#I’ve greened out too much to risk that shit

[boomerang109]

self care: Friday afternoon alone getting high

[nanamistiee]

loverboy. // megumi fushiguro x reader

ooh, lover boy! what're you doing tonight? ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ megumi fushiguro x reader ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙ ━━━ ( ⋆｡°✩ tw: n/a) ━ (wc: 1,015 ) ━ ( song inspo ✩°｡⋆) ━━━

what kind of woman is your type?

ever since todo had posed the question, megumi hasn’t been able to get it out of his mind. at the time, he’d spewed some nonsense -- not having a particular type -- mostly because he’d believed the question was completely out of place and nonsensical; which, in his defense, it was. the other male was less than pleased with his answer, even going as far as to call him boring. yet, megumi couldn’t help but wonder if he’d even answered truthfully.

“gumi,” your voice finally breaks the silence between you two. he’d been so lost in thought he’d nearly forgotten you were a foot away from him, staring intently as you sipped away at your matcha latte. “you’re so quiet today,” you frown, fiddling around with your straw. has he upset you? 

he matches your frown almost instantaneously. “i don’t think i’m being any more quiet than usual,” he tries his hardest to coolly retort, an impulsive hand rushing toward you to ruffle your hair in a desperate attempt to act like nothing’s wrong. no, his mind totally isn’t waging an entire war right now. no, he’s not at all debating on, perhaps, one of the most crucial decisions of his life.

whether or not to dare risk ruining your friendship. 

──────────────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────────────────

“you make me sick,” maki’s voice, a disgusted groan, breaks his concentration entirely. as he whips his head toward the green haired girl, he realizes something. he’d been staring at you this entire time. you were several feet away, talking to panda. yet, the black haired boy is absolutely mesmerized. the way your eyes light up and sparkle every time someone makes you laugh… the way every time you flash your pearly white teeth seems to make his heart flutter. there’s something about you that he’s absolutely addicted to, but megumi fushiguro swears he’d never tell a soul about any of this. no, you two are friends. what if you didn’t like him back? what if he tells you how he feels and you never want to speak to him ever again? consumed by his thoughts, he fails to realize you and panda are waltzing right up to them. 

he clears his mind with a visible shake of his head, tilting his head and looking at maki with his best ‘i don’t know what you’re talking about’ look. was he really that obvious? he makes a mental note to stop trying to stare at you less, yet this feels like an impossible task.

“just ask her out already, loverboy,” maki sticks out her tongue. he doesn’t even have to look at her to know she’s got a shit-eating grin plastered on her face.

“ooh, ask who out?” you question, clasping your hands together as you sit down next to your best boyfriend. he heard your voice. your voice. you just sat next to him. 

he swears he nearly jumps out of his skin upon realizing you’d just walked into a conversation about you. could he play it off? act stupid? what kind of lie could he tell to get out of explaining that maki was teasing him about you? were they talking about another girl from another school? no -- something about even pretending to like another girl feels wrong. 

“‘gumi’ likes a girl, but he’s too much of a pussy to ask her out,” maki snickers. it seems she’s even poking fun at your nickname for him, and he silently prays that you don’t notice this. “as a fantastic and the best friend anyone could ever ask for, i’ve been trying to encourage him.” her sarcasm is nearly enough to make his skin crawl. she’s deadpanning and making it so obvious it hurts. 

“do we know who this girl is?” you ask. maybe he’s making things up -- imaging things to make himself feel better -- but he swears your eyes dull and shift from the beautiful, sparkling orbs they always were. “we do not!” maki clicks her tongue, and megumi can finally breathe a sigh of relief. or so he thinks. “say… what’s your type anyway?” she segways the conversation almost cruelly, staring you dead in your eyes.

you seem to take a moment. firstly, to inhale a sharp breath. then, you take a second to think, furrowing your brows together in a moment of deep thought. a few beats pass and you finally exhale your sigh, and megumi swears you three have been sitting in silence for eternity. “tall,” you start, and he swears his stomach is tying itself into knots. “reserved… smart -- gotta be smart,” you chuckle and grin. “maybe even a little stoic. like i can never tell what’s going on in his head, but i always at least hope he’s thinking about me somewhere in there.”

in his state of sheer panic, he nearly misses the obvious blush dusting your cheeks. maki could’ve smacked him right in the back of his head and he still would’ve missed it. yet, somehow, you still have more to say. “someone who’s always thinking about other people… protective, i guess. someone mature and who always takes things seriously, even if other people think he’s a pain in the ass for it.” he can’t help but feel a bit guilty about giving such a lame answer to todo now, especially when you’ve had plenty to say. megumi opens his mouth to speak, yet he’s not even sure what he’s supposed to say to that. he prays deep down you’re talking about him, but it’s not exactly like he can voice that out loud--

“oh my god!” maki groans, throwing her head back. “you two are absolutely disgusting!” “you know she’s talking about you, right?” she hisses aloud, giving megumi, perhaps, the dirtiest look she could ever muster. “it’s actually so painful to watch you two dance around each other!” with her opinions growing quite vocal, maki stands up and crosses her arms. “do i have to do it for you? or are you two gonna talk about your disgusting and obvious feelings for each other?”

[rosielovesf1]

adventures in baby-sitting | LN4

sorry can't talk, at a tea party

word count: 1.1k

warnings: so. much. fluff.

author's note: thank y'all so much for the love on my last post!! sharing stuff i write has always been difficult for me, so it means a ton. hope you enjoy this one!!

“Maybe we should’ve chosen the pink one.”

“Lando, my love.” The corner of y/n's eyes crinkled as she turned to face her boyfriend. He was turning over a small stuffed dog in his hands, fiddling with the soft fluff on its ears. “She’s four and loves animals. She’s going to be ecstatic.” 

He grunted and kept his gaze focused on the stuffed animal. 

“You’re so cute,” she couldn’t help but laugh at him, even in his distressed state. He finally looked up and met her eyes at the soft touch of her fingers under his chin. “Don’t be nervous, lovie.”

“Don’t laugh at me,” he whined, despite melting into her touch. “I’ve been less nervous to walk into big meetings. I don’t know why the thought of Maisie not liking me is making me shit myself.” 

“Because you have a huge heart, you’re kind and caring-” Lando’s eyes locked onto hers and softened, the fading daylight bringing out flecks of brown and green. “And happen to be intimidated by a four-year-old.” She kissed his nose playfully before he could pull away. 

“Now come on. She hates when people are late.” That got him moving, pulling her closer to him so he could squeeze her hand as they walked up her sister’s paved driveway. “Ready?” 

He nodded and she kissed his cheek before knocking on the door. It opened pretty much immediately, Lando sucking in a breath as the couple had to look down to see their host. Maisie stood in the entryway with a toothy grin on her face and her hair pulled up into two wispy pigtails. 

“Auntie y/n!” she squealed, launching herself forward to wrap her tiny arms around y/n's legs. 

“Hi, sweetpea.” y/n bent at the waist to hug her back. “I brought a friend with me, too! Oh-”

y/n's sentence was cut off as Maisie ducked behind her legs, peering up at Lando from between them. 

“Maisie, darling, remember that you only open the door with Mummy or Daddy,” y/n's sister, y/s/n, clucked affectionately at her daughter. 

Maisie didn’t look the least bit sorry from her hiding spot. 

“Hi, you guys,” y/s/n said, squeezing y/n into a hug before moving over to hug Lando. “Thank you so much for babysitting!”

“Anytime, y/s/n,” Lando smiled, his eyes darting curiously back and forth between y/s/n and Maisie. 

“Mais, Auntie y/n and Uncle Lando are going to stay with you tonight, okay?” y/s/n said, beckoning her daughter out from behind y/n's legs. Lando’s cheeks warmed at y/s/n's verbal confirmation of his place in their family. “Can you say hi to him?” 

Maisie waved shyly, still clinging to her mum. 

“Hi, Maisie!” Lando said, bending down to her level. y/n couldn’t help but giggle at the change in his tone of voice. “Your auntie and I brought you something.” 

He brought out the dog from behind his back, and Maisie’s eyes widened. She let out a squeal of delight and rushed forward, happily accepting the stuffed animal from Lando’s outstretched hands. 

Maisie hugged the dog tightly, tucking it under her arm. “She’s pink!”

y/n bumped Lando’s shoulder as he stood back up, saving her “I told you so” for later. 

“Lucky girl. Alright, I’ll be back by nine, and all of the emergency info is on the counter.” y/s/n beckoned them into the house and grabbed her purse from the table by the door. “Thank you both, again. Call if you need anything.” 

“Of course,” y/n said, running a hand over Maisie’s hair. “Say bye to Mummy!”

Maisie waved goodbye, the door shutting softly behind y/s/n after she blew her daughter a kiss, and all of a sudden the house was quiet. y/n waited one, two, three seconds and blew out a sigh of relief when it seemed that the risk of the little girl crying at the departure of her mum was low. 

Maisie looked up at them, seemingly taking a second to assess their presence. Her mind made up, she grabbed both of their hands, leading them over to a tiny table with two chairs and a pink teapot. “You sit here with doggie,” Lando was led to the chair on the left, and she placed her dog carefully in his lap. “And auntie goes here.” y/n sat down in the chair next to him, shifting to get comfortable in the toddler-sized seat. 

“This is Maisie’s tea party!” She exclaimed excitedly, dashing around to fill their cups from the teapot. She waited expectantly for them to drink and they both compiled, lifting the tiny cups to their lips. y/n winked at Lando over her cup, and he nudged her foot with his under the table. 

Their moment was interrupted by their host, who chastised Lando for not pointing his pinky out while holding his cup. Lando happily complied, and the trio enjoyed their tea party as the clock ticked closer to Maisie’s bedtime. 

After y/n and Lando had their fourth cups of tea, y/n set hers down and turned to face her little niece. “Hey goober. We gotta get to bed.” 

“Can doggie come to bed, too?” Maisie asked, sticking out her bottom lip at Lando. 

“Of course,” he replied, passing the stuffed animal over to her. 

“Okayyyy.” Maisie got up from her chair at the head of the table, one hand securely wrapped around her stuffed animal, and the other reaching up to grasp Lando’s. His eyebrows raised in surprise at y/n, and she grinned at him, mouthing “I think somebody likes you.”

Lando smiled down at the little girl and let her lead him over to her ocean themed room, complying with her request to be tucked in. He took extra care to make sure that the dog was securely tucked under the blankets as well. y/n just hung out in the doorway, her heart swelling at the sight of her boyfriend being so tender with her niece. 

As Lando said goodnight and y/n turned off the lights, Maisie mumbled out a sleepy “Good night, Uncle Lando.” 

“Good night, Maisie,” he called back, a wide smile breaking out across his face as he walked to stand behind y/n in the doorway.

“Did you hear that?” he whispered, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his chin on her shoulder. “She called me Uncle.” 

“I did, love,” she smiled, turning her head to meet his eyes. “You’re so good with her.” 

The corners of his eyes crinkled at the compliment, and he moved so he was facing her. “Maybe Maisie needs a cousin,” he said with a cheesy grin. 

“Hmm, maybe.” She stood up on her tiptoes to brush her nose against his, before capturing his lips in a kiss. “It’d be fun to have another little one running around.”

“I can’t wait.”

@landonorris: sorry can’t talk, at a tea party 🫖

@y/nl/n: auntie duties 🫡

[wandasaura]

i decided to be nice and not individually send every thought i’ve had in the last hour, you’re welcome babygirl.

reader:

- getting a drunken tattoo during the mommy and daddy don’t know they went out request

- wrecking (minorly) with daddy on the bike

- getting high asf and causing mischief w/ yelena while mommy and daddy are out and them coming home to absolute chaos

- run away reader run away ready run away reader

- car breaks down on the what was it? 40 minute drive? to westview from campus in the middle of the hottest summer ever, thanks global warming

- breaking something in the house or something along those lines and losing her shit because her real mother would kill her for something like that

- slipping while running around the pool after mommy has literally punished her for doing that previously. hurts herself, could break something, cries like a baby while wanda just sighs with her hands on her hips with that “i told you so look” until she can’t stand not holding babygirl

- someone gets sick (hurt/comfort) or baby gets sick and get literally everyone sick, rip squad

- mommy and daddy finally realize how few actual meals reader eats and institutes the sticker chart to earn stickers and eventually a super special treat

- mommy and daddy make reader get life360 or an airtag attached to her after running away so much

- 👹

i was waiting to answer this until i finished what i needed to do. but okay let me ponder all of this:

— r would get a henna with monica and be absolutely distraught when she wakes up the next morning and there’s a mini palm tree on her hip bone. it would take natasha literally holding her down on the bed to get her to see it’s literally only temporary

— never going to happen, absolutely not. if natasha has even the slightest bad feeling she’s calling wanda to come pick you up. she’s a reckless driver, but after her accident she’s reluctant to even get on the bike but she knows that you adore it so she does it for you. she’s not willing to risk your safety even if she knows that logically nothing would’ve happened had she kept you on with her

— after the first time you get high yelena offers to show you an actual good time, more so you stop associating weed to ill practically greening out lol. she makes you wait half an hour between hits, slaps your thigh when you take a hit too hard/deep. she’s a total mother hen which is funny considering she’s the most chaotic person you know. when you’re high enough, you and her try and make wandas cookie recipe bc you’re properly suffering from the munchies and guess who walks in right as you drop flour all over the floor… wanda and natasha who had been out at a business dinner that you’d willingly elected not to attend. you practically fling yourself at natasha and giggle about how wanda’s face is as red as her hair.

— she accidentally knocks a certificate off the wall when she tries to open up the window in natasha’s office. it’s only a small crack in the frame, but her mind sends her back to a place where any minor infraction was punishable. she’s an inconsolable wreck when natasha gets home but it’s reassured that it’s only a frame and it can be fixed.

— no because r would eat absolute shit and wanda doesn’t know whether to rush over and assess the damage or reprimand her for once again running next to the pool, but when he notices the blood that’s slowly tainting the pavement she’s at your side in minutes trying to calm you down

— the little bug gets a bug and she’s down bad. it’s only a day before natasha gets sick too, and wandas the last man standing. she never thought having two girlfriends would become having two whiny and clingy toddlers but alas she’s found herself in a position that’s not at all dissimilar. you’re clinging to her whenever she’s around and natasha’s whining for kisses despite turning her head away everytime wanda tries to give her one. “don’t kiss me, you’ll get sick too” and wanda just rolls her eyes because natasha’s fever is so high there’s no doubt she’ll forget by time she’s better. you and natasha get better and a week later wanda is sick… which nobody wants

— they compromise and let her have coconut shrimp and literally nothing else for dinner because apparently that’s “the only thing that i’m going to eat, my brain has been demanding it all day”

— no because i think it would come into play when natasha has to leave for another business trip! she’s suggests the life360 so you know where she is and that she’s safe if she can’t text back right away… and it does come in handy when you inevitably take off again

it is fucking brutal trying to type in the rain

[sprixxistix]

Don’t know what possessed me to make this but I really like how this page turned out

It’s based on an idea that I’ll ramble about, if you don’t wanna read it and you’re just here for the art, that’s cool! Just stop reading the post here bc I’m letting you know now the rest is just going to be me rambling for a while. Mild spoiler warning maybe? Not for any major game event, mostly lore stuff.

So, my idea doesn’t really work since I found out through the wiki that apparently the reason why the player character keeps reviving is because Mr. Lopee revives them for some reason? And is also the one forcing Sebastian to help the player further by running the Dead-Drop Shop and showing them documents. I haven’t seen the end of the game and I won’t until I beat it so I’m just working off my preexisting knowledge and what I read on the wiki (that I felt wasn’t a spoiler) But I’ll think of it like an au. The basics of it is some Resident Evil type shit with the black and green glowing substance that you can occasionally find infesting the Blacksite (I’m assuming it’s rotten coral and will just call it that for convenience sake) being collected, mixed with some other substances or whatever, and injected into selected expendables as a very experimental and last ditch effort because we’re 3000-5000 prisoners in before the player gets there and every single one of them is dead. And realistically how many can you take before people start getting suspicious or you run out and need to start sending actual Urbanshade workers? Plus, if it goes smoothly, maybe it can be used for personnel who are particularly at risk, like guards. Or even Mr. Shade himself to keep him alive and running the company. (because he should be like 118-119 years old. He was born in 1906 and somehow is still alive when the lockdown happened? Which is sometime in 2025 I think.) But this could explain why you revive, why sometimes HQ will tell you “don’t fear death. Fear failure” before a run, and why sometimes the text at the bottom of the screen speaks to you. (I’ve gotten things like “the Blacksite breathes, the Blacksite hungers” which ofc I included in the drawing bc that quote goes hard, or “(don’t) fear the reaper” and the most fascinating one to me of it saying something like “TAKE US BACK TO THE LIGHT” when I swam away to try and get the document for getting your pdg exploded) And you can tell I’m very inspired by Resident Evil because in my mind it’s like, if you die, you can be revived through either your heart being salvaged and brought back then you regenerate your body from there, or you just eventually crawl out of some rotten coral “hub” if there’s nothing left of you and go back down to do it all over again. And to me, the voices are either the thoughts of other people connected to the rotten coral, past lives of yourself warning you (which my friend suggested and I love that idea), or people who died near the rotten coral and had their last thoughts “recorded” by it, or a mix of all three. Sort of like the megamycete hivemind.

Anyway, I’ve rambled for way way way too long, thank you if you read it. I’m a simple creature whose mind is fully consumed by Pressure and I’m hyperfixated on it so much rn. Thank you again, have a nice day ^^

[siriuslydaz3d]

Attitude || Peter Quill

Summary: Reader is pissed after Quill risks his life earlier in the day. 

Warnings: does swearing warrant a swearing? 

AN) first time writing for Quill in a very long time. Cross posted on Wattpad! (Wattpad user is Xx_mrsquill_xX)  

“You are mad.” Mantis spoke hesitantly, a hand resting gently on (Y/N)’s shoulder. “Peter did something to upset you, yes?” 

(Y/N) smiled softly raising her head to look Mantis in the eye. “Mad isn't exactly the word I would use. Violently pissed would be a better descriptor, but yeah. Dumbass was being…well his usual dumbass self.” 

“You love him.” Mantis noted, antenna glowing bright once again. The girl covered in green sat beside her friend, back resting up against the large tree. “Is that why you’re mad?” 

(Y/N) sighed as she looked out at the field they were currently stopped in. Her eyes found Groot, Rocket, and Drax off on their own by a small pile of stones. Nebula was just out of earshot, lying face up in the grass, more than likely enjoying the soft breeze rolling over her. Peter was a small walk down from the hill, occasionally tossing rocks into the pond. The glow of the setting sun making him look more beautiful than before. 

“It’s not that, Mantis. I love him, but he put himself in danger today, for me of all people. He’s lucky they didn’t kill him. He’s such an idiot sometimes.” (Y/N) rambled, pulling her knees to her chest. “If anything had happened to him today, I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself.” 

“You should talk to him.” Mantis suggested, tilting her head to stare (Y/N) down. “Maybe it would help the both of you, because I know he loves you too.” 

(Y/N)’s head snapped up to look at Mantis, who simply sat and smiled. Her heart raced in her chest as her head whipped back down to Peter. A blush crept its way up her cheeks as she thought about it. In love? The playboy of the galaxy? Silently, she stood and slowly made her way down the hill. She stopped a few feet away from him, nausea hitting her stomach hard. 

“It’s not nice to creep up on people, darlin’.” Peter spoke, turning his head to look at her, signature smirk gracing his face. (Y/N)’s face flushed and she rolled her eyes, taking a seat next to him. The pair sat in silence, watching the sky turn a pink-orange color. 

“What you did today was stupid.” She spoke, breaking the silence. “I don’t care if I was in danger, you focus on the mission.” 

Peter’s head turned to look at her, extending a hand towards hers. She pulled her hand away, setting it in her lap. Swallowing hard, she lifted her gaze to his. 

“I did what I had to do, and I would do it again.” 

“No, you did what you wanted to do. It was reckless. You focus on the mission, not me.” She huffed, turning her body towards him. “Don’t fucking do that shit again. If I had been hurt and hadn’t been able to cover your ass, you’d be dead.” 

Peter groaned and rubbed his face with one of his hands. “Sweetheart, I think you’re being a bit dramatic there. I’ve been doin this thing a lot longer, I can handle my own.” 

“And I can’t?” Her voice raised. “Don’t ever call me dramatic for not wanting to bury your dumbass early!” 

“I was fine! I could handle it, drop the attitude.” 

“No, you don’t get to fucking get to tell me what-” 

“I said drop the attitude.” Peter spoke, cutting the girl off. (Y/N) fell silent as she stared at him. “I’m going to say this one more time. I did what I had to do. If you were in danger right this second, I wouldn’t hesitate to do it again.”

“Peter.” (Y/N)’s eyes closed as she fought to calm herself down. “You mean so much to me, t-to everyone, I mean. That’s why I can’t let you do that.”

“That sounded like a confession.” He joked, leaning back on his hands. “Are you trying to tell me somethin’?” 

“I-I’m trying to be serious!” She stuttered, head whipping away from him. 

“You aren’t denying the confession, sweets.” He hummed, eyes flicking over her obviously flustered frame. “If it makes you feel better, I feel the same way about you. Well, about everyone.” 

“You’re such a child.” 

“I prefer man child.” 

“Peter.” 

Silence fell over them again as the sun finished setting. (Y/N) looked back up towards the hill, finding the others gone. The cool night air brushed her skin, making her shift closer to the man beside her. He smiled down at her, sitting up to shrug his jacket off. 

“Here, can’t have you getting sick on us.” Peter helped her slip the jacket on. “Looks good on you.” 

“I’m sorry for yelling at you earlier. I-I know you did what’s best and I shouldn’t have been ungrateful. You risked your life for me. Thank you.” 

Peter’s hand cupped her face, a light blush covered his own. “I would do it again in a heartbeat. I will always be here to protect you, even if you don’t need it. I love you.” 

“I love you too, Quill.” She whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. She pulled back, tightening the jacket around her body. “Can we continue this discussion on the ship? It’s cold.” 

Peter nods, rising to his feet and helping the girl to her own. His hand rested against her lower back as they walked back, once again a peaceful silence filling the night air. A soft ‘love you’ slipping from Peter as he moved his hand, allowing her to board before him. 

[gloriousburden]

I agree with your take on Mobius so much! People treat him like a cinnamon roll. Which he isn't. He is a horrible person but no one wants to acknowledge that. Sylvie is terrible too, but at least people acknowledge her flaws which is something I guess. Oh, and I had watched season 2 of Loki series, and Mobius was so ooc in the first episode. Like, he randomly went from torturing and manipulating and gaslighting Loki to suddenly risking his life for Loki. It made me wanna throw up. I have never seen such a random 180° turn. Extremely ooc. And Lokius shippers eat that shit up. Like, I don't know whether you have watched Season 2 or not, but there's a scene where Mobius volunteers to do something extremely risky to save Loki. And yeah, I don't believe that crap at all. Tomorrow they might suddenly show Thanos risking his life for Loki too. I think season 2 episode 1 should have came with an OOC warning attached lol.

Have a great day! ❤️

Unfortunately, I have watched all of the series. I may talk about Lokius shippers a lot, but Sylki shippers (though there’s only like… two of them nowadays) have the same issue that Lokius shippers have. They only acknowledge the flaws of the character from the opposite ship, and not the flaws of the character they ship with Loki. Sylvie fans hate Mobius, Mobius fans hate Sylvie. There’s issues with both characters! Are you kidding me?

YES EXACTLY. He was very OOC… I guess he got some kind of “redemption”/“change of heart” or some shit behind the scenes. Why do you suddenly love Loki so much? Of course the shippers eat it up. They’d eat literal garbage if it was orange color coded with grey hair, and green color coded with black hair or played by Tom/Owen.

Nothing towards either actors BTW hope it doesn’t come off as that. I mean this towards the fans, not the actors!

It’s just… these aren’t even the same characters anymore. That’s not even Loki! And Mobius, though I have no love for him, isn’t even himself anymore. The writing is so fucking inconsistent not only with Loki, but with EVERYONE.

Yep. I do know what you’re talking about. Why so lovey dovey and knight in shining armor all of a sudden? Why would he suddenly risk his life for someone he threw into a time loop to get physically assaulted without a second thought? Oh why cause they hugged so it’s okay now? 🤦🏻‍♀️

Look, if Mobius had apologized or even acknowledged his previous behaviors, then I wouldn’t be so freaked out by the way the fandom treats him or the OOC-ness (because obviously they’re gonna let shit slide for a mediocre ship) But… NONE OF THAT HAPPENED! Think I spoke about this in one of my last posts but so many Loki “fans” TRULY believe Loki needs to be humbled. That’s why they don’t bat an eye at the abuse coming from Mobius. As well as them being eager to excuse absolutely anything in order to not ship the “straight” ship.

It’s getting really weird. Some of them want Lokius to be canon just because “Ooh gay ship” and not because they really believe Loki and Mobius go along well together and they’re opposites attract and one’s a god one’s a human and so on. Whatever tropes you can throw in there.

And Lokius fans pretending to be so much more morally superior/holier than thou for being against Sylki because of the selfcest shit… YOU EXCUSE MOBIUS VERBALLY DEMEANING LOKI AND HAVING HIM BE PHYSICALLY ASSAULTED… HOW IS THAT BETTER?! This is like the pot calling the kettle black. Like I’ve said before, If Mobius was female.. People would hate his guts! And the amount of people shipping Lokius would be so, so much lower. And they’d actually see the flaws of the show.

Hope this does not sound like me trying to defend Sylki/Sylvie in anyway, Both are HORRIBLE, bottom of the barrel, and garbage ships. Sylvie’s writing/actions are not excused just because she’s female. It’s just Lokius shippers are more prevalent, therefore more annoying to me. And for some reason, Lokius shippers tend to be a lot more immature. I think because they’re usually younger than Sylki shippers.

I understand people want representation, but there are so many ships that have been done better. You don’t need to grasp for straws just because you only now learned that Loki is bisexual!

THE THANOS POINT LOLLLLLLL EXACTLY. That cracked me up, I won’t lie. I wouldn’t be surprised if that became a thing. They’re just so desperate to ship anyone and everyone! Can we think critically about these characters/movies/series for one moment?

Thank you! You too ❤️

[chaotic-on-main]

on to the nextttt

Matcha green tea! (also that was a fantastic flavor for Levi). With Fresh Fruit. Let’s do another pre-established relationship because I literally only like those for myself apparently 😂.

For scenario: Close to his canon personality if you can but the setting is AU. How about Levi and I are at a party and I’ve gotten a little buzzed and am being super teasy to him(like slight brushes against him and shit) and he drags me home and the rest is suggestive obv not any real smut :) lemme know if you don’t like that and I’ll change it lmao.

Order up!! One matcha green tea with fresh fruit for Bee!!

Sky's Summer and 250 Follower Event!

☾ Pairing ➼ Levi Ackerman x fem!Reader

☾ Content/Warnings ➼ modernAU, collegeAU, drinking, alcohol, suggestive themes, suggestive terminology, proofread once pls forgive any mistakes, MDNI

☾ A/N ➼ Hi Bee!! Thank you so much for sending in a request. I will admit, I am taking way too long so now some of these requests are going to take place in early-mid fall lmao. I'm so sorry. But I had a lot of fun writing this and I hope you like it!! Suggestive is still so hard for me so this was a fun challenge, as always. Who knows, maybe I can continue on with this if I feel inspired. Anyways, happy first of October y'all!!

☾ Word Count ➼ ~2.2k

Levi doesn't know how he always finds himself in these predicaments. One moment he's hunched over his desk, looking over his notecards for his upcoming exam – the next he's being physically dragged away by his tiresome roommate to a Halloween party down the road that he had already said no to.

Now, he’s leaning against a wall, red cup in hand, with his hood up and a black face mask covering his nose and mouth – white face paint smeared across his pallid face in the pattern of a skull thanks to Hange's last minute demands.

“It's a Halloween party for heaven's sake, you need to look the part!” They had exclaimed after pulling him out of his room with makeup brushes in hand.

The mask was there because he wouldn't dare risk getting sick before his test, but it also gave him a reason to cover up so no one would bother him. Of course he wouldn't be so lucky as he feels someone slide up next to him. Eyes narrowed, he glares over to the unwelcome visitor and as his gaze falls upon you, his eyes soften considerably.

He'd see you around campus, catching his eyes from time to time. It wasn't until recently that you both started interacting with each other due the classic literature class you both share this semester.

You have only spoken to each other a handful of times, outside of the glances shared and the kind smiles you would offer him in passing. Most conversations were about school work or small talk that he would mainly grunt back at. Despite the short quips he gave you, you never pushed or pulled away. Now here you were, smiling up at him as the multicolor strobe lights hit your face.

“Levi? I never thought I'd see you at one of these!” You half-shout over the pulsing pop music blaring from the speakers around the two of you.

Eyes bright and soft cheeks painted pink, they were pulled back into a genuine smile pointed straight at Levi. You were dressed in much less clothing than he's used to seeing you in. Gone were the jeans and loose-knit sweaters – now replaced by a black frilly strapless dress adorned with a small white apron wrapped around your waist. The collar curves low enough to show your cleavage, tightly pushed together by the thin black cloth.

His eyes travel down if only for a second to see how short the dress really was – ending right underneath your butt. The bottom hugged your curves, squeezing your waist and hips perfectly. Underneath was a pair of black fishnet stockings and heels, making you barely at eye level with Levi. Frilled cuffs wrap around your wrists in the same style of the choker that sits flush against your neck.

You're dressed as a maid.

His eyes snap back up to see that your hair falls around your shoulders topped with a little headband. There are hints of lipgloss leftover from the many times your lips caressed the ridges of a plastic cup. But that flush on your cheeks was not from your makeup.

“Hellllooo??” You wave a hand in front of Levi's face to get his attention.

“I am.” He responds back cooly, tone contradictory to the thoughts racing through his mind.

“I knew it! Your brooding gray eyes are striking even from across the room.” A light giggle leaves your soft lips. “What are you doing here? I thought you'd be studying for Tuesday's exam.”

“I was. My roommate dragged me here.”

“The Levi Ackerman bent to someone's will? Well, I'll be.” You tease, smile tugging at your lips, before taking another sip of the mysterious liquid in your cup. Levi does the same, feeling the burn of the liquor he had poured when he first got here.

“Tch. Shouldn't you be studying? You struggled with your analysis on Odyssey and that's definitely showing up on the test.”

“Aw, you care! If you must know, I took your suggestions to heart and did that 'note taking after every paragraph' thing you do. Some things are still a little fuzzy but I have a much better grasp on it! So, thank you.” Another wide smile from you causes butterflies to dance in his stomach.

“Yeah. Sure.”

Levi never afforded himself time to think of a relationship. Sure, he's had his share of hookups before; he wasn't always glued to his books and knew how to release stress from time to time. But he never thought anything past that one night and moved on with his life without issue. It wasn't because he was being intentionally callous though, most women that sought his company only wanted him by his looks alone – who was he if not willing to return the favor.

But you gave him something others could not – comfort in knowing that you talked to him as a person and not a pretty face. And while he never made a move to further anything with you, he did find himself wanting to be near you as much as he could bear.

“What are you even supposed to be?” Your lips purse as your eyes scan Levi’s slim frame. Your fingers reach up and pinche the fabric of his jacket as you pull yourself closer to get a better look of his face still darkened by the shadows of his hood. You're not close enough to press up against him, but you might as well have as you only left an inch or so between you both. Your eyes bounce around his face as she makes sense of the quickly applied makeup. If he leaned down just a bit, he could…

“No idea. Hange, the roommate I mentioned, did it.” He clears his throat quietly, eyes glancing away from yours. You pull away finally, but your fingers still remain on his sleeve. You're not directly touching him, but it's enough to send tingles through his body. Levi chalks it up to it being a while since he's been touched by someone.

“It looks good on you, like you're a bandit ready to steal or something.” Your tinkling laughter makes Levi's ears twitch in a good way. “I'm happy to see you out of the classroom, Levi.”

“I-"

“Oh! My friend is waving me over. Hold this for a second.” You say, handing your drink over to him. He watches as you tug your dress up that must have slid down a bit. When you do, his eyes can't help but glance down to the slight bounce of your plush chest. The way your perfume permeates his senses as you move around the little space you both share and it intoxicates him – or was it the alcohol? He hadn't had that much.

“Okay, I'm good to go.” When you reach over to take the half-empty cup from Levi's fingers, yours brush against his ever so slightly. His heart leaps at your warm touch. “I'll see you around?”

You give Levi a long look before smiling brightly and turning tail towards a redhead who was currently staring hard at him. His gaze was far from your friend though because with your back to him now, he sees that the costume is much shorter than he initially assumed.

His eyes don't leave you for a bit, watching you double over in laughter at something your friend said. There's a moment where your eyes meet again, holding each other's gaze until your friend says something else and you're back to laughing. Outside of the classroom, you were very different. There were a lot of things he didn't know about you. Perhaps that's something he wouldn't mind delving into if given the chance.

“Dude she's so into you.” A voice rings out from next to Levi, their words slightly slurred from the many drinks they had consumed throughout the night.

“Shut up, four eyes.”

“I mean it. She's so smitten with you. Didn't you see the way she was looking at you? There are hearts in her eyes! Those glances, the unassuming touches. Levi Ackerman, c'mon! I wasn't born yesterday.” Levi turns to the source of the noise. Hange Zoe, a bioengineering major who he shared the same apartment with for years, is giving Levi the biggest shit-eating grin they can muster.

“And you like her too, don't you.”

Their usual frazzled brunette hair is even frizzier to match the mad-scientist costume they were going for, held down by a pair of safety goggles that wrap around their head. Hange had made Levi swear on his life not to tell Professor Vitch that they had ‘borrowed' one of the lab coats for it – not like Levi cared enough to say anything anyways. He doesn't understand how Hange could even give it back now that it's tattered and ruined with self-made burn marks.

“Whatever.”

“You've never mentioned her before, why not? I thought I was your bestest friend in the whole world.”

“Acquaintances. And it doesn't pertain to you.”

“That hurts, we’ve known each other for 5 years.” Hange gives a fake pout. As their gaze flits back over to you, they mutter, “If I were you, I wouldn't let this chance slip away. You'll just regret it.” And with that, Hange yells something to a mutual friend and runs over to him – leaving Levi to his devices once again.

His eyes go back to where you were just moments ago and he catches you shooting him another smile before getting lost in the crowd with your friend. This smile held something that wasn't there before, the same matching emotion that fill your eyes.

Regret was not something he sat well with. Before he knows it, he's pushing himself off the wall and heading towards the direction you had disappeared in.

It takes a bit of searching and asking around much to his disdain. Eventually, he finds you outside on the front porch alone, sitting on the stairs with your back to him. Your hair is pulled up in a messy ponytail and from the way you’re lifting your arm up, he can tell you still have a drink in hand. When he shuts the door behind him, he notices you don't even look back.

“Tired of the people, too?” Levi asks as he sits down on the step next to you, practically shoulder to shoulder. He doesn't miss the way you flinched at his sudden voice, you turning quickly to face him.

“Oh jeez, Levi. I almost punched you.” You place your hand flat against your chest in hopes to slow your racing heart.

“Wouldn't be the first time someone threatened that.”

“I can't imagine why.” You sigh, but then a smirk pulls on your lips as you start to relax. “Yeah, it's just getting to be too much. I think I may head out here soon.” You take another sip of your drink before realizing it's mostly gone and instead, you tip it all the way back and down it all in one gulp.

You stand up soon after, your ass on full display for him to see from his position. The way you bend forward a bit to brush off your dress is almost a little too much for Levi. Your cheeky panties peek out at him, causing that knee-jerk reaction of such a visual to twitch in his jeans. Realization of what Hange was trying to tell him earlier dawns on him.

Regret was not something he liked to feel.

Levi stands up quickly and grabs your wrist in tight fingers before pulling you to face him. There's visible shock on your face at the brazen action, but you don't pull away. He gives you a moment, a chance to turn him down and leave without looking back. You don't. Instead, you coyly smile up at him, eyebrow raised.

With that, he tugs you closer and his lips meet yours in a hard kiss. Behind the bubblegum lipgloss, he tastes the artificial fruit from the drinks you've had tonight. You mirror the same hunger as Levi does, as if you had waited for this for months. You throw your arms around his neck as you press yourself against him, your fingers sliding up into his hair as his hands make their way to your waist – holding you there.

What feels like mere seconds pass before Levi has to break away for air. There's a moment where you’re both just staring at each other. Partly from shock but also uncertainty of where to go next. You're the first to speak.

“There's um, something I need help with on the study guide. But it's back at my place.”

“I can help with that.” Levi answers back cooly, almost too quick but he didn't care.

You don't hesitate to close your fingers over his and tug him into the direction of your place, almost running like the little kids that swarm the street as they trick or treat.

tagging for my levi girlies (from my taglist!): @humanitys-strongest-bamf @romantichomicide95 @youre-ackermine @roseofdarknessblog @missamity @levis-squishy-cheeks @icansmellsouls @dkbktk420 @elnyrae @secretmoneybearvoid @apolloshaiku @sujiroses @jadam724 @e-riellaaa @kamyru @highgoon69 @missyasma @kingkonoha @sckerman @notgoodforlife @nube55 @svftackerman @velouria17 @melodyuzumaki

if you are not part of my taglist and would like to be, please fill out my form!

[shsy7573]

Something

A Voltron Fanfiction by shsy7573 a langst addict

Description: As torturous as a war with the Galra is, it’s nothing compared to the constant mockery from inside Lance’s mind. When the team partakes in a training exercise designed to help them confront their insecurities, and grow closer as a team, Lance knows he’s screwed. No way they’ll want him around once they see how pathetic he really is. Will our favourite Blue Paladin be able to hide his misery, from the team, or will he break, and reveal to the team just how much he hates himself?

Info: Langst. Hurt/comfort. Original Paladins. Tbh this is probably one of my weaker fics. It’s not really descriptive. Mainly just focused on the feelings. Nonetheless, I’ve always enjoyed rereading it because of the concept.

Relationships: Klance, but it’s mild. Barely there.

Note: Tumblr kinda jacked up the formatting. I seriously need to get myself an AO3 account, but writing for that site intimidates me for whatever reason.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lance scanned the battlefield, his heart pumping rapidly as the supposedly easygoing mission went off the rails. They had planned to take over a small, low activity Galra base to try and find more information on what Zarkon and his people were planning. Unfortunately, this “low activity” base ended up being extremely more well defended than they’d thought.

There were Galra ships everywhere, spread out across the sky like a giant beehive. The Paladins were swamped, and the Castle of Lions had been forced to draw back for risk of colossal damage. With all the chaos, there was no opportunity to converge and form Voltron. Each Paladin was, for the most part, on their own.

And Lance was drowning.

He veered swiftly to the left as a Galra ship charged him from behind. Kieth flew by at the exact same time, and if it had been anyone other than The Red Paladin, there would have been a collision. Kieth banked up, and Lance just had time to shoot a laser at the ship tailing him before he and his lion ran face first into the debris.

“Watch it, Lance!” Kieth spat, and Lance cringed.

“Sorry!” He yelled.

There wasn’t enough time to dwell on it though, because the ship that had been on Lance had recovered from the Blue Paladin’s change in course, and was shooting at him again.

Lance groaned, trying to dodge around the lasers, taking one or two hits to the back. He yelled, his heart jumping as another squadron of battleships came at him from the front. Reacting fast, he sent Blue into a barrel roll, hoping the Galra ships would collide.

Fortunately, they did. Unfortunately, so did he and Pidge. The Green Lion, who apparently had been chasing the Galra ships, met the Blue Lion head on, both going at full speed and sending the Paladins into a tailspin.

“Lance, what the hell?!” Pidge yelled as they both regained control.

Lance chastised himself inwardly.

“Sorry Pidge!”

His mind was screaming at him. Way to go, fuck up!

“Lance! Look out!”

He looked up to see a Galra ship as it powered up a blaster. With how close it was, he should have already seen it.

Shiro flew by in the Black Lion, slicing through the ship with his jaw blade and putting it out of commission.

“Lance! You need to pay attention!”

“Sorry!” He said for probably the 10th time since the start of the battle.

What is wrong with you? Get your head in the game! You can’t even-

His thoughts were interrupted as he was once again forced to bank out of the way of a Galra ship. Sadly, he was too slow to react, and as he swerved upwards a beam of purple light collided with Blue’s underbelly. Lance screamed as he was jostled around in his seat, trying to regain control as another beam hit him on his left.

So now you can’t even fly? What are you doing?! I thought Paladins were supposed to be expert pilots!

“Lance!” Someone yelled as he tried and failed to gain control of Blue. More and more Galra ships getting hits in on his Lion.

Useless piece of shit! They all know it!

“Lance, control yourself!”

“Someone needs to help him!”

“There’s too many of them!”

“Fall back!”

Before he knew it, Hunk and his lion had grabbed hold of Blue and were pulling Lance out of the battlefield. The others joined up with them, and Lance felt tears welling up in his eyes.

As the Galra fleet fell away from view, Lance was able to retake control of his lion. Hunk let go, and they made their way back to the castle. Mission failed.

“Lance, what was going on out there?” Kieth asked, ever the hothead. Lance didn’t reply, only lifting his gloved hand to whisk away his tears. His mind was screaming at him.

You can’t fly for shit, that’s what! You think they’re gonna want you around after that debacle? I’m surprised it took you this long royally fuck. They’re gonna see it now! You’re not fit to be a Paladin!

—

They arrived back at the Castle of Lions, and for a couple minutes all Lance could do was pull off his helmet and just… sit there. Unable to bear the looks of utter disappointment on his teammates' faces. Unable to face the resentment.

Then he heard Shiro’s voice over the coms.

“Post-mission briefing on the bridge.”

Lance sighed, and finally forced himself out of Blue’s seat. He dragged himself to the control room, trying to stay as far back and out of sight as possible.

Shiro began speaking, but Lance could hardly hear him over the scrutiny going on in his own brain.

You don’t belong here! You know it. They know it. They’d be better off without you.

“Guys, this can’t happen again. We cannot lose our heads in a time of crisis. If we’re going to win against the Galra, we need to work harder. Not just individually, but as a team. We were completely divided out there, and we kept getting in each other’s way.”

Lance looked down, mainly me. He was certain that’s what everyone was thinking. He bit his lip, trying his damndest not to cry.

“We’ve been focusing on training our bodies, but I think we’ve been neglecting to focus on the most important part of Voltron: our minds. Our connection to ourselves, our lions and to each other is what powers Voltron, farther than any of our individual skills.”

Like anyone would want to connect with you. You’re the problem, you always have been. They’ll turn on you one day, and you’ll deserve it. Maybe you should just speed up the process. Get out of their lives before they come to hate you on their own. But you won’t, you’re too weak. Too cowardly to face the reality of that decision. Too selfish to give up your friendships for the universe.

“Lance!” A voice cut through the noise. Lance looked up to see Shiro staring at him.

“Are you even listening?”

They hate you.

“I, uh- yeah.” He could feel his skin crawling at all the eyes on him.

“Then what did I say?”

“Voltron is powered by our minds, or something.” It was the last thing he remembered.

The irritated muttering around the room caused him to assume he’d guessed wrong.

“Lance, I need you to be paying attention when I’m talking.”

Lance sighed, looking back down at his feet, “sorry.”

Had he been looking up, he’d have seen the slight edge of concern in The Black Paladin’s gaze before he continued. “Anyways… what I was saying is that tomorrow afternoon we’ll meet on the training deck to go through some mental team building exercises. I’m sure Coran has a few ideas.”

Lance nodded, but kept his gaze trained on the ground.

You’ll probably fuck it up, like you do everything.

“That I do. Don’t you worry Shiro, I’ll get it sorted.”

Lance looked up just enough to see Shiro nod. “In that case, you’re all dismissed.”

Lance turned, and headed out of the control room. His mind swimming with self ridicule. He could feel the tears threatening to fill his eyes. The days’ failures replaying over and over again in his mind.

Idiot. Useless. Screw up everything.

Suddenly, he felt a hand grab him by the arm, pulling him back slightly and forcing him to stop.

“Lance, wait.”

The Blue Paladin looked up to see Shiro gazing at him curiously.

“Is… everything alright?”

No. Lance forced a grin, “of course! Why wouldn't it be?”

“I just… you seem… distracted.”

Lance shook his head, forcing his smile to become even brighter. “I’m fine. I promise. See you in training tomorrow!”

He pulled his arm free, and began to walk (a little too quickly) to his room.

As soon as the door closed, he collapsed on the ground. Tears spilled out of his eyes. What was he doing here? He was no Paladin? He had no place here. Nobody here wanted him around, he was just their only option. If they had anyone else to fly Blue, they’d take them in an instant. Anyone would be better than you!

“Fucking useless,” he whimpered to himself, burying his head in his knees.

“All I do is mess things up.”

“I’m an idiot.”

“No one wants me around.”

“I’m…”

He trailed off, his throat closing up as he voiced his darkest thoughts to the empty room. Sobs racked his body. He sat there, back pressed against the door, letting tears spill down his face. Crying at the truth of it all. That he was the problem, he was the weak link. All he brought to the team was bad jokes and annoyance.

He had no special skills.

No special purpose.

He was nothing special.

He was just nothing.

—

The next day, Lance woke up as he usually did. Early. With a skip in his step, a smile on his face, and a silent prayer that today wouldn’t be the day that the mask slipped. That today wouldn’t be the day they saw how useless he really was.

He went to breakfast with the team. Pidge was still a little irritated at him for running into her. Kieth was broody, as usual. Hunk and Coran were happy. Shiro and Allura were focused.

Lance, as usual, was cracking jokes to try and lighten the mood. To try and drown out the voice in his head. To try and fein cheerfulness.

And the others, as usual, we’re not having any of it.

“Lance, can you shut up for five minutes so that we can eat in peace?!” Pidge snapped. “I swear it’s like you’re trying to piss me off.”

Lance smiled brighter on the outside, but on the inside, his mind screamed.

“Aw, did the Pigeon wake up on the wrong side of the bed?” He teased, and she grumbled, turning away.

He saw Keith roll his eyes, and heard him muttering under his breath.

You can’t let up can you? If you’re not royally screwing up a mission, you’re annoying the shit out of everyone.

But he would rather annoy them into not paying attention than allow them to see how worthless he was.

Selfish? Probably. But, he couldn’t help it.

Besides, if Pidge was angry he’d rather she take it out on him than the rest of the team. Unlike the rest of them, he deserved it.

—

And then the afternoon rolled around. Lance headed for the training deck, something akin to apprehension churning in his gut.

Come on Lance, afraid of a training session? A Paladin should be better than that.

He steeled himself, and entered the training deck.

Everyone else was already there. Lance couldn’t help chastising himself for that. Even though he wasn’t late, he was last. He’d kept them waiting.

“Has Coran said what we’re doing yet?” He asked, banishing the thoughts aside. If today was meant to train his mind, to connect them, he had to keep his negativity as far away as possible.

They all shook their heads as he reached the group.

“No, I haven’t even seen him since this morning,” Pidge said. Lance was glad to see that she seemed less aggressive now. Maybe a bit of time to wake up had calmed her temper at his previous fuck-upery.

Not that she’d be wrong to still be pissed.

Lance smiled wider.

Just then, Coran entered the room, holding a mass of technology in his arms.

“I’m here! I’m here! Sorry, I’d hoped to have this all set up before you arrived but—“

“It’s okay, Coran. We’re not in a rush.” Shiro assured.

Hunk smiled and walked over, “need some help?”

Pidge joined her friend as Coran nodded and they began setting up, the Altean telling Pidge and Hunk how to hook everything up.

Why didn’t you offer to help? Useless.

But then his own mind fired back.

You’re too stupid to help with something like this. It’s too complicated.

Lance resisted the urge to wince, refusing to let his expressions betray his inner rebuke. So far he wasn’t doing a very great job at keeping negativity out of training.

Then again, you never could do anything right.

He was grateful as Hunk, Pidge and Coran finished setting up. It meant he’d have something else to focus on.

His dreams of distraction were crushed as Coran began to explain the exercise.

“Today's exercise will be all about overcoming your mental barriers. In combat, you need to be completely open with each other, and having blockades and hidden insecurities can distract you from working as a cohesive whole. Today, the team will be given the chance to travel into each Paladin’s mindscape. Not actually, of course, mind travel is very dangerous and can more often than not lead to disastrous consequences. That’s where all this technology comes in. This will simulate a sort of virtual landscape for you all to traverse through. It should still be accurate, but it will prevent any serious harm coming to any of you.”

Lance’s stomach somersaulted. Travelling… into his mind… to face his insecurities?!

No way they’ll want you around after this.

Lance took a deep breath. Maybe he could worm his way out of it. Maybe he could delay, and they would run out of time and not get to him. Maybe he could fake illness closer to his turn. The healing pods didn’t cure sickness so he’d just be sent back to his room to rest.

They were feeble wishes, but a boy can dream.

—

Unfortunately for Lance, they did have time for him. All day, dread had been clawing at his chest, and he’d taken every possible opportunity to have someone else go first.

But… he couldn’t put it off any longer. He had really considered faking a migraine or some shit, but if any of them found out they’d think he was being lazy. Or worse, they’d question why he wanted out so close to his turn anyways.

They’d been through Shiro’s mindscape. Forcing him to confront his fears and regrets about his time with the Galra, and helping him accept that it was all just survival. The Galran prisoner he used to be was running purely off instinct, and the Shiro they knew would never be so callous. They also helped him wrestle with the guilt and pain of leaving Adam behind.

They’d been through Pidge’s mindscape. Helping to quell her fears about not being able to find her parents. They’d sworn they would help her, and do whatever it took to get Matt and her father back.

They’d been through Hunk’s mindscape. Helping him through all the anxieties and fears that had taken hold of him over his years at the Garrison, and now in space. They’d consoled him by telling him that he was brave. That it was okay to be scared. And that he would never be alone.

They’d gone through Keith’s mindscape. Begrudgingly, he’d admitted to his feelings of lostness. How he wanted to feel a sense of self, and get to know who he was and where he came from. They’d told him they would help in whatever way they could, but that at the end of the day ‘who he was’ depended solely on him. Not who his parents were. They’d even gone as far as to say Voltron could be his family if he let it.

And now… now Lance had to go.

And he was terrified.

Coward! Afraid of what they might find? Afraid they’ll see how worthless their Blue Paladin really is?!

He felt a hand on his shoulder and he stared at the mindscape device in his hands. He looked up at Shiro, who smiled down at him.

“We’re right here with you.” He assured.

Lance smiled.

But for how long?

He pushed the voice away, pushed everything away. All his thoughts, feelings and emotions.

Then, he put on the device, and closed his eyes. The world around him melted away, and when he reopened his eyes, he found himself standing on a beach. The ground beneath him which he knew technically shouldn’t, felt soft. Having been through several mindscapes by now, he was used to the strange faux sensations they caused. Making it seem like you were actually there.

He looked around as the other Paladins faded in, and took in their surroundings.

Finally, it was Pidge who asked, “where are we?”

Lance smiled as he spotted a house on the hill, not far from the beachfront.

“My home.”

—

They made their way up the hill, Lance making absolutely certain that everything they saw was what he wanted them to see. Keeping the nasty voice that haunted his conscious locked behind the walls of this fabricated world.

Okay, fabricated wasn’t exactly the best word. This was all still very real. It was just something he was more comfortable showing the team. Something understandable. Something sweet. Something wholesome.

Something better to the alternative. Something easier.

They reached the house, and Lance grinned as he saw his little niblings playing in the front yard. Rolling around the grass, wrestling over a yellow toy truck.

They didn’t see him though, nor did they see the other Paladins. At the end of the day, they were just spectators to a virtual reality. They weren’t actually in Lance’s mind, and thus, couldn’t interact.

“Aww, they’re so cute! Who are they?” Pidge said, cooing as they drew nearer.

“Those are my niece and nephew.” He said, smiling fondly. He’d missed them so much. He’d missed them all so much.

Almost as if his mind was reflecting this, the house seemed to pull away, just slightly. Not quite letting the Paladins reach it.

Lance frowned.

“Woah… what was that?” Hunk asked, looking at Lance.

“I’m… not sure,” he admitted.

He could feel the fringes of his paradise shudder as an insult tried to break through. He didn’t let it. He couldn’t. Not with the Paladins watching.

But he could see their unease as the trembling surrounding the area scape passed.

Fortunately, his mother emerged from the house before they had time to question it.

She began spewing how she missed him, and he felt tears prick his eyes.

Each time they got close to the house it shifted away again. Pretty soon they caught on.

Homesickness. Homesickness was the barrier he was choosing to show the Paladins. The guilt for leaving his family behind. It was one he found much easier to bear. One he felt they would understand and accept.

And they did.

They comforted him, and told him it was okay to miss home.

And he thought, just for a moment he thought he’d done it.

He’d really done something right. He hadn’t fucked it up.

“Is this why you were so distracted yesterday? In the battle? You were missing your family?” Shiro asked.

Lance nodded.

And then the voice came rushing in, faster than he could stop it.

A venomous, icy echo twisted around them, filling up the atmosphere.

Liar!

He forced it back, but it was too late. The Paladins were looking around, frightened and confused.

“What was that?” Pidge exclaimed.

Shit.

“I- I don’t know…” he said, his voice dejected. But he found lying much harder in the midst of his panic.

“Lance. What aren’t you telling us?” Keith demanded.

Then it happened. A sharp sound drew Lance’s eyes to the ground, where a crack was beginning to spread beneath his feet.

“What the hell’s happening?!”

“Lance! What’s going on?!”

He couldn’t think. He couldn’t speak. He was frozen. Fear was creeping through his veins, sending a wind rushing through the mindscape.

A Paladin. Afraid of his own brain.

Pathetic!

More cracks. He closed his eyes, and tried to shove the voice away.

There was still time, still an opportunity to hide this, to get past this. He could do this.

“Lance!”

He looked up. Everyone looked scared. He was making them scared. And this was just the surface. No way he could let them see the full force of it!

Nobody would want you around then.

The voice crackled in the wind around them, sharp as a knife, but also sweet as honey. A perfect tone of intoxicating mockery. One that had haunted him for years.

Shards were beginning to fall away, revealing a world of empty blackness, and Lance was panicking.

How disappointing. Paladins aren’t supposed to panic.

“Lance, Lance it’s okay! Just breath buddy. Tell us what’s happening. We can help you!” Shiro assured.

They’ll hate you.

“We won’t!” Hunk tried to reassure, reaching out a hand.

And then the world fell away. The cracks gave way and Lance was falling. Falling. Falling. Falling. Away from the hill. Away from Cuba. Away from his little paradise.

And down

Down

Down

Into the bitter darkness.

Into the truth.

Into the nothing.

—

Lance inhaled sharply, his breath echoing all around him. All he could see was darkness. Darkness above, darkness below and darkness all around. Yet somehow, he was standing on solid ground. He tapped his feet curiously, a faint ringing echoing at the back of his mind. Like when you listen to the silence for too long.

Then he turned around, and found the other Paladins facing him.

His heart lurched. They were here… with him. Dios what has he done?!

“Lance… what- what is this?” Hunk asked, looking at his friend in deep confusion. Concern etched his expression.

“I- I don’t know…”

You never know! Came the voice. Harsher and clearer than it had on the beach house. Pounding in his head and vibrating in his skull.

He turned to see the faint outline of a person against the darkness. Inches from his face. It shoved him with a hiss, that’s the problem!

“Lance!” Keith started forward, sword in hand, but a voice interrupted him.

Are you gonna let him fight your battles?!

Another grey figure appeared in front of Keith, blocking Lance’s view of the Red Paladin.

I thought Paladins were supposed to be strong?!

Another figure appeared to the right of Lance.

But you were never much of a Paladin to begin with, were you?

Lance backed away. He closed his eyes and shook his head, begging it to stop.

Why? Why should we stop? Can’t handle the truth?

“Lance! Lance, it's okay! Look at me!” That was Shiro’s voice. It sounded so far away. Lance looked up to see the other Paladins, slowly disappearing behind a mob of grey.

They pity you.

You think any of them actually want you around.

Something latched onto his arm, digging its claws into his flesh.

After all you’ve done? After everything you’ve messed up?

Images of the earlier fight flickered all around them. Then it was all the fights before. All the times he’d done something wrong.

You’re a screw up, Lance! You don’t deserve to be a Paladin.

Lance was being dragged down. Dragged down by thousands of latching hands. Swarming and smothering him. Suffocating him in his own greatest faults. His biggest insecurities.

And he was faintly aware of the other Paladins screaming for him.

They were seeing all of this.

He hadn’t wanted them to.

Did you really think you could keep this from them? That they wouldn’t find out how weak you are?

How useless you are?

You’re stupider than I thought.

And that’s saying something.

Tears pricked his eyes as more claws dug into his flesh, ripping and tearing as he tried to fight them off.

Nobody wants you around!

I’d say go back home, but I doubt they’d want you either!

More hostile, hungry claws stretched from the crowd, latching onto his skin and screaming in his ears. Lance cried as the claws dug into his skin, but his voice was drowned out by the icy, honeysuckle tone of the never ending voice.

Pathetic

Weak

Selfish asshole

Can’t even deny it.

Lance curled in on himself, tears flowing down his cheeks and sobs racking his body. Surely they would all hate him now, after seeing all this. After seeing what a mess he really was.

Can’t even fight back?

You were never meant to be a Paladin!

You don’t belong here!

You’re just a cargo pilot!

Nothing to offer!

You’re not special!

Pain raked his body as he felt himself being torn apart. In the back of his mind he wondered how they were touching him. Coran said they wouldn’t be able to. But of course, Lance always did seem to do the impossible when it came to screwing up.

They would be better off without you and you know it!

There’s so many better options to pilot the Blue Lion.

Shame they had to settle for you.

He tried not to listen. Tried so hard.

You’re hopeless!

But they were right, weren’t they?

Stupid!

Deadweight!

And in that moment, Lance found himself lost. Succumbing to the sea of his own insecurities. They’d come on this mission to connect as a unit

But…

He had never felt more alone in his entire life.

It was just him, and the voice echoing over and over in his mind.

You’re nothing

—

Lance jolted upright, phantom claws still tearing at his skin as he looked around frantically.

He was back on the training deck. Sitting on the floor. He was fairly certain he hadn’t been on the floor when they’d gone in.

He was breathing heavily, his body shaking as tears ran freely down his cheeks. The only positive right now was that whatever wounds the figures seemed to have inflicted were gone… if they had ever really existed in the first place.

“Lance…” came an empty, uncertain voice. The Blue Paladin looked up to see the other Paladins standing a foot or so away, watching him completely break down after…

After…

Dios! They were gonna hate him. More than they did already!

“I’m sorry,” he whimpered.

If it was possible, he began quivering harder.

At that moment, nobody seemed to know what to do. They were all frozen in some sort of silent shock, mortified by what they’d just witnessed.

And then… to everyone’s surprise… Keith began walking towards Lance.

The Blue Paladin began scrambling away, trying to pull himself to his feet and failing as he stumbled backwards. He raised a feeble hand to try and hide his crying eyes.

Kieth grabbed his arm, catching him as he fell. He tried to pull away, letting out a frantic whimpering sound. But Keith held his grip and pulled Lance towards him.

And then they were hugging. Lance felt slender, firm arms wrapped around his back. He fought against them for a few seconds, but the Red Paladin didn’t let up.

So, Lance folded. Keith dropped to his knees as the boy buried his head in the Red Paladin’s shoulder, clutching the back of his shirt with trembling hands. Sobs raked his body, and Keith only seemed to hold him tighter.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Lance murmured through his sobbing. He hadn’t meant for this to happen. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. What would they think of him now?

Another pair of arms joined them, and Lance heard Hunk whisper in his ear, “It’s okay, buddy.”

Then something small weaselled its way between the hands already around Lance, and he heard Pidge murmur, “we’re right here.”

A hand fell on his shoulder, and Shiro spoke in a calm, affirming voice: “we’re not going anywhere buddy.”

And Lance cried harder. He was sure he was squeezing Keith too hard. He was sure he was making a fool of himself. He was sure they all just pitied him.

“I’m sorry.” He sobbed again wetly. Voice thick with misery. The embrace became more secure, and Lance was acutely aware of Shiro joining it fully.

Then, someone moved their hand into Lance’s hair. Working it between their fingers, and combing it gently. “Don’t—“ Keith rasped. If Lance wasn’t sure they all hated him now, if he wasn’t sure this was just pity, he’d say he heard a quiver in his voice, “don’t apologise.”

And they sat there, Lance sobbing into Keith’s shoulder as the team embraced him from every angle, smothering them in their warmth. This smothering, it wasn’t like what the figures had done. It wasn’t suffocating. In fact, with each passing second it seemed to breathe more life into Lance.

And even though he knew it wouldn’t last, even though he knew his time with the team was at its end…

He didn’t feel so alone anymore.

—

Keith was shell shocked. He couldn’t comprehend it. Lance was supposed to be the happy one. The one who cracked jokes, and… and kept everyone optimistic, and annoyed everyone with his dumb, extremely endearing pick-up lines.

He wasn’t supposed be sad. He wasn’t supposed to be the one falling apart. He wasn’t supposed to believe so little of himself that his own mind turned on him the second it got the chance.

Yet here they were. Lance in Keith’s arms as he carried the Blue Paladin to his room after he’d cried so hard he’d passed out from exhaustion.

It wasn’t right, seeing Lance so broken.

How long has he felt like this? How long had he been hiding it? How long had he been pretending?

Keith wasn’t sure he really wanted to know. Because if his instincts were correct (and they usually were): he never hadn’t been.

The Red Paladin approached Lance’s bed. He propped the boy’s body against him as he pulled back the covers. Then, cradling him gently in his arms (strange that this had happened twice now), he lifted Lance up and set him down on the mattress.

Keith couldn’t believe it. Salty tracks stained the Paladin’s face, and Keith had to fight to keep his own tears down.

Because seeing Lance like this… it hurt.

It was wrong.

It felt more wrong to him than anything had ever felt in his life.

And Keith knew why.

Because ontop of how unbelievable it was that this was how Lance really felt… Keith loved him. He loved Lance so much.

And seeing him like that, completely helpless. Completely broken…

It hurt worse than anything Keith had ever felt before.

And he swore to himself, right there and then, that he would make sure Lance never felt that way again. He wouldn’t give the Paladin room to doubt. He would make him see just how beautiful he was.

—

Lance awoke to a hand in his own - grip weak - and something pressed against his side. He looked around disoriented for a moment. He was aware of a couple things: the person beside him (obviously), the exhaustion and aching in his limbs, the dim lighting, and the stiff skin on his cheeks that came with dried tears.

So he had been crying? Why?

He moved a bit, sitting up to try and see who was with him.

Had they seen him cry? Dios he hoped not.

As he moved, he felt the hand atop his twitch, before the grip grew tighter. Lance gasped as the figure sat up, and blue eyes met black. The hint of violet in them was a dead give away as to who it was, as was the black mop of hair.

Lance would reckognise that mullet anywhere.

“Keith?” He asked.

“Lance!” And the boy in question had never seen Keith look so happy, so relieved. He wasn’t sure why, not like he was in a healing pod or anything.

“What’s goin’ on?” Lance asked, rubbing sleep out of his eyes.

And then he remembered. The mindscape, and the figures, and the sobbing and the hugs… and he dropped his gaze.

“…oh.”

He knew his voice sounded small. Weak.

Pathetic.

He couldn’t hold back the wince.

Then a hand squeezed his. “Lance…” Keith tried to turn his gaze towards him, but Lance couldn’t look up. He feared he’d see scrutiny and disgust. He was certain now why Keith had waited by his bedside. He wanted to tell Lance he was off the team. Tell him he couldn’t be the Blue Paladin anymore. Tell him they didn’t want someone on the team who held them back.

And tears flooded his eyes.

“Lance, hey, it’s okay.” Keith brushed a soft hand against the boy’s cheek, brushing away stray tears.

Lance lifted his hands, pushing Keith’s out of the way as he frantically tries to wipe his own eyes. He felt guilty and embarrassed and stupid.

“I’m sorry,” he whimpered, though whether he was apologising for the tears or his very existence he wasn’t sure. He supposed it could be both.

Hands grabbed his face, grip gentle but firm. “Hey, none of that.”

And the tears came even more. Even now he was disappointing Keith with his stupid crying.

“I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I’m sorry. I- I tried—“

“No, Lance! Don’t apologise.” Keith reiterated.

Of course, Keith didn’t want to see him grovelling. Didn’t want to see his pathetic attempts at asking for forgiveness. He was done with him, and nothing Lance said would change that.

But… dammit a part of him begged to be allowed to stay. Allowed another chance.

He cried harder.

“I know— I know you want me off the team. I know I’m a disappointment. I know I’m just holding you back. But please. Please, I can do better. I’ll work harder. I’ll train every day. Please! Please, Keith, don’t send me away. I- I can’t— I don’t—“ his pleas died out in exchange for desperate sobs.

Look at you. You think this will make him take you back? You’re disgusting! He’s disgusted by you! He’s right to send you away.

You don’t deserve his forgiveness.

You don’t deserve Voltron.

Keith’s voice broke through the terror.

“Woah, hey, hey, hey!” Lance could hear the awkwardness in his voice. Keith never really was good with people. Good with emotions. And here Lance was making it harder by crying all over him.

Deadweight. Dumbass. Worthless.

“No one’s goin’ anywhere. Okay?”

Lance stilled. He sobbing stopped, and he felt like the ground had just been pulled out from under him.

He dared look up, dared meet Keith’s gaze, and was met with nothing but soft, gentle eyes flooded with concern. Concern and heartache.

“What?” He asked weakly.

It didn’t make any sense.

Nothing makes sense to you.

“We're not kicking you out Lance.” Keith said, pain evident in his voice.

Lance was… so confused.

“But…” he couldn’t find the words.

Keith sighed. It wasn’t exasperated, or irritated. Just… heavy. “We need to talk, Lance. You, me, and the rest of the team.”

Oh. So they weren’t kicking him off the team. They were just gonna reprimand him.

I bet it’s because they pity you.

They don’t have the heart to send you to the whims of space. They don’t have the time to drop you back on earth. So once again, they’re just stuck with you.

The deadweight.

The burden.

“Why don’t you come with me.”

And then gentle arms were wrapping around the Blue Paladin’s waste, helping him to his feet. Lance’s legs wobbled, and a new bout of shame engulfed him as he clung tightly to Keith.

Fuck!

—

Keith led him down to the lounge area, keeping a stable, comforting grip around the shaking boy’s form the whole way down. The half-Galra could tell Lance was still exhausted, and for a moment he wondered if he should have told Lance to rest before dragging him all the way down here.

But, Lance was convinced that the team didn’t want him around, and the thought of letting those feelings simmer any longer made Keith’s heart ache.

No, they needed to talk to him. Before Lance regained the ability to try and cover it up… he was rather good at that. Despite all of this, Keith found himself admiring just how good an actor Lance was. He’d managed to get past Keith’s scary accurate instincts, the Red Paladin not having thought for a second that the boy he paid attention to the most on this ship was hurting so much. Not until it all came crashing down.

Which begged the question: What else had Lance been hiding?

Hopefully nothing. But that wasn’t important right now.

What was important is that Lance got help.

—

The others were already waiting for them when they arrived. Lance refused to meet their gaze as he was led by the Red Paladin over to the sitting area, where he was lowered onto a couch. Shame churned in his blood as he stared at his shaking hands. He was pathetic, couldn’t even manage to walk himself.

The tension in the room was thick, Altean space goo thick. The longer the silence grew, the worse Lance felt.

Just berate me already! Then we can all move on with our lives! He pleaded.

Not that you’d have anything meaningful to move on to, his mind filled in kindly.

Finally, Shiro decided it was time to put the Blue Paladin out of his misery. “Lance… we need to talk about yesterday. Your mindscape-“

Lance thought he would be able to bear it. To sit through another ridiculing lecture about his incompetence. But he couldn’t, he couldn’t bear to listen to the disappointment of his team members. Couldn’t bear to withstand the disapproval. So, against his better judgement, he interrupted desperately.

“I know! Okay, I know. You don’t have to say anything. I know I fucked up! I failed the exercise and made a complete fool of myself. I know behaved in a way no true Paladin of Voltron ever would! I know I compromised Voltron’s bond and probably put you all in danger, and I know- I- I know you all think I’m stupid, and weak and unworthy now! I know I’m not good enough, I know I’m only here because you don’t have time to find another Paladin for Blue, I know none of you actually want me around! I know! I know, I-“ Tears had begun streaming down his face again, his palms pressed into his eyes as he tried desperately to hide his obvious despair.

A firm grip on his shoulders caused him to look up with a start. In an instant he regretted it as tears spilled from bloodshot, tired eyes.

Weak!

But before he could wipe them away, or hide his face again, Shiro said something he was not expecting.

“No, Lance. No… no to all of that. You didn’t mess anything up, and none of us think you’re weak, or stupid, or unworthy. We do want you here. You belong on this team Lance, and it’s okay to not be… okay sometimes.”

Lance’s tears didn’t let up, despite the obvious genuinely in Shiro’s eyes. He should be grateful… happy. They weren’t mad. But… that… that couldn’t be right.

“N-no. No you’re- you’re lying. You don’t mean that, I know! I already know! I’ve always known! You- you’re just trying to make me feel better. You just- you- you’re trying to keep Voltron together so you don’t have t- to waste time f-f-finding someone else. But you w-w-want to. You want someone better. I know I’m not-“ his choppy, shaky voice cut off at a an angry voice coming from behind Shiro.

“Do you really think that?! After everything we’ve been through! You really think none of us actually care?!” It was Pidge, small, angry, heartbroken Pidge.

“How can you fucking say that shit when we’re supposed to be your friends! How can you fucking- think that shit about yourself— you don’t- how could you not trust us to tell-“ Pidge, smart, intellectual, tactful Pidge, was at a loss for words.

And then her anger broke. Taken over by guilt, regret, and most of all, fear.

“Did we really treat you that badly?”

Lance’s heart was thumping in his chest. No. No he made Pidge upset, now everyone was gonna be mad- he couldn’t- “No- n- no -o no no no, no, no! No! No! It was- you guys never! You guys were always so great! So good! I’m the one that’s the problem here! You never- I just- it’s just the truth. That’s just how it is- I didn’t-“ he paused for a beat, staring at everyone as they watched the interaction. Then, finally, he returned his gaze to his hands, “I’m sorry.”

“Okay, everyone just… take a breath,” Shiro said, stepping away from Lance, and sitting down on a chair across from the couch he was on.

There was silence as everyone situated themselves around the area. Keith sat next to Lance on his left, and Hunk sat on his right. Pidge sat next to Shiro on a stool, while Coran and Allura shared another couch situated next to Pidge and Shiro.

Then, finally, Shiro asked something.

“How long have you been feeling like this?”

Lance was confused. Again.

Idiot.

“Like what?”

“Like you’re not good enough… for Voltron.”

Lance was glad for the final specification. That made the question a little easier to answer. Even still, he found the words tangled in his throat as he feared the reaction the answer would recieve.

“I…” his body tensed as he felt all eyes on him. His heart started racing. He was trying to answer but he couldn’t. Of course he couldn’t. He could never do anything he was supposed to! They were asking him a question and he couldn’t even find it in himself to answer!

Stupid!

Weak!

Worthless!

Deadweight!

Fingers brushed against his thigh, and he looked down to see Keith’s hand slowly inching towards him, clearly trying to comfort him. To get his attention.

“Take your time,” the Red Paladin said. “We- we’ve got nowhere else to go.”

Lance looked away. Look at him, having to be placated like a child. Still, he hated to admit that the removal of pressure helped.

“I… I guess… I guess I… always?” He said uncertainty. Shrinking in on himself as he braced for backlash. Surly now they would see how inadequate he had been from the start.

But Shiro’s voice remained calm, and the room remained quiet.

“Why?”

Lance scoffed at that, leaning back against the couch, but keeping his eyes on his lap. “Isn’t it kind of obvious?”

“Tell me anyway. It might not be as obvious to some of us.”

Lance was pretty sure that wasn’t true, but he was already on thin ice with the team as it was, he wasn’t about to disobey Shiro.

Still though, it took him several minutes to be able to say the words out loud.

“You- you guys are all so… so good at stuff. Pidge is smart and good with technology and determined. She can hack into anything and we’d be dead like 10x over without her. Hunk is gentle, and big hearted, he’s a good cook and a great engineer for Voltron. He gets along well with aliens and he’s always there when people need him. Allura and Coran are the last of their kind alive! We need Allura to run the ship, she’s got altean magic plus she’s like royalty. She’s important. And Coran keeps everything running on the ship. He knows so much about space and planets, and he’s the best doctor we have - besides the healing pods. Keith’s our best pilot and our best swordsman. He’s confident and brave and insanely talented! Without him I don’t know if we’d have survived half the battles we were in, he’s a great soldier! And Shiro is… Shiro is our leader. Shiro’s been through so much. He’s so calm and level headed and determined and we need him. Without Shiro we’d be nothing! Without any of you we’d be nothing!”

He paused, taking a moment to catch his breath, recollect his thoughts, and brace himself for what he was about to say next. For the truth he’d kept inside for so long. There was no hiding it anymore, they’d all seen it first hand and now he had to explain it.

“But me? I’m nothing special. I’m not… any of that. I’m not smart, I’m not creative, or a diplomat. I’m not brave or talented or a leader. I don’t know things! I’m not important! I’m just Lance! I’m stupid and weak and annoying and useless and I don’t contribute anything but subpar shooting skills that any of you could probably learn faster than I ever did! I’m just a fucking deadweight, I hold Voltron back, I’m a fucking joke of a pilot! I’m not even really a fighter pilot, I got in a technicality! I always fuck things up! I’m a fuck up! A stupid, weak, good for nothing, worthless fuck up who doesn’t deserve to be a Paladin! Voltron would be so much better off if I just stopped being selfish and fucked off already so you guys wouldn’t have to deal with my shit anymore! Maybe then we’d actually be making progress against the Galra!”

He hadn’t meant to say that much. Actually he’d planned on stopping after ‘I’m just Lance!’ But, once he started, he found the words just poured out of him faster than he could collect them back up. And now… now here he was. With everything he’d ever felt about himself being laid on the table. Everything his own mind ever fucking screamed at him coming out in a convoluted mess as he finally found the words put to it’s mockery.

Lance lifted his hand, trying to whisk his still very much present tears away, when a gloved hand caught it.

He looked at Keith, making eye contact. Suddenly he was stuck. He couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think (not that he usually could).

Because Keith, warrior, closed off, emotionless Keith… had tears in his eyes.

“That’s not true! None of that is true! You’re not stupid, or weak, or worthless, or any of that! You are Lance! Smart, skilled, funny, beautiful, amazing, wonderful Lance! Lance who always seems to know how to lighten the mood or offer up a joke! Lance who keeps everyone positive and innocent in the middle of a fucking space war! Lance, the sharpshooter, who we know always has our backs in battle. Lance who cares so much about everyone around him, and who would give his life in an instant to save any one of us! Lance who hid for so long that he was suffering because he didn’t want to make anyone else upset! Lance who thinks of everyone so highly that he thinks he isn’t good enough! But you are Lance! You are good enough! You’ve always been good enough! You’re not a deadweight, or a cargo pilot! You are so much more than that!”

Lance just stared as Keith tried to drive home a message that he just… that Lance couldn’t comprehend. This wasn’t… this couldn’t… he’d always known that he wasn’t… and now Kieth, Kieth who hated Lance’s guts was telling him…

Hunk joined up, bringing Lance into his arms as he began to speak. “We care about you man. Me especially. Whenever I’m feeling nervous or overwhelmed, you are what keeps me grounded. Keeps me from completely freaking out. You’re my best friend, and I would be devastated if you left. I couldn’t do this without you.”

Pidge nodded, staying where she was as she added her own two cents. “I know I haven’t always been the nicest towards you… especially in our early days as friends. I made you feel like you were stupid and not worth my time, and I didn’t even realise or try to apologise because I had other things going on. But I’ve always admired you Lance… the way you embrace everyone around you so easily - except maybe Keith - and the way you’re always so aware of everything going on around you. You always know exactly what to say or do to take the edge off, even if it means you end up getting yelled at or in trouble. You take care of us out here, and I never told you before but… I am extremely grateful for you.”

Lance was speechless. They were all saying such… nice things. Things he never saw as passably notable or important. Things he’d always said he had to do to make up for the fact that he was a complete fucking pile of nothing. And of course they weren’t! Not up to the standards of everyone else. None of that really helped in the fight against the Galra… did it?

“Lance,” Shiro began, “you are a valued and inconsequential member of this team. Your bond with the Blue Lion is the strongest out of all of us. Your ability to trust so deeply and so completely in others has been life changing in our diplomatic missions. There’s something about you that is just… so disarming that people want to be around you. I just wish…” he sighed, “I just wish you’d trusted us enough to tell us that you were feeling like this. You didn’t have to suffer alone Lance, none of us ever have to go through anything alone.”

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Pidge asked. She always wanted to know the why.

Lance, completely taken aback by everything, took a minute to register the question.

“I… didn’t think anyone would care. I thought it was just common knowledge… or that if I told you then you’d realise I was right. I didn’t want to jeopardize our objective with my stupid problems, not when it was just as easy to go about my day pretending everything was fine.”

Shiro’s eyes grew soft, “Lance, we would never ever kick you off the team for talking about your problems. I promise. You should never be afraid to talk to us. You don’t have to lie, or pretend you’re okay when you’re not. We’re a team, we’re here for each other, and nobody is going to be angry at you for telling us how you’re feeling.”

Lance’s lower lip trembled. The tears, which had subsided by the time Hunk started talking, came back. He pulled his hand out of Keith’s grasp to wipe at his eyes… again.

“I just- I- I didn’t want you guys to hate me.” Lance had given up trying to sound okay. His voice was wet, broken and oh so afraid. As if any minute they would realise that everything he was talking about was indeed true, and that they’d send him off into space. It’s what he deserved.

Hunk pulled him in again, this time it was a proper bear hug. Lance cried. It wasn’t the raw, terrified, pleading sobs that had taken over his body in the training room. These tears were drawn from a place of relief and mild fear. After all this time he’d finally let it all out, he’d finally opened up and showed them what he was - what he really was - and so far… they didn’t hate him.

They could. They may one day just decide they didn’t want him around. But right now they wanted him… all of him.

So he cried; and when Keith wrapped his arms around Lance from behind he didn’t resist; and when Pidge and Coran came over to join he didn’t fight; and when Allura and the space mice nuzzled their way in he didn’t try to run; and when Shiro finally decided to join in fully on the embrace, he stayed put.

He didn’t scream, or kick, or claw or try to get away. He embraced them, all of them. Embraced their warmth and their love, and their desire for him to be okay.

And he cried.

And though those tears would not be able to wash away the toxin of his brain. The poison that had built up after years of his life feeling like he was just some second rate cargo pilot from Cuba… they were a start.

A start to the long road to healing. A start to seeing himself as equal to his peers. A start to seeing himself deserving of Blue and his Paladin uniform.

They were a start to his long journey to feeling like he was worthy.

Like he was something.

[lulutaylorsimaginarium]

The Chain

Summary: When the guys get stuck in a situation and hunted down by a drug lord. Frankie makes a call he really doesn’t want to make to the only person that can help them

Words:1,834

Warnings: “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the right age to handle mature themes. We handle our own triggers with kindness and grace

AN: Mind any grammar mistakes even though the story has been checked. The author is dyslexic and it is the wonders of her brain.

PART ONE

PART TWO 

She sat at the bar in an empty, hole in the wall watering hole listening to a song that she danced to in Havana years ago. It put her in a better mood thinking of the man she danced with. The man that had stolen her heart even though she hadn’t wanted to fall in love. The song and the memory of the man lessened the rage in the very same heart. She started to sway to the music with an impossibly sweet drink in her hand. Gabby couldn’t forget the predicament she was in and of course there was the man sitting beside her, sipping his beer

“Why don’t you drink?”

“Allergic reaction”

“Oh yeah?”

“I break out in hand cuffs”

Will didn’t believe her, but he let her get away with the lie. There was no doubt that Gabby was tough, but she wasn’t the normal type of tough. It wasn’t a rage filled tough. It was a stubbornness. It was a ‘watch me’ tough but as she sat beside him dancing to the music while still sitting her seat. She intrigued him.

“What’s with that smile?”

“Memories”

“Oh-uh”

“Knew a guy”

“Cuban?”

“Puerto Rican but we spent a lot of time in Cuba”

“Dancing in the streets?”

“Yeah. In Cuba, in Barcelona, Portugal”

“So he was smooth, huh?”

“You could say that” she laughed “Still is”

“What happened?”

“He’s an aid worker. It’s hard to keep a relationship going when you’re pulling people out of the pits a hell half the time and on the other side of the planet”

“I don’t know how you do it”

“I only did it for a moment in time. I’m too empathic. It took a lot out of me. Especially when we came across kids, you know? I want to adopt ‘em and take them all home. It doesn’t work that way”

“Now you organise?”

“Correct”

“I can see why Pope needs you. Even if he is an ass”

Gabby laughed pulling the tie out of her hair. The colour reminded him of a glass of red wine or maybe that was the green neon sign above her that was making it look that way.

“He is right about one thing”

“What’s that?”

“I do owe Frankie”

“From what I know. Which isn’t a lot. He was doing his job when he found you”

“No but he broke protocol. They deemed the mission too high risk. Especially where I was but he still did it. He could have been fired or lost everything. He didn’t even know me at the time”

“He wouldn’t have it any other way Gabby. He loves ya”

“Ugh” she sighed rubbing her forehead “Why did it have to be Costa Rojas?”

“We didn’t pick the target”

“Santiago did”

“Are you noticing a theme?”

“At least Costa’s base isn’t in Brazil. You’ve got some distance. How did you move the palettes anyway?”

“We had transit vans but the guys driving got shot up and so did the vans”

“So he dropped you off in the slums with that much money”

“No one living there would be dumb enough to steal it. Rojas knows that. They are also smart enough that if they see something they know thats not for them to know. They’re not going to talk”

“You’ve got me there”

“Did you really stab Andrews with a pocket knife?” he laughed asking

“He grabbed my ass repeatedly after I asked him not to do it. Damn straight I did”

“Why didn’t you tell Frankie?”

“I wanted Andrews to stop. I didn’t want him to die. Anyway. That was a long time ago”

“Even Pope would have stopped him” She gave him an epic eye roll which only made Will practically fall over laughing  “What is it with you two?”

“I don’t know. I swear I’ve tried to get along with him. I swear but he does shit like this. He thinks he’s smarter than everybody. God, even his breathing sometimes grates on me. He’s the most self-important jerk I’ve ever met”

“We’re not meaning to turn your life upside down, Gabs”

“But didn’t you guys do this a few years ago. How much money is enough money?”

“We didn’t keep it, babe”

“What are you talking about?”

“We gave the money we did get away with to Tom’s kids. They don’t have to worry about anything anymore”

She looked him wide eyed and silent for maybe the first time since she landed.  Gabby shook her head before a stream of swear words flew out of her mouth.

“I hate this and now I hate you”

“Is that a yes?”

“I just don’t know how I can help you”

Will nodded his head understood where she was coming from. He got why she didn’t want to use anything with the non-profits name on it. They helped people that really needed it.

“We’re up a creek”

“Walking away isn’t an option?” she asked

“Nope”

“God damn it”

They’ll have to hide it and then move it and hide it while moving it. If Rojas found out their end wouldn’t be swift. She didn’t want that on her head. She needed something that the locals and authorises wouldn’t bat an eye at. She needed transportation and she needed it fast. Will watched the clogs in her head move fast, impossibly fast

“Gabs?”

She covered his mouth with her hand

 “Shh, I’m thinking”

She moved her hand and grabbed her phone before walking outside.

He watched her walk back and forth in the sidewalk for a while. Making calls, looking up this on her phone she popped her head back in the door.

“Hey handsome, do you know how to hot wire a car?”

“Yes”

“Let’s go but it’s not going to be a quick trip”

Will didn’t ask any questions. He just did what he was told. With women like Gabby that was the safest way to survive. That was truth in Will’s experience, at least.

 

 

#

 

Gabby and Will had been gone for five hours, the sun was dangerously close to rising and there hadn’t been no word from either of them. They knew that Will wouldn’t leave them, well he wouldn’t leave Benny. Frankie was starting to worry and Santiago was starting to curse her name, in his head at least.

“What if Rojas caught up with them?” Benny voice all their fears

“We would have heard by now” Santiago lied

“I shouldn’t have called her, Pope”

“Well, you did Frank and here we are. Will wouldn’t jump ship”

“Either would she, man”

“We have to come up with another plan”

“They will be here” Benny told them.

Suddenly an old beat up people mover stopped outside the favela. Two squeaky doors shut loudly before the missing two were standing back in their doorway

“Honey, we’re home” she told them slightly seductively

“Where have you been?”

“Cleaning up your mess, Garcia. You bozos wanna come help us unload?” She tossed an empty hessian coffee bean sack at him “We are in Brazil after all”

“What if they cut them open, Gabriela?”

“That’s why we stole full bags of coffee beans Also. Place the real beans on top of the bags full of money. They’ll cut into the bags we want to them to cut into”

“Two more van are showing up at five thirty this afternoon. So we have to move” Will told them.

“Leave ten grand out of the bags for the vans”

“Ten?”

“Yeah Garcia. For five grand we were going to get endless questions. Ten grand brought silence. You okay with that?”

“Guess I have to be”

“That’s what I like. Gratitude”

She rolled her eyes as he walked outside. Frankie stepped in front of her before pulling her into a hug

“Thank you”

“You’re still in trouble but I love you”

They both walked outside holding on to each other for dear life. Everybody quietly unpacked the van of empty bags. The tension that they had all been choking on was leaving them but Santiago just couldn’t help himself

“Where are we going to take this coffee when we are finished here, oh wise one?”

“I haven’t figured that part out yet”

“If only someone knew some else in Puerto Rico” Will answered almost gleefully

“Nope”

“Sebastian” Frankie answered pointing at her

“No. We are not getting Seb involved”

“He would do it, Gab”

“Who’s Sebastian” Pope practically spat

“Her fella” Frankie teased

“He’s not my fella”

“Used to be”

“I don’t know where he is right now. He’s an aid worker for Christ’s sake. He could be anywhere”

“Could you find out though?” Will smiled.

“If any person is more connected than you. Its Seb” Frank pleaded

Gabby rolled her eyes before pulling her phone out of her pocket, playfully growling as she walked outside.

The group started packing the bags with cash as Santiago stood near the window, listening to the conversation. Her voice was softer, you could hear the affection as she spoke. That was until she walked around the corner.

He walked over to Frankie

“Can we trust this guy?”

“Absolutely”

“I don’t like it”

“We are going to need more people to get this home and he would do anything for her. He’s a good guy. You wanted her for her connections, right?”

There was an uncomfortable silence filled the room as they continued loading the cash. Before she was standing in the doorway again.

“Bad news is that he is in Honduras. Good news is that if we can get to Venezuela. He can store it for us until we make other plans”

“How much did you tell him?” Santiago asked, probably sharper than he intended

“I said that we are in trouble, and it was a no questions situations”

No one said anything.

She hadn’t slept, she was at the end of her tether and likely to blow. Instead of sleeping, she packed bags with cash.

#

There were three beat up, different colours vans rolled up at five thirty. Gabby paid an elderly man the money and waited until they were long gone before the guys packed the vans.  She lent up against the green building. She tried to help the guys carry the bags, but the guys weren’t having any of it.

Once everything was carefully packed. Dummy coffee beans placed on top and around, they all felt a tiny bit better. Maybe it was being on the move that made them feel safer. There was still just under five days of driving ahead of them.

Although the thought of seeing Sebastian at the end of all of it made her feel better.

She was pale, she was tired, and she was trying to cover it. 

Everybody piled into the vans before Frankie stood in front of her picking her up at the knees, tossing her over his shoulder

“I wanna drive”

“No way. You haven’t slept in a day. Forget it. You’re a passenger, Princess”

“Ugh” 

He placed her in the car and she was asleep by the time they left the city

[bellysoupset]

I know you said you want Jonah to be a caretaker more, but I can’t help asking for him to be the sickee because he’s my favorite ;) and also because out of all sick fics I’ve read he’s the only character who’s a sympathy puker and I find that so interesting.

So to get to the point, could you write a fic about what happens when a patient throws up in front of him?

This is very short because I don't love writing about other randoms, but here's just a taste of Jon's personal hell hehe

---------

Jonah groaned loudly as he glanced at the file of his next patient. Fuck the flu, he thought sourly. It had been a pretty strenuous month at the hospital thanks to this bug. While he had managed to avoid the initial two weeks of it, soon enough even the doctors were dropping like flies and he could no longer hide in orthopedics. Wendy had gone down and then he had followed suit, so now he couldn't even pretend he was trying avoid contagion.

Jonah: i'll trade ur next patient for mine. I'll even pay

Wendy's contact turned green and then she sent him a bunch of puking emojis.

Wendy: mine is the flu too, no such luck.

Fuck.

He sighed and collected himself, ready to face his patient. It was a teenager, their mom hanging anxiously right next to them and the kid had already been given an emesis basin. Just the sight of it made Jonah's stomach roll.

"Hi Oliver, I'm Dr. Banks," Jonah lead the conversation, his full customer voice on. He listened painfully as Oliver's mom - Cathy - rattled off her son's symptoms. It sounded just like the flu, like the front desk nurses had put as prognostic, but still Jonah didn't like taking any chances.

"I'm gonna palpate your stomach, alright Oliver? I'm fairly certain is the flu, but we don't want to risk it."

Cathy looked visibly relieved as she aided her son climb on the examining bed, but Oliver not so much. He pressed a hand to his mouth, burping wetly, "it hurts..."

"I'll be gentle, I promise," Jonah promised, aiding the kid to lie down correctly and rolling up his shirt to the middle of his chest. He held the stethoscope to the teen's bloated belly, while pressing gently in the fashion had been taught to. Left lower quadrant first, right lower second- He pressed, then released suddenly and didn't get a cry out of pain, nor met any tenderness there. Rule out appendicitis.

In the stetoscope he heard as a gurgle moved through the boy's belly, followed by a nauseated burp, "doctor..."

"almost done," Jonah cringed, wanting to hurry the fuck up, but he knew he couldn't in good conscience. He pressed on the upper right, it was sloshy and gross-

"Doc-URrp-" Oliver grabbed on his mom to roll to the side, shoving Jonah off just as he brought up a splash of bright yellow bile all over the pristine floors of the office.

Jonah immediately gagged, but he pressed his lips tightly, planting a hand on the boy's heaving back, while his mom cooed and fretted about.

"Mrs. Grant," his voice didn't sound like his own, thick with nausea, "can you keep Oliver company for a second, I'll call in one of the janitors."

"Of course," she took the emesis bowl he passed her and then Jonah did his best not to run out of the door.

He hardly made it to the staff's bathroom, leaning over the sink as the coffee he had previously chugged came back up. It tasted bitter and that alone had him gagging for another solid minute, spitting up ropes of acid.

His stomach hurt, tender from all the abuse it had been going through lately. There was a knock on the door.

"It's fucking occupied!" He snapped angrily, washing his mouth, only for another wave of queasiness to have him gagging up the water. He panted, holding his belly, "fuck."

"Dr. Banks," Wendy's voice was like a balm, "do you need help."

Ah fuck, yes, Jonah sighed in relief and unlocked the door. Immediately Wendy entered, slamming the door behind her so no one would see him.

"Shit, Jon..."

"I need-" he burped again, squeezing his eyes shut, "janitor in my office. Patient-"

"Patient is still there?"

"Yes..." he swallowed the urge to throw up once more, "I can't do this."

"You can," she rubbed his arm in a reassuring manner, "I'll go deal with your patient, take my office. My next one is a broken leg."

He nodded, squeezing the sink, "thanks."

"No problem" she squeezed his arm, "get it together."

"Trying," he took another sip of the water, only for it to come back up as the smell of the puke flashed through his mind, "fuck-"

[leoandraphssoulmate]

Don’t Forget Me

LeoXGenNuetralReader

Trigger Warning: Grief, Death of a Child, Amnesia

Blinding flashes. A cold breeze. A white wedding dress fluttering out around your legs. It’s what you see and feel when Donnie requests that you try again. To close your eyes and dig deep. To try and recall anything you can. You don’t want to disappoint him, but you just can’t seem to pull any images of him up in your mind. Let alone what happened. You frown, your brow furrowing as you stare up into his reddish-brown eyes. 

“It’s ok.” He sighs. “We can try again tomorrow.” He turns, grabbing a large black coffee mug from the table. 

“I don’t understand why I can’t remember him.” You wrap your arms around your middle, your eyes squinting. “Why can’t I just go to him? Maybe it will jog my memory?”

“I don’t want to risk either of you possibly going further into shock than you already are.” He says softly, his eyes flicking from you to the closed brown door off to his left.

“Does he remember anything? Is he at least ok?” You ask, your gaze also traveling to the door.

 “No, he doesn’t and yes, he’s fine. I work with him every day too. I’ve done extensive research on amnesia over the last week and I’ve yet to come across anything like this.” He shook his head. “You’ve both been through something very traumatic. I can only guess that your minds disassociated from each other, along with the event.”

Your stomach tensed, sending a wave of nausea through you. “And you're absolutely sure that telling me about it, or even about him, might damage me further?” You swallowed. 

“I’m one hundred percent positive it will. Your mind has held on to who you are, and kept your memory of me, Mikey and Raph intact, but shut him behind a steel reinforced door. “ Donnie shrugged. “While I understand it, I don’t really understand it.”

“How long will it take for me to remember him? I don’t think I can stand not knowing much longer!” You slowly stand, your eyes still locked on the brown door. “I may not remember him, but I can feel our connection.”

“It’s not a linear thing. Every case is different. It could be weeks, or it could be months. Even years.” 

You snap your attention to him, your eyes wide. “Years?” You whisper harshly. “I can’t do this for years!” You squeeze your hands into fists. “Donnie? You need to let me see him.” Donnie slowly shook his head. “Donnie?” Your eyes begin to water. 

Donnie sighs. “Look, if either of you haven’t made any progress in two weeks, I will. Deal?”

“Deal!”

The next two weeks were torture. You hated not knowing what happened to you. To him. How could your mind simply erase your other half? How could you remember Donnie and the others, but not him? How could your mind keep certain things the way they were, but then dump the rest? You still trained and fought like a boss, leaving Raph and Mikey with more than a few bruises. Your passion for art and music remained, but the moment you tried to recall his face, there wasn’t anything there except for a blank space. 

After a rather hard training session, you began cleaning your katana, weary of your next session with Donnie. Every time you delved deeper into your mind, you found that it was becoming increasingly harder to recall any sort of memories from before. Even the flashes of your wedding dress were starting to fade. Lost in thought, you carelessly slid your fingers over the blade's edge, slicing into your flesh. “Ah shit!” You quickly pulled your hand away, sucking air through your teeth. 

“Y/N! Are ya ok?!” Raph shouted as he ran towards you. 

You held your right hand up, blood running down your wrist. “I cut myself.”  You pressed your lips together, utterly pissed at yourself. 

“Uh, ya ya did!” Raph’s green eyes widened as he reached for your hand, gently applying pressure at the base of your sliced fingers. “Let’s get ya to Donnie.”

Your eyes followed the trail of blood as it ran down your wrist, then dripped to the floor, your heart rate increasing. Suddenly, you weren’t standing next to Raph anymore. The dojo disappeared altogether. There he was. He was standing next to you. “Leo?” You whispered. Leo. God, how you wanted to sing his name! 

“She’s gone.” He said softly, flames reflected in his eyes. 

You turned your head to see flames. Bright orange and yellow flames. Devouring a two story home. Your heart squeezed. Intense emotions flooding your system. Emily. Her name was… “Emily!”

“Emily!” You shouted, the dojo coming back into focus. “Leo!” You pulled away from Raph, your feet carrying you to the one place you had wanted to be from the start. The brown door. You raised your fists, beating on the outside. “Leo!” After a few seconds, the handle slowly turned and the door opened. 

“Y/N?” Leo reached for you, the fingers on his right hand also bleeding. 

You both stared at each other for what seemed like eternity, your body's shivering. Not from cold, but from grief. Grief of a lost child. You took a deep breath, launching yourself into his arms. His strong arms.

Dedicated to all of those who have lost a child🫂💔

@leosgirl82 @thelaundrybitch @miss-andromeda @scholastic-dragon

[lionlena]

Hate run, love speed (Pedro Pascal x racing driver f!reader) part 1/?

Pedro Pascal x racing driver f!reader

Summary: You accidentally pick up a hitchhiker who turns out to be Pedro. You hear from him that he's not a fan of racing and thinks drivers don't do much... Then he finds out you're a rally driver.

Warnings: swearing, small angst, mention of risk of accident and death...

 A/N: I'm not an expert on car racing and rally drivers, but I've always dreamed of becoming one. So please don't take anything I write about racing and cars seriously. English is not my native language so I apologize for any mistakes. This is my first xreader so... I'm dying here.

Hate run, love speed

You knew you were already late and you shouldn't have stopped but... You had a soft heart. It was raining heavily and the man looked really resigned. He was standing on the side of the road near a black Audi Q 7 trying to hitchhike. You didn't even recognize him at first but the purple Los Angels Lakers t-shirt felt oddly familiar. You parked your car and waited for the passenger door to open. "Thanks a lot! My car broke down and my phone died." As soon as you heard that voice and saw those brown eyes, it took your breath away. Okay, you weren't some crazy fan, but... You loved this guy. His acting and character. His laugh and that feeling that he's just a good guy. "Play it cool, play it cool," you kept repeating to yourself in mind. Sure, you might have had nerves of steel on the track but not with Pedro Pascal. "Umm... No problem... Cars break down." It really sounded pathetic but Pedro just smiled and buckled his seatbelt. Then he extended his hand towards you and said: "I'm Pedro." You had to bite your tongue not to say: "I knooowww!" All he had to do was see the keychain on your car keys. Baby Yoda, Grogu swayed happily. "Y/N. Where did you want to go?" You say after little pause. "To the race track." "That's cool. It's close to where I'm going." It was a little lie but you didn't want to sound like a stalker and say, "I'm going there too." "Cool."  He said with that cute smile. You continued on your way and couldn't help but ask the question that was nagging you. "Are you a racing fan?" "Ummm... Not really. I must go there on business." "Oh." "I don't understand racing very much. Sure you have to drive well and have a strong character but other than that it's not like other sports. You don't exercise and... You know." Okay, that hurt you. Though he had some truth, but only a little. It's not like you didn't have to exercise or sacrifice other things. Even family. You had to put aside thoughts about the baby. It wasn't a problem for you but still. You had to be careful, pregnancy would end your career. Besides, one bad day, a slippery road, a flat tire... And you could have been hospitalized or even killed. You were wondering how to answer him when your phone rang and the familiar name BEN flashed up. "I'm sorry, but I have to pick this up." "Okay, I'll be quiet," he replied. As soon as you pressed the green receiver in the car your coach's angry voice rang out. "Y/N where the fuck are you?!" "On my way, I'll be there in 5 minutes." You swallowed and prayed that this would end the conversation. But it wasn't your lucky day. "You should be at the racetrack by now! Why do I need a driver who drives around the city and not on the racetrack?!" You could feel Pedro's eyes focus on you. "Four minutes Ben." You hit the accelerator harder and the car sped up. "Three" you growled. "Save this tone for the race." Ben hung up and Pedro immediately snapped out. "Holy shit, I'm sorry... I'm really, really sorry. If only I had known you were a rally driver I would never have said all this." You looked at him for a moment. He looked really embarrassed. "Actually, do you know why I became a driver? I hate sports, especially running but I love speed." You smiled at him and winked. "That makes sense," he replied.

The parking lot around the car racing track was full but luckily the competitors had their spots reserved. You quickly jumped out of the car. "Okay Pedro, I hope you'll be fine, I have to run now." "Thanks again and sorry." You waved your hand. "You're welcome." Then you started running towards the players' entrance. You heard Pedro shouting: "Good luck in the race!"

oh god....you really hated running

Part 2: https://lionlena.tumblr.com/post/717038721131855872/hate-run-love-speed-pedro-pascal-x-racing-driver

[quiet-admirer]

Hey!

I was wondering about the difference in SSC and RACK kink approaches… and if I misunderstood something there or if the framing of it has changed since I’ve first came in contact with it 5+ years ago. If you want to check out my tags on the post I reblogged and want to talk about that I’d be curious and happy to chat :) If not, then sorry for the interruption. Wishing you a good day!

Hello, hope you're having a good day, too ☺️ Essay incoming, but there are a couple issues with using "safe, sane, and consensual" as a way to approach practicing kink.

[The tl;dr is that the SSC terminology is subjective and not specific enough to be useful.]

Firstly, it's vague and subjective. What does "safe" mean? I mean, vanilla sex isn't "safe" in the sense of being devoid of any risks. It's all relative; there are risks inherent in any activity, and that just means we educate ourselves about harm reduction strategies (wear a seat belt, use condoms). "Risk-aware" is more useful; it gives you an action to take: consider what you're going to be doing and make yourself aware of the risks involved in the kink you're practicing. Then you can decide if you'd like to do something to mitigate those risks or if you're okay with accepting potential consequences.

"Safe" just sends the message that if you can't make the activity safe, don't do it, which isn't very realistic. People are going to get off the ways they want to get off, but as communities, we can empower people to make informed decisions about their own sexual health without judgement if someone decides they are willing to assume certain risks. I think of it as RACK promoting critical thinking skills about engaging in your kink in the way that works for you, whereas SSC is prescriptive, assuming there's one definition of what "safe" is that works for everybody and that this definition is obvious and that to do kink "right" you have to be making sure it lives up to that definition of "safe."

Feedism and weight gain kink in particular are kinks that typically aren't given the green light under the SSC model in our culture. The Internet is full of tired, boring commentary about "who would ever make themselves fat on purpose, that's insane, you're destroying your health and killing yourself for a kink, get psychiatric help." SSC legitimizes this kind of thinking, or at least doesn't do anything to discourage it.

I'm much less generous about the use of "sane" in this acronym. "Sane," and correspondingly, "insane," are pathologizing and pejorative words used to dehumanize people who experience mental illness/mentally ill people. I disagree with the term "sane" being used in regards to kink in both directions: mentally ill/insane people (I'm using it as a reclaimed word here, hi, I'm mentally ill and insane) are human beings who deserve sexual autonomy, and kink practices should not be pathologized as indicating insanity just because the mainstream thinks they're weird.

I've also seen "sane" used to mean two different things. One is capable of giving consent, but isn't that already covered by "consensual?" And that definition, like you brought up, also often views substance use as something to be avoided, but intox and chemsex are established sexual practices that can be practiced with a RACK approach just like any other sexual stuff. "Sane" is also sometimes used to mean "woah there, let's not get too wild," but, like, why constrain sexuality to things the majority labels as "sane?" Why not get too wild? I would love to get more insane in how I express pleasure in my life! Fuck "sane," give me that risk-aware, consensual, insane shit please 🤲

In a practical sense though, it's another case of what is "sane" even supposed to mean? Some people think anything other than heterosexual post-marital missionary is insane. It's just so subjective that it becomes a useless metric.

Neither "safe" nor "sane" are cases of "you know it when you see it" when it comes to the wonderful diversity and depravity (affectionate) of human sexuality.

All right, now that I've said all that, I'm going to start sounding alarmist here, but bear with me.

A year ago my answer would have stopped there, but unfortunately, we're in the middle of a huge upswing in fascist, terfy, anti-sex purity culture that's been getting a little too real lately in the US (think banning public drag because it's "sexually obscene" with a dash of "but think of the children!", and regardless of the fact that drag performance... isn't inherently sexual performance, we're seeing demonization of non-normative sexuality being successfully used as a vehicle for suppressing non-normative gender expression).

Basically, when SSC leaves off at the vague "safe" prescription, it opens the door to anti-kink arguments of "but [insert kink] is dangerous, that means it's bad and evil!" With the way "kink-critical" arguments are a major way that fascism is making inroads into ostensibly leftist queer spaces, we gotta be deliberate with our language and fight that shit in every tiny (and big and direct) way we can.

"Sane" is even worse with the way the word "degenerate" (literal and actual 1930s German Nazism) is making a huge comeback and being applied to anyone with non-normative sexualities among other groups. So, sorry if this seems dramatic, but tying sanity in with sexuality in any way, and by extension labeling some forms of sexuality as "insane," isn't just a 'well, it's not the nicest way to phrase it,' situation when the cultural context is that freedom of speech and healthcare access are being systematically removed under the guise of arguments that equate and conflate gender nonconformity with non-normative sexuality and insanity.

I'm not blaming SSC for any of this, it just isn't doing anybody any favors in the antifascist department....

As a Mentally Ill, SSC has always rubbed me the wrong way, but it's an extra-special sore spot for me right now!

[stubz]

this is why we don’t do hot potato with people

So I haven’t been that active in the mlb fandom for a couple of years but I’m surprised to see how little I’ve seen in fic/comics the team basically doing hot potato with Marinette or just anyone...so I’m gonna show why that is. Changes to canon

“I’m telling you, just leave me somewhere safe!” 

“And risk the akuma finding you? I’m sorry Princess but your too purr-ecious to risk.” goddammit if she wasn’t worried about her identity she’d purposely fall out of his arms.

“Chat on your left! Switch!” oh shit

“Waitwaitwait--!” he throws her. He throws her! And doesn’t even look where he’s throwing! Instead he’s looking to his left ready for...nothing?

“Made you look.” Alya?? She thought she was better than this!

“Hey that’s cheating!” 

“You were being a Mari-hog dude!” et tu Nino? Well at least it’s a much smaller toss.

“I don’t know what Carapace means by “Mari-hog” but you, Chat Noir, have had Marinette the longest and it was time for a switch.” Kagami too?? Even if its Kagami that’s no excuse for dropping her 2 stories down into someone’s arms!

And now it’s time for another switch!” Flying. Great. Thanks Chloe. Maybe she should consider benching everyone for the rest of the month.

“Guys? I think Marinette is uncomfortable with all the moving around.” She also considers giving Luka Sass more often. Finally she’s stopped moving and was passed in a very considerably way...actually maybe that was just Luka not wanting her to throw up on him.

“Will you please... just hide me somewhere.” and finally they do when seeing the very sick shade of green on her face. Strange how when in the passenger seat she’s more prone to motion sickness. Although to be fair she isn’t thrown, snatched, swiped, or dropped as often as Ladybug...okay but she doesn’t have to worry about falling to death as Ladybug.

After the purification of the akuma there was a very sudden announcement/lecture about the do’s and dont’s when escorting a civilian to safety. With the biggest one being, don’t treat it like hot potato

[your-gracelyn]

Op is correct, but just to throw in my unnecessary opinion-

Is Alicent not also risking Criston’s life by sleeping with him? Alicent and Criston don’t speak of running away to get married, and he continues to break his oath multiple times with her. Why doesn’t he assume Alicent doesn’t care about him/his life? It’s only Rhaenyra he calls a whore/bitch/cunt/cunning spider. After Alicent and Criston have sex, they awkwardly talk about the weather, and Alicent says they “can’t again”, suggesting it’s probably not a deeply loving relationship, just sex, but Criston isn’t angry at Alicent for risking his life for her own pleasure, and for not being deeply in love with him.

“Have him break his oath” suggests he didn’t also make the choice to sleep with Rhaenyra (and Alicent), and risk his own life. I’ve seen the argument that because Rhaenyra is in a position of power over him, he was too scared to say no. However, he does say no to being her “whore” and he goes on to antagonise Rhaenyra, he encourages Aegon to flight jace, kills Joffrey at her wedding, doesn’t hesitate to follow Alicent’s order of removing Luke’s eyes etc, and becomes part of the greens, these don’t seem like the actions of a man in fear of displeasing Rhaenyra.(Rhaenyra being a teenager and Criston an adult when they have sex is usually left out by people making this argument). But, Alicent has this same power over Criston, she’s the Queen dowager, the kings mother, and the hands daughter (at the time). She uses this power over him in the scene where she says she didn’t give him permission to use her name.

When Lyonel is talking to Harwin about his relationship with Rhaenyra he says, “Your intimacy with Princess Rhaenyra is an offense that could mean exile and death for you, for her, for the children!" which suggests Rhaenyra and Alicent could have been jeopardising their own life, literal and/or metaphorical, by sleeping with Criston, too. But, to bring it back to the power imbalance argument, if Rhaenyra has so much power over Criston, she must also have to power to protect him (and herself) from being punished for sleeping with her if anyone found out, no?

Also, despite everything Criston does to Rhaenyra (tells Alicent immediately that they slept together, kills Joffrey at her wedding, has Aegon fight Jace even though it’s an unfair fight) she never tells anyone it was him she slept with, thus protecting him from punishment and reputation damage. Even though she could say it was Criston, once it’s found out she’s slept with someone, to also have him punished like she has been, but she doesn’t. She could stop Daemon from being exiled by saying it wasn’t him she slept with, but she doesn’t.

That’s why I don’t like Criston. He absolutely despises Rhaenyra, and her whole family, for her mistakes as a teenager, but doesn’t hold anyone else to the same standard, even in almost identical situations or when they do worse. (Aegon cheats on Haelena, has his bastard kids in fighting pits, rapes Dyana and frequents brothels etc but Criston says nothing about that.) He says “women are the vision of the Mother to be spoke of with reverence”, but calls Rhaenyra a cunning spider, a spoiled cunt, the whore on Dragonstone etc.

The people that hate Rhaenyra for what she did to Criston don’t seem to hate Alicent for the same thing and vice versa. Which is the most annoying part.

(Not shitting on Alicent here, her having sex with Criston isn’t a problem in of it’s self, I’m just using it to compare Criston’s treatment of different women in the same situation)

(Plz read this as me friendly giving my opinion, I’m not attacking op or anyone just explaining my position. :) Sorry it got a bit long. )

oooooh people really think criston was upset specifically abt getting rejected by rhaenyra. they think he's upset she didn't want to run away with him. ah I see. so THATS why you all hate him so much! no friends I'm afraid he's upset because he assumed if she cared about him enough that to have him to break his oath and risk possible death she would have to be totally in love with him and unable to stop herself. instead he realised she was reckless with his life and deduced (right or wrong) from the incident that she didn't give a shit about him even as a friend. hope this helps.