the thing on their floor

FYI - if you call Zayn trash, you don’t get to have an opinion on Ziam. 

If you treat Liam like he’s there for your ship only, an idiot and homophobe except when it suits you don’t get to have an opinion on Ziam. 

I mean nice of you to acknowledge that Ziam in your mind was once a thing, but you don’t get to do this and use Bedroom Floor and it’s lyrics in an attempt to be derogatory against Zayn.

It’s not clever and it’s so obvious.  Obviously, its a free country and you can, in reality, say what you want but honestly, you ain’t slick. 

I Need You

Hi!!! Here’s part 4 of ‘Mistake’ I apologize it took so long but the hurricanes fucked up my life and have been working nonstop so couldn’t really write but! Here it is!

Also yes I decided to give Lance a happy ending (srry if you wanted some hardcore Langst but this poor blue bean needs some happiness man!). Hope you all like this!!! Thank you again for the support!!! ^^


Coran took a deep breath before walking to the door and opening it more with the touch pad before slipping in. He closed the door behind himself, without locking it, preparing himself to face the room. When he did turn around his heart plummeted to his stomach. The room was completely trashed. Lance had somehow figured how to deactivate the day and night cycle and it was stuck on utter darkness, there was a mess of blankets and pillows on the floor and things where all scattered across the room. What took Coran’s attention the most was the mess of small tablets scattered near the wall opposite to the bed.

The Altean pain medications.

When he looked at Lance his heart shattered completely. He was shirtless standing beside the blue lion with his hand on her head softly playing with her ears and not meeting his eyes. The bright and happy glow that usually surrounded the blue paladin was replaced by a dark somber aura. His once healthy appearance was replaced by a brown mess of hairs sticking in every single direction, his blue eyes were swollen and puffy with bags under them, cheeks marked with tear tracks, lips chapped and wounded, and way skinnier than last time Coran saw him. His eyes drifted to the clawing marks on the blue paladin’s chest that seemed to have already healed leaving a redish scar. Coran would never have expected to see him so destroyed in the time he has known the younger. Tears where flooding Lance’s eyes the longer they stood there and Coran couldn’t hold back anymore. In long strides he engulfed the boy into a hug.

“My boy. Look at you.” He whispered, tightening the hug when a sob broke out from Lance’s throat.

Lance wrapped his arms around Coran and gripped into the back of his shirt, burying his face into the older man’s chest like how he used to do with his papa. There, in the welcoming warmth of Coran, Lance sobbed and wailed, Blue whinning and pressing herself into Lance’s leg so her cub knew that she was there with him.

“I-I am s-so sorry” Lance sobbed, voice muffled because of Coran’s chest. Coran’s hugs were so similar to his papa’s. They made Lance feel safe, he felt like hell could break loose and he would still be safe. They made him feel as if he actually belonged somewhere.

Coran sighed softly caressing his shaking back. “No, you have nothing to apologize for, my boy” He kept caressing Lance’s back and hair trying to bring comfort to him. Coran looked over to the helmet that was on Lance’s bed before carefully walking to it and carefully pushing Lance to sit on the bed. He got dragged down to sit as well by Lance who wouldn’t let go of him, face still against his chest and arms wrapped tightly around him as if he was scared of Coran disappearing. Coran took the helmet to deactivate the comm so they could have privacy before Lance’s tanned fingers wrapped around his wrist preventing him from doing so.

“T-Tell ‘Llura to come in” Lance whispered against Coran’s chest. Coran nodded his head picking up the helmet.

“Princess Allura, Lance wants you to come in” he said into the comm before deactivating it and putting it back on the bed. Not even a second later the door of the room swooshed open, allowing Allura to run inside before it closed again.

Allura looked around the room before her eyes landed on Lance. She gasped covering her mouth before rushing to them and wrapping her arms around Lance’s waist.

“I’m so so sorry Lance. How could I let this go this far. I should’ve stopped this before it happened, I’m so sorry” Allura said as Lance turned a little to wrap his arm around her but not letting go of Coran. “I failed to protect you, I-” Lance shook his head pulling his face from Coran’s chest sniffing.

“Allura, you have nothing to apologize for. It’s all my fault, if only I was better, If only I was smart, if only I wasn’t a fucking disgrace at everything I do, maybe I wouldn’t have lost so much. I’m just a monster, a mistake, a-a failure” Lance sobbed, covering his face with his hands.“no one needs me, I’m just a waste of space. I-I” Lance choked on a sob. Blue growled lowly and hopped on the bed. She walked behind Lance and laid down behind him while licking his cheek as he leaned back to rest his body against her. “No one really needs me” he whispered sniffing.

“I need you Lance” Lance froze when those words reached his ears. Had he heard right? Had Coran just said that? No… it can’t be…

Allura was just as shocked as Lance was. Coran was never one to say things like these. Coran was more of the cheerful type that would let you know how much you mean in a funny remark. These words were filled with so much emotion and said so softly yet sadly. Blue eyes met purple eyes as Coran smiled a sad smile, seeing how Lance opened and closed his mouth as if trying to get his body to express his thoughts but the shock preventing him to do that.

“W-what?” Whispered Lance, as Coran sighed but didn’t pull away from the younger boy in his arms. Coran knew how off character he was acting. He hated to show vulnerability. Ever since he grew out of puberty, he would hide vulnerability at all costs. But… now… this was Lance. This was Lance… the blue paladin of Voltron… he needed to know just how much he meant.

Coran took a shaky breath trying to organize his thoughts as they were all over the place. He gulped before looking at Lance"I have lived for more that six hundred years, my boy. I have seen so much and experienced so much. I had a family…. A lovely wife with a lovely child. Well…“ he paused as a bitter chuckle left his mouth “not exactly child since he was already a fine adult… When I woke up from the Cryosleep and found out that all of Altea was gone…” he trailed off looking into the distance with a pained look. As if he was reliving that moment all over again. Lance hated that look on the older man. The way his uptight posture fell, his shoulders slumped, his eyes wet and distant, it didn’t suit Coran at all. He kept shut as Coran continued on"how that felt….The world I knew…the world I grew up in…the world I loved … i-it was just…gone…Along with my family, my son, my wife. It was so…difficult to not be able to mourn my loss because of the war.“

Lance gulped tightening his hug on Coran as the older man paused to try and regain himself. He started to rub Coran’s back, trying to give the older man the very much needed comfort. Coran leaned into the hug sighing. Beside them was Allura who just didn’t know what to do. She understood what Coran meant, she herself having met Coran’s family before. She knew what kind of pain he felt and honestly couldn’t help but feel as if she had neglected his feeling because of her own.

” I know how you feel. Yes my knowledge has been very useful, but its not at the same time as its ten thousand years old. That is until you neared me and told me how grateful you were for all I knew… when you told me you wanted to know more about how things were in my time…“ He looked down at Lance and smiled” I had already lost all hope but your way of addressing things… your happiness, your kindness, how you went to me looking for advice, the jokes we made… the times we shared… you showing me your world and allowing me to show you the one I lost… It gave me hope that maybe all I knew was gone but that I was not alone, because I had you Lance. I have come to love you as much as I loved my son. Just like sons need their fathers’ support, their fathers need their son’s. You gave me that support Lance.“ Lance gasped as a small drop landed on his left cheek. Coran sighed as small tears escaped his eyes.” I need your kindess Lance, I need your reassurances, I need my son Lance. Earth may not have valued you but I do. You are my son, and I will look after you.“ Coran smiled hugging Lance to his chest.

Lance sniffed and smiled, a warmth coursing through his body and making his tense muscles relax completely for the first time in days. He closed his eyes with a smile before a tap to his forehead startled him enough to make him jump slightly. Allura grinned at him through tears.

"And don’t think you will get free from me! You are my brother! They might not see the amazing person you are, but we do, and we are more than happy to accept you with us” Allura added while hugging him tightly. She had already gotten past the shock of Coran crying as tears rolled down her own eyes as well.“Altean or not you are part of us now.”

“Thank you” whispered Lance as he smiled and closed his eyes hugging the two altean closer to himself. He felt so loved, so accepted. He had a family again, he had a father again, he had a sister that looked after him. He may not look like them, but now he knew that he was a part of them.

“See? Everything is going to be alright my cub” Blue’s comforting voice flooded through him. Finally, the asphyxiating pressure that was on his chest slowly released him and he felt like he could breathe again. Now he only had to fix things up with Hunk which didn’t scare him as much as it did in the beginning. Sure loosing Hunk will scar him for life, but now he knew that if Hunk decided to get rid of him that he had people that would support him through the pain.

Father Forgets by W. Livingston Larned

Listen son; I am saying this as you lie asleep, on little paw crumpled under your cheek and the blond curls stickily wet on your damp forehead.  I have stolen to your room alone. Just a few minutes ago, as I sat reading my paper in the library, a stifling wave of remorse swept over me. Guiltily I came to your bedside.

There are things I was thinking, son: I had been cross to you. I scolded you as you were dressing for school because you gave your face a mere dab with a towel. I took you to task for not cleaning your shoes. I called you out angrily when you threw some of your things on the floor.

At breakfast I found fault, too. You spilled things. You gulped down your food. You put your elbows on the table. You spread butter too thick on your bread. And as you started off to play and I made for my train, you turned and waved a hand and called, “Goodbye, Daddy!” and I frowned, and said in reply, “Hold your shoulders back!”

Then it began all over again in the late afternoon. As I came up the road I spied you, down on your knees, playing marbles. There were holes in your stockings. I humiliated you before your boyfriends by marching you ahead of me to the house. Stockings were expensive-and if you had to buy them you would be more careful! Imagine that, son, from a father!

Do you remember, later, when I was reading in the library, how you can in timidly, with a sort of hurt look in your eyes? When I glanced up over my paper, impatient at your interruption, you hesitated at the door. “What is it you want?” I snapped.

You said nothing, but ran across in one tempestuous plunge, and threw your arms around my neck and kissed me, and your small arms tightened with an affection that God had set blooming in your heart and which even neglect could not wither. And then you were gone, pattering up the stairs.

Well, son, it was shortly afterwards that my paper slipped form my hands and a terrible sickening fear came over me. What has habit been doing to me? The habit of finding fault, of reprimanding- this was my reward to you for being a boy. It was not that I did not love you; it was that I expected too much of youth. I was measuring you by the yardstick of my own years.

And there was so much that was good and fine and true in your character. The little heart of you was as big as the dawn itself over the wide hills. This was shown by your spontaneous impulse to rush in and kiss me good night. Nothing else matters tonight, son. I have come to your bedside in the darkness, and I have knelt there, ashamed!

It is a feeble atonement; I know you would not understand these things if I told them to you during your waking hours. But tomorrow I will be a real daddy! I will chum with you, and suffer when you suffer, and laugh when you laugh. I will bite my tongue when impatient words come out. I will keep saying as if it were a ritual: “He is nothing but a boy-a little boy!”

I am afraid I have visualized you as a man. Yet as I see you now, son, crumpled and weary in your cot, I see that you are still a baby. Yesterday you were in your mother’s arms, your head on her shoulder. I have asked too much, too much.

Have you ever felt like this? Do we place too much pressure on our kids to behave like little adults? Perhaps. Maybe we just need to read this every now and again, to remind ourselves that these little children are just that; little children.

( @ninjacat1515 )

Faena hobbles down the path, coming back from the well with a fresh bucket of water, the setting sun behind her. She was just finishing up her chores at the mansion for the day. The last thing she needed to do was mop the kitchen floor. Then, she could finally rest for a little while. At least until one of the Salazars needed something.

The half nightelf sets the bucket down as she approaches the door, holding it open with a foot as she grabs the bucket back up, then going inside and shutting it behind her. Faena then goes into the kitchen, picking up the mop she had put in the room beforehand, then dipping it into the bucket and starting to clean the floor. She worked quietly, just focused on getting the task at hand done so she could relax.

But even in her silence, she didn’t realize that someone was watching her….


TBH if someone was making me live in some strange isolated place for an indefinite period of time…gotta take the essentials.


time to dance // panic! at the disco

so you are telling me that daniel has a mature, sleek, fairly large, moon-themed bedroom and phil is stuck in a closet sized space with zero new fixtures and very little decoration that goes beyond his familiar internet persona?? idk .. sounds fake.

Here, in case I haven’t quite driven the point home:

Oh, the things I can’t say to you because I’m your superior…
—  Ravenclaw, barely holding back from reaming a coworker.