#casswrites

This page broke me a little. That look on El’s face as she holds up her old passport—like she’s trying to convince the world she still belongs to herself.

I’ve felt that dread too. The fear that people will decide you don’t fit—that they’ll say no, send you back, judge you for a body you didn’t plan but carry anyway. But no one said a thing. Just a stamp.

Authors notes: Hehe, Happy birthday birdie!!Enjoy the title is pretty self explanatory but these are hcs of what I'd be like for Hinita to have a long distance s/o Enjoy!I miss my online friends ;-;

Hinata is typically a very warm person so it's not too hard for him to be liked rather you meet him in person or online

There will be lots of voice calls and he try's responding as fast as possible

I'm convinced he hardly sleeps sometimes because he's friends with kenma so he has practice staying up

So even if your in different time zones it can work

Plus he wakes up early to ride his bike in the morning so he usally send your a long paragraph every morning for you to read when you wake up

He text you about practice and will occasionally go on videocall just to try and replicate what went down at practice and games sound effetcs and all 😌

He's very proud of himself after he recounts everything that happened too

However things get really messy really fast because naturally he makes a lot of noise

And one time he hit his phone trying t little show you what he did at practice which ended up breaking

So you two lost contact for like 2 days

Of course he apologizes

Has accidentally called you after practice on the walk out of the gym and not noticed and so now your sitting their waiting for him to respond to your gretting or greet you himself

You listened to their conversation via hinata's jacket pocket

You heard a lot of "shut up Hinata!" Courtesy of the one and only king of the court himself kageyama.

And tsukishima make short people jokes

Don't worry hinata I'd like to politely delete his kneecaps too

Then when he's not answering you when you call his name through the phone you end up spamming him with messgaes until he looks at his phone.

And then he's like 👁👄👁 at his phone and tells everyone to say hi then hangs up the phone

Needless to say you have a better idea of what his team is like.

He will also try his best to mail you stiff for your birthday.

Shance- Quarantined_____________________________________________Lance wakes with a wet cough, feeling an uncomfortable weight in his lungs. His hair clings to his forehead, slick with cold sweat. He’s smothered in blankets yet he feels frigid down to the bown. He blinks, fuzzy vision coming into focus before blurring from tears that appear when he hacks again, a loud echo bouncing off the walls of his room in the castle. He manages to sit up, hands grasped tightly to his biceps to conserve any warmth he might possibly still have; he’s shivering violently anyway. He swallows, wincing immediately at the scratching pain he feels deep in his throat. A painful itch he can’t scratch no matter how hard he tries. He rubs remnants of sleep from his eyes before swinging his legs over the side of his bed.

That movement alone leaves him lightheaded, swaying unsteadily. Fuck, this isn’t good. He can’t exaclty call for help, he knows he’ll sound hoarse and it’ll be too difficult to hear, especially when everyone’s asleep. He should try to sleep it off, he’ll probably be fine tomorrow anyway. Just a little head cold that a good 8 hour shut-eye will surely fix. But Lance knows his efforts are in vain. He can’t fall back asleep, he’ll wake up in a coughing fit and the cycle will continue until he has to get up to eat. He’d rather sit barely conscious and essentially dry heave every few minutes.

After another series of violent coughs and some spotty vision that leaves Lance sprawled on the floor, he realizes maybe he should get some help, but he doesn’t exaclty know who he should wake up. Pidge is a no go, their sleep is more important than Lance’s life. He’d hate to wake up Hunk, he’s always stressed about missions and the battle with the galra; sleep is his only chance for peace and reflief. Keith would probably try and stab him thinking he’s an intruder, and Lance doesn’t want to risk that. Again. He doesn’t actually know where Allura and Coran sleep, so he comes to the conclusion there’s only one other place for him to go.

Shiro.

The issue here is that Shiro needs the most sleep out of all of the paladins, because of his traumas that often leave him restless and exhausted more often than not. When he can get a good nights sleep, it’s important to let him have that. Lance stresses this the most since the guy’s basically his hero. And crush, a very massive crush, to be clear. So the idea of Lance probably looking sickly pale with his hair missed up all over his head and eye bags as dark as Keiths hair, not exaclty appealing. This is definitley not something he’s looking forward to.

With a sigh, Lance summons any ounce of strength he still has to push himself to a standing position, swaying for a few seconds before stumbling to and out of the door of his room and into the hallway. Except he miscalculates and, noticing too late that Shiros door is open feet away from where he’s destined to fall, manages to all but collapse on hands and knees at the opening. Shiro, having been awoken by nightmares and opened his door to get some air, jerks his head at the sound of Lance’s crash, eyes widening when he sees the boy.

Lance’s arms shake with the combined effort of keeping him from smashing his face into cool metal and shivering from how cold he feels. The impact unsettles his lungs, and he coughs into his hand, looking down at it and seeing a tiny dark pool in his palm. Uh oh. Shiro observes Lance quietly until he sees what is undoubtedly blood that he coughed into his hand, and he’s up in an instant.

“Lance, oh my god are you okay?”

Lance can’t help the glare he sends at Shiro, who winces. Yeah okay, that was a pretty stupid question. But it’s like instinct, and it was out before Shiro could stop himself. He presses a gentle but firm hand to Lance’s back and rubs soothingly, trying not to instantly recoil at the alarmingly low temperature of Lance’s skin. Oh, right. Lance is shirtless. In the middle of Shiros room. With blood still in his hand and the familiar itchy feeling in his throat. His stomach aches, and a wave of nausea washes over his body. He swallows rising bile.

“I..I don’t feel too hot.”

The pun was weak, but Shiro amuses him with a short chuckle. “Let’s get you to Coran, he’ll know what to do.” Lance nods and let’s Shiro help stand him up, praying to any Altean god that Shiro can’t see the blush creeping up his neck and dusting Lance’s cheeks. That’d be embarrassing. But Shiro looks too concerned on Lance’s current physical state to notice his fluster, so maybe Lance does have some luck on his side. He coughs for the umpteenth time, feeling warm blood splatter over his hand as he desperately tries to cover it. Shiros frown deepens, his forehead creased with concern.

“Okay, maybe we should take you straight to the pods, and then get Coran.”

Lance can’t do anything but nod, which was a mistake after another wave of nausea crashes into him like a freight train. He dry heaves, letting Shiro gently drag him toward the healing pods. Eventually he resorts to lifting Lance bridal style and carrying him the rest of the way, pacing quickening each time Lance lets out a horrendous cough that rings in his ears. He needs to get Lance to a pod before whatever sickness that comes over him does some irreversible damage. He just recently has come to terms with his feelings, he refuses to let the boy out of his grasp when he’s this close to voicing his emotions.

Lance makes a note of how Shiro is carrying him almost effortlessly, the thought distracting him from the throbbing pain of his head, scratchiness of his throat, soreness of his muscles, and ache in his chest. It doesn’t last long and he’s soon consumed once more by the dark shadows of agony that curl at the edges of his vision. He’s going to pass out soon, he can feel it in the way his limbs feel leaded and heavy and the spotted vision is now a a wave of black that occasionally sweeps over his eyes. Shiro feels Lance’s weight shift underneath him, and his expression grows worried when he sees how pale Lances face is, dried blood a stark contrast on desaturated lips. He looks…dead.

He shakes his head, dismissing the thought before it can bloom into full heated panic, and he finally gets to the healing pods. He adjusts Lance so his body his folded over one of Shiro’s shoulders, and he peers at the control panel in front of one of the pods. Everything’s in Altean, and Shiro can’t make out any of the foreign text. He lets out a frustrated sigh before he slams his robotic fist into the panel. Sparks shoot out as the entire panel cracks with electricity, smoke emitting from a large gash caused by the galra prosthetic. To Shiros surprise, the pod opened, and he carefully transported Lance inside, weary of his physical state and careful not to disturb him further.

When Lance moans in agony, Shiros expression softens and he swipes a flesh thumb along Lances cheek bone. He whispers soothing reassurances that lull Lance to sleep before he plants a chaste kiss to his forehead, stepping back, and watching as the high-tech pod seals itself shut. Now he needs to get Coran so he can check on Lance’s vitals. But he really doesn’t want to leave Lance here like this, especially when he’s not even sure if the pod is working. A few seconds pass in heavy silence, Shiro staring at Lance’s near-lifeless state, conflicted. He weighs the pros and cons. If he goes and gets Coran, he can help determine what’s wrong with Lance and hopefully help him get better. However, Lance’s vitals could be fluctuating, and if he leaves him unattended, he could die while Shiros gone. With a heavy sigh, he turns and sprints full speed toward Coran’s room, screeching to a halt before he breaks through the fancy altean architecture.

“Coran! Coran! I need your help!”

His voice is scratchy and borderline desperate, but Shiro can’t be bothered to care right now. He needs to hurry before Lance flatlines. He hears a shuffling of feet outside the room before a very tired and very irritated looking Coran opens the door.

“Shiro, what on all quiznaki-“

“Lance looks deathly pale and he’s really sick and he could be dying so I put him in a pod but i don’t know if the pod is working and he looks really bad and I just need your help.”

The words come out in a rush, a wave of anxiety and fear that leaves Shiro breathless and almost shaking where he stands. He looks at Coran pleadingly, who blinks twice before breaking past Shiro and down the hall toward the pods. Shiro heaves a relieved sigh, sprinting after Coran, praying to every planet’s god that Lance is still alive. When they do get down to the pods, he hears the familiar beep indicating Lance’s heart is still beating, and the wave of relief that washes over him almost makes him sob with joy. Lance is alive, and he’s able to be here with him while Coran figures out what exaclty is wrong with him.

After a few thoughtful hums, moustsche twirls, and tapping of buttons, Coran turns to give Shiro his full attention.

“It appears that Lance has contracted a sickness that was transmitted to him from the last planet we visited. The affects in the population are relatively similar to the Earths common cold, but it’s seems Lance is showing more…extreme levels of the symptoms.”

Shiro frowns at the vague explanation Coran has offered. “He’s going to be okay, right?”

Coran brightens. “Oh! Yes of course, he’ll be fine. But he is currently comatose and will have to remain in the pods until the disease wears off. Should be more than a few quintants.”

Shiro raises an eyebrow questionly.

“…A few days, as you would call it.”

Shiro nods, gaze lingering on the thin boy almost lifeless behind the glowing teal of the healing pod. His face is expressionless, eyes shut and skin lacking their usual red flush. The uneasiness churns in Shiros gut, bitter and unrelenting even with the reassurance that Lance is going to be okay. He looks so out of place, unlivlely and charismatic, and it’s driving Shiro insane. But he knows he has to be patient, and that once Lance wakes up his usual flush will return to his cheeks, his eyes regaining their sharp blue that sparkles in the light like the sun on ocean waves. He just has to wait.

Patience is a krypotnite, and Shiro feels weakened by each hour that passes without a familiar cocky smirk or flirtatious wink. He sits under Lances pod, waiting. The silence is numb and buzzing in his ears, the lack of Coran’s conversational chatter long gone.

This was going to take a while.

This one hurts. Not because El’s weak—but because the world is. The glares, the quiet cruelty of being watched in a body that doesn’t pass quietly.

She doesn’t say much here—but she doesn’t have to. Her eyes, her posture, the internal scream when someone says “step on the scale”… it’s all there.

But still—she boards the plane. She sits. She breathes. She survives.

Shance- Touch Starved and Zip it :)———————————————————

“Are we there yet?” “No.” “How about now?” “Nope.” “Are we at least close.” “Lance, I love you, but please shut the fuck up.”

Lance huffs a breath of annoyance but promptly closes his mouth, opting for looking around at the scenery framing the path he and Shiro are walking on. The trees have begun to transform from light and deep shades of green to soft oranges and bright yellows, a hint of red here and there.

Autumn is Lances favorite season, mostly because he loves watching the leaves change colors to match the sunset, and he relishes the change in temperature, the cool breeze hitting his face and whipping his hair over his eyes. He inhales deeply, contentment mixing with the air to settle deep into his chest. It feels good, he feels good.

But there’s one thing he’s missing, and it’s what’s keeping a little pout on his features, not letting him fully enjoy his experience in the great outdoors. He’s missing touch, that tell tale feeling of skin on skin contact that warms his body and makes him feel bubbly from the inside out. Gives him that sweet release of something that calms his nerves and settles his twisting gut whenever he gets anxious. He craves touch more than he likes to admit, but he can’t help the way is body was programmed. And right now he’s hyper focused on that sickly sweet feeling, wishing more than anything the man next to him will get his mental message to grab his hand or brush his fingers over he forearm. Just, anything, any sort of contact. But Shiros preoccupied with the phone in his hand, scanning over the GPS that holds the directions for wherever they’re supposed to be walking.

Lance sighs, stuffing his hands in his pockets as if that’d help him take his mind off the itch crawling over his tan skin. He needs a distraction, something that can hold his attention for just long enough that Shiro stops looking at his phone and takes Lances hand. But he can only stare at nature for so long before he begins to see repetition in the foliage, and his brain zones out the scenery because it becomes bored. They walk in silence, the only sound the gentle taps of Shiros fingers over his phone screen as he scrolls through the directions.

“This way, we’re almost there, I promise.”

Shiro turns them left, and Lance noticed the path widening as they continue walking, eyes trained on the dirt and rocks that are scattered by their footsteps. He doesn’t hear Shiro stop walking in front of him, and suddenly slams into his back with an “oomph!” Shiro grabs his arm before he can fall on his ass, and Lance let’s out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding. Shiros touching his arm, the warmth bleeding through the sleeves of Lances jacket and burning his skin. It feels amazing.

He latches on to the touch, using it to pull himself to a standing position, finding his balance and mentally willing himself to stay in one place. Shiro doesn’t let go of him, and Lance is grateful for that. He intertwines their fingers, electricity buzzing through his veins and pulsating in his chest, his heart filling with that familiar warmth of being with Shiro. The soft fond vibes that twist in his gut and make his heart flutter. He rests his head on Shiros shoulder, who blindly leads them to the large canopy-like structure with a small white table underneath. Red candles flicker with lit flames when they approach, and as they sit, Lance smells hickory. His favorite scent.

He smiles up at Shiro. “You didn’t have to do this.”

Shiro looks down at Lance and plants a soft kiss onto his cold lips. “You wouldn’t shut up about a romantic date, clearly I did.” There was no heat behind his words, but teasing filtered through like vines. Lance blushed, looking down at thier intertwined hands on the table.

“I consider any date with you romantic, Kashi…”

Shiros smile widened, softening at the edges as his heart soared with affection. He hugged Lance close to him and buried his face into his hair, smelling sweet coconut shampoo that he bought for him on their two year anniversary. They remained silent, sitting close and leaving no space between them. It was a good silence, content, and Lances heart was bubbling from the touch of Shiro. He could feel his breath, soft and warm, spreading through his body and relaxing him. He closed his eyes, let more of his weight fall into Shiro, and before he realized what was happening, he was asleep.

Shiro heard the soft snores Lance denied he would ever release while he slept, and kissed he top of his head.

“I love you, Kitten.”

Shance- Distance———————————————————Lance stumbles into his college dorm, papers strewn over every piece of furniture, cafe made coffee cups scattered all over the small table in front of an even smaller tv. He throws his backpack aside and slouches into the comfy recliner he bought from a yard sale (comfy is an understatement, but it was cheap, alright?). He pulls out his laptop, covered in cat stickers and characters from various animes he watches. He thrums his fingers over the top, thinking.

After a minute or so of intense contemplation (not really) he opens the computer, logging in and opening up the document containing his bio lab. He’s gotta get this thing done so Hunk will leave his ass alone about it, but every time he so much as looks at the first instruction his brain short circuits and he closes his computer before his head explodes. This time, however, he’s going to focus, and he’s going to get this project done.

That is, until an incoming skype call flashes over his currently open tab, a familiar face squished next to his own coming into Lances vision. He smiles and bounces excitedly, pulse spiking as he accepts the call.

“Kashi!”

“Hey, kitten.”

His voice is fond filtering through Lances laptop speakers, a little thick from waking up just under an hour ago. He smiles bright at his jittery boyfriend, hair spiking in every direction. Shiro wipes a hand down his face in a last minute attempt to make himself look presentable before Lance is talking.

“Hey babe! God i’ve missed you so much, schools been so hard this semester. It’s kicking my ass, and I was just about to start my homework when you called. Speaking of which, how early is it for you? You look like you just rolled out of bed?”

Shiro chuckles at Lances quick transitions between subjects of conversation before huffing out a breath.

“It’s earlier than I’d like to admit. But I missed your beautiful face and voice, so I figured a surprise call would be good for the both of us.”

Lance’s grin is blinding and contagious, Shiro finding himself smiling at his goofy dork of a boyfriend. Lance sets his laptop on the table in front of him, elbows propping up onto his knees so he can rest his head in his hands.

“Yeah, it’s hard being this far apart. But I promise after this semester I’ll come home. How is everyone?”

“Well, since you and Hunk left, I’d say it’s been pretty hectic. Keith got arrested again, Pidge tried to hack into NASAs god knows what, and I’ve been aging by the minute trying to keep up with the two of them.”

Lance laughs, smile soft. He runs a hand through his hair before continuing.

“That sounds…enjoyable. Good thing I’m over wasting away at college instead.” His smile turns teasing. “You really are getting old, huh?”

Shiro scoffs. “Hardly. I have more muscle on me than skin at this point.” That pulls another laugh from Lance, and Shiro gasps in fake offense. “It’s true!”

“Whatever you say, babe.”

“You’re a mean boyfriend.”

“Yet you love me.”

“I don’t know why.”

Silence settles between the two of them, Lance’s grin a soft light in Shiro’s dark bedroom. It’s then that Shiro really takes a look at Lance. He hasn’t seen him in so long, he almost forgot how beautful he is. His eyes an ocean blue, small irises sparkling in the light. Brown hair, soft to the touch, and tan skin littered with freckles, constellations on Lances body. Shiro used to trace them adamantly while they lay in bed together, usually when Lance needs some sort of stress relief. Shiros fingers feel warm and light when they make contact with Lances skin, and he wants to drown himself in Shiros smell whenever they’re close.

They can’t do that right now obviously, but they like to pretend they can. It’s what’s kept them together while being so far apart.

Lance sighs, voice quiet. “I really miss you..”

“I know, kitten. I miss you too. Two more months and then we’ll see each other again, yeah?”

Lance nods, a small pout on his face. He looks away from the camera, eyes downcast as he wills himself not to let any tears fall. God would that be embarrassing.

“Hey,” It’s gentle, coaxing. Lance glances up at the screen.

“We’ll be together again soon, and when we are I’ll make sure to scoop you up and pepper you with as many kisses as I possibly can before I lose my breath. And then we’ll spend the whole day out on the town, just the two of us, together. Sounds good yeah?”

Lance let’s the corner of lip tilt upward at the thought of finally seeing Shiro in person again, and he nods before he can stop himself.

“I can’t wait.”

Touch starved sheith? on my tumblr? it’s more likely than you think———————————————————Keith comes home (aka his run down apartment) each night feeling like somethings missing. It’s probably because there is something missing, he just can’t bring himself to think long enough about what it could be. It’s not like he cares, because he doesn’t. It doesn’t bother him to the point where he lies awake most nights thinking about that one specific thing. He doesn’t care, never has, never will.

Except he does.

He cares a lot, and until he can figure out what that something is, he lies awake, jittery and anxious as his mind reels, gears turning as he tries his damned hardest to remember. One particular night strikes him the most. Hes lying in bed, pajamas loosely hugging his body as he stares at the ceiling, his black hair spilling across his pillow. It takes a second before he notices it, but once he does, he shivers. He feels goosebumps dance across his skin, in one specific place, not his entire body. It’s on his left bicep, just above his elbow. It’s frighteningly cold compared to the rest of his body, and when he looks down at it, he notices how pale that specific area is.

Well, that’s concerning.

He sits up, confused but curious as the ice chill in his arm begins to spread, like wildfire, across the rest of his body. It sends a shock down his spine, through his chest and legs, makes him curl his toes. The sudden cold has his chest feeling constricted, and he’s not sure what he’s feeling, but he knows it isn’t good. He silently gets out of bed, careful not to wake his roommate. The floor creaks with his weight, and Keith cringes, now full body shivering as he makes his way to the door of his bedroom.

He glances across from him, seeing his roommates door completley open, no sign of a sleeping lump among the tossed away blankets and indented pillow. Shiros awake. Keith blinks and looks at the clock in his room with fuzzy vision, eyes stil tired from the sudden loss of sleep.

3:30 a.m.

Why the fuck is Shiro awake at 3:30 a.m.?

Keith quietly enters the hallway and makes his way to the small kitchen, arms held tightly across his body in a futile attempt to retain whatever warmth he has left. He sees Shiro sitting at the small counter that circles around into the main cooking area, a steaming mug of coffee resting in a shaky hand.

He’s shaking too. So it’s not just Keith. Huh.

Shiro doesn’t notice Keith less than 20 feet away, so Keith clears his throat to announce his presence. It jolts Shiro out of whatver daze he was present in, turning his head to the source of the noise. His eyes settle on Keith, eyes widen in before relaxing at the company.

“Are you as fucking cold as I am right now?”

It’s blunt, an outburst Shiros used to hearing. He sets his mug down before nodding, his arms moving to hug himself similar to the way Keith is. His white tuft of hair bounces gently on his head while he shivers, and Keith notices how absolutely sleep deprived this man is. He takes a step closer.

“What the hell is happening to us?”

No response from Shiro, not something new to Keiths ears. Just gives him more time to walk over and sit next to Shiro, who takes a sip from the coffee mug. From the way Shiros teeth chatter, the hot drink isn’t really doing its job.

However it doesn’t have to, because as soon as Keith’s shoulder brushes against Shiro’s heat blossoms where their skin touches. They both jump, startled by the sudden change in body temperature, and look at each other with confusion. Keith reaches a tentative hand to rest on top of Shiro’s, and as soon as he makes contact the heat returns, spreading up his arm and filling his chest with pure blissful warmth. Shiro sighs next to him, feeling something akin to a flower of warmth blossoming in his chest.

Without really thinking, Keith leans into Shiro’s side, melting in the radiating heat he suddenly feels. Strong arms wraps themselves around his small body, encasing the both of them in relieving heat. Electricity fires in Keiths heart, and they remain close, sitting in silence until Keiths eyes droop, fluttering shut. His breathing evens, and before he falls asleep he hears the mumbled words Shiro speaks into his hair. Soft, reassuring,

“I love you”