck and ahhHH hot stuff!)

Word Count: 4.8k (SO LONG OH MY GOD)

Warnings: There’s three sections of smut! Yes, three! Also daddy kink and bondage ;)

A/N: Jfc you have no idea how much effort I’ve put into this! I really hope you like it, I think it’s pretty good, if I do say so myself <3

Originally posted by cashtonkinks

For my CEO!5sos blurb night with @felicityash and @pretendtobepunkrock!

Crisp shirts. Sparkling cufflinks. Neat sheets. 

Just some of the many things that spring to mind when you think of him. 

Calum Hood, CEO of Hood Incorporations, hasn’t left your mind ever since you met to discuss a partnership deal. Your father owns a business similar to Calum’s and you, his devoted daughter, handle some of the more day-to-day tasks, including meeting with the extremely attractive business partner.

From the start you knew Calum was different. Maybe it was the elegance in which he operated, the silky smoothness embedded in his voice. 

Or, perhaps, it was the fact that he’d had you spread across his desk within ten minutes of your first encounter. 

Keep reading

Keeping Your End of the Bargain

I promised I’d give you all another Dark fic when we reached our next milestone, and I always keep my promises. 

Just a quick warning- this is not fluff. It’s not romance. It’s not a sympathetic portrayal. This man is a manipulator, a good one, and he does what he does to further his own interests. He enjoys control, not company. And, to use Mark’s own words:

He is not here to help you. He is here to use you.

Enjoy.

Originally posted by wrcngchcice


Keep reading

touch

“I wanted to stay. I wanted to fight for us, but you wouldn’t let me. You just left and took the easy way out.”

Pairing: Shawn Mendes x female character 
Rating: Explicit
Words: 2682

A/N: I can’t thank @brittanyzelazno enough for reading this over a million times (she’s read it more times than I have) and keeping my spirits up about this. Love you a lot a lot. 

He always puts his heart in the words he writes. He feels them vibrate against his fingertips as the graphite leaves lines and squiggles in his notebook. He wants them to be perfect and has a tendency to chew on the hard end of his pencil when he just can’t get that one word in a line right. Tonight, his mouth tastes of cedar wood and coffee, keeping him up alone on the hardwood floor of his studio. Sometimes, the words just won’t come no matter what he does, and Shawn thinks that he should have accepted that fact by now, but his stubborn head won’t let him give up until he can vocalise the sensations he feels inside his body.

The song is about a girl who used to be his. It’s about the sharp pain in his chest that  he felt when she had told him. When he had watched her tears run down her face as she apologised repeatedly. Later on, when she ended it, she had put on a cold façade, but he knew it was killing her inside just as much as it did him when he let her go. He was willing to fight, willing to forgive, but she wasn’t.

Even the memory of those emotions hurt and his heavy head feels like it’s going to explode, so he allows himself a break and walks leisurely to the kitchen and takes a shot of vodka, hoping it’ll help. One shot turns into two, and two into three, and so it goes until he decides that he needs to tell her the words he’s got on his mind before he can write more. Shawn has just about sobered up when he finds himself outside her door at two o’clock. She takes a long time to open, and looks utterly shocked when she sees the figure in front of her.

“Don’t do this,” she pleads, shaking her head slowly. She looks defeated as she rubs at her sleepy face.

“Do what? Love you? I can’t stop doing that.” He stills for a second, holding onto the doorframe. “You hurt me so much.” He laughs, and he realises just how sad it sounds when guilt covers her face. “But I still miss you. Even when I think of how you let him touch you, and how he probably fucked you on that couch, where we kissed for the first time.” He peers over her shoulder, pointing at a long sofa on the inside.

“You’re drunk,” she accuses with an upset voice, detecting the alcohol on his breath.

“No, but I was before I came here,” he clarifies before continuing with the words he wants her to know. “I cared for you despite what you did. I still do.” The words hurt to speak, but they are true and Shawn is never more honest than when he’s had a little to drink. It’s embarrassing, really, that he spills his guts after a few beers or a couple of shots. “Why can’t you just let me go?” He groans and she puts her hand over his mouth, muffling his next words so that they are incoherent.

“You’re loud, you smell, and I have neighbours. Get in,” she says sternly, pulling at his arm.

He complies, following her inside and when she turns away to lock the door, he kicks off his shoes, shrugs off his jacket and starts to pull off his shirt.

She gasps when she finds him bare-chested in front of her. “What are you doing?!” She whispers the words, but sounds enraged nonetheless.

“You said I smelled so I’m taking a shower.” Shawn walks right past her to the bathroom, leaving his shirt on her floor. The moment he enters, his eyes fall upon a necklace he had given her half a year ago, hanging on a jewellery tree. It looks dusty, like it hasn’t been picked up in forever. The sight  and the memory feels like a punch to the gut and he falls back against the wall, hitting his head on the cold tiles.

“Shawn,” she whispers next to him.

He doesn’t want to look at her. He can’t because he knows that when he does the tears that have collected in his eyes will fall, and he doesn’t want to cry. With his eyes aimed at the floor, he pushes past her to the edge of the tub and steps in, turning on the shower. The cold water splashes against his face and he shivers as goosebumps appear on his arms and neck, but he remains stationary under the pouring water with his eyes closed. Hands find his shoulders and shake him, and he finally looks at her. She’s standing in front of him in the shower, looking distraught as water bounces off his body and hits her dry clothes.

“How could you?” Shawn says in a low voice, and wonders if he can be heard over the sound of the downpour when she doesn’t respond.

“I’m sorry,” she says eventually. “I never meant to hurt you. I know that doesn’t change anything, but I truly am sorry.”

“Why’d you leave?”

“Because I knew you deserved better.”

Her words rile him up because he’s tired of her making decisions for him and disregarding how he actually feels. “You don’t!” he yells. The tears burst out without warning and melt in with the water that’s turning warmer by the second. He backs up against the wall to avoid the stream and pushes his hair back over his head. She follows him, stepping closer so that she is where the water is spraying. “You don’t know how I feel, and you don’t know what I want. I wanted to stay. I wanted to fight for us, but you wouldn’t let me. You just left and took the easy way out.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispers. She is a heartbreaking picture with her sad eyes, hair matted down against her head, and her t-shirt almost as soaked as his pants. But she’s also his heartbreaking picture in a part of his mind that is still in denial.

Before he sees it coming and without thinking, Shawn holds her against the wall and crashes his mouth onto hers. Hesitant lips move against his slowly, but then he’s being pushed back by his shoulders, away from her.  She watches him with longing eyes but her straight arms keep him at a distance until she changes her mind and pulls him into a kiss, pushing him towards the wall. Her hands wrap around the back of his neck and his immediately move to their familiar place at her soft hips.

Fingers press into skin, leaving thick, red lines under the water. Hands pull at hair, limbs, and clothes, and Shawn is shortly naked against her barely dressed body. His muscle memory still knows how to touch her, how to kiss her to make her feel good. Somewhere between the rough kisses and the slow nips at the wet skin of her neck he starts to think, and then he stills. He buries his face in her shoulder and breathes erratically against her neck, just holding her as his eyes fill up with tears again. He already knows that there’s no return for them, but there’s a sliver of hope somewhere in him and that’s what keeps him standing there, next to her as water cascades over them.  

She turns a knob, lowering the water pressure then slides her hands down his back. He shivers from the touch and is reminded that he’s in the nude and his crotch is pressed against her hip. He backs up to look at her; the cautious look on her face, the wet hair against her head, the swell of her lips from his teeth. What he wants is right in front of him and he knows he can’t have it, but he gives in to that sliver of hope that prompts him to close in on her, and he kisses her again. His lips move to her ear and he kisses the lobe and gently tugs at it with his teeth, making her soften against him.

“One last time. Please,” he begs.

“We…” she begins to speak, but moans when Shawn attaches his lips to her neck, just below her ear and sucks. “We shouldn’t.”

Shawn pulls back at her words, knowing that it’d be wrong if he continued. He takes a step back and feels a little uncomfortable standing there naked with a semi as she pierces him with her eyes. But she moves closer and rests her firm palm on his chest, right where his heart is.  Her fingers curl and her nails press against his pec, making his length twitch and he briefly has a mortifying flashback of swimming class CPR lessons when he was paired up with Wendy Steinbeck. She was clad in a tiny bikini and he had had no control of himself whatsoever.

She moves closer slowly until her slippery skin is against his again and his growing length is in between their bodies, the proximity making him harder. Their lips clash together, hands roam bodies, and fingers dig into flesh. Shawn takes a hold of the back of her thigh and picks her up, pressing her up against the tiles. Her fingers wrap around the slide bar attached to the wall quickly and she wraps her thighs around him, pulling him close.

The tip of his erection rubs up against her opening with a light pressure and he groans quietly at the simple relief, and he continues with slow motions of his hips and gets harder with every stroke of her swollen folds. She leaves his neck with purple blotches and he revels in knowing that she wants him marked.

“Let me down,” she says after a while.

She pulls him in by the neck and tugs at damp curls at the back of his head. Shawn falls into her body and catches himself with his palm against the wall, but his face still crashes into hers so that their noses collide.

“Ow!” The pair yelp in unison, then start to laugh as their eyes connect. They laugh in amusement until their laughs turns into melancholic chuckles and Shawn finds himself with his eyes closed and lips just close enough to hers for her hot breath to fan over them.

Her fingernails trace the lines on his stomach and then her hand is wrapped around his length, stroking him slowly with a firm grip. She circles her thumb around his tip where the precome has leaked but is washed away by the water, and Shawn moans at the feeling. He feels dizzy from the pleasure and steadies himself against her body, resting his face in her flushed neck. A low sound slips past her lips when Shawn opens his mouth and starts to suck on the skin on her neck, making him smile at the familiarity of her sounds. He brings a hand down to her sex, pushes her underwear aside and teases her entrance with a finger. His finger sinks into her and he draws it back slowly, sighing when she moans in bliss.

The pace of her hand around his erection quickens and he breathes harshly against her skin. Shawn wraps his fingers around her wrist, stopping her movements. She lets go of his length and it bounces back against him.

“Turn around,” he mumbles.

She turns to face the wall and he places kisses on her shoulder, removing her hair so that her neck is exposed for him to bite at. There are spots of colours on her shoulder and neck when he is done, marks apparent on her skin just like on his. Shawn pulls her hips back against him so that his length is pressed up against her soft bum. She steadies himself with a palm against the wall and reaches back to touch his erection, bringing the head to her entrance. He rubs against her slowly, then pushes into her until he bottoms out as his palm moves down her spine. Her buttocks press back against his crotch and he starts to move inside her leisurely. His lips find her shoulder again and his fingers unclasp her bra, releasing her breasts from their confines. He reaches out to her front to take a hold of her breast, stroking her nipples and tugging at them gently and she sighs in response.

They move together in sync as his mouth ravages her shoulders and the top of her back. She turns her head around for sloppy kisses and he slows his movements to languid thrusts as his tongue finds hers and the two desperately claim each other’s mouths. Their bodies move together faster again, her breathing quickens and it’s not long before she comes around him with a hushed moan. Shawn feels himself get closer and he pulls out just in time, coming onto her back as his muscles tighten and his knees shake.

“Sorry for… yeah,” he mumbles.

“It’s fine,” she responds, turning as the water washes away any sign of their actions.


The atmosphere is thick once they get out of her bathroom, both of them wrapped in towels. He follows her to her bedroom and she digs up an old jumper of his at the back of her closet and throws a pair of sweatpants to him that he thinks used to belong to him. They exchange awkward smiles and put on clothes with their backs turned to each other, saying no words. Then they face one another, only to observe, which they haven’t properly done for a long time, but words remain unspoken.

Eventually, Shawn forces himself to say something, “The sun’s up.” He looks past her at the light peeking through the blinds.

She turns to look at her window, then smiles at him. “It is.”

Then silence overcomes them again, and they’re standing six feet apart. The distance feels like torture to Shawn, and he wants to so badly kiss her again, and hold her, and make her his again. But he knows that this is the end for them.

“I should go.”

“Yeah.”

She follows him to the door and watches as he puts on his shoes. When he’s done, his hand holds onto the door handle, but she’s the closest to him that she’s been since they were in the shower together and his stubborn heart still wants more. His eyes flit between her and her lips and she mirrors the action. So he goes for broke; his hands find her cheek and waist and she is swiftly pushed against the door and kissed with all the passion that he can muster. His lips tingle from her rough teeth and tongue as their lips battle. Then he is pulled back to reality and he kisses her slowly, savouring the moment. He pulls back and exhales softly against her lips, giving her room to breathe. She doesn’t chase his touch, doesn’t ask him to kiss her again.

“Do you wanna get breakfast?” He asks this hesitantly, because part of him knows what the answer is, but he still does.

Her silence and the way she looks him in the eye provide the answer he had expected. She moves away from the door and opens it for him. He backs out through it, taking in all of her.

“Goodbye,” she says.


When he gets back home, the words come naturally. The melodies follow right behind accompanied by the notes on his piano. Shawn feels the tune vibrate against his fingertips that press down on the strings of his guitar, and he has a song. His eyes tear up when some lyrics hit so close to home that they tug at his heartstrings. By 7 am he’s singing loud enough to wake up his neighbours, but for once he doesn’t care, because he’s at peace.

He’s just shuffled in underneath his covers when he hears a tone from his phone and it lights up with her name on it.

Fuck.

Dean is aging every day and Castiel can see it in the fine lines when he smiles, the way his eyes crinkle. Every day there’s another line forming and Castiel can see it. Every single one of them. He sees the first small gray hair that starts at the root of Dean’s hair. He doesn’t think Dean can see it, at first, but after a week Dean begins parting his hair differently. Castiel cannot see the single gray strand anymore, until there is a small bundle of them.

With each waking day, Dean’s hands begin to ache in the places that strains when he holds his gun. He pretends not to care, but Castiel knows. He can read Dean like a book he’s read a million times.

Castiel stays the same. Humanity caught up with his vessel in the short while he had no grace, yet now he seems to have stopped aging once again. He stays young while Dean’s knees ache. Small touches let Castiel ease the pain, and Dean catches on to what he is doing. He says thank you with his eyes, that still sparkle a beautiful sage color. The love Castiel has for Dean never dulls, but only deepens the more Dean let’s him heal.

It seems, eventually Dean wants to skip out on hunts. His bones throb too badly, or he’s catching yet another cold. Sam notices, too, but says nothing. It’s inevitable. Dean is much older than Sam is, and not as nimble anymore. Castiel always stays with Dean. Just in case.

Sometimes Dean will let Castiel sit with him while he watches the latest game on television. Usually Dean will fall asleep by halftime, never able to sleep well at night. His head always ends up on Castiel’s shoulder, beer slipping through his fingers that once held it tightly. Castiel puts the beer on the coffee table, and maneuvers to lean back enough for Dean’s head to rest comfortably on his chest. Castiel has no heartbeat for Dean to listen to, but placing a firm hand on Dean’s shoulder lets him pulse power through Dean’s veins, easing any ache or pain. Dean always sleeps better this way. It seems to give him a little bit more life that way.

Dean does not like it when Castiel heals him of his aches. “They let me know I’m still human, Cas. Just let me ache. That’s why they invented Advil.” Dean will say, giving Castiel a glare. But Dean always comes to Castiel at night, or comes to get him when the Advil won’t help his restless leg syndrome, or ease the throb of his nerves enough to get a few un-solid hours. Castiel is always more than willing to place that firm hand on Dean, watching him sleep peacefully like he deserves after a lifetime of restless nights.

“Let me heal you, Dean.” Castiel demands, watching the man he loves practically decay on the sofa. Dean had insisted on going to a hunt with Sam, and had sprained a few bones. They were not healing, and it had been over a week. “Please.” Castiel begs.

“No, Cas.” Dean repeats over and over. Castiel doesn’t care. Dean isn’t quick enough to dodge Castiel’s hand as if clamps around his ankle. It’s healed within seconds, and Dean is angry at him once more. “Damnit Cas!” Dean jerks his leg away, and glares red hot towards Castiel.

“I don’t understand, Dean!” Castiel barks back at him, “You can go on hunts all you want if you just let me heal you when you come back.”

“That’s not how life is supposed to work, Cas. I go on a hunt and I get hurt, if I die from it then that’s how it needs to be! No more loopholes, Cas. I’m gettin’ old, I know it, you know it, Sam knows it. Shit happens, and nature takes its course. It can’t do that if you keep interrupting it!”

“It sounds as though you want to die,” Castiel says dully, and blunt.

“Maybe I do.” Dean says quietly, hardly shocking Castiel. “I’ve lived a long life, saved a lot of people and then some. I’m alright with it.”

Castiel can’t cry, but if he could then he would be sobbing. He can feel it inside, how sad he is. “Dean, I’m not alright with it. My whole purpose of being is because of you. Every day before you, I simply waited for the day. And every day after, I was living for you and fighting for you. There was never a moment I was doing something that wasn’t for you in some way. If you’re gone, what am I supposed to live for?”

“Live for Sammy, Cas. He needs someone, too, you know.”

“Dean, as soon as you’re gone Sam is going to go back to a normal life. And you know that.”

Dean shakes his head, “I don’t want you to interfere anymore, Cas.”

Castiel nods a final nod, and says nothing the nights he still eases Dean’s pains when Dean calls for him. The days go by quickly, as do the seasons. He is worse in the winter, and soon he hardly moves from his worn spot on the sofa.

Castiel leaves Sam with him a single day, saying they need him briefly in Heaven. Dean smiles at him and says he’s happy Cas is off doing angelic things for once. Castiel smiles back and Sam nods. He knows Castiel’s plan.

Castiel comes back over a day later, and Dean is asleep in his bed. When Castiel enters, Dean stirs and reaches for him. He must be hurting again. Castiel gets down to his briefs and slides in bed with Dean, the single brush of skin easing all of Dean’s pains. He relaxes entirely against Castiel. Dean feels very hot, and clammy.

“Are you sick again?” Castiel asks worriedly.

“Yeah,” Dean grunts. “I went out for a drive and got caught in the rain. I think it’s the flu,” Dean grumbles. Castiel brushes a soft hand over his forehead and dulls the fever. “Thanks,” Dean says softly. Castiel is thrown off by the acceptance but says nothing. Dean begins talking. He’s somewhere between sleep, stuck in a limbo. “I am gettin’ scared, every day.” He admits in the quiet air of the bedroom. “Once my light goes out, that’s it. No more chances like I’m used to.”

Castiel interrupts softly. “I could give you another, Dean. We can age together, this next time. If you let me.” There’s a pleading tone in Castiel’s voice that Dean can recognize.

“No, Cas. I need to be a man about this.” Dean grumbles, head rolling to rest on Castiel’s pale chest. “I’m just scared of where I’m going. I always thought death would be easy, that I’d die out on a hunt. It’d be quick, maybe not painless, but I thought it would happen so fast the fear wouldn’t set in. But dying of old age? Slow like this? Every day, man. I can feel it. I’m gettin’ closer. Every time I’m sick it’s like death is just looming, beggin’ me to go to sleep so it can take me. It gives me time to think about it, and the fear gets bad. I hate bein’ scared. I’m scared I’m goin’ to hell, or purgatory again. Or get stuck in the void like Kevin did. I wanna go to Heaven, and be with Bobby and Ellen and Jo.” Castiel faintly realizes Dean is crying silently, tears pooling beneath Dean’s cheek.

“In Heaven,” Castiel begins. “I talked to some of my superiors.” Dean ‘mm-hmms’, quietly. “They would not take my grace, so my age would catch up. But I reserved you a spot, right where you want to be. And I will escort you myself. Not a reaper, or a demon. Me, and I will hide nothing from you. I will hold your hand the whole way.” The love Castiel has for this man is swelling hugely in his vacant chest, and if Castiel could cry he would cry for love.

Dean’s fingers skim past Castiel’s chest to grab his hand. The hold is limp, and weak. Castiel’s worry is at its highest, and he feels the desperate need to go yell for Sam.

Somehow, Sam senses Castiel’s desperation. He barges into the room, eyes wide with worry. Castiel and Sam’s eyes meet and the words don’t need to be spoken.

“Dean?” Sam asks, walking to his brother. Dean let’s out a small moan of acknowledgement, and faintly tells Sam he loves him. The grip on Castiel’s hand is slightly stronger when Dean finds the energy to kiss Castiel’s chest, the words unspoken but there. Castiel wraps fingers through Dean’s damp hair and holds him close.

Sam is crying silent tears and holds back a sob by biting his fist.

Dean goes quietly, in his sleep. Castiel slips from underneath him and makes sure to tuck him in as he goes to console Sam, who has aged as well, but is still young and healthy. Death won’t take him as quickly if he begins to settle down. Castiel makes sure to tell him this.

Castiel explains his plan to Sam over once more. He’s going to lead Dean to Heaven himself. He’s going to be with Bobby and Ellen and Jo. Just like he wanted. Castiel will be there, too, and he will be down whenever Sam prays to him. And if Sam wants, Castiel will walk him through the veil, too.

Castiel’s conversation is interrupted by Dean. A Dean Sam cannot see, but yet the same Dean he knows. Dean has a worried look in his eye, watching Sam cry silent tears. Castiel tells Sam it’s time, and gives him a large hug goodbye. He pleads for Sam to go find a woman, and settle down and have kids. Go back to Stanford. It’s possible. Sam promises he will try, and that he will pray often.

Castiel takes Dean’s hand and vanishes. The veil is shadows and daylight mixing together, like oil and water. Mixing but never becoming one. Dean holds Castiel’s hand tightly, fingers laced. Castiel steps through a very certain strand of daylight. Dean covers his eyes when it becomes too bright.

They’re at Bobby’s. It takes Dean a single moment to blink and look around. Ellen comes from the kitchen, stirring something in a pot.

“Heya, boys. Just in time for supper.”

That night, Castiel holds Dean close. Dean let’s him. After all, they’re stuck in a piece of Heaven where no one dies, aches, or bleeds. Despite Dean’s healthy bones, Castiel still caresses Dean’s body just like before.

Fanfic idea. Langst & Shance

-Lance is palaDONE™
-homie just isn’t havin it anymore
-Kieth comes around talking shit?
-Pidge starts snapping/name callin/general rudness?
-Shiro being an asshole and yelling at Lance when it wasn’t his fault bc God forbid Kieth or Pidge fuck up?
-Allura screamin at lance after a failed training simulation where someone else messes up?
-Hunk not defending his bro after everyone beats lance down?
-Coran is too pure. He’s like Lance’s father. Coran tries to get everyone off his case
-bless him.

-He is done with putting up with everyone coming after his wig
-Lotor singles lance out and comes around playing on Lance’s insecurities
-“They don’t value you. Come with me, I’ll show you your true worth.”
-Lotor gives him a week to decide

-that entire week has been shit.
-everyone has ragged on him.
-Pidge is snappy BC they aren’t any closer to finding their father or brother
-Kieth has been snappy. BC he’s like that
-Shiro has been strict lately, all for the “good of Voltron”. He singles out lance even when it isn’t his fault
-Allura is a slave driver, recently lance has been the one doing all the work
-Hunk hasn’t help Lance at all, there has been no interaction between the two
-Coran has been shielding Lance away from the abuse,, being a great dad
-One day after a galra attack and he’s receiving lectures from everyone Lance staright up snaps.

-he starts crying, just silent tears,, everyone is shook
-BC lance is always smiles and stupidity
-lance starts ranting about how shit everyone has been to him
-he goes off with straight facts about how they’ve been blaming him for their issues and everyone is shocked BC what?? We wouldn’t do such a thing??
-Coran stands by Lance and pulls up videos
-everyone is shook BC they are really shit people
-Lance just stands there on tears.
-he confesses abt Lotor’s offer
-“maybe I should leave, maybe someone will actually care about me and value me.”
-everyone is shocked BC have they pushed their blue paladin that far he’s willing to join the enemy??

-Lance runs out and biolocks his room, not even Allura can bypass the biolock
-he doesn’t leave for five days until there’s a battle call,, he’s been stashing food in his room for months
-there’s a mountain of pillows and blankets outside his door? The pillows have tear streaks? Pidge’s half worked motherboard is by a green pillow, Keith’s crossword puzzle book is on the other side of the hall beside a red pillow, Hunk’s recipe journal is opened to a page titled “Lance’s comfort” on top a grey blanket, all of which is full of memorized recipes, Allura’s tablet is by a pastel pink blanket by Pidge’s setup, Shiro’s is right in front of Lance’s door, who almost ate shit bc he tripped on Shiro’s black duvet.
-Lance is touched but he isn’t ready to forgive just yet.

-everyone is in the hangar waiting for him, their eyes are red, they look shitty
-Lance just looks at them before getting in blue
-Shit its Lotor
-he only came to get Lance’s response
-this bitch broadcasts through the main channel, every paladin can see.
-“its been a week my dear, have you realized they don’t care for you?”
-There’s silence from Lance

-Hunk is the one to break first, he starts to sob and beg for Lance’s forgiveness, that he’s sorry he’s a shitty friend and an even shittier person, Pidge is next; they start sobbing into the com about how they can’t lose another family member to the galra and how sorry they are.
-Keith’s voice is low, but heavy with sorrow and apologies. He wants lance to be happy, and if that means to go with Lotor he should go. Allura cries softly, like a kitten, her grief saturates her voice, the sorrow and remorse is palpable
-Shiro’s voice starts off strong, no wavering, no emotion. Until he starts about how he loves Lance romantically,, his voice cracks and there’s sobbing
-everyone is sobbing

-Lance feels horrible bc he did this. He brought them all to tears bc he had a fit.
-“Forgive me prince loltor, I can’t take your offer. I’m sure there is someone else willing to be your concubine”

-Lotor coencedes and leaves them, “expect a battle next time.”
-Silence on the coms
-they’re back in the hangar
-lance apologizes “for throwing a fit like a pendejo estropeado” (a spolit idiot)
-everyone else denies Lance’s apology bc it’s their fault
-everyone hugs the shit out of lance, his shirt is soaking wet with tears and snot
-Shiro kisses his forehead and begs for a chance to take lance out

-lance is wary but accepts apologies and agrees for the date

-everyone retires to Lance’s room for a cuddle puddle and team bonding

-Shiro and Lance’s date is successful,, they’ve hit it off and are too damn sappy

-no crosses paths with Lance bc his new motto is “talk shit get hit”
-only valid when you’re being a right dick to him.

-Coran has been standing off at the side lines offering his input for Lance, he will be the best “padre” this boy will ever have. Coran also gives everyone, even Allura, the shovel talk about trashing his unofficial son/fav paladin

-Coran will put the through the ringer and toss them into the open airlock
-mess with the space-father and you’ll be a victim of the space-slaughter

SCREAMS  (๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ

IT’S FINALLY HERE OMG OKOK ANYWAY I THINK THIS COUNTS AS ANGST?? (bolded as a warning ;3)

Thank you for your patience, nonnerson~~ nyahaha Anyway I recommend reading (or re-reading part 1)

–R.I.

Click Here for: [Part 1]


It had been a year.

The thought crossed your mind as you exhaled the smoke from a cigarette, watching as it disappeared with the wind. Just like you had, a year ago.

The sun’s rays peeked out from behind the familiar, tall building in front of you, spreading its light over the shadows where you hid. Rika’s old apartment building. The same place where he had brought you to, and the same place he had taken you away from.

Even now, you were unaware of their intentions for bringing you to the RFA and then stealing you away, but… it didn’t matter. No, nothing mattered anymore.

You crumpled the lit cigarette with your bare hands, tossing it to the ground to stamp out the flame, feeling satisfied by the small crunch! sound it made. You wouldn’t have started to smoke, had it not been for the influence of Mint Eye. Sure, you knew it’d kill you, but everything you’d learned at Mint Eye had opened your eyes to the world—that nothing was worth living for in the first place. What did it matter if you killed yourself a little more?

It didn’t.

“MC?” A familiar voice called out to you, making you snap out of your thoughts. Your eyes widened with recognition as you stared at the person before you, but you quickly narrowed them, pursing your lips as you gazed at them coolly.


Yoosung

  • He did a double take, as his eyes roamed over your face, taking in the familiar features of your face that he hadn’t seen in a year…
  • “MC? Y-you’re MC, right?”
  • His voice was filled with hope and desperation, and he subconsciously reached out to you, as if he wanted to catch you before you slipped away.
  • But you didn’t reply, instead brushing past him, barely acknowledging his presence. As you passed him, he noticed the cold look in your eyes, and shuddered. That… that wasn’t the kind and warm MC he had grown to known. You wouldn’t look at him like that, no… not you.
  • Yoosung could only stare after you in disbelief, but he never gathered the courage to approach you again, not even to confirm your identity.
  • It couldn’t have been you. You wouldn’t look so… so… empty.
  • He’d lament about it to Zen later, drunkenly babbling that he’d seen someone just like you on the streets… admitting his fear that he was too much of a coward to find out if it had been you.
  • “I’m scared if it really was MC… Her eyes looked so distant… so empty… so cold… it can’t be her,” Yoosung would deny, shaking his head with a drunken grin on his face. “MC… our MC would never…”
  • He refused to believe it, avoiding the thought completely. A tear fell from his eye as he gazed at Zen through his glass of champagne. “You should’ve seen those scars on her body… god, no, they can’t… they just can’t belong to her,” he hiccupped, still shaking his head in denial.
  • Even as he fell asleep from the heavy amount of alcohol he’d consumed, he would continue to cry in his sleep, dreaming of the broken girl that he’d been too afraid to even talk to.
  • “Not MC…”

Zen

  • You didn’t bother sparing him a second glance as you met eyes with him, but he grabbed your arm before you could even turn the other way.
  • His eyes were shining almost too brightly, and you could practically see a tail wagging excitedly from behind him like a dog. “Jagiya!! Oh, I knew it was you. I would recognize your pretty face anywhere. I’m so glad you’re okay, jagi, I can’t wait to tell the others! I’ve missed…”
  • Zen trailed off as he noticed your unchanging expression, but he mustered up another smile to cover up the fact that your lack of reaction dampened his mood. After all, it had been a year since he last saw you. He didn’t want to waste any more time with you, and he didn’t want to be gloomy with you after so long.
  • “Come on, why don’t we sit down somewhere to catch up?” he smiled warmly, tugging at your arm gently. He didn’t miss the unusual way you winced a bit as he did.
  • Zen loosened his grip on you arm, worry building uncomfortably in his heart. “MC… is it okay if I roll up your sleeve? Please…” His eyes searched yours for an answer, not just to his spoken question but to the millions of questions bottled up.
  • You… you felt torn. Why was he acting so nice to you even though you weren’t even a part of the RFA? Even though it’d been a year? Even though… even though he had no reason to be nice to you? You felt a pain tugging at your heart, but you tried to ignore it instead.
  • Zen looked at you while rolling up the sleeve of your right arm, watching your expression carefully for any hint that he should stop.
  • But you let him.
  • You let him see the dark purple bruises lining up your arm, the faded scars that left scabs in their place… the pain. The pain you’d suffered the past year.
  • He felt sick. What had happened during the time you had gone missing…? Why… why couldn’t he be there for you? Why did this have to happen? Why weren’t you saying anything? Why aren’t there even tears in your eyes? Why wouldn’t you look at him in the eyes?
  • So many questions were spinning in his mind, but he couldn’t voice a single one. “I’m sorry,” he whispered instead, tears prickling at the corners of his eyes. “I’m so sorry.”
  • His hands were trembling as he held yours, bringing the tips of your fingers to his lips as he kissed every one softly… treating you as if you were the most delicate thing in the world.
  • “I’m so sorry I let them hurt you.”

Jaehee

  • Her eyes had dark circles under them, even larger than the ones you’d last seen on her face a year ago. You wondered, could it be that you’d caused that? But you quickly brushed aside the thought. ‘I don’t care,’ you told yourself.
  • It took her a moment to really look at you, her tired mind barely processing what was going on. “MC…?”
  • She just barely recognized you. Gosh… you looked so different. You were wearing dull, dark clothes, even gained a piercing… There were obvious scars at the base of your neck, travelling down toward your chest… But your eyes. Your eyes looked so dead.
  • Jaehee had always thought that she herself looked stressed and tired enough… but seeing you today made her think twice. You looked far worse than her, and she hadn’t even thought that was possible.
  • She swallowed her thoughts, choosing to make small talk with you instead. “You’ve… changed a lot, MC,” she commented softly, unsure what to say.
  • You cocked your head at her. How were you supposed to respond to that?
  • “Uhm, maybe we could grab some coffee?” she tried, still trying to get over her shock of seeing you after your disappearance a year ago. Jaehee had no idea what exactly had happened to you, and reality hadn’t quite hit her that you were standing in front of her just yet, but… she was so, so glad to see you.
  • Your heart swelled at the delighted expression Jaehee wore, and you flashed a small, sad, tired smile at her. You’d missed her. She’d been the only female in the RFA, so you’d put in a lot of effort to befriend her. Jaehee had been one of your closest female friends in your entire life, despite the fact that you had only known her for a short period of time…
  • But no matter how you felt, you couldn’t do anything about it.
  • “I’m sorry.” You pulled her into a tight embrace, closing your eyes briefly to savour the moment. But you quickly let go before she could even wrap her arms around you. “I… don’t want to put you in danger.”
  • With that, you turned on your heel, leaving a confused, sleep-deprived Jaehee behind to suffer from your absence yet again.

V

(Reminder: he’s unaware of Mint Eye in this.)

  • “MC!” His voice was urgent and desperate, very different from the gentle tone you remembered him by. “MC… I’m so glad you’re okay…”
  • His eyes were filling with tears, relieved to see you after so long. He noted your features… the bruises, the healing injuries, the broken look in your eyes as if you’d lost all meaning in life. Dread and guilt overwhelmed his relief, his body growing stiffer and stiffer the more details he noticed.
  • Because it was his fault.
  • He was the one who swore you’d be safe. And yet…
  • He almost choked on his tears as he managed to whisper, “Oh god, I’m so sorry, MC.”
  • Reality hit him. It was all his fault that this had happened to you. If only he hadn’t convinced Jumin… if only he’d ensured your security… if only it wasn’t for him, you wouldn’t have these scars.
  • “Leave me alone,” you muttered, brushing past him. He watched you walk away, your eyes downcast and lacking life. He could almost hear his own heart cracking more with every step you took.
  • Because he had no right to stop you. He had no right to interfere with your life and risk ruining it more than he already had.
  • Your brief meeting with him had started with a broken girl, and ended with a broken man.

Jumin

  • His heart was hammering as he stared at you with wide eyes. He almost couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He took quick, long strides to make his way toward you, but you broke into a sprint, running away from him.
  • No. No. Not him. Not Jumin. No.
  • You knew how he’d felt about you. Hell, you knew you’d felt something with him, too. If you looked at him any longer, all the feelings, all the memories, would come rushing back. You couldn’t let him see you.
  • But he chased you.
  • God, there was no way he’d let you go again.
  • He ran the fastest he’d ever run in his entire life, ignoring everyone and everything around him, only focusing on catching you. But then he tripped just as he got within an arm’s reach, and you halted in your steps on instinct. A pained smile crossed his face as Jumin grabbed at your ankle tightly, making sure you couldn’t run off again.
  • “I knew you would stop for me,” he murmured softly. He stood up slowly, his eyes trained on you. “I thought I’d never get the chance to see you again. That I’d never be able to tell you how sorry I am for letting you go that day… Even after a year, you’re still the same kind, gentle MC I know.”
  • You held back your tears, avoiding his gaze. “I’m not the same, Jumin,” you started, your voice coming out as an unintentional whimper. “I… You don’t know what they did to me, Jumin… They t-touched me, and drugged me, and hurt me and killed me in so, so many ways… I… I’m so disgusted with myself…”
  • You didn’t know why you were telling all this to him. But you couldn’t help it. He was the man you had loved… The man you probably still held feelings for. Even if a year had gone by, the way his mere presence made you feel safe and loved never changed.
  • He gently cradled you in his arms. “I promise you, MC. I will do anything and everything in my power to protect you. I will never let this happen again, I promise,” he murmured in your ears, his chin resting upon your shoulder. You felt dampness on your shoulder, and you realized… Jumin Han was crying.
  • “How? Seven couldn’t even protect me,” you muttered, holding yourself back from returning his warm embrace.
  • He didn’t answer you. Instead, he acted immediately on his words. Jumin exposed your identity to the world, requesting an international TV station to release the news. Everyone would know you. If Mint Eye attempted to take you again, they wouldn’t be able to do so without raising the public’s suspicions. Furthermore, he assigned you trustworthy guards and increased security around his apartment with Seven’s help.
  • They had let you go once. They wouldn’t make the same mistake twice.
  • It would take time to help you recover from your traumatic events, but.. They would never let anything happen to you, ever again.
  • Because they love you. They all do.

Seven

  • He would recognize you anywhere. Even worse, he recognized the glazed look in your eyes immediately, too.
  • Come with me right now,” he scowled, grabbing your hand roughly. You tried to pull back, but his grip was firm, and you couldn’t fight against his strength.
  • As he led you angrily through the streets, throwing you into his car and locking the two of you inside, a million thoughts were filling his mind.
  • “Who did this to you?” Seven demanded. He was seething, his golden eyes flashing with detest.
  • You only glared back at him, refusing to answer his question. What good would it do you? Mint Eye had overpowered him and his security once. Even if you went crawling back to the RFA, they would only get you again. It was hopeless. Everything was fucking hopeless.
  • Hurt flashed across his face as he realized what you were thinking, and he lowered his eyes, guilt clouding them. “You think I’m useless, huh. I know. You entrusted your life with me and I only let you down. I can’t promise you that I can help, but please, at the very least, let me try. Tell me what happened, MC,” he pleaded softly.
  • “Even if I told you, what could you do?” you replied in a quiet, tired voice. “It’s an entire organization, Seven. Mint Eye, if you must know. Look, I don’t expect you to do anything.” An empty laugh escaped your lips. “You claim to be this amazing hacker, but you couldn’t even find one girl. You… you have no idea what I went through.”
  • With that said, you left his car, slamming the door shut behind you.

  • That night, when you returned to Mint Eye Headquarters, you noticed that everyone was in a frenzy, running around like mad dogs. “What’s going on?” you asked someone passing by.
  • Their eyes reflected yours with fear. “We’ve been exposed. Revealed to the world. We have to get out, NOW. They’ve sent the government and news stations after us. Each man for himself, run for your life!”
  • You stood there, shocked as you realized that Seven had taken action immediately. Your phone buzzed with a notification, and you noticed a distinctly familiar number texting you.
  • 707: It’s been a year, MC. I haven’t done nothing throughout this time. I always swore to myself that if I finally found you again one day, I would save you.
  • Your eyes welled up with tears as you read his messages.
  • 707: If you trust me, come to this address: [Address Here]
  • 707: We’re waiting for you, MC. Everyone’s waiting.
  • You started to run away from the building and towards your friends. Yoosung… Zen… Jaehee… Jumin… Seven… V…
  • The thought of their smiling faces, greeting you, was enough to bring a smile to your face. The first genuine smile since you’d been taken away from the RFA. 
  • It wouldn’t be the last.
"I'm sorry" Langst Fic(Trigger Warning plz be safe) PT-2

Allura hadn’t got that much sleep that night.

She was aware that she had hurt Lance, and realized he was offering her comfort, as a good teammate- and friend- ought to have done.

But Allura, she had only responded with hate. She had insulted him. She had told him he was useless, and that he didn’t deserve to be the blue paladin.

But now that she had cleared her head, she realized just how wrong she was for saying such a thing to him.

Not only did he deserve to be the blue paladin- he had been made to be the blue paladin of Voltron. He had proven himself time and time again, over and over, that he deserved to be here with the team, just as much as anyone else did.

In her desperation to find an acceptable apology for Lance, she had marched straight up to Shiro’s room, knocked on the door, and waited.

The door slid open within two ticks, and Shiro cocked a questioning eyebrow at Allura.

“I need to talk to you. May I come in?” Shiro didn’t know what about, but he let Allura in, nodding, and watching from the still open door as she sat down on the edge of his bed, holding her head in her hands.

“Princess? What’s wrong?” Shiro asked hurriedly, closing the door and walking over to where she sat, crouching down to her level. He tensed when he saw that her cheeks were tear stained.


“Allura?” He questioned, concern littered across his expression. Allura shook her head in response and inhaled shakily.

“Shiro, I… I hurt him.” Allura managed to choke the words out, and her voice threatened to crack. Shiro was confused, but comforted her either way, stroking her hair and rocking her slightly.

“Allura, who did you hurt?” Shiro asked calmly, squeezing her shoulder comfortingly, patiently awaiting an answer.

She sighed sadly, a pitiful expression being the only insight to what might’ve happened.

“Lance. Last night. I told him that I was a fool for making him the blue paladin. He was just trying to help me with my own pain and I had to go and take my anger out on him instead of saying thank you. Like a normal person would.” Allura gestured outwards in exasperation as if illustrating her point further.

 A picture of Lance’s stuffy nose, pink-tinged, and tear stained face popped up into Shiro’s train of thought, and tingles of anxiety bloomed in his stomach. Without thinking, Shiro mumbled to himself. 

 “That’s why he looked so bad.” Shiro looked to the floor, and before he realized it, Allura was tensing and turned to face him. 

 “You saw him last night? After I yelled at him?” Allura took Shiro by the shoulders, shaking him lightly. Her voice was laced with panic. He nodded stiffly.
 

“How am I going to apologize to Lance?! I hurt him so badly, Shiro- you won’t be able to form Voltron if Lance is in pain- and even if you didn’t need to form Voltron anytime soon, Lance is still a member of this team, and he deserves to be happy.” Her hands found their way to her hair, and she stared at the floor with wide, panicked eyes.
 Shiro was slightly taken aback by her ranting but smiled warmly as he processed her words. 

 “Tell him exactly how you feel. Apologize sincerely.” Shiro responded, rubbing circles on her back. Allura thought quietly for a moment, before rising calmly and nodding her head briefly. 

She turned to Shiro, who now was looking at her proudly, and a little shocked. Her emotions were a little erratic at the moment, he concluded but went along with whatever she had planned. 

 "This will need to be a group effort. I am not going to be the only one on this team treating him kindly from now on. We all include him, compliment him, praise him, and bond with him. I refuse to have one of my paladins consistently unhappy. Shiro, I am going to need your help talking to the others- especially Hunk. I don’t know what he’ll do to me when he finds out what I told Lance.” Shiro and Allura collectively shivered.


“Understood, princess.” Shiro nodded and rose from the bed.


“Thank you for helping me, Shiro. I really do appreciate it.” Allura smiled fondly, which Shiro mistakenly assumed was gratitude, and took her leave.
 

“I’ll see you in the control room soon!” Allura called behind her shoulder, leaving Shiro to his own thoughts. 

Shiro had a lot of apologizing to do as well. He had brushed off Lance’s own feelings and problems, and he felt like shit for it.
 

Allura was determined to set things right between her and Lance, and marched her ass down to the control room. Once there, she pulled up a transparent screen, and clicked a few buttons, dragged a few knobs down, and there was the sound of a soft alarm.  

 It wasn’t blaring, but it wasn’t loud enough to where you could ignore it. She played it in every room except for Lance’s. She needed to talk to every paladin except for him. She needed to discuss the issues they were making when they came into contact with Lance.  

 She needed to fix this. 

 And she was going to fix it right. Now.

Pidge, Keith, Hunk, Coran, and Shiro all made their way to the control room, their thoughts seemingly somewhere else.

Pidge was looking down at the ground, timing their steps.

Keith was looking forward solemnly, lost in thought.

Shiro was focused on the task at hand.

Coran was fiddling with the end of his mustache.

Hunk’s stomach was aching for some food.

They entered the control room as a collective unit, the team taking notice that Lance was not in the room with them.

Coran sighed and made his way to the exit.

“I’ll go wake the boy up.” Coran sighed sleepily, and Allura stopped him before he could physically leave.


“Coran, I purposely did not wake him up. I called you here specifically to talk about Lance.” The team, excluding Shiro, tensed, and anxiety blossomed in their guts.


“What about Lance?” Hunk was the first to speak, anxiety evident in his voice. 

The aura of the room was cold… Too cold.


“There is no need for alarm Hunk- I checked on Lance earlier. Physically speaking, he is unharmed.” Allura lied, images of Lance’s crimson stained floor coming to mind, memories of her crying in the doorway. 


Thank god he’s a deep sleeper.’ Allura thought to herself, images of the now cleaned and properly bandaged cuts across Lance’s forearms flashing across her train of thought.

She had scrubbed the quiznak out of his floor, and rummaged through a majority of his things(which she argued over doing for who knows how many minutes), and confiscated all sharp items he might have been able to harm himself with. 

She had found him earlier that morning, wanting to apologize, but after finding him in such terrible shape, her confidence shattered, and she didn’t know how to approach the situation.

But now she did.

“We need to talk about the manner in which we treat Lance.” Allura sighed, looking at the ground in disappointment.


“Princess, I can assure you we-” Coran began, but Allura smiled at him reassuringly, showing that she was not upset with any of them.

She turned back to the rest of the group, smiling sadly.

“I have noticed that our attitudes towards him are less than acceptable. In fact, our tendencies to snap at him and reprimand him mercilessly make me angry. Not only that- they damage him and his well being.” Pidge made an act to protest, but Allura raised her hand to silence them.


“I am no exception to this. I made a particularly rude multitude of comments to Lance last night, and I believe I caused him to second guess his position on this team and his usefulness to the rest of us.” Allura’s voice cracked on the last sentence, and the room was eerily silent.


“Oh my God…” Hunk whispered, and a shiver ran up Allura’s spine.


She inhaled shakily, gathering as much courage as possible to get through the next sentences. 

“He had suggested that I try talking about Altea. He told me it might’ve eased some of the pain that came with losing it. I told him that I didn’t want to talk about a planet that no longer existed.” Allura sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.

Hesitantly, she continued.

“When he had tried to apologize… I…” 

That’s when the tears began to flow.


They were unrelenting, and they were an endless testament to her guilt.

“I told him that I was a fool to make him the blue paladin. I told him he did more harm than good. That I didn’t want his help. I called him useless! I messed up so badly- I let my quiznaking emotions get the better of me and I took out all my pent up anger out on him- and now he’s upset and doubting himself, and it’s all my fault.” Allura finished off with a sob and collapsed to the ground.

The team watched as the princess clasped her hands over her face in shame.

None of them knew what to do- but they had a pretty good idea.

Hunk was the first to move towards her and crouched down to look her in the eye.

“I will never forgive you for hurting my best friend. Especially Lance.” Hunk whispered, lifting her chin up to look her in the eyes. Allura’s lip quivered.


“But, I love him enough to where I will help him forgive you.” Hunk smiled and pulled Allura into a tight hug.

She helplessly sobbed into his shoulder, wrapping her arms around his torso. She hadn’t been hugged in such a way since she had needed to delete her father’s AI.

It stung.


But in a good way.

Pidge burst into tears, and rushed to Hunk and Allura, joining in on the cuddle fest, sobbing uncontrollably. They were upset that Allura was the reason that Lance was unhappy last night, but yelling at her wasn’t going to resolve anything for the Voltron team, so instead, they joined in.

Coran joined in afterward, walking forwards and comforting Pidge and Allura.

Before long, Keith and Shiro were tugged into the bunch(much to their discomfort, but they went with it anyway), and they stayed like that for a few ticks, until finally pulling apart.

Allura was the first to speak.

“I think we all know what we have to do.” Allura looked up at the rest of the team, determination dripping off her tone.


Shiro grinned, Coran nodded, Pidge smirked, and Hunk gave her a thumbs up.

They turned to Keith, who had his eyes on a particularly interesting crack in the floor.

He sighed.

“I think I need to do more than that. I need to confess to him.” Keith mumbled, a blush creeping across his cheeks.

“Holy quiznak.”


part one   part three

Fire boy and Ice Ice baby

After a while in the fandom, i was in the mindset of “ Hey but it makes perfect sense for Keith to be fire and Lance to be water
Because they blue and red ahah”

But then,

Actually it’s more than that : listen ;

Because at first, honestly :

Lance’s bright, loud personnality ScrEAms fire to me. A true good Leo. He got the bragging, the look, the style, the lead thingy. He’s a shiny sparkle. He lights the mood and he throws tantrums sometimes.

Keith’s calm, arms crossed while leaning against a wall silent is a Signature™ move for him, he’s rather cold at first. He’s a lonely broody boy. He relies on instinct more than skill, apparently. 
And if he’s actually a scorpio it’s bonus round for making Him : WATERBOY.

But then we had “Keith’s a hothead” and some Insecure™ Lance, added to a whole lot of battles.

And while Fighting actually, Keith litterally jumps in the fire. Like, really, litterally, the boy straight dived from a cliff to a burning village. He’s never gonna stop until he runs out of things to punch. He goes for the face. He’s fast, and well… Burns. He’s all emotionnal about fighting, barely thinking before throwing a punch.

On the other hand, Lance’s pretty cool headed while under fire. He sats down and look around, reason differently depending on his teammates, wait and he’s silent as needed. He keeps cool. He’s fluid and doesn’t stop the mission but he never really bursted in them either. He’s what you need to make things flow.

His Bayard’s a long ranged one. More on the protection side, he’s a support. He can reach everywhere, we’ll see this.

Keith’s bayard is a Sword. It progresses little by little, piece by piece, tearing down anything at its fast pace. It’s deadly but only to what touches it, to what encounters it directly. It propagates.
Across a battlefield, Keith is a raging fire propagating.

Have you seen those rainy tragic moments of warzones movies ? Rain’s everywhere. In the ocean, every single person, ally or enemy, has their feet in water.
Water flows. It saves, protects, covers and drown, but everywhere at the same time. Funny how only some kind of rifles-like weapons can relate to this omnypresence and versatility on battlefield ?

So in battle, they meet up fire & ice/water expectations ; ( more under the cut because this is getting long).

Keep reading