more than just a team

3

// seokmin for dazed kr.

langst prompts

why am i like this

-Lance dies to save everyone else but they don’t know he’s dead and they’re all complaining over the comms like, “ugh, Lance why can’t you ever listen, we’ve been calling you back for the past 10 min” and “you were supposed to be over here?? Can’t you do anything right” and so that’s the last things he hears

-Lance is in the healing pod again, and once again everyone is distracted when he gets out and so he wakes up to, “Lance just can’t stay out of the pods, can he?” And everyone’s laughing and so he feels like he’s failing the team bc he gets injured the most

-Lance notices that Keith is Shiro’s favorite so he thinks maybe if he learns to act more Keith-ish Shiro will like him too (and then the team figures out and tells him they like him to just be Lance and he takes it as the team believing he can be nothing more than “just Lance”)

-slowly, Lance stops flirting with Allura, but she doesn’t notice and continues to treat Lance like he’s always flirting (constant sighs as he opens his mouth and her telling him to leave him alone and such)

-someone says they’re sad, so the team comforts them. Lance opens his mouth (to say he can relate) but the team assumes it’s gonna be a joke so they tell him to shut up

-Haggar uses magic so everyone temporarily forgets Lance and also makes him invisible so he has to watch everyone ignore him

-as a prank, someone locks Lance in the airlock and he just can’t stop freaking out

-Lance getting thanked by a random alien and he just breaks into happy tears and the team is like, “????”

Someone pls write one of these I need itt!

3

This answer is so much better than any tag line I could have ever come up with.

my dudes

my buddies

my pals

Let’s be real for a second in terms of like where this show is headed with regards to my favorite character (surprise it’s Lance jk no one is surprised)

Recently this tweet happened:

And some people are taking this really well and other people… not so much. Which makes sense since all of us have been like #thirstin for something more for Lance and have been met with a lotta nothing, but I think this tweet is actually a good thing.

So in this recent interview with Kimberly, Josh, and Jeremy, Jeremy basically says what he’s been saying since day 1 that’s been echoed by a lot of the other cast members and crew.

Basically: Lance will step up to the plate and he’ll become more of a leader and take on more responsibility but at the end of the day…

Lance.

Is.

Lance.

And when people ask for more about Lance in terms of his character, you don’t really hear much beyond this, which is exTRemEly frustrating but just hear me out.

It might not be this deep but I think it’d be cool if there’s a reason for the Voltron team being so adamant in the fact that “Lance is Lance.” And he will always be no matter what. This can go one of two ways.

1. Lance is Lance because he will always only be comic relief. 6 seasons of comic relief. That’s him. He’s Lance. A flirt. Cocky. Goofy. Sure he might have some moments like we’ve seen in S1 and S2 but for the most part he’s there to be the team goofball to make everyone laugh (or groan with frustration and annoyance)

Which is shitty and terrible and I will be so angry if this is what goes down but for now let’s move onto the MUCH BETTER option 2.

2. Lance does become a leader (maybe a co-leader? Right hand man? stays the Blue Paladin and just kinda steps up more? whatever) but no matter how tough things get, no matter how worn down the team is, no matter how hopeless the situation seems, Lance can still be Lance. And I don’t just mean he’s able to crack a joke at a tense time to lighten the mood, though that also is a part of it. I mean that he is able to keep a level head and calmly think things through even in chaotic or near impossible situations

That he is always concerned about the well-being of other and is willing to lay down his life for his friends (AKA PEOPLE HE JUST MET)

That he’s also not afraid to call out these friends when he thinks they are making a mistake (there seems to be a running theme with this one…..)

That he’s also appreciative of his friends and pays attention to their needs/wants and their strengths

And that he will always go down swinging

But maybe most importantly, and this is what I hope the Voltron team is trying to get at, Lance will never lose his joy and excitement and happy go-lucky demeanor. This is what makes him the Blue Paladin (and also why I think he would make a great Black Paladin but anyways….). He’s the glue of the team and this means more than just being the comic relief and making ill-timed jokes.

I really love the Lance that is able to start a weird space spore fight or wants to knit sweaters for Arusians. I love the Lance that enjoys doing a crazy dance while explaining their extremely dangerous plan to defeat Zarkon. I love the Lance that has fun coming up with wild ideas about what else could be locked up in Beta Traz. It’s not that he’s not taking his job as a Paladin seriously but rather that he is trying to take this crazy situation in stride as much as possible. We know that he can be worried, insecure, and lonely, but this never stops him from being who he is. He stumbles, loses confidence, regains it, and stands back up again ready to start swinging at the next asshole who decides to come for him and his friends.

Lance is adaptable just like water. He might come in different forms (serious, competitive, caring, homesick, flirtatious, etc) but at the end of the day it’s all of it is a part of who he is. He might need to get better at figuring out the appropriate timing of being leader Lance or flirty Lance, but it’s not like he has to lose the more immature part of him to become a more well-developed character.

So when people say “Lance will always be Lance,” I’m actually pretty fucking thankful. I’ve read some Langst where Lance becomes more “Keith-like” to cope with his insecurities which……. I’m conflicted about. I don’t think he needs to go as far as NOT be him in order for the team to learn to appreciate him more. So I think this affirmation from the staff that Lance will always be himself no matter what makes me believe that he will be what keeps the team together through the difficult and tumultuous times to come. That even despite his clear self-doubt he will be able to put the team and others first and maintain his role as the glue. That he will still manage to grow and change as a Paladin AND maintain the things that make him Lance.

There will be growing pains, of course, (I’m guessing a lot to do with Keith) but just because he’s insecure doesn’t make him weak. Lance doesn’t have to become more serious or stoic in order to be taken more seriously or be more “mature.” Then he wouldn’t be the Lance we know and love. He can withstand the challenges to come and develop as a character without sacrificing these integral parts of himself. He is capable of SO MUCH and I can’t wait for him to unlock the potential that was always there within him and makes him who he is.

Don’t ever tell me that marching band isn’t important.

I have had so many problems with public schools putting all the emphasis on athletics. When a school’s budget is cut, they don’t choose to take a little from each program. No. They choose to completely eradicate the arts programs, usually starting with the marching band. If you don’t play sports, you’re not a valuable asset, you’re not qualified for scholarships, and you mean nothing. Marching band? Why would we be impressed that you’re in marching band?

Anyone can do that.

Okay, fine. Anyone can do marching band. Anyone can spend hours on the field doing the same forty-second section over and over and over and over. Anyone can hit over 75 precise dots on the field with the correct step sizes, the correct amount of steps, the correct timing, without being so much as an inch to either side, in order and without looking at the yard line markers or the field. Anyone can memorize all of those extremely specific points on the grass and varying counts for steps and then execute them with a shako visor pulled down over your eyes and looking up at the press box the whole time. If you look down at the yard line markers to see where you are, congratulations, you just lost points for the group.

Anyone can memorize eight pages of notes, rhythms, dynamics, phrasing, and tempos. (But of course, before you do that you have to learn an instrument with hundreds of different fingerings and learn how to make slight changes in your lips to change notes and stay in tune.) Memorize all seven and a half minutes of music and then marry it to the seventy-five pages of drill you memorized. Do them both perfectly and at the same time. But you can’t just do what you memorized. You have to do it in perfect sync with everyone around you and know how to make the slightest adjustments to fit perfectly within the group. If you’re an inch to the right or barely a thousandth of a step sharp, it’ll throw everything off.

But anyone can do that.

Then add in the fact that you don’t get any individual credit for doing this. The closest you’ll come to recognition is your identity lumped into “The Such-and-Such Marching Band” as you all march onto the field looking exactly the same. You don’t have a number on your back. You have a uniform intended to erase you and turn you into dot T14 and nothing more.

But, for some reason you can’t explain, you love it. You love throwing everything you have into this ridiculously precise pursuit and then not getting any credit for it. You start thanking people when they call you a band geek. You start taping pictures of marching bands into your locker. You start wearing your band shirt everywhere you go. Because you look at the person in an identical uniform next to you and you know that you’ve done this for them and they’ve done this for you. This is more than just a team, this is a family; and if one person is missing from the form, the show can’t ever be the same. 

It costs so much money, so much time. You’re out there on the field in the blazing sun for fourteen hours a day during summer band camp, out in the street getting frostbite on your fingertips during the holiday parade. If anyone knew what you went through for this, they would wonder what made it all worth it.

And the truth is, what makes it all worth it cannot be described. It’s the camaraderie between you and the center snare, the colorguard newbie, the tenor sax player in the set in front of you. It’s the sunset behind you lighting up the back of your plume. It’s the hazy nostalgia that racks your chest with emotion. There’s something about the family you’ve chosen and the experience you’ve internalized that gives you the passion to throw everything down onto that field like nothing else matters in the world… because in that moment, it’s true. 

Your nerves are damaged from the cold. Your skin is damaged from the sun. Your joints are damaged from marching and marching and marching. You’re physically and mentally drained, your body is irreversibly compromised, you’re broke as hell, and all you have to show for it is a polyester jacket and a couple of blurry photographs.

But sports are what require hard work and dedication, not marching band.

Even though you complained basically the entire time you marched and even though you’re done with it, you pull out those photographs and you remember. You remember your first day of high school band camp when you had absolutely no idea what you were getting yourself into. You remember your first final retreat when they announced your band’s name as state champions, and you wanted to cry with happiness but you weren’t allowed to move, so you just clenched your fists so tight that your fingernails dug white crescents into your palms. You remember coming back the next year and thinking you knew everything as a sophomore, only to realize there was still so much to learn. You remember the band trips you spent months fundraising for, all the lame tourist attractions you visited between performances, and how you wouldn’t trade those memories for all the money in the world. You remember being a junior and getting nervous because people looked up to you now: as an upperclassman, as a section leader, as a friend. And then you were a senior and you cried on the final day of band camp. You remember how your life became a series of lasts. You had to decide which of the freshmen would inherit your band cubby, your lucky bottle of valve oil, your bus seat. You went to graduation but it didn’t mean anything because you still had one last band trip coming up. You didn’t shed a tear when you tossed your cap but you cried like a child after your last parade. You remember on the plane ride home, you expected to feel devastated and heartbroken, but you just felt… empty.

You remember printing out what seemed like the most difficult solo in the world. You remember driving up to your college and entering a room with a chair and a stand and a couple of people giving you skeptical looks. You remember getting an email from the college marching band with your audition results and reading it with tears of joy in your eyes because you realized it was starting all over again.

But marching band doesn’t mean anything. It doesn’t matter.

Tell me that it doesn’t matter. Tell me as many times as you want. You could scream it in my face and I still wouldn’t hear because the music we’re making is too damn loud to let anything else in. 

Tell me that it doesn’t matter when I’m standing on the field for the last time, knowing that everything behind me will last forever and that nothing will ever mean more to me than this… and all you’ve got is some money and a jersey with a number on the back.

Do not ever tell me that marching band isn’t important. It is everything to me, and it is everything to millions of other band geeks across the world.

When you refuse to support kids because they participate in the arts rather than athletics, you’re no better than the football player who takes lunch money from nerds.

To all of my fellow band geeks… keep marching, even if the world tells you it’s not worth it. It is. God, it is worth it, in ways no one else but you will ever understand. Continue your band career in college. Audition for a drum corps. Stay active in your high school band as an alumnus supporter. You are all my family. 

What I want to see in Infinity War

So, Civil War left the Avengers divided and with a lot of emotional baggage towards each other. And I get the feeling there will be a big scene where the Avengers vent their baggage against each other. And if that happens, you just know that Team Cap will be more than ready to use Tony’s PTSD, guilt and other personal baggage against him. And if that happens: who’s gonna stop Team Cap and make them see that Tony’s not all that bad?

Rhodes? He’ll try, certainly, but they won’t listen to Tony’s best friend, will they? Vision. He’ll consider himself above the conversation. That or be to passive to get any argument in. No, I want Peter, the new kid of the group, the one Team Cap don’t expect much from to leap in and destroy every argument they could possibly come up with.

I want to see Peter leap to his mentor/father figure’s defense cause you just know that Tony is far too guilt ridden to do it himself. I want to see Peter tell Team Cap that while they went rogue, Tony did everything he could to keep the Avengers intact while keeping the Accords intact as well. I want Peter to tell them that Tony flew to help Cap the second he realized he was wrong, while Steve threw Tony’s compromise out the window cause he put Wanda in house arrest. I want Peter to tell them that he thought the Avengers were better than this.

I want to see Peter show Team Cap that maybe, just maybe, Tony was far more reasonable than they gave him credit for, that Tony was going through a lot of shit, and that they have no right to look down on him for trying to do the right thing.

2

Captain Treville & Cardinal Richelieu (The Musketeers BBC):

“I’m familiar with the roles we play Captain. I am the grand deceiver and you are the bluff honest man of action…”

2

ash……..

i don’t think “i saw one once” quite covers what happened in the Orange Islands 

anonymous asked:

:( im so sad at the idea that shiro might not go back to piloting black

You know who else would be sad about that?? Shiro and Keith 

I mean, you can’t tell me that Keith wasn’t Shiro’s number one supporter, the one who was so insistent that Shiro was meant to be on the team. That, unlike Zarkon, he was Black’s true paladin. Shiro’s struggle with his own self-worth and his belief that he’s unfit to be Black’s paladin is inexorably tied to his own trauma. “Did you really think a monster like you could be a Voltron paladin?” Taunts and tortures like that stayed with him, etched their way into his skin.

That Keith reaffirms Shiro’s place on the team time and again is more than just you’re our leader it’s you’re a good person and you deserve to be here right now, you have every right to live. Because Shiro setting up Keith as his successor is also due to this belief that he won’t survive, that he never even had a chance. Keith always believes though, Keith never gives up on him. 

Because you know Shiro doesn’t want to step down, doesn’t want to be rejected by Black. He’s just terrified there’s no place for him. That he’s unworthy of leading Voltron and even if he was, his time is quickly coming to an end. Shiro was the only one who saw through Black’s eyes, who traveled with her through the astral plane. He treasures that bond in a way Keith doesn’t because his whole experience has been grief-stricken and heartbreaking–it’s painful for him to sit in Shiro’s seat. Whereas for Shiro, his relationship with Black was something that really helped with his healing–mentally, emotionally, physically. He likes being Black’s paladin and is so happy when she opens up to him, likes the idea of being a hero. And to have his lion shut him out–even if it’s really not him–is still devastating 

And Keith’s motivation for piloting Black was never between him and her. It was always for Shiro–to save Shiro, carry on with his last wish, to search for him, to continue onwards just as he’d want. 

As if the very idea of moving on, of replacing Shiro wasn’t absolutely horrifying to Keith, as if he wasn’t the one who always believed in Shiro’s return and vowed to bring him home. As if he didn’t mourn and grieve him every step of the way, begging both Black and his team not to force this burden on him. As if being chosen by Black didn’t make him stop and plead because no this just couldn’t be real, Shiro couldn’t just be gone for good 

I really do believe Keith’s bond with Shiro is a big part of what links him to Black, and this is reinforced by the fact that she first activates for him in both season 2 and season 3 when Keith expresses his desire to save or support Shiro. And you know what’s really interesting? The form their bayards take on is unique to the paladin, not the lion. Which is why Keith is still going Form sword! as Voltron’s head. Which means they can never do Blazing Sword again without Shiro. It requires both Shiro and Keith. Voltron’s most powerful attack, and it’s only born from the bond between these two paladins. This tells me that, someday, we’ll see them piloting this mech together again. 

Personally, I’d really like to believe that Shiro will return to piloting Black. You know what else I think gives this away? Keith promises Kuron that he’ll always be there to save Shiro “as many times as it takes.” And we know that Black has let him pilot in the past out of a desire to save Shiro. So one day, when Keith manages to save the real Shiro, I think he’ll take up his mantle as the black paladin again. Because Keith leading has always been out of a love for Shiro and deep respect for what he wants. As soon as Keith thinks Shiro is back, he cedes control of the lion easily enough. 

And going back to Blazing Sword again, that’s just not possible without both of them. Only Shiro can light that fire in Keith, and without him the spark’s just gone 

anonymous asked:

In which Steve is awed by the Strike Team Delta.

He’d had time to pour over the briefing from S.H.I.E.L.D. and only enough time to try and process in the quinjet on the way to what Coulson was calling a Helicarrier.  

He felt both awe and reticence when he watched the files on Stark. He was intelligent and reckless and made Steve think a little of himself and, much like he felt in his own skin, he wondered how much of Stark was a costume.

He felt guilt watching Banner.  Of all the advances made in the twenty-first century and still Erskine had been so beyond his time that no one had yet caught up to him.  The fascination with the serum – with what Steve represented – had led Banner to a prison made out of his own skin.  (He would wonder, later, how far off the trial serum had been in Banner’s case, I’m always angry, echoing in his head).

He felt dumbstruck at the possibility of Thor’s existence.  For all that he had seen in the life he’d had Before, he never thought – he’d seen the vast expanse of the cosmos, before Schmidt had disappeared into it, but he hadn’t thought that there’d be something else –someone else – out there.  It made him wonder if Schmidt was still out there, too.

He’d watched and re-watched the footage of Strike Team Delta – Natasha Romanoff and Clint Barton.  He was.  He was awed, and looked forward to meeting them most of all.  As far as the information from S.H.I.E.L.D. had noted, they had no enhancements.  They had pasts, sure, but they had no serum or otherworldly abilities or suits worth millions.  

They were human, made of blood and sweat and hours upon hours of practice and (to read their files) abuse and perseverance and they were as skilled and fearsome a team as any of the others recommended on Fury’s list.  

Steve thought of his time Before, he and Bucky, back alleys and bloody lips and scraped knuckles and how hard it was to survive and here were two people so dedicated, so skilled they may as well have been a two-person Commando unit.  Were, as far as Steve was concerned.  He was anxious to meet them.

Amortentia

Originally posted by sugutie

Words: 4,778.

Genre: Hogwarts!AU, fluff.

Summary: Ask any girl that thought Jeon Jungkook was handsome or any boy that thought Jungkook was a god and they would say he smelled like the purest form of any man with a harmonious smell of musk, cedar wood, and oak; like fresh rain that soaked in the middle of a mossy forest, spices, and black coffee – but they couldn’t have been more wrong.

A/N: I have no idea what made me want to write this but it was fun and I’m most definitely thinking of making an au for all the boys.

Keep reading

PLEASE APPRECIATE TENDOU SATORI.
this poor little red ribbon was bullied in elementary school. i just have this hc in my mind with poor kid tendou crying his eyes out in front of his parents after a volley practice because the other kids did not want him to play because they said he looked like a monster. he started playing volleyball because blocking one of his bullies’ spike made him feel good and he wanted to feel that same satisfaction over and over again, but you can clearly see from both the anime and the manga that even if he was good at it, he still struggled to make friends. teammates still talked behind his back.
that was so real. like, kids are adorable and all, but they can also be so mean. and really, being good at something doesn’t mean you’ll be 100% accepted.
i have this other hc in my head with tendou playing volleyball 24/7 after he got complimented by someone. and this other one with tendou seeing wakatoshi and thinking “wow” and despite being afraid of being rejected still tried to talk to wakatoshi. at first he thought it was just a one way conversation because waka’s not really looking at him as he’s talking, so tendou stops, but then after a second waka just goes, “and then?” and that’s like one of the most precious memories of tendou satori’s high school life. but enough of that, tendou’s such a bittersweet character, okay? he takes pride in his team, he 100% supports them, he compliments goshiki on his haircut AND WE CAN ALL GUESS WHY. and then after losing against karasuno he goes and says those words that broke us all. i think his “farewell my paradise” isn’t just about him quitting volleyball. it’s more than that, it’s volleyball played with his team, with shiratorizawa. JUST. JUST APPRECIATE TENDOU SATORI OKAY? HE MAY BE TALL AND HIS RED HAIR MAY LOOK FIERCE BUT THIS BOY NEEDS TO BE PROTECTED AT ALL COST. don’t let him quit volleyball furudate sensei. let him break more spikers’ hearts.

  • Maui: the ocean says you're a nerd
  • Moana: I'm not surprised
In These Small Hours (A Bitty MiniFic)

It doesn’t really hit Bitty until he’s sitting in his room at the Haus, staring at the boxes already half-full with his belongings.

His ears are ringing in the silence that surrounds him now, so different from the constant congratulations and yelling from the team. He’s still got his suit on, bowtie still crisp, hair still set. Around him, distantly, he hears the various noises that are normal in the Haus- boards creaking, water running, Netflix coming from Holster’s laptop upstairs.

There is a part of Bitty that is trying to burn all of this deeply into his mind so he can never forget any of it. He bends over to untie his dress shoes and he starts to take stock of the night.

First, he had voted for Chowder for Captain.
Second, the team did not agree with him.
Third, they had voted for him. Bitty.
Fourth, they all had voted for him.

Just the thought of it now, hours after the banquet, stirred up a flurry of emotions within him.

He was surprised, and delighted, and confused, and so, so happy.

But at the same time, he was so, so scared.

There was once, and exactly once, that Bitty had imagined himself the Captain of the team. It had been in a quiet moment shared with Jack- a September night spent on the balcony of his apartment with coffee. They were familiar but still so new to eachother then, prone to spontaneous conversation that revealed themselves to the other.

“Being Captain last year, I think that was the best thing that could have happened to me.” Jack had said, his thumb stroking over Bitty’s fingers. “I was Captain junior year, yeah, but…last year taught me so much.”

Bitty was quiet, always so taken away by the careful gravity Jack put behind his words sometimes.

“Being Captain of that team, of you guys, it was more than just calling plays and leading workouts. You guys let me grow and learn. You let me realize how much I love all that hockey is. Not just the ice time, or the goals, or anything like that.”

Jack’s quietly spoken speech sunk into Bitty, and later when the were curled around eachother in bed, Bitty thought about it on the cusp of falling asleep.

Imagine me, he thought, imagine me as Captian. Imagine people looking to me like they did to Jack. Imagine finally feeling at place and included.

Now, with his suit half off and his phone giving him notifications for endless congratulations pouring in from several sources, Bitty tried to grasp the idea that his late night half-formed fantasy wasn’t so silly at all.

Bitty pulled on the falconers shirt that was slung across the back of his desk chair and then settled into bed.

He held his phone on his chest, thumb hovering over the team group chat. There were so many messages that Bitty can vaguely remembering skimming in-between all of the in-person celebrations.

He scanned over them again, feeling his chest swell with each positive message.

It struck him, then. Everything all at once- the captaincy, the boys, the respect, and something more that poured into him and settled a worry he had held close to his chest for too long.

Bitty loved hockey.
Now he knew that hockey loved him, too.