idek guys

anonymous asked:

Okay but just think of the dozens of Sterek fics that will come from that small scene of Stiles saying blindness is his biggest fear and Derek questioning him. I can just imagine one with Derek hearing Stiles heartbeat stutter and later confronting him about it and Stiles being all like 'of course it's not my biggest fear, don't you know me at all? My biggest fear is losing you again, watching you bleed out and not being able to do anything about it, not being able to save you.'

Derek’s eyes linger after Stiles looks away, his body shifting restless, fingers clenching and loosing in a twitch across the exam table. The lie hangs bright and obvious in the air –– less in the absent hitch of heartbeat or the burn of nerves that don’t taste quite like embarrassment or like fear. Derek could explain those things away in context if he tried, but he can’t explain the way the words fail to line up with everything he knows he knows about Stiles.

“Becoming blind?”

“Yeah… terrified of it. Always have been.

He wonders if it’s as obvious to Scott as it is to him, but the rest of the group’s already moved on, not missing a beat, focus shifted back to the problem at hand while Stiles re-centers. His pulse sharpens again and his eyes lift back to Derek, flicking up and away before moving back to Scott again, sliding seamless back into the conversation.

Derek shakes off the strangeness, and follows him.

.-

“Why did you lie in there?”

Stiles’ step falters on the question, and the resigned set of his shoulders tell Derek he’d been expecting this and hoping every bit as much to avoid it. Derek almost wants to take it back, tell Stiles is doesn’t matter, let whatever horror lives in the darkest place of Stiles’ heart lie there undisturbed… but this is too important.

He crosses his arms, keeping his tone and stance indifferent like that might make this conversation any easier.

“We need to know what’s coming, Stiles. When these things manifest, it’s not just going to be your fear anymore. It could threaten everyone.”

He’s not expecting the laugh that punches out of Stiles, harsh and thin and edged bitter enough to make Derek’s unaffected stance falter.

“Don’t you think I know that?”

Dark masks and fireflies float through Derek’s mind. A too-pale stranger with Stiles’ face and cold, ancient eyes. A huge lizard with paralyzing claws, and too-wet breaths as water threatened to pull them downward. A misshapen wolf with crimson eyes and spittle-laced breath, and an image of ghostly horsemen Derek had never seen, only heard of in Peter’s stories.

Derek could stab guesses at Stiles’ worst fears, could conjure up possibilities in Stiles’ quaking hands and nervous eyes as they darted out to the empty parking lot, looking for an escape before moving reluctant back to Derek. But he couldn’t know, and he needed to know, especially if it was something that could hurt the group.

…Especially if there was a way he could help Stiles prepare for it.

When it comes, he’s the one who’s unprepared.

“I can’t lose you again,” punches out rough and shaken, stunning Derek into stillness. Salt stings the air as tears well, and Stiles looks away on a wet breath, hand raking into his hair and tugging. “You were… dying and I walked away. I had to, there was nothing I could–– And then you were just gone afterward and I knew you were fine, I knew it was better that way but… fuck, Derek. It felt like you’d died some days.”

The tear tracks down and Derek feels his head shaking, arms falling from their faux-casual cross. The words are ringing through his mind, rattling around in a way that makes no sense and makes too much sense, echoes something too raw and honest inside him and he steps forward, “Stiles…” falling out soft, but Stiles is rocking a step back, shaking his head and swiping rough at the tear. Derek lets him retreat.

“My mom died in front of me.” This confession falls out soft, and Stiles’ shoulders shrink in against the sting of them. He looks small again, sixteen or years younger, and it takes an effort not to move in and shelter him from the sting of his own words. “And I just… I couldn’t do anything. Couldn’t save her. Do you know how that––” He cuts off, because he knows Derek knows. Derek understands that feeling better than anyone. It’s a bond Derek’s always wished they didn’t share.

Stiles shakes his head, blinking quick.

“Fuck, I can’t go through that again, ok? If these things are bringing our worst fears to life then I’m better off away from it, for everyone’s sake. What if it kills you because of me, because–– I can’t watch someone else I love die.”

The words hang. Stiles has gone strangely still suddenly. In the clinic, some young pup sets up howling.

“…You love?” Because Stiles had been talking about his mother, but he’d also been talking about Derek. About losing loved ones, and that…

Stiles’ breath hisses out, body tensing up defensive and challenging. His hands ball up, shoulders setting broad again, and it feels like every argument they’ve ever had when Stiles meets his eyes, daring him to doubt the revelations he’d just laid out.

Derek had learned a long time ago not to doubt Stiles.

“Don’t be an idiot,” he says, like it’s obvious. Like it’s some undeniable fact that Stiles loves him, fears losing him, that in all the nightmares of Stiles’ life, losing Derek could rest in anywhere near the same category as possession or dementia, or his mother’s death. But Stiles has always been afraid of losing people he loved, of not being able to save them… and Derek is one of those people. 

Derek is the person Stiles couldn’t look at while thinking about loss.

He moves forward a step, and Stiles doesn’t retreat this time, amber eyes locked with an expression that’s caught somewhere between challenge and pleading.

It’s one of the most terrifying moments of Derek’s life as he lifts his hand to Stiles’ cheek, and the most natural thing in the world once it’s resting there.

“I’ve died before,” he reminds Stiles, softly. “That’s not about to beat me. I’ll always come back… for you.”

“For me?” Stiles sounds breathless, doubt and hope warring as Derek’s thumb brushes over his tear-streaked cheek.

Derek tilts his head, warmth touching his eyes.

“Don’t be an idiot.”

When Stiles grins and presses their lips together, Derek forgets what it’s like to be afraid.

More Watertribe Lance
Also avatar Lance this time because we talked about this with friends and we are lance trash we wondered what kind of pet Lance would have if he was the avatar… Like Aang has Appa and Korra has Naga.

And we ended up with a Peacock-Lion because it just suits him perfectly

(also it was supposed to be Keith’s pet -bc yeah it’s definitely more a firenation-ish beast- but things happened ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) i’ll write headcanons someday lmao)

pansexualtrashcan  asked:

YO nurseydex "nice. great. perfect. fuck this." or holsom "quit it or ill bite"

Yolio, my friend.
I realized the other day that I am the shittiest in the world at writing ransom, so nurseydex it is. 

Dex was not having a good day. At all. In fact, it was decidedly bad.

The worst part was that there wasn’t anything especially horrible that happened. It was just a unch of small things, all at once. First he forgot his bio lab in his dorm, after he spent all night working on it, and the TA wouldn’t accept it late. The strap of his bag broke, and yeah, he’d been using the same one since his junior year in high school, but he had budgeted to buy a new one next month.

In an effort to make his day a little brighter, Dex decided to stop at Annie’s and splurge on himself. Bitty got him hooked on their stupid hazelnut mochas, but he rarely spent the money on himself. He barely got a sip before he spilled it all over shoes.

So, yeah, everything sucked. None of it was life-shattering bad, though, which just pissed him off more.The only thing he had to look forward to was the fresh lemon bars that he knew Bitty had set aside for him. And maybe, just a little bit, he was looking forward to the Haus, too.

He wasn’t sure when it happened, but sometime between his first semester and his third, Dex started thinking about the Haus as home. It was nothing like his actual home, back in Maine. His house was always quiet and pristine.

The Haus, though. It was always loud and messy, full of people and the weird combination of fresh pie and microwave corndogs. Some part of it reminded him of life before Michael signed his enlistment papers (and his death warrant). A little bit of that tension he’d felt building between her shoulder blades for years eased when he walked into the Haus.

Yeah, the day sucked, but he had that, at least. The only bad thing about the Haus was the Nursey seemed to love being there just as much as Dex, and what he could put his finger on exactly was when he fell head over heels in love with Nursey.  After a grueling practice one morning, they changed, like usual, in the locker room. But for the first time, Nursey noticed the small tattoo Dex had tucked under his bicep. He got this overjoyed look on his face, more excited than Dex had ever seen him look before, and that was it. That was the moment when Dex realized he was in love.

Dex hated it. He didn’t want to fall in love. He wanted to go to school, graduate as soon as humanly possible, and make as much money as humanly possible. No feelings, no drama. Hockey was his backup plan, and that’s it. No time for love, or dating, or feelings of any kind.

Among other things, it messed with his game, which means messing with his plan B. Every time he looked at Nursey, he got stupid fluttery feeling, which made him angry, which made him lash out. Lashing out ruined any sort of friendship they had, which made him even angrier. And that, all of that, translated to how they played together on the ice.

Usually, he could hide the stupid hurricane of emotions he felt whenever he saw Nursey, but he was having a bad day. He wanted the weird peace the Haus gave him and he wanted lemon bars, and nothing else.

Dex especially didn’t want to watch Nursey flirting with his stupid peer review partner. So, when he walked into the Haus and saw just that, he couldn’t help his outburst.

“Nice. Great. Perfect. Fuck this,” and walked out.

The fucking lemon bars could wait. They could barely make up for his already shitty day, let alone make up for all of the shitty things he would feel having to sit through a forced conversation with Nursey.

He barely made it four houses down frat row when he heard steps running after him. Dex didnt have to look back to know that is was Nursey. He didn’t bother to slow down.

“Dex, hold up. Dex, wait.” A warm hand clapped on his shoulder, just this side of too hard. “Dude, fucking stop.”

Dex stopped with a sigh. He turned, and seeing Nursey’s stupid face didn’t do anything to help. His stomach swooped and it made him a whole new level of angry.

“What do you want, Nursey?”

“I want to know what the fuck your problem is.” There was a look in those green eyes that Dex had never seen before.

Something in Dex broke. Any somewhat reasonable answer was a lie. It wasn’t anything that contributed to his bad day that was the problem. It wasn’t even the bad day. It was everything, all at once. It was all his stupid feelings. That was the real answer, the answer he was sick of not giving.

“What’s wrong with me is that my socks are sticking to my shoes, since I spent money I don’t have on a coffee I spilled straight away. My problem is that I needed my bag to last until next month and I broke it today. My problem is that my dick lab TA refused to take my report late, so the highest I can get in the class onw is an 89.

“My problem, Nursey, is that every time I walk into the Haus and see you flirting with whatever his name is, I don’t know if I’m more mad at him for being your type or at myself because I’m not. And my problem is that more and more I don’t know if I want to punch your stupidly beautiful face or kiss it.”

He noticed that Nursey’s hand was still on his shoulder. Some time during his incredibly ill-timed speech, he had taken several half-steps forward and was now well into Nursey’s personal space. Dex couldn’t help but look at Nursey’s face. He expected anger or maybe that same odd expression from earlier, but the small smile was a surprise.

Dex felt Nursey’s hand slide carefully down his arm, slipping solidly into his own. “You think my face is beautiful?”

Just like that, the day was forgotten. All the crap fell away and it was just stupid chirps and cute smiles and a warm hand. “Shut up, you know you’re cute.”

“Oh, no. You can’t downgrade me from beautiful to cute like that.”

Dex took another small step forward, close enough that their shirts brushed against each other. “Fine, you’re beautiful. Now, can I kiss you while I still feel like it?”

He got a small nod.

The kiss wasn’t spectacular. It wasn’t fireworks. Dex’s shoes still squelched and his shoulder was sore, but it was exactly what he wanted. And it was perfectly them.

kyuubinu  asked:

Yugioh AU where the mains are models. Duels are just like. America's next top Model style shit.

SOLD. 

Seto Kaiba has been the most highly-sought-after model for the past few seasons (let’s see how far into this I can get before it becomes apparent I know NOTHING about fashion / modelling / ANTM)

Until one day, shy, short, unbecoming Yugi Mutou shows up, constantly underestimated and bullied, but when he steps onto the catwalk, he’s like another person, you forget how short he is, his charisma is electric, he draws every eye. 

The rivalry is born.

Seto is particularly furious that, after years of keeping his richly brown hair short and staid so it matches whatever outfit he wears, Yugi Mutou shows up with some spiked, dyed monstrosity that should clash with every single outfit and instead he somehow pulls it off. 

Jounouchi is a slouch and always late but the crowd loves him. Malik is attention-seeking, -grabbing and -demanding. Bakura is softly-spoken, helpful and apologetic backstage but a demon on the catwalk … and causes the most paparazzi Incidents (rumour has it he once killed a man in the changing room toilet). Mai is a consummate professional who still somehow gets overlooked every season. Isis literally started modelling to prove a point to Malik.

Pegasus is the main fashion designer, he plays up his interest in the novelty that is Yugi/Yami in order to make Seto jealous. Otogi has a blaze of glory first season, but the pressure is too much and he drops out and becomes Pegasus’s assistant. Anzu choreographs the runway routines. Honda is security and Jounouchi’s smoking buddy in the back alley. Rishid is Malik and Isis’s brother and plays the part of Malik’s Personal Bodyguard.

Turns out! spoiler alert Yugi and Bakura are both being possessed by idk let’s say Regency-era ghosts; a prince and a bastard son of a lesser noble who died in a mysterious duel/murder-suicide after a very public row over a cravat, who have now returned to finish their sartorial feud!

fantastic foursome vs icarly !!


(ignore the watermark on the left, that’s from my old phan account on instagram lmao)