i'm sorry the more i look at this the worse it becomes

Season 3 Master Plan

Step 1: Lance and Keith work together and finally put aside their differences in order to rescue/save Hunk. They realize that they’re actually pretty good teammates and friends when they both pull their heads out of their asses. Their rivalry becomes more playful and less antagonistic.

Step 2: The writers finally take the time to illustrate how deep and strong the bond between Lance and Hunk is. There is even a little flashback to how they met, to establish how close and essential they are to one another. “Sorry Hunk if this looks gay to the viewers,” Lance murmurs, right before they both lean in.

Step 3: Hunk and Keith continue with their bonding moments from season 2. Keith confides in Hunk about his anxieties, especially those caused by Shiro’s disappearance. Hunk quietly listens and comforts him when he’s done. After Keith leaves, Hunk goes to find Lance. Without going into detail about what Keith told him, Hunk outlines a plan for them to be there for Keith, because the guy really needs someone in his corner. Lance immediately agrees, showing just how much his character has grown since the first season, and also highlighting how his relationship with Keith has changed. The audience realizes that Hunk and Lance are truly essential to the team; as the legs of Voltron, they act as pillars of support, both literally and emotionally.

Step 4: Keith steadily learns to relax and soften around Hunk and Lance. There’s lots of feelings jam sessions, with either the whole team present or just the three of them. Hunk and Lance’s unwavering acceptance allows Keith to finally feel like a part of Voltron. Of course, their friendship doesn’t immediately solve all of Keith’s issues, but the realization that people care about him (and who he cares about back) is enough to help Keith with some of his worse anxieties.

Step 5: Lance, Hunk, and Keith are all shown to work incredibly well together during training and fights. Sometimes they work in pairs; other times, all three of them fluently tag team against a boss. There’s also lots of banter over the comms; Hunk is tickled pink the day Keith responds to his groan-worthy pun with an even cheesier joke. Lance threatens to dump both of them.

Lance: “Uhhh,,,, dump your friendships, I mean.”

Keith: “Friendships?? I thought we were all dating.”

Hunk: “Huh… Keith might be right? Guys, are we all dating each other?”

Lance: “Guys, I think I would know if I had two boyfriends. ‘Cause there would be flirting, and like dates, and feeling seshes. Y'know, real bondy stuff like that!”

(beat)

Lance: “Guys, holy shit, I think we’re all dating.”

Step 6: Klunk confirmed.

Step 7: Voltron is saved.

Highlights from Talks Machina (Episode 105)

Again, covering for @eponymous-rose​ while she continues her international vacation! Sorry for missing last week–things got crazy! Tonight’s guests: Darin de Paul, Taliesin sporting a lovely scarlet mohawk, and Travis. Brian starts a story that ends with him forging several signatures, and off we go.

  • The new campaign guide comes out soon! Taliesin is now worried about messing up the history of a character he invented.
  • Darin loves D&D as a long-form improv exercise and is happy he was able to get moments with each of the cast members.
  • Right after college, Darin was an apprentice at the Burt Reynolds Theater in Florida (a year-long program for theater students). One of his co-apprentices was Matt’s mom, and Matt’s grandmother was the director’s assistant. Matt’s father was part of the writing room. During the run of Darin’s last show (Fiddler), a clarinet player said they were going to play D&D and invited Darin. Matt’s mother was also in the group; they were all new to the game, so they rolled on a table for names and played four sessions. Last year, Darin was hired by Blizzard to do various voices, which is where he and Matt became friends. Later, Matt realized his mom had a picture of herself with Darin de Paul, and discussion of that picture led to the conversation of their D&D game. It’s been 37 years since Sprigg’s original campaign.
  • Matt was worried about fitting Sprigg in until Darin mentioned he was a hermit. The hobgoblin TPK was canon! Sprigg, a chaotic evil illusionist thief, was the only one to survive; the last moment of that campaign had him fleeing on a cart with wolves chasing him, abandoning the rest of the party to their deaths. Travis and Taliesin ask if he really was chaotic evil; “Why do you think he was so interested in redemption, dear boy?”
  • The first episode Darin saw was the Trials of the Take episode when the carpet was destroyed. He’s wanted to be on the show ever since.
  • Symmetra’s voice actor, Anjali Bhimani, also plays D&D. My heart skips a few beats.
  • Vex and Percy eloped over the year break. Laura and Taliesin kept it secret out of pique at first (Taliesin doesn’t remember why they were piqued). He’s not surprised the others are annoyed.
  • Grog was extremely impressed by Sarenrae and hasn’t thought much about Kord giving him any boons.
  • Darin has been a fan of the show and watching for some time. Taliesin says he is the most prepared guest they’ve ever had.
  • Very few people were present at Vex & Percy’s wedding. They did not intend to ever bring it up on their own.
  • The plane of books is the worst possible plane for Grog. Only the plane of shopping would be worse.
  • As soon as Darin walked into the studio last Thursday, Travis immediately asked him if he was a god. Travis still thinks he might be.
  • Percy would rather have a thousand years with Vex than a thousand years with Ioun’s library.
  • Travis wants a “positive, upbeat resolution to all the drama that is a-hanging in the air.” Me too. Travis does not read the Player’s Handbook to help keep Grog dumb, so he never knows what’s going on.
  • Travis loves how prepared Darin was. He offered the Deck because he thought Darin was looking for something specific after Sprigg deflected the weaker offerings.
  • Darin loved the emotion in the room during the plane shift and the strong moment with Marisha in particular. He also likes the movie Gargoyles.
  • The hardest thing about playing Sprigg after so long was finding him again. Brian gets very sentimental about the long journey that brought Sprigg back to life, including Darin becoming friends and colleagues with Matt so many years later.
  • Darin will be back on the next episode and is visibly excited about it.
  • Darin used to read tons of D&D books (mentions Drizzt by name) and used to paint minis as a hobby. He still has some of the figures and wants to donate them to the show.
  • Darin’s wife was part of Taliesin’s parents’ circle, so he’s known her for a long time. Taliesin and Darin exchange memories of meeting Roddy McDowall, and Darin says part of Sprigg’s concept of memories being the most important came from a conversation he had with Roddy while Roddy was dying of cancer.
  • Percy’s current distrusting attitude towards the gods came directly from his interaction with the Raven Queen. However, he didn’t know there was a god of knowledge and has been “chewing on it a lot, and what it means to have faith in knowledge.” He sees the library as a testament to faith in humanity and the good works of life and how important memory is and is blown away by it. “Books have always been about finding meaning and this whole library thing has changed him.” Taliesin expected Percy to be much more resistant to Ioun and was surprised at how quickly the books sold him.
  • Darin felt as the scenes progressed that his role was to “illuminate” CR as to where they were and what they could be. Taliesin and Percy both wondered if he was Scanlan from the future. Darin had the choice of being Scanlan’s dad, but declined.
  • Percy picked Vesper because her namesake was the last person he’d talked to in real life.
  • The only place Travis can think of worse for Grog is if the books were replaced with clothing & a For Sale sign. “Grog has a beatnik poet inside him waiting to get out.”
  • Darin’s advice to Keyleth was total improv. He almost cried when she touched his hand. He loves funny characters that can become sad and/or touching.
  • Marisha has no idea how to get Keyleth out of her emotional nosedive. Watching Marisha break character from Keyleth at the end of an episode is one of Taliesin’s favorite things because they’re such different people.
  • Percy would seek out the lifebooks for all his family & ancestry because he’s fascinated with legacy, and Whitestone is full of ghost stories. He had lots of stories he’d planned to give as part of the gnomes’ tour, and tells one about a woman forced into a marriage who slowly poisoned her husband over a number of years.
  • Sprigg feels he is what Scanlan might become. He did not expect to survive the episode.
  • If they were really in Ioun’s halls, Travis would love to see the books of his family and of JFK. Darin would like to see his father’s book. Darin also likes wearing suits, which is why he wears suits. He only wears t-shirts at the gym. (At one point Darin’s family also owned 20 horses???). He wishes his parents could see him now because they were so supportive when he was growing up.

Honor! Justice! After Dark, After Dark, After Dark!

  • If the challenge for Ioun involves any physical activity, Grog will fight Percy for it.
  • Bucket lists: Travis wants to swim with a great white shark. (Darin’s biggest fear is great white sharks.) Taliesin wants to travel to India. Darin wants to learn to tap dance, and casually drops that he used to dance with Cirque du Soleil.
  • Darin’s favorite color is black. His favorite season is winter.
  • There’s a video somewhere of Darin de Paul and Steve Blum pretending to be zombies and running towards the camera.
  • Travis and Darin do Reinhardt “impressions” by talking in high-pitched baby voices. Taliesin does a pretty decent actual impression! Darin likes that there’s heroes for every playstyle.
  • Darin hasn’t told Matt’s parents he brought back Sprigg. He also used to have a crush on Matt’s mom.
  • If Darin could pick any character from VM to play, he would play Scanlan. Brian teases the entire world by saying he would play “the character Pike’s in love with.”
  • Darin’s twitter flooded after last Thursday and he wishes he could respond to all of the kind messages.
  • Darin once shared floss with Gilbert Gottfried as part of an old bit.
  • Darin feels his whole history has led to this moment last Thursday where he had the chance to create a story with people he loved.
  • Laura read the Game of Thrones books as they came out, well before the show started. Brian just found the copy of the first book she lent him in 2010, which he still hasn’t read.
  • If Sprigg could fight any D&D monster, it would be a hobgoblin.

we may be hollow, but we’re brave

Summary: Even had insisted they spend the night before their wedding apart, because he’s dramatic as fuck, but he ends up calling Isak anyway. Isak doesn’t even try to hide how endeared he is.

Words: 1,248

Isak groans as he adjusts the pillow under his head for the thirtieth time that night. It’s the first time in weeks he’s had to fall asleep without Even, and it’s fucking with him bad. Once upon a time, he thought he’d outgrow this urgent need to have Even next to him, touching him, just being with him always. But after a year together, he feels the exact same desperate ache for Even as he had when they first met—when real love, the kind that comes naturally with Even, still felt like a fleeting fantasy. He’s more or less accepted that forever is in his grasp now, but being without him when Isak could so easily drive over to Even’s parents’ place and crawl into his bed, still feels like the worst kind of self-inflicted torture.

He’d whined to Jonas about it for a good two hours earlier, until Jonas had threatened to hand over best man duties to Magnus instead. Isak had been scared enough to shut the fuck up, but not he’d just pouted silently instead. “I can’t wait until Even marries you, this whole engagement has brought out the clingiest, sappiest parts of both of you,” Jonas had complained.

“Do you really think that it’ll get better after we get married?”

Jonas considered this for a moment, before burying his head in his hands. “Fuck, it’ll be even worse.”

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I love you (And the Other 100 Ways of Saying It.)

Prompt: I love you (And the other 100 ways of saying it.)

It’s Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter Eight Year in Hogwarts. The new blooming friendship has started since the very next day after Voldemort died. Harry has visited the Manor to give Malfoy his wand back. They forgave each other. They let go. They moved on. Rebuilding Hogwarts for four months is also a good way to build a friendship, you know? Once school started, they have been quite close, closer than expected because apparently Hermione and Ron don’t come back. Somehow The Hogwarts Express has been awfully late.

1.      The next compartment is empty, but you’re alone. “You mind sharing a compartment? The rest is already full.”

2.      “Happy belated birthday, Potter.” Puts a small gift on his lap.

3.      It’s awfully late, I bet you haven’t eaten anything. “Stop staring, Potter, it’s rude. Here, I’m full anyway.”

4.      Idiot, stop kicking your blanket to the floor, it’s cold. Put the blanket in place and cast a sticking charm over it.

5.      “Here’s your trunk.”

6.      Cast a warming charm for the whole carriage. “What? The thestrals must be cold too.”

7.      “Welcome home.”

8.      Nonchalantly sit beside Harry in the Great Hall.

9.      Put two treacle tarts on Harry’s plate. “What? You like them.”

10. “Goodnight, Potter.”

11.  “Morning, Potter.”

12.  Slides a cup of coffee towards Harry.

13.  “Don’t forget your Charm books.”

14.  “See you later.”

15.  “How’s the day?”

16.  “Stop hogging the food, Potter.” Eat slowly, you git, you’ll get a stomachache.

17.  Casually put two glasses of water on their bedside drawer.

18.  Put an apple beside Harry’s breakfast. “You’ll die early with your diet.”

19.  Our first class is potion, will you be okay after Severus’ death? “You’re helpless, Potter. Sit back and observe, maybe you’ll learn something by being my partner.”

20.  Slap Harry’s hand away. “Idiot. Clean your hands.”

21.  “Remember, 7 times clockwise, Potter.” It will be dangerous if you stir only 6 times.

22.  “Finally, a decent result.” It’s a really good result, but let’s not feed your ego.

23.  You look extremely tired. “Stop being unmotivated git. Long day?”

24. “Don’t forget to work on your charm essay.”

25.  Smiles softly when he has finished his homework only to find Harry’s asleep on the sofa.

26.  Take off Harry’s glasses and fix his blanket.

27.  Check Harry’s charm essay and gives some pointers on wrong statements.

28.  Levitates Harry and tucks him in bed. Essay and glasses neatly put in their bedside drawer.

29.  “Wake up, Potter. Finish your essay.”

30.  “Your mood puts me in a bad mood, Potter. See you in DADA.” Cheer up, you git.

31.  “Fancy a duel?”

32.  “Impressive, Potter.”

33.  “That’s your best shot? Aim better.” Stop channeling your power without precision.

34.  “Focus, Potter. I could kill you.” Fuck you, Potter, that’s a fucking lethal curse. Thank Merlin you move.

35.  Grinning with twinkle in his eyes. “Nice duel.”

36.  I would love to see that expression on your face everyday. Don’t lose it.

37.  “Knackered?”

38.  “It’s Friday tomorrow, fancy a seeker match?”

39.  Your nightmares are getting worse.

40.  “You wish you’re the better seeker.” Whatever, of course you are better.

41.  “Nice game, Potter.”

42.  “We’ll crash the library tomorrow, Potter.” Your homework are piling, stop procrastinating, you git.

43.  Pointing the answer on the book. Rolls eyes exasperatedly.

44.  “Potter, accompany me tomorrow in the Room of Requirement?”

45.  “I’m brewing a potion. You’re here to distract me from sleeping.”

46.   You need this as much as I do, you git, that’s why you’re here. “Stop whining, Potter.”

47.  “Of course, you’ll sleep eventually.” Transfiguring the chair into something more comfortable.

48. ‘Modification of Dreamless sleep that doesn’t give you an addiction. Your nightmares are getting worse. –DM’

49.  “You are welcome, Potter.”

50.  Your nightmares are not getting any better. Are you okay? “Do the dreamless sleep at faulty?”

51.  Then why do you keep having nightmares?! “You’re still having nightmares.”

52.  “I’m so sorry, Potter. For all it’s worth, it didn’t fair.” I’m sorry. I hope they’re happy and proud wherever they are right now.

53. ‘Happy Halloween, Potter.’ Put a bag of Honeydukes sweets on the edge of Harry’s bed.

54.  “Happy Thanksgiving, Potter.” Put a large piece of Turkey meet on Harry’s dinner plate.

55.  “Look, it is finally snowing. First snow this year.”

56.  Throw a snow ball on Harry’s back.

57.  Have a happy snowballs fight.

58.  “Happy Christmas, Harry.” Put a Christmas present on Harry’s lap before leaving to the Manor.

59.  Put the charmed snow globe from Harry on the bedside drawer in the Manor. Thank you, it’s pretty. Mother and I’s miniatures look happy, playing in the snow.

60.  ‘Happy new year, Harry. May this year be good to you. –DM’

61.  “Stop slopping around, NEWT is just around the corner.”

62.  “Come on, I’ll help you with Potion.”

63.  “You don’t work hard enough.” Come on, Potter, you need to be better than this if you want to be an Auror.

64.  “Have you decided on your future career?”

65.  You’re one of the few who don’t think it’s an impossible job for me. Thank you.  Smiles softly.

66. “Do you ever think of applying to be a DADA teacher here? Or being recruited into a Quidditch league?” I just need you to know there are other options that will give you less stress.

67.  Well whatever your future job is, Harry Potter, please be safe and happy.

68.  “Stay away from dragon scale, it will trigger an explosion on your calming draught.” Stop being an idiot please, you could actually lose your life.

69.  “Good luck on your NEWTs.”

70.  “Potter, tomorrow is Charm, not Transfiguration.”

71.  “Here, have some.” Slide a box of Narcissa chocolates for Harry.

72.  “She’ll love that.” Yes, she also has been asking about you. I believe your visit would be good for Mother. Thank you.

73. “Ready for Potion? Relax, you’ll do well.”

74.  “How’s potion? Don’t tell me you blow anything.” Please remember potions can be lethal sometimes.

75.  “Remarkable, Potter.”

76.  “Cheer up, tomorrow is the last day.”

77.  “Thank Merlin and Salazar, it’s all done! How are you holding up, Potter?”

78.  “Can’t sleep either?”

79.  “Fancy a night stroll?”

80.  Rolls eyes swiftly and casually fixes the scarf on Harry’s neck.

81.  “You see that star? That is the reason Mother named me Draco.” Maybe you’ll remember the star, and you’ll remember me each time you look at the sky.

82.  “You’re a good company, Harry.” It’s nice being like this with you.

83.  Thank you for deciding in befriending me that day, you give me a new purpose to keep fighting. “Thank you.”

84.  For saving me again and again, from Voldemort, from the Fiendfire, from my own demons. For giving me a common sense to keep living. For offering your hand in friendship that day after the war. For trusting in my ability to become a Potion Master.  “Just for everything and anything, really.”

85.  You really are beautiful under the moonlight.

86.  “What do you think will happen after Hogwarts?” Would we still be like this? Could we? Is it ridiculous for hoping?

87.  “You really believe that?” Because I want that to happen too, for us to not stop being friends, maybe even more?

88.  Yeah, I like that very much. “Okay.”

89.  “Don’t forget your spare glasses, Potter.”

90.  “Seriously, you need to stop procrastinating and panicking on the last second.” Seriously, you don’t forget anything, just lock your trunk.

91.  “Tomorrow would be very different, wouldn’t it?” I’m afraid to go back to the real world. Are you?

92.  It might just be our last day meeting each other. “Accompany me to Hogsmead?”

93.  “Fancy a butterbeer? Come on, drinks on me.”

94.  “You what?” God, it must be a dream, right?

95.  “You’re being serious right now?” Cause if you’re not, I’ll saw off your balls and ship it to America right now, Harry Potter. If you’re joking, you’re a dead man.

96.  “Okay then, I would like that very much.”

97.  “Sleep fine?” You sleep as peaceful as a baby, I almost stop the train so that the bumpy ride doesn’t wake you up.

98.  “Mother said she will pick us up.” You sure want to visit Mother? It doesn’t have to be today, you know.

99.  “Mother, you remember Harry Potter? Harry, Mother. Mother, my boyfriend.” You git, stop smiling like you need to impress someone. You have a life debt toward Mother, just act normal. Salazar, help me, this is embarrassing,

100.  Marry me. “Scared, Potter?”

*

Bonus:

101.  “You wish.” Fuck you, I’ll be damned if I’m scared. I love you, you git.

anonymous asked:

Sorry if I'm bothering you but can you share why you think avatar is bad?

hoo boy man ur asking for a lot bc that show is a complete and utter M E S S. first, heres the main phrase my tibetan ass wants u to think about: its a show using asian/indigenous ppl and their devastating histories made by ignorant weeaboo white men. I want to write about it in detail bc i’ve always wanted to say something about this but never rly got around to doing it. maybe ill send this in letter format to the writers lol. anyways im going to split this up into parts. I’ll put a readmore bc its kinda long

@bryankonietzko take a nice long look if u still use tumblr lmao

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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.

anonymous asked:

Hey! I'm so sorry to bother you, but you seem like you're really into Spirk so I was wondering if you had any good fanfics you could recommend for someone just starting out?

No worries friendo! I’d love to recommend some stuff!

  • Just One More (It Couldn’t Hurt) by summerofspock -  Spock starts sneaking Vulcan kisses from his captain and once he starts he can’t seem to make himself stop. [AAAA THIS ONE IS CUTE]
  • A Warm Blue by theplotholesmademedoit -  A sick Jim steals Spock’s uniform while he waits for his bondmate to return from a mission [short and sweet!]

  • First Contact by triedunture -  AU where Earth isn’t warp capable when we should have been. Spock & Jim meet as children during First Contact and forge a strange kind of bond, but they’re torn apart by circumstances beyond their control. Fast forward to adulthood: Jim’s made it to space, but with Starfleet out of his reach, his life has taken a very different path. And yet, that path crosses Spock’s again…. [the beginning is too cute and a little bit sad omg]
  • Magpie by waldorph -  Spock met Jim when he was 7 and Jim was 6. It has since been generally agreed that this was a mistake (or: the one where they grow up together and things are simultaneously better and worse for it). [THIS ONE IS SO GREAT]

  • a sequence that you never learned by annataylor - "‘Spock,’ Jim breathes out, completely overwhelmed by the gesture—not quite believing that Spock knows him so well, that’s he’s already started researching, that he trusts Jim with a member of his own endangered species.“ When Jim gets it in his head to adopt an eight year old Vulcan, Spock presents a logical solution to the issue of Jim’s humanity: marriage to a Vulcan citizen. [I seriously want to cry thinking about this fic its amazing]

  • Entering Orbit by museaway - Jim escapes to Iowa to avoid the media frenzy following the Narada incident, but a late-night miscommunication results in Spock turning up on his front porch. [I CANT EVEN ABOUT THIS ONE OOOOO]
  • THE SUM OF BOTH OF US by spicyshimmy -  Jim Kirk is nine when a massacre on Tarsus IV leaves him without a family and without a home. Spock is twelve when a strange boy in the desert saves his sehlat. Families aren’t born; they’re made. The look in mother’s eyes at his correction remained a mystery long after the colors of the night sky and the complex patterns of distant nebulae had become translatable by means of distinct and relatively straightforward equations. [i really like their stuff and they have a bunch of spirk fics you can check out!]

If you want some CLASSIC Spirk fic (like STRAIGHT from the godmothers of Spirk fandom) and have a bit of money to spend then I’d suggest reading Killing Time by Della Van Hise (PDF), The Price of the Phoenix (or anything by Sondra Marshak and Myrna Culbreath), and Star Trek: the New Voyages 1 and 2 (havent read 2 but BOY IS THE FIRST ONE GREAT)

Happy reading!!

Brashly So

A/N: I’ve never actually written any Connor/Evan fics before, so expect bad characterization and worse plot.

Connor stood in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest as he watched Evan type frantically on his laptop, perhaps writing another letter to himself or maybe he was updating the anti-suicide page Alana mostly ran but that Evan would occasionally add to.

The other boy was so pretty, and Connor shifted as he mentally cursed himself, wishing it could have been anyone else he was thinking it about.

Except Jared. He would definitely get too much shit for that one.

Making a brash split-second decision, Connor walked into the room, sitting next to Evan, possibly leaning just a bit too close to the shorter boy as he took a look at the screen, calm smirk on his face.

Evan startled, abruptly stopped typing, nearly falling over, but Connor caught him quickly, rolling his eyes.

“Calm down, I just want to see what you’re typing. Make sure it’s nothing about me again,” he teased, enjoying the sight of a slight pink spread in Evan’s face.

“Oh, n-no, just wor-working on some of the pr- See Mom wante- I need some sch-”

His smirk slowly becoming more of a smile, Connor found himself listening to the rambling boy with a discerning amount of fondness, and, once again making a brash decision, found his lips pressed firmly against Evan’s.

Stunned, but quieted, Evan was unable to respond for a moment, heart pounding, before he quickly kissed Connor back, not wanting to miss out on his chance.

It was nothing like Evan had imagined, usually it went something a bit more like they were out at the orchard stargazing and Evan would say something suave and Connor would be flattered (-can Connor be flattered, Evan would then wonder) and then they’d embrace, or-

A hand wrapping around Evan’s neck to bring him closer disrupted his racing thoughts, and he came hurtling back to earth at an alarming yet somehow comforting rate.

He pulled away, instantly regretting it, to look into Connor’s eyes. Both of them were overwhelmed with various emotions, and Evan frantically searched Connor’s face for any kind of doubt or withdrawal, but found none. Finding something in himself that he could rarely reach, Evan pushed forward and kissed Connor again, unable to hold back.

"I’m glad to see I’m not the only one,” Connor mumbled between kisses, before trailing to mouth along Evan’s neck, possessively marking the skin there.

Evan shakily exhaled, one hand reaching up to tangle in Connor’s hair as he tried to catch up.

"I, I never thought that- I mean, you never seemed interested- not that I’d ever assume how you feel, that’s not what I meant, I just mean that-”

"Oh shut up and just kiss me, Evan,” Connor murmured, and Evan gladly did just such, for once ignoring the sound of his laptop hitting the floor, barely even noticing the thud as Connor’s arms wrapped around his waist.

And just like that, everything seemed just a little more okay.

hamelin-born  asked:

Omega!Hux and Alpha!Kylo had a meaningless one-night stand years ago - back when they were Lieutenant Hux and Apprentice Ren. They never even exchanged names. Years later, when Kylo Ren comes on board the Finalizer, he meets Hux's child - who is exactly the right age, has all-too-familiar eyes, and a Force Presence that /burns/ like the rising sun.

Kylo has never met an omega before.

He’s been told that they smell divine; like the most forbidden of fruits, where biting into one would mean eternal damnation of the soul for giving in to such a tempting creature. Their very skin is meant to glisten with lusts and wants, their needy heats setting them apart from the rest of the galaxy. They’re rare, craved by alphas and envied by betas. A true prize, worthy of a budding knight like Kylo Ren.

Mating has never been high on Kylo’s list, not even when he presented as an alpha when he was in his late teens. Alas, he finds that, on this night in a tacky bar in a dusty town, Kylo’s needs have gotten the better of him.

He moans, delving back in for another kiss off the pretty redhead he’d managed to pique the interest of at the bar before he’d offered to serve him drinks back at his accommodation. Kylo had smugly accepted. After only a few shots and cocktails, Kylo has the redhead pushed back against the nearest wall, consuming his lips in a desperate kiss.

“You’re beautiful,” Kylo whispers, tasting the remnants of their last fruity shot on his partner’s lips.

“So I’ve been told,” the redhead replies, pushing Kylo away from him for a moment.

Kylo watches eagerly as the other begins to strip, his nimble fingers unfastening the button of the high collar of his jacket before shedding it.

And it’s then that Kylo smells it.

“You—you’re an omega,” Kylo gasps, taking in the seemingly glowing form of the other, lapping up every inch of his pale skin.

“Aren’t you lucky,” the omega says, sauntering forwards, making sure every twisting movement is exaggerating the curves of his body; the sharpness of his hips, the plumpness of his ass, the perkiness of his nipples. “A night with an omega.”

The omega is suddenly upon him, chest pressed against the front of Kylo’s dark robes, his hand rubbing the front of the alpha’s pants. Kylo gasps, growling, before hoisting the omega up until his long legs are wrapped around Kylo’s hips and they’re back against the wall, kissing as though their lives depend on it. Unable to help himself, Kylo buries his nose in the omega’s neck, and feels as though he’s elated.

The omega already smells of sex, as though heat is radiating from his skin, but there’s a uniqueness to his scent that Kylo has never sensed before among anyone. Kylo picks up the scent of ash, as though the fire isn’t just in the omega’s hair colour but in his heart too, flickering away, threatening to burn anyone who comes too close. But underneath the threatening layers of heat and fire, the omega smells sweet; like a freshly baked pastry drizzled with a fruity syrup and covered in sugar, just begging to be liked before being devoured by its hungry customer.

Kylo drools.

“I’m going to fuck you,” Kylo growls, feeling the omega shiver in his hold. “I want to see beneath your beautiful.”

Yes, alpha,” the omega whines, craning his neck upwards to allow Kylo better access to the hot underside of his jaw. “Please. Fuck me.”

Lost to the intoxicating magnetism of the omega in front of him, Kylo doesn’t bother to ask the omega for his name. It’s a fling, a quick fix for the needs of his inner alpha. It’s the best fuck he’s ever had, but it means nothing.

In the morning, Kylo dresses and leaves before the omega has a chance to wake up, feeling that his sexual urges have been satisfied but there remains a coldness in his chest as he walks towards the door, his heart even jumping when he hears the omega whine softly in his sleep.

But regardless, Kylo leaves, returning to his shuttle and leaving the town before the planet’s sun has risen.

What has happened is irrelevant, and Kylo knows he’ll never see the omega again.

Whether he’s content with that is another matter entirely, and one that he quickly pushes to the back of his mind before he returns to Master Snoke.

Keep reading

When heroes are human & what comes with growth

Trying to get some of my feelings down on this chapter so I want to take a moment to look a little deeper in the imagery used for this panel in particular.

Its really such a chilling panel in its use of shadows and white space, wherein Toshinori is leaving Izuku as the shadows he leaves behind gradually creep up on him, not quite touching him yet but slowly drawing in on him.

These shadows he creates have taken someone else though.

Clear parallels are being made throughout this arc about Nighteye and Izuku, most prominently felt when Toshinori uses the word fan: 

  • admiring the same qualities about All Might
  • wrapped up in his ideals, wanting to be like him
  • breaking the barrier of admirer, aspiring to be worthy of his respect & confidence
  • having deep affection & concern for his well-being
  • and are shocked with the reality of who he is

Not in the way you find out someone you admire is just terrible but just that the person who you admire is flawed in a real way.

This is what I took most from this: All Might, the great and shining hero who left everyone in awe, is very much a flawed human who has hurt those closest to him with his choices and he understands he has but he can’t turn back because that would mean doing something worse, leaving people in fear and what his master gave him was put in the wrong hands.

All Might can’t let go because that’d mean he was wrong, the decision to make sure everyone feels safe and they have this security was not deserved. He can’t back off and let these ideals lose their meaning because that’d mean Toshinori the quirkless kid, who was given a chance by his hero, was a poor choice.

He lives for the all while ignoring the one: himself and those who are close and care for him in a personal way. its the flip side of what is good and righteous, so selfless and in keeping with their ideals they won’t take a step back for themselves. Thats what Izuku is touching on right now, the ideals that seemed so dazzling he missed what it implicates. 

Toshinori has pushed through personal pain and concern for his wellbeing for responsibilities and duties he feels for a whole. He has to keep the peace, he has to provide society with security, its whats held him together for so many years but he’s just a frail man and its scary and sad for Izuku to see this and not fully understand. He thought he knew All Might by now, he thought no matter what All Might had everything together. 

He even thought he knew All Might’s weaknesses except it runs deeper than physical problems.

Toshinori disregards what he has accomplished and done for thoughts of what he can still do, what it is he has to keep doing. These are the shadows he casts over Nighteye, choosing societies security over his own.

Its the truth you come to realize about people, they aren’t perfect, they make mistakes and sometimes what they do will not always agree with you in the end. Its what you get when you get older, the person in your life you accepted would always be right has cracks and those cracks can be scary because it means uncertainty and it means theres not going to be a clean cut answer to all problems, the grey areas start to show. 

All Might wanted to continue being there for the public, putting up a facade, while Sir just wanted him to lead a fulfilling life without understanding Toshinori had given all that up for his career. He could no longer be an average man because everything he’s put himself through has been for the purpose of being that all encompassing hero.

Toshinori knew this was coming. This was the time Izuku was growing past his more childish attitude and was asserting himself, acting every bit the developing teen he is. He’s coming into his own and that means facing something difficult he may not take well. (Sidenote: Toshinori has never given Izuku his real name before, getting that information from Gran Torino, always referring to himself as All Might as though maintaining that image for both their benefits)

Toshinori asks Izuku himself if he’s ready, giving him the chance to go back and be the kid who doesn’t need to know about his demons, he wants to keep him as innocent for as long as he can. This is something he’s put someone in a similar situation through and he regrets it, he doesn’t want to put that pain, disappointment and the weight of who he is on another kid who looks up to him. He didn’t want to let someone else down with who Toshinori is, trying to spare him the shadows he never meant to cast over Nighteye.

But he can’t keep Izuku where he can manage his growth himself, Izuku is impatient and young. The stakes keep going up and more people surrounding him are getting caught in it. He wants results and he wants to be able to accomplish things instead of having more failures, leaving more people in pain thanks to his inexperience.

Izuku has grown so much from the shy, hesitant person he was before who’d give into discouragement and be content with what he has. Izuku is no longer that kid who used to burst with admiration, he’s growing up and part of that is removing the lens you wear when you look at adults/parental figures you admire. Whatever made them perfect in your eyes isn’t the same anymore, seeing them for who they are and knowing there’s something about them that doesn’t fit with what you thought before. 

You have to take the good and the bad with the progress made.

Izuku, for his part, is growing past relying on All Might’s words to carry him, he’s growing into his own and building the confidence and drive to make shit happen. That means holding his own when he’s told he’s not good enough when he would have felt uncertain before.

 And not shying away from conflict when there’s something insidious going on. All Might not telling him this information himself put Izuku’s absolute faith into doubt, he’s learning All Might may not have everything together.

Izuku’s made strides but it means opening up for something less certain. He isn’t disheartened anymore but that doesn’t mean he’ll be told what he does is right, its the first step to learning just how harsh this work really is and his naive beliefs could lead to a worse outcome.

Reality is harsh and his dream is very open to harsher consequence. He has to overcome his naiveté, to adapt and think on his own, what is right and wrong for him and what has to be done. He’s learned he has to come into his own without relying on the image of All Might. But now he has to wonder: ‘whats under that image?’ Its scary to think All Might doesn’t know what he’s doing, your hero might not have a complete handle on life and what he does to himself is self-destructive.

Sir is still stuck on this himself. The shadows that have engulfed Sir Nighteye, the pain Toshinori puts himself through with his lack of self-preservation, are slowly touching on izuku. He starting to know thats who All Might really is, Toshinori the person who has put his image and ideals above himself.

Toshinori says he’s sorry but its not just for the heavy information he’s shared or choosing Midoriya based on chance, its for everything he really is and everything he couldn’t live as. He’s sorry for not ‘truly’ being the man Izuku had looked up to. Toshinori is sorry for the weaknesses he possess and the people who’ve had to carry the burdens he’s put on them. For being the man who, even after losing half his organs, still pushes himself despite knowing he’ll never last and could die in a horrible way in a foreseeable future. He still knows he could die sadly but pushes through that, not wanting to face himself.

He’s sorry for putting Nighteye through his selfishness and letting Izuku know of it; he’s sorry for not ‘successfully’ embodying the ideals he set out for himself.

Its desolate and nerve-racking and it tears away at him, even if he understands whats best. He’ll never be content and rest on his laurels even after being the first OfA successor to land a considerable blow to AfO. He’ll still keep fighting a never ending battle and may never get the peace he deserves, all because he’ll be anxious if he’s not the one to carry it. Never quite accepting his limits.

He can’t turn back, he has to keep going for himself, its his egotism. Its all he can do is to say he’s sorry and keep going forward because he knows what he’s doing will never reach an end. Thats been his flaw, he can’t stop himself from living this life because its the only one he’s accustomed to.

Everything he’s done was in service to be relied on, it makes him feel lost when he’s the one protected. He has to throw himself into the next labor just to have a goal to shoot for in the greater good (getting Shigaraki out of being a villain). If not, it means facing all he’s denied himself to be that symbol.

All Might may have accomplished more than any hero has before and done everything he could for the world but Toshinori will never be content.

It’s important to have these characters highlighted during this flashback. They’ve gone through what All Might has, they’ve witnessed what he has been through and they’ve had to shoulder through the sometimes troubling choices he’s pushed on himself. 

During the sports fest, All Might couldn’t reprimand Izuku because Izuku was berating his own inadequacy for the situation, he sees far too much of himself in Izuku. Izuku had to learn he couldn’t keep breaking his own body to make sure help was given, he had to learn this himself through failure and troubling those around him, knowing he’s not the only one being affected by his reckless actions.

Chiyo had done her best to nip that behaviour in the bud before it got to All Might levels of troubling, she doesn’t want to continue down the same path they’ve gone down before.

All Might may have been the symbol of peace in society but he’s still Toshinori the man who is frail and can only do so much before he’s worn himself thin but he keeps going regardless of protests. And they are the ones who’ve decided to watch over him since they can’t control what he does, guide and advice but still lack what can set him at ease, giving him the peace he needs. 

They were there then and they’ll continue being there for him the best they can.

And thats the drawback of losing your mentor, they’ll always be the perfect hero in your eyes while never learning their shortcomings.

Toshinori will always aspire and never meet his ideals because he’ll believe Nana could have, she’s peerless in his eyes. He’ll never quite meet her faults in the same way Izuku and Sir have and perhaps he’ll never realize this about himself.

In the end, Izuku is left unsettled by all of this coming from his hero.

The shadows All Might leaves behind have enveloped Sir Nighteye and are slowly finding their way to Izuku.

anonymous asked:

For your AU post! I LOVE secretly married Aus, so how about one of those? I'm thinking IronPanther, maybe? Or IronFalcon! One of those (first one would be preferred, but both are great!), they've known each other much longer than in canon (obviously) and for some reason their relationship get's made public/ the other avengers find out?

Oh man do I enjoy Secretly Married AUs!! The drama, anon. The drama. Also fluff. Please fluff because unhappy endings break my heart. Anyways, I like both pairings, so I’m just gonna go with IronPanther. Btw this turned into a Post CW ficlet that focuses mostly on Tony and T’Challa, I hope that’s alright!


It happens on their fifteen year anniversary because of course it does. The universe refuses to grant them a single moment of peaceful happiness after all. Looking back Tony really doesn’t know how he didn’t see this coming.

And it’s so unfair because the last six months have been hard on the both of them. The last two years, to be honest. With the whole Civil War mess, T’Chaka’s death, the fighting and betrayal–well, Tony wishes he could say he was able to keep those events from affecting his marriage, but that would be nothing more than wishful thinking. The first time they had been fighting side by side and T’Challa had been in too much pain, too blinded by his desire for revenge for him to enjoy the moment, never mind that he’d been fighting against half his team. Then there was the matter of Siberia, of his husband taking Rogers and Barnes with him and leaving Tony behind and-

There’s a hand on his shoulder, warm and grounding, the pleasantly familiar sound of T’Challa’s voice, talking to him, slowly drowning out the ugly thoughts in Tony’s head.

He takes a shaky breath, blinks, meets his husband’s worried gaze. “Sorry,” he thinks he mumbles, and wishes the trembling would stop already.

It hasn’t been a good day. Not after someone–the Dora Milaje are already looking into it–leaked those pictures of them to the international press. Tony wants to laugh, but it ends up coming out as more of a hysterical sob.

Fifteen years. They’ve managed to keep their marriage a secret for fifteen years. Sure, they have been times they both wished the hiding would stop, but there had never quite been the right moment to announce it, and now? After everything? They were still trying to do damage control with the fall-out from the Accords, Tony honestly isn’t sure whether there could have been much of a worse moment for this to be revealed.

Forget the UN and Ross for a moment, how would Rogers and his little band of followers take the news? Their presence in Wakanda couldn’t become known,  at this stage it might lead to an actual war against the country and-

“Hush, my heart,” T’Challa’s voice rings strong and clear in Tony’s ears, and he allows himself to sink back into his husband’s arms, until his head is resting against T’Challa’s chest, listening to the rhythmic heartbeat.

“What are we gonna do?” Tony whispers, hopeless and worried and so, so, tired.

“We will figure something out,” T’Challa replies without hesitation, cards his hand through Tony’s hair. “Our marriage is not something I have ever been ashamed of, beloved, nor should we be. It is a bond of joy and love, that should be honoured. Ultimately there is nothing anyone can do. We have broken no laws, nor do we owe the world an explanation. And I will be glad to walk proudly by your side, instead of watching you across yet another hall.“

Almost against his will, Tony can feel himself relaxing, soaking up the utter calmness T’Challa exudes, the easy confidence soothing his frayed nerves. Rationally he knows they have faced much, much worse, knows that even though things aren’t gonna be easy, this particular issue will eventually be solved–but T’Challa makes him believe it, without hesitation or doubt.

“Love you,” he says into the high-quality shirt he’s burrowed his face in–it’s so soft too, Tony approves of his husband’s taste–because he can’t think of anything else to say. Most people would describe Tony as ‘incapable of shutting up’ but when it comes to his personal relationships, he has never been the most articulate.

The arms around him tighten, and he can hear T’Challa’s smile in his responding, “I love you too, my heart.”

“Be at ease for now, we will deal with this issue later. And get you to a hair dresser as soon as possible,” he adds after a moment, teasingly pulls on a strand of Tony’s admittedly rather unruly hair. 

A cut hasn’t been on his mind for months, and he can’t help laughing–at T’Challa’s antics, the situation, everything. He doesn’t need to look up to know that this has been T’Challa’s intention from the start, simply squeezes his hand in silent appreciation.

They’ve got this. They really do.

[The confrontation with the rogue Avengers is as ugly as T’Challa has expected it to be. The only positive side of this is that Tony isn’t anywhere near to hear the commotion, T’Challa might have been forced to kill someone otherwise. As it is, there isn’t much to be said about it, in the end. His marriage isn’t a recent thing, it doesn’t change the actual situation. Not that you’d believe as much, if you listen to Clint Barton’s poisonous rant. At least Captain Rogers’ indignant rant is silenced with a sharp reminder that trust only reaches as far as it is extended.

“Your mind is your own, but any insult against my husband is an insult against myself. I suggest you keep that in mind!” has been the only warning T’Challa is willing to grant them. His patience isn’t limitless and certain guests have been testing those limits for some time now.]

Timeloop Aftermath

((I decided to create a possible idea of what might happen with the Aftermath of this AU. It’s a brilliant AU, so many possibilities and great writing on your part (I also love your art wow)! So, here it is! I hope you like it!))

After the incident, everything in Jeremy’s life changed, and for the better.

After he told Michael about everything that had happened (using the journal as proof, even if he has to read it to him and persuade it to him enough to make him believe him), he was convinced by Michael to get the Squip out of his brain.

There was a whole shitload of stuff that happened (may possibly write it out), whereas Jeremy had to fight against the Squip'a forces, talk to Rich, and finally get that Mountain Dew Red to end it all, Michael being his main support.

Afterwards, with everything that had happened to them with the party and Squips, Jeremy finally seemed to be accepted by people. Not only did Rich come out as bi and started being good friends with Jeremy and Michael, he got them one step closer to Jake, Chloe, Brook and Jenna. Christine had taken a liking to helping Michael after the accident (Jeremy wasn’t into her anymore since he figured out his feelings for Michael, however he couldn’t help appreciate all the amazing things she did), and so the Drama Crew was formed, their friendship really unexpected and magnificent.

Not to mention that Jeremy and Michael had gotten together quickly. Jeremy visited Michael in the hospital everyday after the accident until he got out. Apparently Michael would have full blindness for up to a year, six-nine months at least, and then he’s have eyesight problems for the rest of his life (so, worse than needing glasses obviously, however he’d have partial blindness at times. However it wouldn’t affect him as greatly, and not as bad forever).

Despite the joking bets about how long they’d last, they lasted.. that’s just it. They lasted. They graduated, went to college together (They were cool in college, let me tell you,) and moved in together shortly afterwards. They went on dates, got a dog named Pac-Man (a stray Michael found on the street, what a furry,) , and eventually had a wedding! It was small but cute, the Crew was there, Jeremy’s dad was there, Michael’s parents were there, and Mr. Reyes was there for some reason. It was all amazing, life couldn’t go better for Michael and Jeremy Heere.

That’s the saying, you can only go up. But when you’re up, where else can you go? Well.. only down, of course.

Jeremy and Michael were in their early 40’s. It had been so long since everything happened, the two never imagined Michael’s sight could be so bad ever again. He had been able to see just fine since he had turned 31, despite still needing glasses. They hadn’t even costed the doctor in a whole year, they were so confident.

Confidence wasn’t enough.

Michael had always been insistent on driving himself places after he had gotten better. To practice driving again after getting better, he went to the grocery store to get stuff for the week for them every week, and he had just kept it up since. It wasn’t a big deal.

It had been September when this whole instance occurred. Jeremy sat at home on this Monday, when he had the work day off for Labor day. He sorted through the papers in his hands that was keeping him busy. It wasn’t business papers, oh no (he couldn’t work for a big business anyways, it reminded him of the Squip. Plus he just hated the thought of working in a cubical), these were adoption papers. Jeremy and Michael had been thinking about this for yesrs, and now they were thing of going through with this. He was reading through the different foster care systems near them, when he heard his phone ring.

Jeremy wasn’t one to let his phone go to voicemail unless he was really, really into something or just couldn’t reach the phone. This wasn’t one of those times. He was quite calm at the moment, normal, feeling alright..

He suddenly didn’t feel alright. With the sound of the stranger over the line telling him about the accident. Telling him that his player two had swivered off the side of the highway into a ditch in a frenzy. He was at the hospital. He was under-

Jeremy had stopped listening. Why? Because he dripped his phone on the way outside. Panic ran through his body as he sped out of the driveway in his car, cutting someone off and not caring for a single second.

He could barely breathe as he raced towards the hospital. He knew where it was from how many times he’s been there for this man and this man alone. This man he loved more than anything in the world. The man he saw die so many times before- but felt it so real this time that he felt like he would die right here and now if he didn’t make it to the hospital.

Adrenalin filled him as he crashed into the ER, frantically waving down anyone at all to tell him where Michael was. He looked insane, so if course, security had stopped him before a nurse had came to him.

“Where’s Michael? Where- I-Im married to him! I-is he ok?”

“Sir, were doing everything we can. Hes in a critical state. You have to calm-”

“I can’t calm down! I have to see him- h-he can’t die! I can’t let him d-die! Please!” Jeremy held back the word ‘again’. He also held back tears.

“Sir, I..”

Just then, a doctor stepped into the area. He talked to the lady at the front counter before making his way over to us. “You’re Jeremy Heere, sir?”

Jeremy nodded quickly. “Y-yes, where’s Michael? Is he ok? H-hes ok, right?”

The doctor had paused.

Jeremy felt a fear rush through him at this silence. “H-hes, t-tell me Michael’s ok! Tell me!” He persisted, his voice escalating.

The doctor spoke calmly, obviously rehearsed and drone-like. “I’m sorry sir. There was nothing else we could do for him. Michael had punctured his lung and bled to death before we could do anything usef..”

Jeremy felt his heart drop as the words sunk in. His thoughts seemed to stop, scream to a halt, not disappear, but a much , much worse feeling. The feeling of his whole life crashing down on him and fleeing him at the same time. His heart stopped, like everything else, for a pause that seemed to last for hours.

Then it all hit him. All of it. His heart came back, feeling an ache that only grew worse with every pump. His mind filled with the words of the doctor, the thoughts of his lovers death, the thoughts of Michael, Michael, Michael is dead.

Jeremy was crying. His cheeks were leaking as he pulled himself away from the other men. He stumbled back, still staring at the doctor. His vision became blurry as he started crying harder than every before, his breath becoming tiny gasps, his feet losing balance when he realised he was outside the hospital, on the grass. He brought his hands to his face, weeping and whaling profusely to himself, alone.

Everything came flooding back. And it all guilted him. He could have gone grocery shopping with him. For him. He could have taken him to the doctors to get checked up, seen that his sight might get worse. Checked that his lover was ok with a phone call, say “I love you, player two” one last time. The worst part was that he couldn’t remember the last words they had exchanged.

His mind was in such a spiraling state that he started thinking of everything bad that he ever did to Michael. He reached his deaths, he reached the looping. He remembered every death. He remembered his pain and how none of that pain was nearly as bad as it is now. Now was the worst day of his life. And there had been many bad days for Jeremy Heere.

He just wanted to see his face one more time. He wanted to see his lover, his player two, his alive husband, his best friend, his partner in crime, the most amazing person in the world-

“Or you’ll what?”

The bathroom. The light. The taste of shitty, terrible liquor threatening his mouth. And right in front of him, almost 30 years younger, was the love of his life. He teared up.

“M-Michael?”


(HOOOOO BOYYYYYY I AM. I AM DEC E ASED

I AM LIKE. LIKE THIS

I’M AM PHYSICALLY W EAK

That was really really really fantastic, wow!! I have had thoughts about making the timeline where Michael goes blind the final timeline, sort of like, there’s gotta be some sacrifices, but they don’t necessarily have to be someone dying, ya know? And just imagining all the fun stuff that he and Jeremy go through afterward, hoooo!

All I can think about now is Jeremy pushing Michael (who’s wearing like, shutter shades or a pair of ridiculous sunglasses probably) around in a wheel chair through school and Michael’s like “Move outta the way, bitches, I got an escort to class” and like. Once they recover they get comfortable enough to make blind jokes ppfffp
Although I do like the idea of Michael’s sight coming back eventually. Like the accident at Jake’s house was only temporary and he regains his sight after a couple months or a year or smth.

BUT ANYWAY BACK TO SCREAMING THAT WRECKED ME AAAA!! I just can’t imagine how awful that would be, to live thirty years and then be taken back in time all the way back to the start of the whole thing;; but now Jeremy can try to prevent the whole blind thing, yeah? (Maybe instead Jeremy ends up going blind :0)

STOP KILLING MICHAEL I say as I continue to kill Michael in multiple of my AUs haha–//shot

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THIS!! You guys are awesome continuing to shower me with fics and beautiful art and giving me more ideas for this AU I AM TRULY. TRULY BLESSED.)

I'm sorry but I'm in a hard spot - Personal, long post

This is a personal long post but I need to get it off my chest. Why I’m not active with SaveWOY. What’s going on… what’s wrong with me..

My benefit money has been stopped and I have been advised to get a job. I failed the employment support allowance assessment by only scoring 6 points when I needed 15.

I was tested in a quiet room one-to-one with a gentleman. I had to show that I could move all my limbs properly. He did take note of my anxiety tremors. I had to answer questions about my lifestyle and my medications.

I have Auditory Processing Disorder and so struggle to hear amongst background noise. He stood me by the window and told me to repeat words like cat and cardiff. I got them all right because the room was silent, so I passed. Of course I’m going to hear him in a silent room.

I have vision blackouts. Standing up or sudden light such as the sun coming out from the clouds, going into a room of different lighting or a light being turned on causes my vision to suddenly turn black, my head to spin, my eyes to hurt and sometimes my brain just kinda stops and I slump against the nearest thing. I get this daily, 4 – 5 times a day if I’m up and about the house.

I have severe anxiety and depression and am unable to be in groups of people. The APD makes this worse. I had to give up my last job due to being scared of human interaction. I’d hide behind the counter, sit on the floor and cry, feel physically sick, throw up in the toilets, unable to understand the customers due to the background noise or their accents causing them to become angry and frustrated with me. The only help they could offer me was service for my hearing aid which I do not have as the hospital have told me that a hearing aid will not help my APD as it is to do with my brain and I have had it all my life.

The stomach pain and weakness forced me to take many sick days off work or to go home early. I was often sent upstairs on 5 or 10 minute breaks but even sitting down and paracetamol couldn’t solve the problem.

Finally I have an undiagnosed stomach problem. I have had every test possible but every test came back clear. Aside from blood tests showing high liver enzymes . The hospital had no choice but to discharge me because they couldn’t diagnose the problem, they couldn’t treat, prevent or cure me. My only advice was to return if it got severe. I’ve been living with this condition since 2012 and was the reason I left University and gave up on my Animation studies. This is the main cause of my depression. The anxiety makes the stomach worse, and the stomach makes the anxiety and depression worse.

I am waiting for counselling and I’m currently being tested for Autism, as specialists suspect that I am autistic but somehow slipped under the radar as a child. And would explain why I’ve had social problems all my life, instead of being perceived as shy, and having sensory problems instead of “selective hearing”.

We have bipolar, depression, anxiety, seizures and cancer in our recent family history. So you can kind of see a link with some of these.

I can’t hold down a job at the moment. I spend most of my days in bed in pain, take paracetamol daily and just can’t function properly in society at the moment. I can’t even work from my computer right now. That’s why I was so shocked that I didn’t pass the medical exam. I’m going to appeal the decision but this means I will have no income for months and no guarantee that they will change their mind.

The doctors have recommended I visit the opticians to get my eyes looked at so they can work together to find the cause of my vision blackouts but since I’m not on ESA anymore, I have to pay, but I have no money. I have a contract phone, student loans and some medication to pay for but no income.

I hate doing this but if you could even donate $1 I would really seriously forever appreciate it, these donations will go towards my eye test so I can get this ball rolling, this will also provide me with more proof for my appeal. My Paypal is Gemma_c_11@hotmail.com

I currently just feel so lost. I’ve been let down by the system and I just don’t know what else to do. I’m so scared. I want to be able to support myself in the future but right now that’s just not possible. I need help until I get my counselling and more tests done so I know what’s wrong with me and whether these conditions are fixable.

I’m just so scared. And so sorry that it’s come to this. I never wanted to have to do this.

Meant to Be - Part Eighteen: Alone

All Parts

Request: Soulmate AU – When soulmates draw on themselves, it appears on the other’s skin as well.

Tagging: @elenarte @empyrealsakaki @gum-and-chips @karenthepoop @hammytrashy @falling-open  @urstupidmom @olympun @rebel-with-cause @mishaisakitten @depressionjoke @gemilton @ur-friendly-neighborhood-fangirl @regionallyblurredfaces @destiel-addict-forever @sxnyalxveshxrses@theinevitablesense @boiugotmehopeless @rachurro @hamilton-of-issues @phantom10526 @feral-tomcat-hamilton @alonelynoodle @ilesserpanda@kyloslightsaberdick @msageofenlightenment @pentagramtardis @artisticgamer @smol-angery-bean @abbylikeschickennuggets @little-miss-vanilla @marquisdelargebagutte @cant-we-just-dance @commandergreysonpike @abbyg14 @ixhadbadxdays  @pipindaae @series-killerr @creepycute08 @villaintv @brienne-evenfall @sunshinerainbowunicorn @trickstrqueen @liv-livingafandomlife @gamzeenmakara @ham-for-ham @fruityfrootloops @canyoubemyfour @whimsicalfangirlthings @kakapo-the-owl-parrot @ssnips @iimnotyourson @theonethatscalledtay @k9effect@meagisnotamazing @lunahdeer @karoline-phantom @aham-threw-his-shot-away @arissanoddle @autistic-alien @aceplaysbass @bathtab @xthaynesxalcoholx @sovaill @jamiltone @youreyesaretherealtruthtellers @artandshitposts @gold-cleaver @externallyandinternallyscreaming @iloveunicorns64 @arieava @mayzietuff @betweeneverytwopines @bisexual-baka @sparrowb07@iswearimsmol @gad-jeffs @actual-dorito-steve-rogers @turtlesneedglasses @shock-blanket @angelicaelizaandpeggu @totallyademigod @karmana-stevens-569 @honakanee @i-d-e-k-any-more @the-other-fifty-1 @thendergirl  @toomuchartsstuff @alibug134 @notthrowingawaymyfood@passiveaggressivelittlelion @bestfluteninja @multifandomweirdo @quiet-fawn-of-the-galaxy @trashy-dinosaur @iamindeedapotato @dismayed-mindset @trash-sicle @sammylynne321 @hamillton-laurens @ahyesfandoms @graycefulart @8grapenerds @jeffmads34 @sazzyli123 @drugsdiggs @sufferment @ideal-trash @etm13 @myotpisnotstraight

Word Count: 3786

WARNINGS: swearing, anxiety/panic attacks, mentions of homophobia, depression

Dedicated to: @hercdotmulligan @maiseylarks @toomuchartsstuff and @aliencoffeh for their amAZING art <3

A/N: yikes this is a long one but … today might be that day  ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)


As soon as Alex left Aaron’s property, he felt a cold weight drop into his stomach. His brain screamed at him to turn around; to go back to his soulmate. Thomas was willing to work things out now; why would he prolong their separation?

He half-turned back, but steeled himself. This was the right decision. It had to be. He let his feet take him wherever they would, not wanting to go back home, not wanting to go back to the party. For once in his life, he thought that maybe being alone would be best.

He wandered down John’s familiar street, trying to tamp down the rising panic. Alone was good. He could make it good.

Keep reading

Originally posted by supernatural-imagine-fanfiction

@deanssweetheart23 tormented me with this gif and most of the dialogue, so now I’m torturing back. Let’s call this a joint effort.


You leaned back in your chair with a yawn, stretching your arms up above your head. God you were exhausted, but you had to get this paper finished. It wasn’t due until tomorrow afternoon, but you knew that if you kept putting it off it would just get worse. Besides, despite your phenomenal procrastination abilities, you really hated rushing to finish things at the last second. You were more of a get-it-done-the-night-beforehand even-if-that-means-an-all-nighter girl. 

You squinted at the word document open on the screen, watching the little cursor appear and disappear at an almost hypnotizing rate. Writing it really shouldn’t be that hard, and you were making steady progress, it was just a lot slower than you’d like it to be. You risked a glance at the digital alarm clock across the room and immediately regretted it. It was far beyond late at night and had become early in the morning. When you looked back at the screen, your eyes began watering and you wiped at them tiredly. God the screen was bright… why the hell didn’t it dim anymore than that? 

“Sweetheart?” Dean’s low voice cut through the silence, making you jump. 

“Hey,” you said quietly, peeking up over the top of your laptop to look at where he had propped himself up on an elbow on the bed. “Sorry, is it too bright? I can go to the other room,” you said quickly, worried that you had woken him. 

“No, no it’s not that,” Dean said, his voice thick with sleep, “why aren’t you in bed yet?”

“I’m a little busy, D,” you reminded him with a small smile at the sight of his bedhead. Dean huffed out a sigh and collapsed back against the pillows. “I really can go outside if I’m bothering you,” you said in concern, but Dean just shook his head.

“S not that,” he mumbled, making you arch an eyebrow.

“Does the mighty Dean Winchester want to cuddle?” You teased, a full blown grin spreading across your face now. Dean groaned again, rolling his eyes as he flipped onto his side to face you.

I do not cuddle,” he informed you with a scowl. 

“Sure you don’t…” you chuckled, glancing back to your computer screen. 

“I just sleep better when you’re here, alright?” Dean admitted, rubbing his face and then running his hand through his hair. “Now come to bed already. It’s- shit, Y/N it’s two in the morning!”

“One more paragraph,” you bargained, blinking a few times as you tried to refocus on the page in front of you.

“Nope,” Dean mumbled, “need to hold you. C’mere.” When you looked up again, Dean’s eyes were bright from where he watched you, his head resting against the pillow. You had more to do, but dammit he looked so comfy.

“I gotta finish this, D…” you said, but he heard the hesitancy in your voice, saw the weakness. And god damn that man, he pouted. Those perfect lips combined with his puppy dog eyes completely did you in. You just couldn’t say no to him. With a little groan, you flipped the screen shut, making Dean’s face light up in a grin. You pushed out of your chair and made straight for the bed, where Dean had scooted over and pulled back the covers for you. 

A little sigh escaped your lips as you hit the mattress, letting the exhaustion finally wash over you. Dean pulled you in against him immediately, tangling his legs with yours and wrapping an arm around you. You giggled as he nuzzled against your neck, but your eyelids were already so heavy you couldn’t keep your eyes open. You barely felt Dean plant a soft kiss against your hair before you were asleep.

Quiet; Prologue

Fandom: WWE

Pairing: Baron Corbin/Female Reader

Rating: Holy shit M.

AN: Happy Thirst Party Saturday, everyone! Been working on this prologue for a little bit. Tagging our usual suspects, @tox-moxley, @oraclegazes, @hardcorewwetrash and @writergrrrl29. Enjoy!


Keep reading

Toafo Uhila

Hey, Kat! It’s my birthday! Have a fic!

oOo

Their first meeting goes something like this:

It starts with a chūnin in a sandy village trying desperately to not die of boredom. It starts with a beautiful blond leaning up against a wall, dressed in casual clothing and watching the night life as it bustles around them. It starts with a drunk jōnin swaggering over and pinching the other’s ass, earning a yelp from the blond. “Very nice ass, sugar,” he slurs out and leans in to try and get a kiss, only to receive a fist to his face. He staggers back, dropping his bottle and reaching up to clutch at his now freely bleeding nose. His friends immediately leap to his aid, coming up in a defensive formation.

“How dare you,” the blond hisses and the hitai-ate with a leaf engraved on it gleams in the moonlight. Through his drunken haze, the jōnin staggers forward and raids the pouch on his thigh for a kunai, raising it high. Pale, white light glints off of the blade and the blond rolls his eyes.

“That is quite enough. I do believe I’ve warned you before, Eiji.” A redhead lands gracefully on the ground, lips drawn into a thin, unimpressed line. There’s a large gourd on his back and what looks like gold sand is spilling out from the opening at the top. “Consider yourself in quite a bit of trouble.” The blond shivers slightly, enjoying the glide of the redhead’s voice as it forms each word. Opposing village or not, it’s a silky smooth tone that he, if he was being completely honest with himself, wouldn’t mind murmuring filthy things into his ear.

Eiji snarls and takes a step forward, spitting out, “Look here, you—” but his friends quickly drag him into the nearest shadows and the redhead turns to the blond.

“You are well, no?” the redhead asks. “Perhaps you shouldn’t venture into things that you can’t handle.” Never mind. He wants to spike the other in the face. Preferably with the nearest, heaviest, sharpest object he can find.

The blond twitches slightly, the vein in his jaw spasming. “I,” he begins and it’s perfectly polite, a thin undertone of agitation gliding just underneath the surface, “am perfectly capable of taking care of myself.” The unspoken ‘asshole’ does not go unheard.

“Well then,” redhead says and the amusement in the tone makes the blond want to murder him right then and there, “I shall let you take care of yourself, then.” And with that, he’s gone, the sand below him swallowing up his form.

“You absolute asshole,” the blond spits, scowling at the now empty spot.

“Hey, kiddo!” The blond spins on his heel and turns the vicious glare on the now approaching male.

Yes?” he grinds out through clenched teeth.

Jiraiya raises his hands in the universal sign of surrender and smiles like he isn’t facing a pissy blond. “You ready for the exams?”

Minato’s scowl morphs into a sharp smile that’s little more than teeth. “Oh, yes.”

And that was the end of their first meeting.

oOo

Their second meeting kinda goes like this:

Minato actually does get around to punching the redhead in the face.

“That wasn’t nice,” the redhead slurs and his voice is still amazing, even with a severely bleeding nose. It’s not quite as smooth as usual, just slightly rough due to him pinching his nose to stop the blood from getting all over his jōnin vest, but it’s still enough to make Minato shiver with need.

He’s only a newly minted jōnin himself, but the blond is certain that with both the Hiraishin and his Rasengen, he can take on the world. Maybe.

“Yes, well,” he returns, coolly, “maybe you shouldn’t startle me while I am making seals.”

The redhead rolls his eyes and curls healing chakra around his nose, snapping it back into place with a rather sickening crack.

Minato’s lips twitch up just slightly. He had actually broken the other’s nose with the force of his punch. That had been one of the most satisfying things he’s done in quite a while. “I do apologize,” redhead drawls, sounding anything but apologetic and Minato barely resists the urge to leap to his feet and punch him again.

“Liar,” he mutters under his breath, mentally cursing his weakness for smooth voices.

The other still hears him. “I’m hurt, pretty.”

He raises his fist and shakes it just slightly. “Call me pretty again….” Minato hisses and trails off, blue eyes gleaming with promised death.

“Very well.” the redhead says, raising his hands in surrender. “I shall see you later….pretty.” And then he’s gone, leaping over the rooftops before the blond can retaliate.

“You son of a bitch!” Minato bellows after him, fury painting every single word. He sinks back down to the ground and picks up his brush, mentally vowing to make the other pay.

He still doesn’t know the redhead’s name.

That was the end of their second meeting.

oOo

Their third meeting goes a little like this:

Minato’s smile is like death, all thin and evil with his lips pulled back to reveal far more teeth than psychically possible. The redhead in front of him shivers slightly and takes a step back, understandably wary. “Good evening,” the blond says, smile widening even further.

“Ah, uh, good evening, pretty?” It’s definitely phrased like a question and Minato’s eyes slide closed into little ‘U’s when the redhead takes a step back. The other shinobi in Konoha’s bathhouse, the ones who know about Minato’s vicious temper, carefully sidle out of the blond’s line of sight. They have no interest in being caught up in the explosion.

“Duck,” Minato purrs out. The redhead blinks confusedly at him for a moment and then yelps when the blond punches him in the face, again, as hard as he can.

“The fuck was that for?” he slurs out, clutching at his freely gushing nose.

“I did warn you about calling me 'pretty’,” the blond says easily, dropping his towel and sliding into the water.

“Honestly,” a third voice complains and Minato glances up when Orochimaru steps into the hot spring. A dark glare is all that’s needed to clear the entire place out, leaving just the three of them in the water and the Sannin relaxes with a sigh. An evil smirk flickers over their lips. “I hope you realize, Namikaze, that I will not be explaining to sensei if this becomes an international incident.”

Minato’s smirk is just as sinister. “Well then, Orochimaru-sama,” he says sweetly, “if you won’t say anything, then I won’t tell sensei about you spending lots of, ah, time with Hatake-sama.” He grins innocently when Orochimaru slips underneath the water, surfacing with a loud splutter. “Oops, was that supposed to be a secret? So sorry,” the blond coos, not sounding the least bit sorry.

“You!” the Sannin splutters, coughing as they spit out a mouthful of water.

“Should I come back later?” the redhead asks, looking like he wants to be anywhere but here at this exact moment. There’s a crack as he snaps his nose back into place for the second time in a row.

“I will string you up by your balls and feed you your own liver if you so much as twitch,” Minato says, a blue eye flickering to glance at the other.

The redhead scowls. “I don’t even know your name,” he complains.

“Oh? So sorry. I should give it to you, then.”

“Well?”

Minato shrugs. “I don’t know yours.”

Orochimaru heaves a ragged sigh and drops their head into their hands. “You punched a Suna jōnin without ever learning their name. Great. Just fucking great. And here I was hoping Jiraiya hadn’t managed to infect you.”

A beaming smile is his answer and the blond leans back against the edge of the pool, basking in the warmth of the water and the sunlight. “Sensei has been nothing but a perfect role model,” he says, the very picture of innocence.

“That’s…that’s what I was afraid of,” the Sannin breathes weakly, looking very much like they wish they had access to alcohol at this very moment. They sigh and drag a hand over their face, shoving dark hair out of golden eyes.

The redhead takes the chance to bolt for the entrance; he abandons his clothing and escapes wearing nothing but a towel, yes, but at least he makes it out alive and in one piece. Konoha shinobi, he thinks, shivering at the howl of rage that echoes behind him, are insane.

And that was the end of their third meeting.

oOo

Their fourth meeting is explosive:

Rasa’s in the middle of speaking with two other jōnin sensei about the final part of Konoha’s chūnin exams when what feels like a bucket of water is dumped over his head. A quick swipe of his fingers in the substance reveals purple paint. Purple glittery paint. The vein above one of his eyes twitches, and he can already see his comrades causally backing away from his seething form. Laughter echoes above him and Rasa spins on the ball of his foot, gold dust already writhing as it escapes from the gourd on his back.

There. On the roof. It’s that damn blond from before; the one who broke his nose twice already.

On a better day, Rasa wouldn’t even consider trying to murder an allied shinobi. On a better day, he might even laugh at the prank, then go take a shower. On a better day, he wouldn’t be brandishing a kunai and trying to rip someone’s throat out. Today…today is not one of those days, and Rasa snarls furiously, lunging forward before he can even get a grip on his temper. The blond dodges to the side, flipping gracefully onto another roof and covers his mouth again, smirking between his fingers. Rasa sees red.

“I,” he hisses, so close to actually committing murder, “am going to rip your throat out.”

“Kinky,” the blond calls back and his smile widens further at Rasa’s snarl of rage. “But you’re going to have to catch me first.” His form flickers once, then vanishes in a burst of yellow; he reappears further down the road, waves a hand, and then vanishes again.

Rasa screams in fury, his comrades snicker, and he immediately leaps to give chase. He’s going to drown the other in their own blood.

He still has no clue to their name, other than their last.

That’s the end of their fourth meeting.

oOo

Their fifth meeting is even worse:

Murder is not an appropriate way to deal with frustrating coworkers.

Murder is not an appropriate way to deal with frustrating coworkers.

Murder is not an approp— Rasa cuts his thoughts off halfway through the sentence and growls at one of his fellow shinobi. Not even three hours after he had attempted to hunt down and murder the blond—He failed, pretty miserably too—and his coworkers are already smirking at him.

“Quite the spitfire, ah?” one says, pushing brown hair over her shoulders, lips quirked up in that infuriating smirk Rasa has come to hate.

I will drown you in your own blood,” he hisses, partially because he’s furious and partially because he can’t leave that response unanswered. She puts her hands up in the universal sign of surrender, but the smirk on her face doesn’t change. Rasa narrows his eyes at her, darkens his glare, and hopes that nothing else can go wrong.

The universe, as always, likes to prove him wrong, and then laugh at his misery.

With a flash of bright yellow light, the blond reappears on the rooftop. He doesn’t even look tired, and there’s a massive grin on his lips. “Wow,” he says, looking pleased with himself, “only three hours before giving up? That’s sad.” He shakes his head slowly, almost like he’s disappointed. “Not a lot of fun with a chase. Peaks really quickly without touch and absolutely no stamina at all.”

Beside Rasa the brunet chokes, then starts laughing hysterically, mouthing 'No stamina’ like it’s a prayer from Kami itself. On her left, the ginger begins cackling and slumps against a wall in an attempt to stay upright. Rasa fumes, and because he’s petty like that, pops the cork on his gold dust just so he can flood the area with sand.

Glancing around when the dust has settled somewhat, Rasa’s already feeling smug at the sight of the ginger and brunet cursing his name as they spit the grit out of their mouths. His gaze flickers upwards, and the redhead is already preparing for the sight of the blond in the same situation, when he actually gets a look.

That fucking bastard is wind affinity and running a Kami-damned slipstream, the sand-filled air shifting around him, never once touching the Konoha jōnin uniform. Rasa would be impressed if he wasn’t in the middle of contemplating murder.

Just before he can actually use his chakra to fill the other with spears made of sand, he laughs, bows, and vanishes in a burst of yellow. The veins in Rasa’s jaw jump.

And that was the end of their fifth meeting.

oOo

Their sixth meeting is simultaneously worse and better:

“I would like to introduce my successor, Namikaze Minato,” Sandaime Hokage Sarutobi Hiruzen says, gesturing towards the doors of the Halls of the Kage Council. Namikaze, Rasa thinks with a slight twitch, sounds awfully familiar. He glances up just as the doors open and snarls when a horribly familiar blond practically skips through.

“YOU!” Rasa bellows and slams a hand down on the table hard enough to spread minute cracks along the surface. The other Kages jerk at his volume, but the redhead is too furious to care.

“I wasn’t aware that you two knew each other, Rasa,” Sarutobi says, looking like he’s half an inch away from pinching the bridge of his nose.

“He broke my nose,” Rasa seethes. “Twice.” White eyebrows shoot up and Sarutobi actually reaches to pinch the bridge of his nose, an exasperated sigh escaping his mouth.

Namikaze smiles sunnily at him. “You startled me while I was working on my seals.”

“You punched me because I called you pretty,” the Kazekage informs him flatly.

“Yes, well, that too,” the blond says with a careless shrug, and Rasa makes a sound like a boiling teakettle. Namikaze merely beams in his direction and takes a seat. “Now, where were we?”

Murder is not an appropriate response to annoying Kage, Rasa thinks, sinking into his own seat with a mute sort of fury, but I sure wish it was.

She’s A Servant

Originally posted by alphabomb

Requested by anonymous:

“Could you do an imagine where the reader is in love with Arthur, but doesn’t dare say anything. She does tell Merlin however, who urged her to tell him. When morgana kidnapped the reader and tortures her, Arthur goes out of his mind to try and get her back, and when he does, he finally confesses to her that he has loved her for so long and they have a moment.”

Warnings: torture scene, angst, fluff

Note: First Merlin request!! let’s see how this goes :’) x I got super carried away with this but oh well


Wash the King’s ceremonial robes, make the beds, feed the royal horses, help out in the kitchen and… and… oh god what was the last thing? 

You inwardly cursed yourself as you ran through all the possible things you might have to do but could not for the life of you remember. Why were you so forgetful? These five things were the only things you needed to remember for the day, that was your only job. “Oh right do a delivery for Gaius.” You muttered when it hit you, letting out a breath of relief. 

You hurried down the endless maze of hallways of Camelot castle, weaving and dodging the other servants. You hadn’t been this stressed since King Arthur’s coronation. One of the other servants had to take the day off because of a high fever which left you with double the workload you normally had.

“Can someone for the love of god please go and fetch him! Tell him it’s a matter of urgency!” A loud voice thundered. You ignored it continuing to hurry through the hallways, being a servant for Uther Pendragon had made you used to shouting.

As you rounded a corner you smacked into a firm chest sending you stumbling back. Luckily you had pretty good balance and managed to not drop the mountain of clothes you had piled up in your arms.

“Ah *yn* just the person I wanted to see.” The person greeted and you poked your head around the clothes to see Gwaine. “Gwaine.” You greeted. “I must say you do look lovely today.” He remarked. “What do you want?” You asked raising a brow, knowing fully well it was probably going to be something you didn’t want to do.

“Well…” He trailed off. Yep here we go. “Agravaine needs to see the King, it’s an urgent matter regarding the kingdom. So it would be really helpfully if you went and fetched him.” He spoke before sending you an innocent smile.

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Yours and Mine.

Gladio smut was promised, and thus Gladio smut has been delivered. Enjoy! 

Bit of rough sex, angst, jealous Gladio, etc.

Gladio x f!reader

3300 words.

NSFW

It was only supposed to be one night. One night of meaningless sex, one night of letting out every frustration that the goddamned World of Ruin had invoked with a friend who needed it as much as you did, one night of lust and roughness, and nothing more.

Then one night turned into two.

Then three.

Then four.

Before you knew it, both you and Gladio had lost count.

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Calling it Hope

Summary: Abby misses Marcus after returning from Polis, so she seeks comfort in his room, his trinkets, his clothes. Of course, because she’s back in Arkadia, nothing is ever really private…and she learns some news that changes everything for her and the man she loves. 

(Translated, my Abby/Raven brotp feelings got away from me and I cried three times while writing this and it’ll probably have another chapter).


Everything looked like him, smelled like him, felt like him.

From the trinkets on his bedside table to the paintings on the wall, Abby could practically sense Marcus Kane in the room. She could see him sitting in the chair at his small metal table poring over maps of the surrounding area, laying in bed reading one of the numerous books from his amassed quantity on his bookshelf, gently hanging his guard jacket on the hook on the back of the door.

He was everywhere and nowhere, with her and in Polis.

Some logical part of her knew it was silly, girlish even, to come wandering into his room in the middle of the night when she couldn’t sleep. What was she, a lovesick teenager? She’d only returned from Polis that morning, could still taste their goodbye kiss on her tongue. His “may we meet again” still echoed in her heart, her head, written into her pulse. A few hours was by no means enough to stir the deepest depths of absence-induced longing in her heart, but it was enough to make her uncomfortable: enough to drive her thoughts back along the path she’d travelled and up into their room in the tower.

What was he doing right now? Had Roan fought and won? Was the alliance still intact? And if it wasn’t, had he, Octavia, and Indra gotten out of the city safely?

Again, logic: there was little merit in giving weight to unfounded questions and doubts. But with Luna’s arrival – and illness – it had been a chaotic day, and Abby had quickly begun tiring of reining in her wayward brain. Her exhaustion pushed her doubts into a downward spiral, and a constant, nagging churning in her stomach hadn’t subsided since she heard the Polis gates close behind her. It had become increasingly difficult to force herself to remain sensible where Marcus Kane was concerned.

Such ruminations would be typical of the kids – of Monty and Harper, maybe, whom she’d just learned were in a relationship – but she was a grown woman, well past having learned how to cope with the absence of the man she loved. She constantly reminded herself that Marcus was fine, that this was by no means the first time they’d been separated, that they’d been parted during far more strenuous times in the past. All things considered, this separation should have given her less cause to worry than the others.

And yet, when she woke from a hellacious City of Light flashback of a nightmare, there was only one person she wanted to see. One man whose arms she wished were around her, one voice she wanted to hear soothing her as she briefly struggled to see through the hazy mirage of dreams. But her bed was empty, the sheets around her cold with his absence, her skin cool without the warmth of him beside her. As she took a seat in one of the cold metal chairs at his table and rested her elbows on the surface – then her head in her hands – she took deep breaths and tried to shove the tears searing at the corners of her eyes into submission.

It may have been late – later than almost anyone else in Arkadia would be awake – but she’d left the door open out of an informal self-reassurance. She couldn’t give into this now: not when they’d only been separated for less than a day. She just needed to be here, she told herself, for a few minutes. To feel him for long enough to calm her racing heartbeat, to absorb the remnants of his smile and laughter that remained in those stationary objects. Being here was like sitting in the sunlight; she felt safe, warm, hopeful.

When she was here, she was with Marcus.

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