poor-bbyz

i will NEVER get over this beauty of an episode.

max’s desperate plea to make ethan come to the hospital killed me

dylan trying his fuckin hardest to save cal’s life but failing killed me

elle stroking cal’s hair killed me

the sadness on everyones face killed me

everyone crowded near resus looking at ethan killed me

ethan ignoring everyone killed me

connie telling charlie to ‘go with him’ because she knew he needed someone and that someone was charlie killed me

ethan saying cals name desperately as if he expects hes still alive and its just a joke killed me

ethans face crumpling when cal doesnt reply killed me

ethan crying over cals body whilst saying ‘no’ over and over again killed me

the tears in charlies eyes killed me

everything in that episode killed me

anonymous asked:

Shiro and lance FIC where LANCE is really depressed and doesn't want to leave bed and shiro visits him out of concern and shiro is praising him and using nicknames like "sweetheart" and trying to make lance feel like he belongs.

They’d been worrying for a while now. Ever since Lance’s humorous commentary of their adventures seemed to quiet down and he started to blend more and more into the background, fading out like an old photograph until he was barely noticeable as part of their team.
He still piloted the blue lion and took part in their training, his unbreakable sense of duty fighting hard against whatever it was that sucked the spirit out of him a little more each passing day.

He stopped coming to any group activities that weren’t connected to their responsibilities as paladins, didn’t meet up to tinker with Hunk or watch Pidge break down alien technology.
He stopped his stargazing on the bridge during slow, quiet nights and seemed to let himself go regarding his usually rigorous self care routines, skin drying and starting to break out, hair greasy and tangled. He didn’t seem to care or even notice.
Shiro watched all of it unfold with a sense of unease but it was only when Lance stopped coming to meals that he decided to intervene. He wasn’t sure how, only that someone needed to do something.

When another morning came and went without Lance appearing in the kitchen for breakfast Shiro made his way over to the blue paladin’s room, carefully knocking against the door.
“Lance?” No answer. “Lance, I know you’re in there. You haven’t come out for two days.”
There was a quiet ruffle of fabric but aside from that no reaction. Shiro frowned, debating to turn around and give Lance more space. But he’d been doing that for a while and it had only gotten worse.
“Lance, I’m coming in”, he said, voice sounding firmer and more assured than he felt, but he still pressed a few buttons and watched the door glide open with a nearly inaudible hissing sound.

The room was stuffy and an absolute mess, clothes, old towels and dirty dishes littering the floor, Lance’s helmet thrown into a corner and the rest of his armour laying in a crinkled pile next to the bed. Lance himself seemed to be buried under the covers, a small pile of blankets and unruly hair that seemed way too small on the mattress.
Shiro tried to shove down the sense of horror creeping up into his chest. Whatever it was he’d expected, it wasn’t this.

“Lance?”, he tried again and this time his voice wasn’t as firm anymore. The blanket pile shifted a little.
“Go away”, it said, muffled and incredibly tired. Shiro felt a deep sadness squeeze around his heart. He should have done something way sooner. Maybe it wouldn’t have come to this if he’d only…
No. This was the situation now and he’d find a way to deal with it. He always did.

“Sorry but I can’t do that”, he said, voice soft and careful as he sat down on the edge of the bed. He could smell sweat and grime and had to fight hard not to grimace. “We’re very worried about you. You haven’t been yourself for a while.”
Under the covers Lance grunted, a dry, sarcastic noise.
“'f course I haven’t been … fuck, just leave me alone.”
“No”, Shiro insisted, still soft and careful, reaching out with one hand to brush it against the blankets where he supposed Lance’s shoulder must be. “I think you need help and I’m here to do anything I can to make sure you’ll get better soon.”

The pile twitched and Lance’s head emergesd sucking in deep gulps of air as he frowned up at Shiro. He looked even worse than before, deep shadows under his eyes and cheeks already hollowed a bit.
“There’s nothing…”, he started, then cut himself off, voice thick with disuse. “Unless you can pull my meds out of your ass there’s nothing you can do.”
He sounded angry and helpless and close to crying and at first Shiro was at a loss for words. Then he managed to swallow down his pity. Lance didn’t need that. Nor did he deserve it. Lance was strong and capable but he also seemed to have problems that ran deeper than expected and needed to be treated with respect and understanding, not to be pitied.

“Meds?”, Shiro asked because he’d never seen Lance take any pills or need shots or anything the like. “What kind of … medication do you need?”
Lance scoffed again but at least he sat up slowly instead of fleeing under the covers.
“The kind that makes me not suck at life”, he spat, sounding incredibly bitter and that was when it finally clicked. Took Shiro long enough.

“You mean antidepressants?”, he asked and could have slapped himself for not noticing it sooner. The signs had all been there but with everything else going on around them … no. There was no excuse for not noticing his team mates suffering. But Shiro would take care of that package of additional guilt later.
Lance swallowed and gnawed on his lip and then, finally, nodded.
“I ran out … a while ago”, he began, haltingly, his shoulders drooping like he was ashamed. “I thought I could manage. I mean I learned all that stuff in th- … in therapy.” It obviously pained him to even say it and Shiro wanted to hug him close. “Like with the … with the routines and the … going up to people and … but it wasn’t … enough and I … I just really … really shouldn’t be here.” He sounded like he was about to cry but the tears were never coming and Shiro swallowed before beginning to speak.

“That’s nonsense”, he said, unsure how to handle this but knowing that he had to. “You’re an incredible pilot and the team needs you. We couldn’t have done any of the things we did without you. And just because you need medication to be healthy that doesn’t make you any less worthy to be a paladin. You wouldn’t tell a diabetic to stop his medication and try routines and talking to people if he wants insulin, would you?”
Lance frowned, then shook his head.
“And you wouldn’t say Pidge is less worthy of being a paladin just because they need glasses to see as well as we do, would you?”
Another frown, this time even deeper:
“Of course not!”, he protested and Shiro smiled softly.

“Then why are you any different? Don’t be too hard on yourself. It’s okay to need some help in life. We’re all here to support you.”
Lance didn’t react for a while. Then he shrugged, biting his lip again.
“Do you still have the package your meds came in?”
It takes a while for Lance to react to the question but then he nods and moves to the other side of the mattress, reaching under it and pulling out a flat and slightly crinkled piece of carton that he handed over. Shiro didn’t know much about antidepressants but maybe they could do something with that.

“Very good”, he nodded and reached out to pat Lance’s tousled hair. The other man sighed softly, head bowing for more, obviously starved for any kind of affection.
“How about you take a shower now? I know you don’t feel like it but it’s time we do something about all of this, alright? Then we can talk to the princess. I’m sure there’s a way to get your medication or something similar. We all want you to be your best self again.”

Lance didn’t say anything and kept biting his lip instead. But Shiro counted it as a win when he finally crawled out of bed after a while.



[If you enjoyed this story, please consider buying me a coffee <3]

anonymous asked:

If you're still doing requests, how about Superbat with Bruce showing up casually to the daily planet? And Clark not knowing about it until he hears Bruce's heartbeat? Idk. I just love your art-ESPECIALLY Clark omg

THANK YOU SO MUCH! I’m SOOO glad you like it! Here it is!

Pairing: Iwaizumi/Oikawa

There was only one reason for Iwaizumi to meet Kuroo Tetsurou 75% naked in his living room.

Only one and everybody knew that reason.

“Hey.”

Kuroo grinned, flashing his annoyingly white and perfect teeth. Considering the only thing keeping him decent was a pair of black boxers, Kuroo was doing a good job keeping his composure. He crossed his arms and leaned against the wall, one ankle over the other, acting as if him being there was perfectly reasonable. 

This was the last thing Iwaizumi had expected when coming back from picking up dinner that he ended up throwing out entirely untouched later.

“What’s up, Iwaizumi?”

“Hey.”

This seemed to be Kuroo Tetsurou’s greeting of choice, Iwaizumi noted dryly as he downed his shot right when Kuroo slid into the booth across from him.

“What’s up, Iwaizumi?”

My foot in your ass.

Nothing,” Iwaizumi answered. He’d been actively avoiding both Kuroo and Oikawa since that day. Kuroo was easy; Iwaizumi hardly ever saw him, but given that he was living with Oikawa, avoiding him was harder. 

Whenever he’d come home and see Kuroo’s shoes by the front door, he’d turn around and leave immediately (though, admittedly, sometimes kicking those stupids shoes.) He realized it was immature. He realized he was being petty and passive aggressive, but he didn’t care. Kuroo was a good friend–one of the best, really–and would never purposely do anything to upset Iwaizumi.

Iwaizumi’s attention was drawn to the bar at a sudden peal of laughter, catching sight of Oikawa being a little too flirty with the bartender. Iwaizumi had given up reprimanding him about it, realizing Oikawa had a point when saying that it was common practice. Also, he made sure to add, Iwaizumi had saved a ton of money on drinks with Oikawa’s flirting.

That was something he couldn’t argue.

He didn’t realize his eyes were narrowed until he caught Kuroo staring at him, sharp eyes glinting. Barely masking his flinch, Iwaizumi took a sip of his beer. “How’s your… thing… going?”

Unlike Oikawa, Iwaizumi had not even begun to master the art of casual cover-up conversation.

“Iwaizumi,” Kuroo started slowly, leaning back and draping one arm across the back of the booth, “…you’re cool with this, right?” he asked, tilting his head, looking so annoyingly nonchalant that Iwaizumi wanted to punch him.

Iwaizumi, having never been a great liar, spat out “of course” a lot more harshly than he intended. An apology sat at the tip of his tongue but he swallowed it and focused on a stain on the table instead.

Because he definitely wasn’t fine with his friend hooking up with the childhood friend he’d been in love with for years. It wasn’t even Kuroo’s fault; Iwaizumi hadn’t told anybody about how he felt, hoping that would make his feelings go away. But instead of his feelings for Oikawa going away, Iwaizumi had now developed incredibly strong feelings of the unpleasant kind towards Kuroo Tetsurou. 

He heard Kuroo humming, looked up just in time to hear ‘right’ said in such a slow way in a particular tone with a cunning smirk that Iwaizumi felt his stomach drop straight to the ground. But before he could try to deny what Kuroo obviously just figured out, Oikawa slid into the booth next to Iwaizumi, the feeling of their thighs touching setting his skin on fire and announcement to get super drunk lighting an urge to punch him. 

The last thing Iwaizumi remembered was Kuroo smirking, though there were hazy instances of Kuroo leaving the two of them alone more often than usual and definitely one time where Kuroo unabashedly shoved Oikawa right into Iwaizumi, rum sloshing over both of them.

Iwaizumi woke up the next morning with Oikawa’s head on his chest, body sprawled out and arm over his stomach as they laid in Iwaizumi’s bed together. Managing a small laugh, Iwaizumi rubbed his eyes and purposely shifted, causing Oikawa to jolt awake. He whined and Iwaizumi mumbled ‘your head is heavy as fuck’ but didn’t protest when Oikawa placed his head just as it had been. 

Iwaizumi relished in being so close to him for a few moments before allowing reality to twist his gut, starting to feel around the nightstand for his phone. “Shouldn’t you be with Kuroo?” Iwaizumi managed to ask without too much bite.

“Nn… Tetsu-chan dumped me,” Oikawa mumbled, snuggling closer to Iwaizumi. “Besides, Iwa-chan’s so much closer. His bedroom’s in the same apartment as mine.”

Iwaizumi’s breath caught in his throat and Oikawa apparently noticed, as he tapped his chest lightly. “Breathe, Iwa-chan,” he chirped, eyes still closed.

“…Why?” he asked and then took a breath.

“Said somebody would get hurt… actually, he said somebody was getting hurt. Tetsu-chan must’ve been drunk… forgot his verb tenses…”

Oikawa yawned and soon he was asleep again. Absentmindedly threading his fingers through Oikawa’s hair for a bit, Iwaizumi reached for his phone and scrolled down to his chat with Kuroo, realizing he hadn’t sent any texts since two days before finding him nearly naked in his apartment.

To: Kuroo Tetsurou
thanks

A few moments later and a laugh that woke Oikawa up, causing a series of whines that helped Iwaizumi realize he was definitely hungover:

From: Kuroo Tetsurou
course. least i could do, you poor bastard