Unpopular Voltron opinion, with meta to back it up.
I don’t think the big Keith and Lance scene in episode 6 was meant to be seen as having gone well, or for things to be getting back on track in regards to Lance’s doubts. I’m actually pretty sure the conversation unintentionally made things with Lance even worse.
Just because Keith and Lance shared a scene alone together, without any fighting or outward disagreements, does NOT mean it went well. I know everyone who is a Klance shipper wants that to be the case, but the whole “5 feet apart” jokes and logic with their ship shouldn’t suddenly change the emotional tone that is ACTUALLY present here.
Do not get me wrong, it is clear that both of them wanted this talk to go well without any confrontation, and to talk with a level head and with honesty. They have both grown as people to realize this. It doesn’t mean there wasn’t a major miscommunication here.
At this point I am so disappointed with the voltron fandom
Guys, we’re so lucky you don’t have an idea
There’s other fandoms that are on hiatus for YEARS
We just get an entire season in one day and some of us are still whining because of shipping. Like ARE YOU SERIOUS?
-The galra!Keith theory was confirmed
-Shiro is missing
-Voltron was built by Alfor AND Zarcon as an alliance
-There’s a prince Lotor, who we don’t know is less or more dangerous than Zarcon
-Haggar is Altean or part Altean
-Matt is alive
“in the end, i think it’s him who lost,” she sighed after a few minutes of silence had passed.
he turned to look at her, “what do you mean?”
“well… he lost a girl who could’ve given him the whole world and all the stars if he asked. he lost a girl who would’ve known him better than he knew himself. he lost a girl who, i’m pretty damn sure, would’ve loved him in ways he couldn’t even imagine. but he was too blind to see that… so now she’s going to give it to someone who deserves it while he’ll be left wondering why he ever let her go.”
do u ever just sit there and think about the fact that Rey is the one who marked Kylo with that scar and that is effectively saying, “YOU’RE MINE” [in the world of Fantasy]?
and she also buried his saber in the snow – like, “ur sword [read: allegiance] belongs to ME.”
do u ever just sit there and think about the fact that these two enemies had the most intimate moments of any SW enemies we’ve ever seen? Even more so than Obi-Wan and Anakin? Like intimate really is the word to use here [and for antis who need dictionaries, please look up the word intimate before you freak out; it doesn’t mean what you think it means].
do u ever think about how they’re being advertised together, how they’ve been confirmed filming for WEEKS together for the Ahch-To set, how the databank was updated to say shit like, “mysterious connection” and JJ said, “interesting relationship,” and Rian said, “two halves of the dark and the light,” and I just.
When a blind woman was named Inquisitor, none of her inner circle expected the task before her to be easy. Neither did any of them expect her to face it alone. Each of them has their own task, a duty they have assigned themselves to make Elera Lavellan’s life just a little easier, a role they carry out with stubborn dedication. None of them say it, but they all know that every one of them would rather die than see someone else take their place.
Solas walks with her in the Fade, drawing her into his memories, conjuring up images of the places they’ve been. Only her body is blind, and in the Fade, she can see the echoes he creates for her. They stroll the ramparts of Skyhold together, a smile flickering around her mouth as she looks out on the rolling mountains, and he helps her memorise every staircase and passageway so that she might navigate them more easily in her sightless waking world. He shows her the Emerald Graves, so that she can stand beneath the trees and gaze at the million different shades of green the sunlight creates as it falls through the leaves. He shows her, despite his scorn, the Dalish camp they visited in the Exalted Plains, so that she can remember her own clan and feel, for a time, at home. They walk the paths of his memories together, he her hahren, and she, a student and friend he is proud to teach.
Varric does what an author does best - he puts the world around them into words. When they reach the top of a slope and let out gasps of awe at a view that Elera can’t see, he steps up to describe it to her, painting every detail with the best words he can think of until she smiles and whispers, I can picture it. He does the same with the people they meet, telling her everything from the colour of their hair to how high she has to look to meet their eyes. Leave it to the others to do the basics, helping her to make it through the world. Varric’s duty is to make that world beautiful.
Sera is the one who climbs. Up the piles of rocks, balancing on beams and narrow ledges, clambering onto rooftops and jumping between gaps. She hates those creepy shards, but Elera says they’re important, and Sera’s damned if she’s letting a blind woman go hauling herself up those frigging rock piles to reach them. Elera would do it if someone else didn’t, stupid stubborn woman, and Sera doesn’t want to see her fall and get herself killed. Because even though she’s an elf, an elfy elf, a really elfy elf who wants those pissing elfy shards to open that elfy temple… somehow, they ended up as friends. Real good friends. And Sera was never one to let her friends get hurt.
Vivienne picks out her wardrobe, not only for all those soirees and balls that the Inquisitor is obliged to make an appearance at, but for day to day wear. Just because practicality is Elera’s greatest concern - finding something with few buttons she needs to fumble at and few fastenings to struggle with - doesn’t mean she should be forced to sacrifice fashion. Vivienne seeks out fine silk and velvet for her, fabrics that a Dalish elf could never have heard of or touched before. She finds tunics in rich turquoise to match her vallaslin, and, for special occasions, a ballgown in pale silvery-blue, so unearthly against her pale skin that she almost seems to be wearing moonlight.
Dorian reads to her. It starts with him making some remark about a book on spirit magic he’s been browsing through. That sounds interesting, she says, could you read that passage to me? And before long it’s a tradition. She comes to the library, he finds a book, they sit in chairs facing each other and Dorian reads. At first it’s mostly tomes on magical theory, but soon, he’s narrating a new chapter of Hard In Hightown every evening, and a little circle gathers around them to listen, all of them catching their breath in unison over the dramatic parts and groaning whenever Varric ends things with yet another cliffhanger.
Cassandra has always been at home on the battlefield, and right from the start, she appoints herself the task of making sure that Elera can feel at home there too. Two rage demons, approaching from the right, and three wraiths, she roars, as the rift splits open and pours the Fade’s denizens forward. One Red Templar in heavy armour, one archer. Just the simplest things, the things that tell Elera where to stand and what spell to use. There’s nothing she can do to make the bellowing of demons and the clashing of weapons less chaotic - but she can try to bring some kind of order out of the chaos. That’s what she does best, after all.
Bull takes it upon himself to make sure she can indulge in all the things the others won’t let her. Honestly, they treat her like she’s made of glass sometimes, and he knows it infuriates her, knows that she doesn’t want to be coddled. She’s blind, not a child. So he’s the one who makes sure she drops into the Herald’s Rest like all the others, the one who buys her a drink and lets her vent. She rarely has more than one or two, but all the same, he walks with her back to her room afterwards. Leaders have as much right to let themselves go as anyone from time to time. The fact that this leader can’t see doesn’t make the damnedest bit of difference to that.
Cole helps. He appears from thin air to guide her up staircases and through passageways when she needs it - but only when she needs it, because he knows she wants to stand alone as much as she can. And since she can’t see the curl of another man’s lip or the twitch of his brow while she speaks to him, Cole reads people for her, telling her the things she can’t pick up from their words and their tone. To him, her lack of eyesight means nothing. She’s a person, like all the others, and her thoughts are the same as everyone else’s.
And Blackwall stands beside her. Where he’s meant to be. He’s the shield between her and everything that could ever possibly hurt her, the hand that flashes out to catch her when she stumbles and the weapon that cuts down the enemy who dared to get close. He’s the arm she rests her hand on as they go about their travels, the voice that tells her the path’s getting steeper or take it slow, there’s a sharp drop to the right. At first it’s an obligation, the duty of a soldier who’s seen men suffer a thousand different wounds from war, losing eyesight and limbs and sanity and Maker knows what else. He knows how to help someone whose body isn’t quite whole.
But it becomes more than that, so much more. She is so strong, so capable, so determined to face all the trials thrown at her by a world she can’t see - but she can’t protect herself from everything. Just as he has needed her, needed her calm kindness and her dauntless faith in him, so she needs him to be her first and last line of defence. He knows, as the rest don’t (all right, Cole probably does, but all the normal rest don’t) that the one thing Elera Lavellan fears is oblivion. Being lost and alone with nothing to guide her.
She won’t have to face oblivion while he’s still breathing. She will always be able to reach out for him and find him there, to hear him tell her, I’m here, my lady. To which she responds with a smile and a murmur - I know, vhenan. Thank you.
She is his fortress, he is her shield, and nothing in the world can touch them.
Summary: In which Bucky falls in love with you, a writer.
Pairing: Bucky x Reader
Word Count: 1,531
When Bucky first met you, he didn’t know you were a writer. All he knew was that your coffee was scorching hot when it toppled over and spilled all over the front of his shirt. Your words were rushed as you fumbled over an apology and dug around your canvas bag for something he couldn’t see.
Bucky would learn minutes later that you were on a quest for crumpled up napkins to clean up the mess you’d made. He didn’t have the gall to tell you that a napkin was pointless. There was no way to clean up the mess he was after seeing you. Because, as silly as it sounds, he knew from the moment that you collided with him that he’d willingly withstand the heat of a thousand freshly brewed cups of coffee for another second with you.
I would take back my words and my deeds at the gate. You did what only a true friend would do. Forgive me. I was too blind to see it. I am so sorry… that I led you into such peril. – No, I’m-I’m glad to have shared in your perils, Thorin. Each and every one of them. It is far more than any Baggins deserves.
Warnings: SMUT ASF. Also mentions of Domestic Abuse
Request by: @talia-grace-daniels Imagine based on the song Feelings by Maroon 5 :) Also Incorporated @delish-duck ‘s request for the reader having an abusive boyfriend and Tom being protective
Word Count: 3,500
A/N: People fr need to stop coming after me in my messages. I know I write smut. I’m 20 years old and write this stuff for people who actually want to read it. That’s why I put warnings before the imagine starts so I don’t have to deal with messages but I still get them.. -.-
I’M 20 LEMMA WRITE MY SEXUAL THOUGHTS BOUT TOM. BYE.
ps. I used the word trousers because its fun to say? Let me live lmao
*Slides down the pole throwing the smut to you hungry darlings*
“Fucking asshole” you mutter throwing your phone onto your bed. Tears were falling down your cheeks. You couldn’t help it. Your boyfriend, well ex boyfriend now had been cheating on you for months.
You caught him fucking her when you stopped by his apartment a day early. He thought you weren’t coming back so soon. You just got back from visiting the states and came home to heartbreak. It never occurred to you that he would be cheating on you. Everything felt fine and nothing seemed wrong.
Wiping off the rest of your running makeup you wash your face. Looking at yourself was so pathetic. You were too blind to see his deceit and look at you now. Crying over someone you thought you loved. Letting out a sigh you head back towards your bed.
Picking up your phone you click the home button. Using you Touch ID to open it up and click on the phone app. Scrolling through your contacts you click on your best friends contact. Putting the phone to your ear you hear the dialing tone. After a short few rings it stops.
“Hello love, what’s up?” Tom’s voice fills your ear making you smile. Tears spill over and you whimper from the pain in your chest forming again.
I loved you, I really did and I was naive enough to think that you loved me too but you never did, not really. You loved that I fuelled your ego, that I was in love with you, that I thought you were the best person on the entire planet but you never loved me and I was too blind to see it but now I do and now I can’t unsee it, it’s too late for us now. I know what I deserve and you’ll never be able to give it to me.
I know that now and I’m never going to forget it.
hi there! thanks a lot to anon who requested it. dear anon, you asked for reader having a mental breakdown but i just could’t write it this way so i changed a little bit, hope you like it anyway. btw requests are open!
i know not everyone likes ff about topics like this one but y’all should give it a try
and i just wanted everyone to know that if there’s anyone who wants to talk or feels lonely or both, PLEASE DM me.
warning: suicide attempt
[Y/N] wasn’t okay. And she was completely helpless about it. She’s been lying on her bed and staring at the ceiling for 3 hours now. She didn’t even feel sad, more like empty inside.
Before that empty feeling started to eat her up she wasn’t only sad. Anger was present too.
The thing is, she’s always been a sensitive girl. She could pretend the rude comments would’t harm her but inside she knew she was hurt. She was good at not showing that though, always has been. It was the only thing she truly liked about herself. If somebody asked her she always had the same prepared answer. She would play dumb and say ‘Oh, what do I like about myself? I don’t know! I think I like my hair and long eyelashes!’ and then giggle, like a stupid school girl. It always worked, people were strangely satisfied with that answer, she never understood why and how.
[Y/N] jumped at the sound of her telephone’s ringing. It was probably her best friend Jerome. [Y/N] felt bad for not talking to him. [Y/N] wasn’t aware but the Ginger had some strong feelings for her. He would sometimes show it by little actions but [Y/N] was too blind to see it.
But really though, let’s be fucking realistic. She’s been planning to end her life for a few months now. She may be feeling bad now but when she’s dead she can’t feel bad. Jerome would find a girl good enough for him sooner or later and leave her like all of her friends did. She could’t blame them, she would avoid herself as much as she could, too. There was the only way to do it.
Finally, she picked up the phone.
“Hello?” It was Jerome!
[Y/N] was kind of hoping she was right and that would be him, she wanted to say goodbye. Hear his voice one last time.
“Hiya Baby Cakes! Don’t cha been quiet with me lately? Anyway, I was wondering if you wanted to go wit–”
“I’m so sorry Jerome!” She cut him off with a loud sob which caught him off guard.
“Doll? Wha-what’s going on?” He sounded really concerned.
Jerome almost fell off the stairs he was standing on as he heard [Y/N]’s sobs getting louder. She just could’t stop herself! He was going to ask her to go with him on a romantic killing spree, it was supposed to be a great time for both of them, kinda like a date, and then he’d brought her to a nice quiet place to talk. He wanted to confess his feelings. He felt like she really deserved to know them.
The stairs he was standing on were a fire escape from a building near hers. He wanted to knock on her door as fast as he could if she accepted his offer.
“I’m being honest. I’ve never been more honest in my life. I really am sorry. I just can’t do this anymore. Thank you for everything. You took a good care of me, and none of this is your fault. I… I love you, Jerome, I really do. Have a nice life you deserve. Goodbye forever.” When those words left her mouth, she immediately hung up.
She could’t believe it. She confessed her love for him! She knew he would never feel the same way and she wanted to end this pain fast.
[Y/N] sprinted towards her bathroom grabbing a razor blade on her way. A picture of Jerome was on the table. She took it too. She wanted his face to be the last thing she’s going to see.
After 3 minutes her bath was already filled with hot water. Enough for her to go in. She kept her clothes on.
[Y/N]’s head was the only thing that sticked out from water. Picture of handsome looking Jerome drifted as she stared at it. She remembered the day she took it. Jerome took her to the zoo. One of the nicest day of her life.
Now as she thought about it she didn’t want to kill herself anymore.
Too bad she already cut her veins.
Now it was only a matter of time.
‘Hey, at least the song I like is on’
The walls were thin and she could hear her neighbour’s radio playing her favourite song.
And then she heard screaming outside her apartment. Her door burst wide open.
‘’[Y/N]!” It was Jerome. Her Jerome.
And then everything went black.
[Y/N] found herself slowly waking up in a very white room. Her eyes squeezed shut for a second, it was so bright there. Looked like some sort of hospital.
She felt somebody holding her right hand gently. It was Jerome. What a relief she felt. She was alive. With Jerome by her side.
He was asleep. He looked like an angel to her. That one piece of hair resting on his forehead.
She held his hand tighter, he felt it because he started to wake up. He looked so cute and innocent, she would gaze at him her whole life if she only could.
His eyes finally met hers.
“Don’t ever do this to me again. I mean it, Sweet Cheeks.” It was one of those rare moments when he was being very serious.
[Y/N] was so glad he was calm. She knew they’re going to talk about it later when she feels better.
“I’m sorry, J. I love you.”
Her Puddin’ could only chuckle at her funny expression.
“I love you too, Baby Cakes. Now let’s go. I’m taking you home.”