Hair held up by pencils, laughing with friends in the library, cups of cocoa, the sound of flipping through papers, the smell of old books, falling asleep in class, humming while you work, debates with friends
Surrounded by empty coffee cups, three textbooks open at once, working at 2 in the morning, competing with friends for higher grades, studying out of spite, working to prove someone wrong, rolling your eyes at your textbook's stupid jokes, sassing teachers because you're friends
Messy bullet journals, papers sticking out of binders, impromptu study sessions, binging crash course videos for fun, doodles on the corners of worksheets, never-ending "TBR" piles of books, dog-eared pages, neat buns, dressing up nice to study
warm drinks in big mugs, studying in morning sunlight, oversized sweaters, classical music, reading by the fire, studying with friends, bringing your textbook to a small coffee shop, studying with a cat by your side, being asked by classmates to tutor them
Do you ever catch yourself thinking of me? Of what we had? Of how my eyes would glow every time I looked at you, or how my hair used to shine when the sun hit it? Or maybe how I would laugh so freely either for your stupid jokes or for no reason in specific? I sometimes do. I bet you don’t and I guess you never did.
Might I just say @mortemistrata that I was a little unsure about this prompt at first, but I had so much fun writing this!
“Good morning, Keith.”
Keith froze with one eyebrow arched. He slowly studied the brunet in front of him. “No ‘mullet’ this morning?”
“That would be rude,” Lance said, lips curled into a frown.
Keith’s face fell until he was matching the brunet’s expression. “Are you okay?” He zeroed in on small details, like the way Lance’s normally tan skin looked slightly washed out or the dark, bruised circles under Lance’s almost lifeless eyes.
“Of course.” Lance replied, tone even. “We should go before we are late to breakfast.”
Keith absently nodded, brows furrowed deeply, as he followed the brunet into the dining hall.
Ok so we know that Pidge is a computer mastermind: she hacked into the garrison(probably multiple times), was able to create a complete fake identity, and still created more advanced scanners than what the garrison had.
We know that hunk is possibly a engineering genius: Even if he puts it more to cuisine, he could easily build a rocket engine out of scrap parts. We’ve seen him fix alien power thrusters that he has never seen before, or at least had very little knowledge of.
So why would they place the two smartest people the garrison has seen in probably years, with Lance? Someone that everyone thinks is just an average pilot? Someone who only got into the fighter pilot classes because Keith dropped out? But what if he wasn’t just an average cargo pilot that got lucky like everyone thought?
I headcanon that Lance is a tactical prodigy! A strategic mastermind! That he can come up with some of the most brilliant war tactics and battle plans that would trump any generals ideas for years to come!
Think about him using his gift to help organize some sort of Cuban resistance against its corrupted government( I don’t know the real situation in Cuba, or if anything is going on in Cuba, but just follow this for the head canon…au-ish thing I got going on.) and his plans help the people win against their government, and Lance is just happy now that his family will be safe and happy in their home.
The American government hears about this Cuban boy who pretty much lead the way to freedom for his country, about his prodigy status. And then they find out that the kid wants to be a pilot. And they take advantage of this.
They give this Cuban boy a free pass to America to go to the Garrison to become a pilot, and all he has to do is make battle plans for them every now and then. And of course Lance takes the opportunity, his whole family standing behind his decision to be the best pilot to come out of the Garrison.
Now they put Lance into the cargo pilot class at first, to keep him sated, and for awhile it works out. Lance is doing great in his classes, he’s even #1 in the cargo pilot class, and he sends the government any tactics, battle plans, etc. that he creates. Lance even made friends with his roommate, who is an incredible engineer and friend. But Lance wants more, he doesn’t want to stay a cargo pilot, he wants to be a fighter pilot, so he works harder in school to be able to move up. only problem? Keith took the last placement in the fighter pilot class, and now Lance’s government work is kind of lacking its usual brilliance.(can you blame him? His dream has been thwarted by some guy with a mullet! Of course he isn’t really doing his best.)
But then Keith gets kicked out because of some anger problems. So the higher ups make Iverson move up Lance and Hunk to fighter pilot and engineer, hoping that this will get Lance back into his usual groove. Iverson doesn’t like this, but orders are orders. So Lance and Hunk move up, and Pidge joins the group. But that doesn’t mean Iverson has to be nice to Lance, so he does all that he can to remind him that he’s only there because of Keith.
And then they all find Shiro, then join Voltron, and Lance can’t wait to help the team with his thing! He can’t wait to show them that he isn’t just a good shot, but an even better strategic mastermind! But the only one who really knows about Lance’s gift is Hunk, after long nights of listening to Lance talk in English and Cuban about tactical advantages and every battle plan he’s thought of. The others just think that Lance is just a flirt, who doesn’t really take anything seriously. So whenever he tries to put in his own ideas, he get shut down before he can really tell hem his ideas. It makes him start questioning his talent, and his place on the team.
Then during a mission, things go south. Fast. And Lance tries to offer up his plan on how to get out of there, but again he gets shut down again, something like “ shut up Lance! We’re trying to figure out how to get out of here, we don’t need your stupid jokes!” From who, that’s kinda up in the air at the moment. Then, uh oh! Lance gets captured while their escaping!
And Hunk is pissed. Beyond pissed! As soon as the team meets up to try and talk, Hunk goes OFF ON THEM!!! He tells everyone how Lance is a prodigy tactician and strategic genius, and that if they only listened to Lance than everyone might have made it out safe and Lance wouldn’t have been captured. And of course everyone is now feeling bad that they’ve always ignored Lance or shut him down before he could say his ideas. And Slav is now freaking out, because they have technology that can take information from people’s minds, and if the Galra find out about Lance’s talent, that could be really bad for them.
At first, the Galra do the usual thing; torture, regular beatings, rarely feeding him. But he isn’t spilling anything, so they use that machine on Lance, hoping to get information on Voltron. But when they find out that his brain is filled with incredible battle plans, you can bet your ass that they continue to use this machine to use his tactics against voltron. And all the while Lance is in constant pain, for the machine, from his injuries, and he can’t stop it. He can’t protect his friends, instead the thing everyone has called ‘a gift’ is going to hurt his friends. And he can’t do anything to stop it.
Wow, that was a lot longer than I was planning. but yeah, lance being crazy brilliant. I totally headcanon it. So I hoped you like, and if you got any questions, don’t be afraid to ask them!
I want you to remember the way I used to smile. I want you to remember the way I used to laugh at your stupid jokes. I want you to remember the way I would come back from my sadness when your fingers traces my freckles, making constellations, losing yourself in my dark galaxy.
I want you to remember something good about me. Because even though you tell people I was your worst mistake, you stayed for 2 years, so obviously there was something good you saw in me.
You are twelve and your best friend kisses you the day before moving away. He’s nervous and shy, and the kiss is soft, but there are no sparks and no butterflies in your stomach. You are left feeling weird and uncomfortable, like there’s something wrong with you.
You are thirteen and your classmates talk about their crushes and how much they want to kiss them. You listen from a corner but don’t join the conversation. You don’t have a crush on anyone, you wouldn’t want any of their mouthes close to yours, so you can’t add anything to it. One of them still turns around and asks you about your crush. No one believes you when you say no one. The next day there is a rumor that you love one of your friends.
You are fourteen and come back home to find your living room busy with relatives. You join them and for a while everything seems fine, everyone is talking about embarrasing moments, and telling funny stories, and saying lame jokes. But then one of your aunts smiles conspirationally and winks at the other adults, and starts questioning you.
“You must have a boyfriend, someone as pretty as you!” She beams, and everyone gathered agrees. “So tell us, who is your boyfriend? Who do you like?”
You try to laugh it off and get out, and feel uncomfortable about it all, but they keep asking and keep asking and so you say the first name that comes into your mind (because your classmates didn’t believe you and you almost lost a friend because of it). That satisfies them for now and they all commend you for your good taste. No one notices you slipping out of the room until much later, and they all think it’s because you’re a teen now.
(Not one of them thinks that maybe they made you uncomfortable. No one thinks that maybe you would rather not talk about things like this.)
You are fifteen and have resigned yourself to the feelings of isolation. Your friends talk about masturbating, about sex, about the hot people in the class. Your classmates still ask you who you are crushing on. Sometimes you say a random name, and sometimes you claim to be too busy with your homework to worry about love (which seems to be a good enough excuse), but in the privacy of your mind you still wonder.
You look at women, trying to feel any sort of attraction towards them. You even try kissing a friend, but you feel absolutely nothing. You conclude that you can’t be neither homosexual nor bisexual. The logical leap to this is that you must be hetero, since those are the only options.
You try to make yourself fall in love with a boy, then. You stare at the so-called cute boy of your class for hours, waiting for the magical spark to appear. You try to make yourself love a boy based on his clothing. You try to understand what the hell is it that people are talking about.
You waste days, weeks, months on this task. You never succeed.
You are sixteen and you know you are broken. People still ask you about love and sex and crushes, and you still lie for fear of being different, of being alienated, of feeling even more isolated than you already do. You know you will have to marry one day, because marriage is mandatory no matter what you feel. So you resign yourself to pretending, to keep up the act. You try and keep trying not to let it bother you, but the idea of sex, of marriage, of love, all of it makes your stomach churn. You try to pretend you aren’t broken, but you know you are.
You are seventeen when you first see the word asexual, somewhere on the internet. You end up looking that word up, and find a website dedicated to it. There are hundreds upon hundreds of comments in the forums, but you first read the FAQs.
‘Asexuality is not feeling sexual attraction’, you read out loud, barely a whisper, as something inside of you clicks. It makes sense. It makes sense but you ignore it, and convince yourself that you do feel it (because there was that boy you thought looked pretty and that girl you considered cute), and you think the only reason why you don’t really fall in love and want sex is because you are broken. You know this to be true.
You close all of the tabs related to that word. For the next weeks you pretend to never have found it, but it’s always at the back of your mind.
(It’s a chance of being whole, your mind whispers, and you deny it because you are normal. You’ve been trying to be normal for so many years and you must be, have to be, will be…)
Asexuality fits with your life. You are broken, but maybe you aren’t alone.
You are eighteen, and you are more informed now. You have accepted that you are asexual (ace, as the community calls it), and you are somehow much happier now. You know you aren’t broken, now. You know this is an option that was never presented to you before.
You finally come out to your family, feeling safe and secure and confident in your knowledge. Your family laughs. They say that asexuality doesn’t exist, that it’s impossible not to feel sexual attraction. They tell you that you are too young, that you’ll find the right person, not to worry, as if your biggest worry was to not fall in love, instead of not succeding in life. They act like idiots and apologize when it’s too late, and even as you accept their apologies your mind keeps whispering (but what if they are right, what if it’s true, what if you are too young, what if you are faking it, what if, what if)
Your family refers to asexuality as 'that thing’, and they never ask you questions about it. It becomes an unspoken thing. Something that must never be talked about.
Sometimes you feel like crying, but you don’t really know why.
You are nineteen when you come out to your friends. You have put a wall around the fiasco with your family, and you explain everything to them. Your friends are open-minded about it and agree that it fits with your behaviour. They ask you questions and joke about it, but always make sure not to be offensive. You smile all thorought the afternoon, and even once you get home.
A few weeks later one of your friends tells you they are terrified of the idea of being like you, or becoming like you. They say, with concern and real worry in their eyes, that they wouldn’t be able to live a life like yours, so uninteresting, so lonely. You tell them not to worry and don’t even cry about it. But there is a heavy feeling in your chest and a knot in your throat.
You are twenty and the world exhaustes you sometimes. You get tired of watching sex and romance be such an important part of the plots of your favourite movies and TV shows. You are tired of being told in very subtle ways that your orientation isn’t valid. You are tired of the looming threat of corrective rape, of people who hate on you for your sexuality, of stupid jokes and stupid tropes. You are tired of them all.
But you are also twenty and understand that you aren’t broken. You know you aren’t alone. So you wear your ace ring with pride and wear the colors of the flag during the awareness week, and are ready to talk about it with anyone who listens. You are tired of being silenced, so you will yell until you get hoarse if that’s what it takes for the world to listen.
You are twenty, and you accept yourself, and even if things get rough, they can also get better.
Summary: (Modern Au) After a bad breakup, your roommate insists that you need to a one night stand to end your dry spell and take your ex out of your system. But what happens when you forced to spend time with your one night stand?
Paring: Bucky x Reader
Warnings: This is vaguely inspired by a movie of the same name,. Readers thoughts are in italic;
We need to talk.” Your roommate says getting in your room and sitting on your bed “Can it wait a few minutes, Wanda? This episode is almost done.” She groans annoyed, turning off the TV. “No, it can’t, you watched two whole seasons this week. You need to get out more, have fun and get laid. Really, when was the last time you got out of the house?”
You straighten up your sweater, sitting up on the bed, “Yesterday, to go to work.” She rolls her eyes at you and you feel like a kid that talked back to her parents. “Sure, you go to work almost every day, but when was the last time you got out the house to have fun?”
You don’t answer her because you don’t remember. Your life lately has been going to work and going home. “See, you don’t even remember. Look, I know that since you and Nathan broke up things are hard, but you need to go back out there. Have fun, do something crazy.”
You’re lucky… you’ve fallen in love with your best friend. The person who accepts you at your worst and laughs at your stupid jokes. The person who knows you better than you know yourself. I would kill to spend the rest of my life with that person.
taehyung being that annoying guy
your friends are friends with so you have to put up with him:
first of all, everything about him would
annoy you since the very beginning - his overconfidence, his dumb grin, the fact that he has 5
holes in his big ears (who the fuck needs that many), the way he wiggles his
eyebrows playfully when he says something only he finds funny, or his
stupid deep voice that makes him sound like a man when he’s in fact still a
kid, and most importantly his childish remarks and behavior in general
with time even his breathing would upset you
every time you’d walk into your friends’
house and see him there, you’d get the urge to turn around and leave
you were annoyed because he made fun of you
from the minute he met you - he was nice to all your other friends, but he just
had something personal against you and he’d always tease you about the dumbest
things, and it always seemed to affect you, which is why you were mad at
yourself more than at him
he’d always have something to say about
something you were doing
“you’re going on a date dressed like
that? no wonder you never get laid, you look like a nun, where did you even get
that outfit, you went back to the ‘70s?”
“of course the guy hasn’t called you,
you’re a pain in the ass and you wait for months before putting out, who in their right mind would call!?”
“why don’t you accept the fact that
you’re a loser like the rest of us and stay here and watch some tv instead of going to this party?”
his remarks weren’t that bad, all your
friend laughed at them because in your circle of friends, teasing was just the
way things were - but you didn’t consider him a friend because he just wasn’t
so anything rude coming from him got on
Word Count: 687 | Warnings: a first attempt at angst
Summary: When you die after being kidnapped, Tony does the only thing he knows how to do to keep you with him. (Please read A/N!!!)
A/N: So this is a series i’ve been thinking about for a while and it’s kinda complicated??? Maybe??? Uhhh basically this is the set up for the avengers and their reaction to Tony’s robot/AI of you. Each part is going to be an individual avenger that may or may not have a romantic attachment to the reader (that is kind of up in the air right now). So there will be a tag list for this chain and of course if you would like to be a part of it just send us a message!!
There was no blood, there was supposed to be blood right? When people got stabbed, they were supposed to bleed. The only trace of it was in your mouth the sense of iron just filled your mouth and nose. Besides that and the immense pain in your chest there was nothing but the metal arms around you. No one had listened to you, and even as you laid there you kept repeating in your head.