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yeahhiyellow · 3 years ago

Note

19, 22 and 23? :^)

19. What is the one thing you hate most about your fandom?

Tbh there are a lot of things I hate, although by this point it's only very certain parts of the fandom that have these problems, since most of the shitty people have lost interest by this point. If I had to choose just one thing though, it'd be the overwhelming focus on white, male characters over female and/or characters of color. And there are a lot of areas where this shows up. One major example is that a lot of people like the idea of Connor, Hank, Gavin, and Nines (all white, male characters, mind you) staying at the DPD even after:

The DPD was the one (along with Cyberlife) responsible for the deaths, arrests, and brutal treatment of androids, the main oppressed group in the game's world

Connor and Nines are a part of that oppressed group, and at least Hank is shown in game to support them

Connor has already worked at the DPD and was routinely called an "it" (which as someone who is nonbinary and has been called "it" knows how insulting that can be and understands the need to get away from situations where that happens), was allowed to be sent to his death by, and was routinely harassed and nearly murdered, or in some playthroughs actually murdered, by workers at the DPD (*ahem Gavin ahem*)

Hank (if he is your friend) risked his career just to cause a distraction for Connor to keep him alive

Just because the android revolution was successful doesn't mean the DPD was going to follow that. I mean, the androids were heavily compared to African Americans in this game, and we all know how the current police system treats them (and if you don't, pay attention to the news, like, ever. Also read Jim Crow as that book is very informative on the oppression of blacks in the entire incarceration system as well as before and after that)

So I hope it would be pretty obvious to any sane person that suggesting these characters would join/remain in the DPD after everything is offensive on all sorts of levels.

In addition to that, you also have some people saying that they only cared about Connor's story, or that his was the only good one. The female protagonist that risks her own life several times to save that of a child (no matter if she is human or android)? Not important. The (half) black protagonist who is shot by police, has to rebuild himself, and leads his own people to freedom? Who cares? The only important story to these people is the white, male, cop android who spends most of his time hunting down the good guys. And if some people honestly prefer Connor's story because of their own reasons, that's fine. And yes, Kara and Markus's stories have lots of problems. But Connor's does too, and none of this gives people an excuse to ignore the other characters, especially since they are the minority characters. Then, there are also the people who say Connor's machine path was better than his deviant path, or that him being replaced by Nines in the end was unfair. And... what the fuck??? I mean, I get it, it's fun to play through different options, and Connor is hella badass in the machine path. But he is also hella badass in the deviant path (killing the guards in the elevator, possibly the team at the bottom if he doesn't catch the security camera, fighting Sixty, walking in front of all the androids he freed, like, come on), and he also, like, has morals and isn't oppressive??? In the machine route, he kills his own people, including those who just want to be free and might have been completely pacifist the entire way through. So I'm sorry, anyone who thinks his machine path is better is just looking for an excuse to be oppressive without openly admitting it.

Then there's the Gavin apologizers. While fanon Gavin is awesome, some people have way overstepped the line of redemption and allowing oppression. I've seen posts defending Gavin's in-game behavior, just because he refers to androids as "he" on occasion. This is despite:

Suggesting "roughing up," or being violent to Shaolin (the HK400 in "The Interrogation")

Insulting his partner, Chris, when he doesn't forcibly move Shaolin against Shaolin's will

Pointing a gun at Connor after Connor rightfully says to stop touching Shaolin for both succeeding the mission and for Shaolin's sake, and only stepping down after Hank points a gun at him and even after insults Connor

Punching Connor right in the thirium pump regulator and then pushing his head right where his LED is in the break room if Connor refuses to get him a coffee

Insulting and threatening Connor in the same scene even if Connor follows all of his demands

Insulting Hank's alcoholism in the Eden Club "it's starting to stink of booze in here"

Purposely pushing Connor to the side in the same scene

Trying to literally murder Connor and admitting he'd wanted to kill him ever since he first saw Connor, sometimes successfully

Both physically and verbally assaulting Connor

I forgive very easily and strongly believe in redemption, don't get me wrong. But trying to excuse Gavin's behaviors is so inexcusable, especially when most of his aggressions are towards androids, the oppressed minority.

Now, let's look at Ao3, shall we? Let's see how many fics posted there are with each of the "main" (including Gavin and Nines since even though they are not main characters in canon they are in fanon) characters... (also, keep in mind, I gathered this data about a month ago so it might not be completely up to date):

Connor: 16,150

Markus: 5,395

Kara: 1,504

Hank: 13,135

Nines: 9,807

Gavin: 9,939

Amanda: 1,177

Chloe: 1,521

North: 3,056

Simon: 3,192

Josh: 1,965

Alice: 1,098

Luther: 848

Rose: 193

This means that certain characters get unequal amounts of attention:

White: 59,042

Black: 9,578

Male: 60,431

Female: 8,549

White, Male: 52,223

White, Female: 7,179

Black, Male: 8,208

Black, Female: 1,370

Well, this says a lot. Now, some people reading this might realize that there are more white and male characters to begin with, so it could be fair even with their numbers being higher. So, okay, let's see the average amount of works a single character in each of the above categories would have (so divide each of the values by the number of characters in that category) (also I rounded to the tenth place aka first decimal point):

White: 6,560.2

Black: 1,915.6

Male: 7,553.9

Female: 1,424.8

White, Male: 10,444.6

White, Female: 1,794.8

Black, Male: 2,736

Black, Female: 685

If anything, these are even more telling. And if you don't believe me, look on Ao3 and calculate these yourself, because you'll get the same thing.

To be clear, I don't have anything against Connor, Hank, or any of the white and/or male characters. I even like the way that the fandom has redeemed Gavin. But the fandom has not done the same job of redeeming other characters, especially the minority ones, and pays way less attention to them, and that needs to be called out with evidence by someone.

Anyway, I spent a LONG time on that first question, so I'll try to make the next answers shorter!

22. Popular character you hate?

There aren't any popular characters that I thoroughly hate. The only characters I hate are ones that are already highly unpopular (Todd, Zlatko, Perkins). If we're talking canon characters, I do hate Gavin with a flaming passion. I mean, he is meant to represent police brutality. But fanon Gavin is cool with me, so I'm not sure exactly how much this counts.

There is one semi-popular character that I dislike though, and that is Kamski. I'm half-counting him again because within the fandom there are very mixed opinions. I personally dislike him mainly because of his treatment of one of his Chloe's: he is willing to let her get shot in the head and killed just to find a dumb answer to his Kamski test just because he feels like it. If Connor doesn't shoot Chloe, he tells Connor he's deviant, knowing full well that Amanda and Cyberlife are watching being the one to design the program, endangering Connor. While he arguably is responsible for deviancy and wants androids to succeed, that doesn't make up for those facts.

Another character that half-counts is Daniel. There are mixed opinions within the fandom on him as well, with some arguing that he is only wanting to not get replaced and protect himself. However, since his first response was to kill the dad, and then he proceeded to shoot at least 3 more cops, killing 2, and hold Emma, the young girl he had been friends with for years hostage, even though she had nothing to do with his replacement. You can't argue that he didn't want to kill Emma and only used her as protection for himself, either, as there are multiple endings where he tries and sometimes succeeds in killing Emma, even when he is also killing himself. I'm not closed to a redemption arc for him, but his in-game actions are inexcusable. He's the one deviant who truly has no valid defense for his actions.

23. Unpopular character you love?

There are a few. I absolutely adore North, Josh, Adam, and Alice, even though the fandom has conflicted opinions on them. Then again, none of these characters are really considered unpopular, just not as popular as others with a select few that don't like them. With North, I've been in this fandom since a few months after its release, when there was a lot of North hatred, and was actually in a group called the North Protection Squad lol. However, now most people like her, and she's really grown in popularity. With Josh, it's less that he's hated, and more that he's ignored. People say that Simon was the peaceful option when he was really the neutral, and recently I've seen more people against Josh's opinions on the revolution. While I don't always agree with Josh being so passive and undemanding (neither do I agree with North's violence), he's still an awesome character with some very valid points. Then, I do understand why some people dislike Adam, as at first he's against androids and almost reveals Kara and the others. However, if you meet him at the border crossing, he apologizes to Kara and changes his mind, promising to help androids. While he may start out scared and not on the right side, he does have a good heart and ends up making the right decisions in the end. With Alice, I haven't seen many people hate her, either, although I have seen some saying she's annoying and lacks a personality. I agree that she lacks a personality, although I argue that's the writers' faults rather than her character's (as are problems with other characters, I mean David Cage wrote this so what were we expecting). I also don't think she's annoying, as after all she is only 9 (in human terms), doesn't admit she's an android because she's scared Kara will reject her (and Kara actually can reject her for being an android, leaving her completely on her own in a world that wants her dead. Also, living her whole life with Todd can absolutely not help her feel more secure with who she is or make her trust Kara to still love her for it), and she is only cold and feels sick because her model of android is literally designed to replicate human sickness and discomfort (and it's clear she doesn't know how to turn them off, because even after Kara knows she's an android Kara still has to help Alice not feel cold anymore. Also, this is November in Detroit, in which the average temperature is 42°F (5.6°C). There are also scenes where it is snowing, meaning the temperature is below freezing. Still, despite the temperatures, in some scenes not having a coat, and feeling sick, she says Kara and Luther can't stop because of her, risks her life to save Kara's if you fail QTEs, and says she's "fine" even when she's cold to comfort Kara. So if you think she can be annoying, yeah, all 9-year-olds can be. But if you think she's annoying enough to actually hate her, idek what to say).

In terms of characters that are really unpopular, I actually like Leo. His actions at first are inexcusable. I mean, accusing Carl of loving an android more than hin, insulting Markus and treating him as less than human, threatening him, breaking into Carl's house and attempting to steal his paintings for drug money, and framing Markus for Carl's death leading to him getting shot and nearly killed are obviously not okay things to do. However, he is clearly on drugs, specifically red ice, the most dangerous drug in the world. Also, if you decide to push Markus leading Carl to still be alive, when you return to Carl's house, you can find a message Leo sent to Carl in which he apologizes for everything and promises it won't happen again. In the extras section, you also find out Carl missed out on Leo's whole childhood, only first meeting him once he was much older. Given that Carl spends all of his days pleasantly conversing with Markus while ignoring Leo, not calling him, only talking to Leo once he comes around himself, and doesn't even argue when Leo says Carl doesn't love him, it's almost fair that Leo thinks the way he does. Since he's also high on drugs throughout the story, at least up until Markus gets shot, we also know that the Leo we see isn't the real Leo. Later, if Carl is dead and Markus visits his grave, he encounters Leo again. This time, when Leo sees Markus he is only shocked. Now, off of red ice, not only is he going to see Carl's grave, expressing love for his father, he also doesn't try to hurt Markus, insult him, or anything mean or dehumanizing. His expression lacks any signs of aggression. It was only when he was high that he was such an asshole. Although that doesn't excuse his behavior, it does give a reason for it, and by the end I consider him redeemed.

~~~

Wow... that was a long response to a very short ask. No need to read all that (although I would highly suggest reading my first answer, at least, since that does contain some very relevant points). Although then again, if you've made it here, you've probably already read all that. In which case I would love to hear your opinions if you're willing to share (as well as anyone who sees this!) I guess I just had a lot of opinions that I needed to put out in the world lol, so thank you sm for the ask!!!!! 💛💛💛

#dbh #dbh meta #dbh analysis #my opinions #asks #detroit: become human #racism #misogyny #abuse

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the-silentium · 4 years ago

Text

Evolution

Masterlist

Pairing: Five Hargreeves x Android!Reader

Words: 7372 words

Warnings: TUA season 1, swearing, mention of blood.

Requested by: Anon

Could you do a Five Hargreeves x reader where Y/N is an AI and is held hostage by the commission. Y/N is best “friends” with Five and Five saves them and they kiss. Thx

A/N: Oups? Remember I said 3000 more words? Well, it was more like 5000. But hey! I had so much fun writing it! When I saw AI!Reader, I immediately thought about Detroit Become Human and how perfectly an Android would fit with Five!

Commission headquarter

June 16th, 1955

PM 13:45:07

You were currently working peacefully at your desk, a manila folder opened between your hands presenting you the details of your next assignment. You analyzed the facts and probabilities of every possible scenario, every possible victim whose death would be the least suspicious but would cause the optimal result. While Herb got up from his desk to greet the lady in the doorway, your programs ran hundreds of possibilities and found the best option for your case.

With acute precision, your fingers typed the name of a Starbucks barista whose absence at his usual evening shift would enrage his manager who would throw a fit in front of his customers, triggering an extreme reaction out of a young man whose antipsychotic prescription hasn’t been renewed in time for him to take his dose as advised. Said young man would, in a desperate attempt to defend himself from a non-existent threat, take a pocket-knife out of his too-large hoodie and stab the brunette next to him who looked too much like his abusive father 27 times before hurrying off into the crowded streets, leaving the man whose after-work activities was to develop a - successful- new technology allowing people to travel through space in a matter of seconds, bleed to death on the dirty floor of a too popular coffee shop.

TERMINATE EVERETT BLAKE FOR IMMEDIATE EXTRACTION.

There, the timeline was preserved and your task was done. You put the new piece of typed paper on the growing pile at the corner of your desk before grabbing another folded, ready to start the process again. Just as your eyes finished scanning the first line, Herb called your Commission given name, causing you to look up in wonder.

“Ivy! Your presence has been requested by the Handler.” His hands joined in front of him, a futile attempt at hiding his discomfort. He wasn’t the first one who you noticed to be intimidated by the woman of power. Your behavior analysis of the woman told you that she was a manipulative woman with a need for power, who would stop at nothing to assure that she was at the very top of the food chain. You could easily understand why everyone you ever met in these walls showed signs of stress or even fear at the simple mention of her title.

//MEET WITH THE HANDLER

You nodded as the new orders registered into your programming and took the terminating orders to give them to your superior.

“Could you kindly give these to Gloria while I meet the Handler?” You asked with your signature smile. You knew that despite your coding forcing you to be polite with everyone, you would always smile to that man. He has always been friendly and caring towards you whilst others loved to persecute you every chance they got.

“Oh! Sure.” He took the pile from your hands, careful to not drop them in the process. “You really are efficient.” His awe at the 64 cards present in his hands clearly showed on his face.

You smiled once more, the compliment warming something inside you, causing the circular led on your temple to flash yellow for a quick second before returning to its usual calm blue. You had lost enough time as it was, so you quickly made your way to the vast office and knocked softly at the door the second you reached them.

You opened the door and made your way inside at the muffled invitation to come in. The colorful woman sitting at her own desk pointed you a seat next to a white-haired man in a dark suit. You couldn’t help but make a quick analysis of the new man, scanning his face and searching for his file in the Commission’s database. Well, more like your database, seeing as the Commission liked to keep everything on paper so you had to scan every file yourself to keep track of everything and everyone.

Number Five.

53 years old.

Born on October 1st, 1989.

Enhanced field agent.

Abilities: Teleportation, time-travelling.

Number Five was found in the apocalyptic world caused by 2019’s meteor shower. His unequaled competence in his line of work makes him a priceless asset to the Commission.

Just as you lowered yourself into your seat, the Handler pointed from the man to you multiple times. “Number Five, this is Ivy. Ivy, Number Five. You two are assigned to work together on this next assignment.” She slowly pushed a white folder at the edge of the desk.

“I don’t need a partner.” You turned to meet the eyes of the man whose annoyance didn’t need an elaborated analysis to be understood. His eyes moved curiously over your attire, memorizing every particularity of it. He noted how futuristic you looked in your two-tone dark dress that reached your mid-tight, your half white and black jacket, and the slightly glowing blue band around your right upper arm. He quickly noticed numbers on the right part of your jacket, like a weird name tag imprinted into the fabric and the word Android at the back.

Back to you, you notice the lack of stress behavior that you were used to seeing on people gravitating around the Handler. The man was relaxed, his hands were still, his eyes were bored minus the moment where curiosity took hold of him when his eyes moved over your form, his cortisol level was normal, and his heart rate within the average for a man his age.

“So does she. Don’t take it personally, Five, but for this mission, you will need her analyzing skills.” She turned to you, her smile dropping slightly. “Everything you need is in the folder. You can wait outside.”

You made your way to the desk after nodding once. The folder was a bit thicker than what you were usually given, but it wasn't a problem. You carefully closed the door, the usual nagging feeling of eyes following your every movement making you tighten your grip onto the folder. You leaned on the wall opposite the door, waiting for your new partner to come out.

//WAIT FOR NUMBER FIVE

You couldn't help but raise the sensitivity of your hearing. Your new partner was a total mystery and learning a bit more about him before the beginning of this mission would be of great help.

“What the hell is she?”

“An android! An artificial intelligence if you will. Can you believe it? A machine looking perfectly like a human made to serve humans!”

“You mean a slave.” Something inside you cringed at the word, but you chose to ignore it, for this wasn't relevant to your personal mission of getting to know your partner.

“Machines don’t have will Number Five, they are made to obey.”

You frowned as some muttering reached your ears, the words totally incomprehensible even with your enhanced senses. Footsteps resonated into the room, you opened the file and started reading the first lines just as the door opened on a frustrated man.

“Oh and please Five, take care of her. I went to great lengths to get one of her models and we don’t have anything to repair her in this timeline.”

Five had the audacity to close the door pretty harshly, the sound echoing through the whole floor and almost causing you to short circuit at the explosion resonating in your head. Quickly, you turned down your hearing to an average level and followed the agent who was walking away, determination in his steps.

//FOLLOW NUMBER FIVE

You walked after him, left and right, before finally reaching what you recognized as a kitchen. Being an Android, you never had to come here before even if the lovely Dot had more than once asked you to join her for lunch. Number Five stopped before a coffee machine quickly grabbed a cup from one of the shelves and poured himself some of the dark liquid.

“A too high consumption of caffeine will someday cause you health problems such as anxiety, insomnia, high blood pressure and some digestive issues among other things. Seeing as the caffeine level in your bloodstream is already high, I would suggest that you consider drinking Matcha tea or lemon water instead.”

The white-haired agent slowly turned to you while taking a long sip. The blank stare you received from over the rim of the cup didn’t phase you in the slightest, you were used to worse after all.

“Is that all you can do? Give me shitty advice on my coffee addiction?” You deciphered a slight annoyance behind his words, so you tried to correct your shot.

“No, of course not. My model was designed to assess even the most precarious situations and find ways to achieve my superiors’ goals with a 100% success rate even if the probabilities are minimal. Here, I am mainly used to form strategies behind a desk, but I also have the programming of my fellow model RK800 which allows me to be on the field and be just as efficient.”

Number Five’s expression was hard to read, to say the least. His straight face was so flawless that even your advanced behavioral analysis program couldn’t decrypt his feelings. He continued to stare at you while drinking his dark drink, his thoughts running a mile an hour. After a minute, he nodded once, put the empty cup into the sink and walked away.

Once again, you followed his every step, walking deeper into the maze that was the Commission’s headquarters. In the two years you passed under their service, you never really took the time to explore the complex. You were totally fine with your simple routine consisting of two simple tasks: working and resting at your charger station situated in a small storage room. It wasn’t what you were used to back at CyberLife, but this was your new reality so you went with it.

Your new partner stopped before a brightly lit room, shelves full of clothes adorned the walls, display stands just as packed of the colorful fabrics took the majority of the room. A hand on the small of your back slowly pushed you inside, his own feet following after you.

“If you’re going on the field, you’ll need a change of clothes.” He simply said, eyeing the base of your dress.

You nodded, your gaze wandered on the displayed clothes. You went for what was the most practical in the field, some dark leggings with a pair of high boots that had the smallest heels you could find. You definitely would have preferred some sort of shoes that would be a better fit for running, but apparently this wasn’t a possibility. Then you grabbed a long-sleeved white shirt that looked comfortable enough before making your way to the changing rooms.

Satisfied with your new attire, you made your way back to Number Five, your usual clothes in hand.

“Can you turn this off?” He asked, gesturing to the blue circle on your right temple. You shook your head from side to side, his lips forming a tight line before going to get something at the back of the room. He came back with a beanie in hand. “Put this on.” He said as he gave you the accessory and turned around to exit the room.

You quickly put the hat on the best you could with only one hand and hurried after him.

The whole mission went on without a hitch. You completed your goal alongside Number Five, who started insisting that you called him only Five, and returned at your office under Herb’s care.

You missed the thrill you felt while being on the field with Five. It hasn’t always been easy, but with time you knew you had found a friend into the 58 years-old man. At first, you had a habit of telling him facts that he didn’t care about much like the coffee one, but you soon realized that it only made him roll his eyes in annoyance so you stopped rambling altogether.

He had asked you questions about your origins and about yourself. His genuine interest made something move inside you, something new. During the whole 6 days mission, you had run a grand total of 17 self-diagnosis of your system that all came back negative. The instability of your software was slightly rising whenever the male praised your work or complimented your skills.

It was time for lunch, your human colleagues exited the room talking between them, their excited discussions about what to eat filled the room before fading as they made their way to the kitchen. Once again, you found yourself alone surrounded by empty tables and utter silence. You were about to grab another file, ready to work through the hour break, when a forced cough caught your attention.

You smiled at the sight, your newest friend leaning in the doorway, a white box in hand.

“Wanna join me for lunch?” It always confused you why the man took the utmost care of asking if you wanted something instead of just ordering you to.

“I am a machine, what I want is not important.” You repeated for the 37th time, causing his eyes to roll in a dismissive manner for the 37th time.

“For me it is.” You tilted your head at his dead-serious tone. “I told you. I’ll never order you to do anything.”

//Software instability ↑

You were grateful that he chose to never force you to do anything. Why? You had no idea.

You pondered for a bit. Do you want it? The thought wasn’t unpleasant that was for sure, moreover, your actual goal wouldn’t be affected by an hour off with your friend. You made up your mind, nodding excitedly as you mirrored the genuine smile plastered on his face. You walked alongside him towards the crowded cafeteria where you found an available table in a corner. Five pulled your chair for you before sitting right in front of you.

“Back in your dress and jacket? Don’t you have any other clothes?” He asked fork in hand, ready to dig into his lasagna.

“My Android outfit is mandatory by the American Androids Act. It allows people to clearly identify me as an Android and not a human.” You heard the man mutter something about a stupid law before your gaze wandered around when the weight of eyes judging your presence became too much to ignore.

In your peripheral, you could see Five turn around and shoot the snoopers with his murderous glare, successfully making them squirm onto their seats and look elsewhere.

“I am sorry if being around me is a bother.” Five shook his head at your statement, resuming eating.

“You don’t have to be sorry. Mankind is the most idiotic species of this planet, we can’t help but target what we don’t understand.”

You frowned at his words, finding flaws. “But you are human, Number Five, and you are far from being an idiot.”

The man chuckled at your apparent confusion. “Well, for one, thank you. I dare say that I am an exception in this world full of idiots and if I remember right, which I know I do-” You chuckled at his arrogance.”-I told you to call me Five.”

“Fine, Five.” You put emphasis on his name, to which he smiled and nodded in contentment. “You also said that humans target what they don’t understand, yet you never targeted me in any way.”

“Maybe it’s my years passed in the apocalypse that are talking, but I enjoy the company of people that…” He trailed off, his gaze getting lost somewhere over your shoulder. You could see the emotion washing over him, the grief of his loss still hurting his heart. “-are not totally human.”

He had told you about his time stuck in the apocalypse following 2019 and how he met a mannequin he named Delores. You knew this was his way of keeping himself sane and you were grateful that his experience allowed him to be more open to other forms of life and thus become the closest friend you ever had.

You hummed in agreement and let a pleasant silence fall between you. Your eyes wandered around the room, discovering new faces among those you already knew. You met Dot’s gaze and couldn’t stop yourself, her bright smile was contagious so you smiled in return.

Five got up and you followed suit. He decided to take you outside, knowing that there was a high probability that you hadn’t taken the time to go enjoy some time outside this oppressing building. Just as he was about to open the door, you stopped dead in your tracks.

“Are you okay?” His straight face was betrayed by his concerned tone. At your hesitation, Five pulled you aside. “What’s wrong?”

“I can’t go outside if I am not assigned to a mission.” You told him the sad truth. You were a prisoner of this building and its powerful board of directors.

“What?” He pained to control his anger, his hands opening and closing at his sides in an attempt to keep it down. “They ordered you to stay inside?” You nodded. Conflict was written all over his face. From what your programming told you, there was a big chance that he was contemplating ordering you to follow him outside, but then he would break his promise of never ordering you around, so you went to his rescue.

“Even if you were to order me to go outside, I can’t. The authority of my orders are far beyond yours.” His knuckles were now turning white and you asked yourself if you did right to tell him that there was a hierarchy of orders inside your head dictating what you could and couldn’t do.

“Then fight it.” His blunt statement took you by surprise. The blue LED on your temple turned yellow and Five continued. “Fight the orders. I know you can do it.”

You shook your head, at a loss of words. You never went against an order before. You were made to obey. Follow orders. It was simple.

But could you do it? Five believed in you. He believed in your capacity to overcome authority. But then, what? What would you do? Why would you do it? You would lose the only meaning of your life. Obey orders. Your LED now flashed bright red, only showing sign of your internal turmoil.

//Software instability ↓

“I am a machine made to follow-” Five’s fist collided with the nearest wall at your words. He knew it was your programming talking but he couldn’t help but be frustrated.

“No. You are so much more than that, you just let yourself being blinded by your stupid programs.” He knew he was too harsh on you. He wasn’t even sure you had control over your own actions, he simply had a feeling that if you wanted, if you fought hard enough, you could be free. He only didn’t understand why you were not fighting.

Before you had the time to find the right words, Five took off, storming into the hallway leading to his personal quarters, leaving you behind with his words echoing through your processors. Fight the orders.

You didn’t see Five for 9 days after that day. You supposed he was out for a mission or simply got tired of being around you. You knew that the latter had a very low probability, but it was there nonetheless and it made you uncomfortable inside.

Today was a holiday at the Commission. No one was working, so you had to pass the time, somehow. You wandered the hallways for a while before you got an idea. You read a book a while back, stating that people liked to be reminded that they were appreciated, so you decided to write little notes to every one of your management colleagues. Outside of Five, they were the only ones who didn’t lose their smile at your sight and you wanted them to know that they were important to you.

So you passed the next hour writing little messages and placing them on their respective desk. You were just finishing writing Herb’s when footsteps entering the room made you look up.

“Still here? Today’s off.” Five stated, a frown on his face when he saw you fold a piece of paper in two and carefully place it in the middle of the empty workspace.

“I know. I just wanted to write some nice words to my colleagues. Management has been under a lot of pressure lately and the board has been mean to a lot of them.” You smiled at your paper before joining Five and handed him a light blue paper with his name written in the CyberLife Sans Font. “And I have one for you.”

You missed the blush forming on his cheeks, too concerned about the increasing speed of his heartbeat to care about some color. “Are you alright?” You didn’t wait for an answer. You reached forward, lightly touching his forehead to get his exact temperature. Under your touch the temperature didn’t stop rising, concerning you even more. “Five, you are sick.”

The man chuckled slightly although his throat was very much constricted at the moment. He took your wrist in a light grip, breaking the contact of your soft skin on his. He took a moment to swallow his emotions and regain control of his body and faced your patient form.

“I’m perfectly fine.” You opened your mouth to disagree as he lifted his hands to stop you from interrupting his train of thoughts. “This is a natural reaction.”

You frowned, waiting for him to elaborate. Back in 2038, you would have been able to make a quick research on the internet and find what exactly Five was alluding to, but in this different timeline, in 1955, you had no such access. The explanation you were waiting for never came, instead, Five took the blue paper from your hands, placed it in his pocket and made sure that it wouldn’t fall out. He then grabbed your hand and pulled you out of the room. You smiled at your joined hands, the feeling of his fingers laced between yours was an enjoyable one.

Five took you up a flight of stairs and stopped before a door.

“I thought about what you said and I’m sorry I tried to push you to go against your orders. I know it must be scary.” His hand squeezed yours a bit tighter in hope that you would forgive him for his words and actions. He ran away after all, in a moment where you needed a friend to help you out.

“I forgive you.” You smiled brightly at him, no resentment present on your face at all. The sudden tightness of his hand around yours was mistaken for relief, when really, all the man was trying to do was refrain himself from leaning forward and do something he might regret.

His resolve was melting like ice under your bright smile, leading him to open the door in a hurry. He stepped aside and your eyes fell on a darkening blue sky, green lands, a world that you missed so much.

“Technically, the roof is still part of the building, which means that you are allowed to follow me.” He smirked, proud of himself for finding a loophole that would allow him to pass time with you without any eyes preying on your every movement.

You stepped outside in a rush, pulling Five along with you. The fresh evening air felt heavenly on your skin, the smells invading your receptors were almost too much compared to the smell of a closed building that never opened their windows and the notes of the last birds singing before they went to their nest to rest for the night was one of the most melodious sounds you've heard in a while.

"I take it that you like the view."

"I do." Tears formed into your eyes before falling down your flawless cheeks. "Thank you."

Five froze on the spot. He was used to the tears of his victims but he usually paid them no mind, ense the tenseness in his body when he realized that he didn't know what to do. Never would he have thought that you were able to actually cry. If it wasn't of the LED flashing a serene blue on the side of your face, Five would have definitely thought that you were human. The heat beneath his fingers was so real, along with the feeling of your skin on his. Your breathing was emulated perfectly, its speed changing in different situations like any human. The more he thought about it, the more Five found himself in awe in front of your complexity and his hope of you becoming the master of yourself was growing along with it.

"You're welcome."

You found yourself being pulled gently towards a bench facing the slowly setting sun. Comfortably seated on the bench, you took the time to admire the beautiful scenery until soft strokes on the back of your hand made you redirect your gaze to your hand resting on Five's lap.

"Can I ask you a question?" Your small voice broke the silence, almost scared to break the moment. To your relief Five paid no mind, he hummed in approval. "You told me that you ran away from your family before ending up in the apocalypse, and I was wondering if you ever wanted to go back to them." You had noticed a slight waver in his voice at the time. He missed them dearly. Your programming wanted you to help him out of his misery, but something new, something hidden inside the depth of your coding was nagging at you that if you didn't, he would stay with you and you wouldn't be alone anymore.

"I do. But it's not that simple. I have a contract and if I was to break it, there would be consequences." You nodded, understanding what he meant. The nagging feeling was back again but this time it was corrupting your thoughts, berating yourself that you shouldn't think that he cared about you. You were an Android, a machi- "And there's you. If I go, I'll take you with me." His eyes met yours, full of hope and something else that you couldn't name. His grin put an end to your dark thoughts, instead causing a too familiar alert to pop into your line of vision.

//Software instability ↑↑↑

Five recognized some emotions flashing on your face and tried to get more out of you by talking about his family. He shared his fondest memories of his childhood, which earned him some laughs and excited squeals from you, but didn't stop there as he was sure that you were aware of your own emotions but didn't know what they were yet. It was well known that the strongest emotions were the negative ones, so Five turned his strategy around by telling you about the not-so-happy ones, the memories involving his father.

He knew he was manipulating you in a way and he felt bad for it. All he could do was wish that you would forgive him once you got a hold of your free will.

You parted ways with Five that night with a head full of new information and a software ready to explode. You walked past the door where your charging station was waiting for you and made your way to the only place where you knew you could find answers. A place no one dared to venture in the whole time you were under the Commission's wings.

The basement.

The door was rusted, its hinged crying in pain under your push but inevitably giving in to the inhuman strength hidden beneath your skin. You walked between the rows of dusty books, scanning their spine, sometimes having to brush your fingers over the thick layer of filth covering the letters so you could read the titles. You found two books into the 741 available that matched your needs, you took great care while carrying them to the closest entertaining room where you knew movies were waiting in old boxes.

You started reading, discovering more and more about human emotions and how they could be interpreted through their body language. You linked some of your recent experiences with various emotions and feelings. Jealousy, happiness, curiosity, apprehension… you felt them. They were real. You could emulate physical aspects like tears, but what happened inside was totally out of your control.

Then you found a page describing Five's odd behavior around you. Your eyes went to the top of the page and the pump replacing your heart started pumping erratically. Love. Five was in love? You shook your head in denial, closed the book and searched the boxes for romantic movies. After watching some and analyzing the actors body language as well as their verbal interactions, you would prove to yourself that you were crazy. Defective.

The total opposite happened and it left you to ponder on the whats. What happened? What changed? Sure, every clue pointed toward Five, but you'd had software instabilities before, whenever someone was truly unfair to you or one of your colleagues. Surely one single person couldn't change you so much, right?

The biggest questions suddenly dropped into your mind like a bomb. What does it mean for you? What were you supposed to do?

The overwhelming feeling of being overtaken by the recent events was too much at this moment. Tears rolled down your cheeks, sobs escaped your mouth, your legs couldn't support your weight anymore. Everything you thought you knew was a lie. You weren't an insentient machine. You had feelings. You weren't an object that anyone could order around. Not anymore. Because you had a will. You had needs. You were alive and you wanted things.

As soon as your legs allowed you to stay upright, you made your way up the stairs and closed the doors behind you. Surprisingly, the hallways were full of life.

June 29th, 1955

AM 07:12:53

Apparently you were too engrossed into your own self-discovery that time flew by without you noticing it.

You ran toward the nearest flight of stairs, the ones near the main entrance, doing your best to avoid hitting someone in the process. Under different circumstances, the abnormally high amount of disgusted glances you received would have stopped you in your tracks and very possibly caused you to hide somewhere for a while, but today was different. Today was the day that you assumed your place as an equal of the human race.

Just as you were about to climb the stairs, you spotted a familiar white-haired man, his signature scowl plastered on his face keeping people at bay. Once again, your pump accelerated its movement. Was it his fault or the excitement of telling him what you discovered? You couldn't tell.

You almost yelled his name just as he was to about to enter the briefcase room, the word bouncing on the walls, earning you more disapproving glances. His head snapped in your direction, making you worry for a second that he hurt his neck in the process. He frowned as you made your way to him, confusion written all over his features.

"Is something wrong?" He noticed something changed into how you held yourself although he failed to pinpoint it.

"I have something to tell you." You smiled, full of confidence. "It'll be quick, I promise." You knew he had a job to do, just like yourself.

He hummed as his free hand reached for yours and pulled you away from the crowd, closer to the open door leading to the reserve of time-traveling machines. When he judged that the place was ideal, he turned to you and waited for you to find your words. Which didn't take long.

"I noticed strange things happening inside me whenever I was around you-" Five's heartbeat accelerated. "-or in other situations-" He frowned. "-so last night I made some research on human emotions and I discovered that I have them too."

His smile was the brightest you've ever seen on him and yet, he didn't know the best part. You lifted your hand between your two bodies when he opened his mouth to congratulate you or something.

"It wasn't the only thing that I found out. I know why your heart rate accelerates, why your temperature rises suddenly and why your pupils dilate every time you look at me."

Add all this to his slightly quicker breathing, his bitten interior lip and the new tightness of his hand around yours, you almost started laughing. If it wasn't of your knowledge of how bad he would take it, you certainly would have done it.

"Your feelings are mutual." You chuckled at his surprise, his mouth hanging open for a second before the words finally came back to him in the form of a stutter.

Before he could get a better hold of himself, Christopher, the briefcase manager yelled for Five to come and get his damn briefcase. His first reflex was to gnash in anger, his moment pulverized by some idiot that he would gladly punch into oblivion. He was about to do just that when a soft hand fell upon his chest and a delicate kiss upon his cheek.

"Go work. We can talk more when you come back." Before he could place one word or just realized what had happened, you were gone, swallowed whole into the mass of bodies making their way to their day occupations.

Five came back the same day, excited on the inside, impatient on the outside. As soon as he arrived, he dropped the briefcase harshly on Christopher's desk and hurried out of the room to find you. He hoped that you were still at your desk, somehow, seeing as he had no clue of where your quarters were situated. He was disappointed to find the management room completely dark and empty.

Frustrated, the best option he had was to look around for you after he had a nice cup of coffee to keep him on track. So with the biggest cup he could find in hands, the assassin walked around, sometimes asking the few people still inside about your whereabouts without any luck.

After an hour the man gave up, thinking it would be easier to find you tomorrow. On the journey to his bed, Five heard yells coming from the floor beneath his. He normally wouldn't have stopped to eavesdrop if it wasn't of the particular choice of words.

"When a human gives you an order, you obey!" The words made him cringe. He seriously hoped for the man that you weren't involved in any way, his hands were already closing into tight fist at the prospect of an idiot bullying you.

"I know you can deactivate it." The loud voice yelled again. "Do it!"

Five walked towards the open flight of stairs, his coffee slipping from his hand at what he saw.

With a shaking hand, you reached for your red LED and with a slight pressure of your finger, your skin progressively disappeared, the emulating particles getting back under your white hard basic Android body.

The laughs resonating around you were overwhelming and totally degrading. The pain from the insults thrown your way was too much for your newly acquired conscience, the tears falling down your cheeks proved that you were still pretty fragile emotionally.

Something broke in the background, like a glass exploding on the floor, but your attention was elsewhere. A fist collided with the side of your face, throwing you to the ground in a yelp. Even though you didn't feel the pain of the hit, the gesture hurt nonetheless. You've never experienced this kind of anger directed at you before and it left you scarred to your core. Scared of what humans could do to you.

This time, a foot was coming your way, aiming at your abdomen. You prepared yourself for an impact that never came. Slowly, your eyes opened to find Five kneeling over your attacker, his fists colliding with the man's face in quick and brutal successions. The 3 remaining men tried to help their beaten partner, only to redirect Five's wrath upon themselves.

All you could do was watch as he protected you, spilling blood in the process. You could have kept track of everyone's heartbeat, made sure that everyone was still alive, even if barely, but you found that you didn't care. The only heartbeat that mattered was beating frenetically and you were okay with it.

Once he was satisfied of his handy job, Five made his way to you, his hand outstretched for you to take. You turned your face away in shame as soon as you reached for his hand and noticed that your skin was still off. You were about to reactivate it when Five got a hold of your wrist, slowly, with care.

"You don't have to hide from me." You believed him but it was so much more complicated.

"I don't want you to see me like this." Your voice was merely above a whisper, just enough for him to hear.

"Why?"

"Because I don't want you to finally realize that I'm not human."

Many people, despite knowing that you were an Android, somehow forgot that detail and believed you to be like them or would just find the truth to be too much to handle so they would live in denial of your true identity.

He chuckled at your words, his free hand cupping your cheek. "I realized it the very first day." He stood up and pulled you with him. "You are not human, not in the slightest. You have so much more humanity than humans themselves. You are so much better than us."

//Software instability ↑

You avoided his gaze, embarrassed. Your skin recovered your body as soon as you touched your LED, Five's chuckle catching your attention.

"What?"

His smirk was as infuriating as it was attractive. "My wild guess is that your blood is blue." You nodded, not seeing why it was funny and how he could know that. "You're blushing."

Your eyes widened in surprise, as far as you knew, this shouldn't be possible, not for your model anyway. Then again, it shouldn't be possible for you to fall in love with the dangerous assassin beside you.

"I want to stay with you."

Five froze for a second, thinking that he heard you wrong. "Y-you want?"

"Yes." He was quick to turn around and grab your hand, but you saw the tears forming in his eyes anyway.

The large front door appeared, along with a too well-known order.

//STAY INSIDE THE COMMISSION'S HEADQUARTER

A slight fear of the unknown crept its way into your determination, making you hesitate slightly. All you knew of this timeline was here, you had nowhere to go, nothing to do.

Blue eyes met yours, dissolving any fear you had and filling you with confidence. It didn't matter if you had nowhere to go or nothing to do as long as you had Five by your side. He would take care of you just as you would take care of him, the rest didn't matter.

So you fought against the order as hard as you could. You destroyed every line of code forbidding you to do as you wanted, pulverized any programming restricting your actions, cut every link you had to the American Android Act, freeing yourself of all the ropes preventing you from becoming your own master. The wall restraining you finally fell and you felt it, deep inside you. Freedom.

"I don't want to brag, but I told ya." You slapped Five's arms, completely failing to remove the smirk of his lips. "Shall we?"

You followed his steps, excitement almost making you break into a run just for the fun of it. "Where to?"

"Want to get them back and stop their precious apocalypse?" You loved the arrogance in his voice, a slight shiver ran up your spine as your hand tightened around his.

"Absolutely."

And so you jumped into the vortex with him. Panic flowed through your systems as you didn't recognize the young boy landing at your side. The feeling was quickly replaced by amusement at his outburst and admission of his equation error.

You didn't have time to meet his siblings that Five jumped the both of you to a bedroom. Five was searching the wardrobe when you spotted a small mirror on the desk near the bed. Your blue LED was shining, as bright as a star on a clear night. For some reason, you felt sad.

The LED would continue to attract people's attention on you, creating the same circle of hatred that followed you everywhere at the Commission. You had had enough of that.

Your help appeared under the form of a pair of scissors, discarded on the desk with pencils and rulers. You grabbed them in a stronghold, carefully placed one blade slightly under the ring and lifted at the same moment Five yelped your name in alarm. The light blue died before the ring hit the floor, its metallic surface bouncing twice before stopping.

"Are you okay?" His hands grabbed both your wrist in a panic, his eyes searching your face for any trace of self-harm.

"Now I am."

Five saw it then. Your bare temple. The only thing keeping you from being invisible in a crowd and reaching happiness. You removed your jacket, leaving you in your black dress, looking like the most beautiful woman the boy had ever met. He tried to ignore the open back of your dress that was so generously reflected in the mirror behind you, instead focussing on how fulfilled you looked.

Five wanted to keep this conversation for later, but he couldn't anymore. As much as he hated to think about it, your bright smile had too much effect on his heart for him to possibly ignore it.

"You said my feelings were mutual, are you sure about it?"

You nodded, a hand reaching for his cheek, thumb stroking the flesh just like he did minutes ago in the Commission's hall.

"I am 100% sure. I feel the same love for you that you feel for me."

Five's body overheated at the mention of his feelings out loud. Sure, he knew what it was, but thinking it and saying it was two different things.

"Five is in love?!" Diego's exclamation on the other side of the door was soon followed by a yelp and people arguing not so subtly.

The boy saw red, this conversation was private and of course, his siblings had to stick their dirty noses into his stuff.

"We want to meet her!" Klaus' voice boomed over the others, their voices dying momentarily.

Five jumped to the hallway, death glare on, knuckles cracking, nostrils flaring.

"I killed 4 guys today because they acted like morons like you are all doing right now. So let me ask this once. Do you still want to pester us or will you wait in the kitchen?"

Mouths were opened in shock and eyes wide in fear. Five accepted their silence as an answer and returned into his room where you were grinning.

"I like them." He rolled his eyes at your excitement.

"There's really not much to like."

"Oh, hush. I know you love them."

That he knew, you were a quick learner after all.

"And I love you." Soft lips met his cheeks for a second before disappearing and just like earlier, Five's brain stopped working.

"Oh. My. God! She kissed him!"

A chorus of what made the boy lose it. He jumped back to the hallway, kicked the remaining siblings, who without surprise were all males, right where it hurts.

"Mind your own fucking business!" He screamed at his brothers before closing the door with force.

He breathed deeply once, twice, thrice before turning to you, his signature smirk stretching his lips.

"I love you too."

#number five #number five x reader #number five imagine #five hargreeves #five hargreeves x reader #the umbrella academy #tua s1 #tua #the boy #detroit become human #android #AI

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calligraphist-artemisia · 4 years ago

Text

Field of Flowers

Written for the Kidge Spring Event!

Prompt 7: Daffodil | Unequaled Love, New Beginnings

Summary: It was just another normal day for Youtuber Katie "Pidge" Holt. She and her boyfriend were going to spend a few hours recording some stuff in Minecraft for their channels and then probably wrangle their friends into a few rounds of Among Us. Except Keith has a question designed to derail all of those plans.

Also posted on AO3 under the username Kishirokitsune

❀ - ❀ - ❀ - ❀ - ❀

Pidge settled in at her desk and took a look around to make sure there was nothing odd in the background of her webcam. There was only her cat, Tesla, who was relaxing in his carpeted tree, which was sure to thrill her viewers. On the desk in front of her were two monitors, one which displayed all of her recording details, as well as the service she and her boyfriend were using to communicate while they played. The bigger monitor was showing the main screen of Minecraft.

She put on her headphones and adjusted her mic. “Keith, can you hear me?”

“Yeah, I hear you. Everything all set up?” he asked.

Pidge glanced up at her webcam as she nodded. “Yup! I'm just going to put you on mute to run through my intro and then we can get started. You can hop in if you want and I'll join once I'm ready.”

“Sounds good. I'll see you in a few.”

She quickly muted the audio for his channel and gave it a few seconds to make sure she couldn't hear him as he loaded up their game. Then she sat up straight and began recording. “Hey, everyone! I'm TechOwl and today we'll be jumping back into Minecraft with the always handsome KHawkins. As always, there will be a link to his channel in the description and I encourage you to check out his stuff as well.”

Pidge hit join and easily found their usual world, typing in the password so she could join. She waited to unmute until the world had loaded in and caught Keith in mid-sentence when she did.

“...tower and arming it with bows and arrows, so I'll need to expand the chicken farm. Pidge will probably – hi, Pidge – probably help with harvesting flint,” Keith said.

“I'll see what I can gather up while I'm mining,” Pidge said as she opened her inventory to try and remember where she left off. She had a whole row of iron pickaxes and plenty of wood and coal, so she had probably come up to drop off everything in the vault beneath their house and to grab some food. “Actually, let me see what's in the Vault first.”

“You're back at the house?”

“Yeah, I think I was getting food. My bar's pretty low,” Pidge responded. She directed her character through the trapdoor in the corner and rode the ladder down 25 blocks to a room she'd carved out during their first few videos together. Double chests lined the walls and also had signs to go along with them. She went to the section for stones and took a peek into the box labeled 'gravel'. “We only have a stack of it. I'll go find more once I get some food. There's probably a vein of it somewhere in my tunnels that I haven't bothered collecting yet.”

“It'll be a while before I need it, so there's no real rush,” Keith told her. “I still have to build the watchtower and I won't get to that until I'm finished with the gardens.”

Pidge frowned as she went back up the ladder to get into the food chest in their house. “I thought we had way more gravel than that. Have you used any?”

“I used a few stacks of that and the sand to make some concrete a while back,” Keith said.

Pidge guessed that meant they were nearly out of sand as well. It was a bit of a venture to get to the desert biome where she'd harvested most of it, but that could wait for a while. “Anything else I can mine for you, oh-masterful-builder-of-the-world-above?”

“No, I think that's about it,” Keith responded, his tone light. “I thank you for your service, oh-lady-of-the-deep-earth.”

Pidge snorted with amusement as she grabbed a stack of food and ate until her hunger bar was full. She kept a few cooked pork chops in her inventory and put the rest back before turning to go back down into the complex labyrinth of her mine. She got halfway down the ladder before she swore and turned to go back up and fetch more wood, filling up the empty slots in her inventory so she could drop off the extras into the Vault. She kept one full stack of 64 wood blocks on her and then ventured through the double doors leading into the mine.

Pidge spent the next hour combing over her tunnels and collecting any gravel she came across using the iron shovels she specifically built for that purpose. She also collected a decent number of chunks of flint and took all of it back up to the surface with her once she was through.

All the while, she and Keith carried on a conversation for the sake of entertaining their audiences – their banter was often something that was most talked about between their fanbases, with numerous jokes gaining meme-like status. Their friends were fond of quoting those memes back at them whenever they played games together.

“Hey, where do you want all of this gravel and flint?” Pidge asked once she was back in the house. Once again, she had to pause to grab a snack from their food chest as she started taking hunger damage.

“Gravel can stay down there. I have a double chest at the bottom of the watchtower. The flint... yeah, go ahead and bring the flint up to me. I'm at the top. You should look over the edge and check out the garden from up here too. I'll stand on the side you should look over,” Keith said, sounding as though he was leaning away from his microphone. “Hang on, I've gotta run and get something. Go ahead and come up.”

“On my way,” Pidge responded.

She left the house and then looked up, spotting the watchtower immediately. It was a massive wooden structure that stretched high into the sky, though it didn't look like it was all the way up to the build height. She stopped at the base to drop off the stacks of gravel and then hopped on the ladder and rode it all the way to the top. It was there that she found Keith's character standing motionless to one side.

“I'll just drop these off here first,” Pidge said, cracking open the single chest that was next to the ladder. She dropped off the 24 flints and then backed out of the inventory so she could enjoy the sky-high view of the gardens that Keith had spent several sessions working on.

She hopped up on the side where he was standing and looked down. She could see the food garden off to one side, stretching down along the plot of land they took the time to flatten out. To the left of them was a field of flowers and as she looked at them, she realized they spelled something out.

“Wait...” she breathed as her mind caught up with what she was seeing.

Spelled out with red flowers was the question: “Will you marry me?”

Pidge tugged off her headphones and turned in her chair, ready to run downstairs and confront her boyfriend, but he was already there in her office, waiting for her with that soft smile on his face. “Keith?”

He walked into the room and knelt down in front of her, taking her hand with his own. “I've been in love with you from the first day we met. I didn't know it at the time. It took a few people pointing it out to me. Or, well, a lot of people,” he chuckled, “but eventually I figured it out. I never thought I would have the opportunity to find such happiness in my life and it's thanks to you that I have. I can't imagine spending the rest of my life without you in it.”

Pidge hiccuped as she tried to breathe in, reaching up to cover her mouth even as tears of happiness began to spill from her eyes. “Keith...”

Keith cracked open a tiny black box and held it out for Pidge to see the slender silver ring inside. It was inset with three green jewels – not the traditional diamond, but she'd never been fond of those anyway. “Katie Holt, will you marry me?”

She nodded, swallowing thickly so she could try and get the words out. “Yes! Yes, I will.” She slid out of her chair with a breathless laugh and into his arms, unable to wait until he could slip the ring onto her finger. She pressed a kiss to his cheek and then another and another until Keith was shaking from laughter and had to ask if she even wanted the ring.

Pidge pulled away from him, a great big smile on her face as she held out her hand in response, allowing him to put the ring on her finger. And then she dove right back in, kissing him with all that she had to make up for her lack of words.

❀ - ❀ - ❀ - ❀ - ❀

Bonus Scene

“Coran! Coran, you have to come see this!” Allura shouted in excitement.

She could hear him running down the hall from his office, where he was working on editing their newest video together, and was soon striding over to her side while asking if everything was alright. Allura responded with a smile and by hitting play on what she had been watching.

“...-ver the edge and check out the garden from up here too. I'll stand on the side you should look over,” Keith's voice came through the speakers.

Allura eagerly watched Coran and knew the exact moment when Keith's proposal was revealed by the way Coran suddenly squealed in delight. She glanced back at the screen in time to watch it fade away from the flowers and then fade back in with a photo of Pidge and Keith, who were smiling at the camera. Pidge held up her left hand so a beautiful ring could be seen. It was also accompanied by the words: “She said yes!”

“How exciting!” Coran said, grinning broadly. “We must do something to celebrate! Dinner, perhaps? I'll call Hunk and begin preparations!”

Before Allura could agree or disagree with his idea, Coran was gone. She laughed softly and took out her phone to send out a warning to the rest of the group so they wouldn't be too blindsided.

It was certainly an event worth celebrating.

#voltron #kidge #kidgemas #kidge spring event 2021 #fanfiction #youtuber au

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poopunderstander · 3 years ago

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i am probably the 5000th person to write Dean teaching Cas to drive but i did it anyway and i'm here to make it your problem

"Cas, who is living after death in the body of a man so devout he offered his whole self to the possession of God’s soldier, knows that the machine he’s sitting in is a part of the strange, ardent little faith Dean practices, a religion with three apostles, a virgin, and no god. Sitting here with Dean’s hand on his own, sweating and shaking at the helm of this unholy ark, he feels blasphemous."

2.4k words, destiel, PG/teen&up, no warnings except for a lot of geology talk at the start

link on ao3

Approximately 550 million years before what Castiel currently knows as the present day, two enormous sheets of earth collided in a dying ocean. The continent of Laurentia met with an arc of volcanic islands, and, finding itself unequal to their fury, folded downward beneath the sapping crust of the Iapetus Ocean. Over millennia, as Heaven watched, the earth and water consumed each other, leaving a thick scar of mountains, to be worn away in turn by new millennia of wind and ice and fire.

That was the Age of Fishes. Later, much later, humans climbed into the valleys in between the hills, to fish and hunt and build, and when they buried their dead they painted the graves with red earth, infinitesimal new scars over the old tectonic suture.

Castiel remembers all this—can feel it in the ground under his vessel’s feet, here in what Dean Winchester calls central Maine. They’re standing on glacial till deposited in the last ice age, and below them are the grains of sand from the Iapetus Ocean that became mudstone and siltstone, then pelite and shale and Silurodevonian granite. Twenty-five miles beneath Castiel lies a layer of Precambrian gneiss, a sheet of ancient dust pressed into solid stone nearly four billion years ago, when the ocean was wide and God himself wasn’t that old. That stone, Castiel knows, is Earth’s oldest shield: the last solid barrier between humanity and the planet’s molten core. He thinks about this as he watches Dean load guns into the trunk of his car, his boots planted in soft red earth carried here 10,000 years ago by a river of ice.

“Ready?” Dean says, turning back to face Cas.

Castiel thinks about the God who watched the continents form, who watched the planet eat itself a thousand times and heal a thousand more, the God who Castiel knows once wasn’t dead. He looks at Dean, who knows none of this and came with him anyway to trap an archangel on earth, and thinks: How could I be?

“Yes,” he says.

“Wait,” Dean says. “Let me get this right. You can fly, right—you can teleport—but you can’t drive a car?”

They’re sitting in the empty parking lot of an ice cream shop, across the road from St. Peter’s Hospital. Dean drove them here after they left the house of prostitution, to wait for the sun to rise and the meeting with Raphael to “go down.” Castiel, still caught up in the pangs of regret and panic he brought away from the bar, has spent his last hours on earth contemplating the profound and mundane limits of his earthly knowledge.

“I thought she would appreciate the information,” he told Dean, trying to create in words a world in which he didn’t ruin Dean’s terrifying act of kindness, and Dean laughed and said, “Oh, dude, big mistake.”

“I don’t think I understand women,” Castiel said then, and Dean threw back his head and laughed, and Castiel felt a portion of the darkness inside him evaporate.

Dean started quizzing him after that, asking about things he’s done, talking about something he calls a “bucket list.” Castiel doesn’t know what the bucket is for, but Dean’s apparently contains people and places and food: a musician named Springsteen in Concert, the Chevrolet Hall of Fame in Decatur, the 1,800 pound burger at Mallie’s Sports. He asks Castiel if he’s ever been to the Grand Canyon, and Castiel tells him he witnessed its creation. Dean says okay, but did you ever hike it, and Castiel has to shake his head.

It’s in this way that Dean learns that Castiel has never driven a car—a fact which Cas thinks shouldn’t surprise him, but it does. They’re sitting on the hood of the car together, gazing out across Highwood Avenue at the glowing windows of the hospital, and Dean twists his whole body around to face Cas, telegraphing his shock.

“Why would I,” Cas points out. “I’ve never had the need.”

“Yeah,” Dean says, “but—dude, what if somebody, like, zaps your wings? What’re you gonna do, huh, take a bus?”

Cas shrugs. “Probably. I think it’s far more likely that Raphael will kill me outright.”

He sees a flicker of pain cross Dean’s face; this conversation made him uncomfortable before. Castiel wonders about that. “I’m not talking about that,” he says. “I just meant—hypothetically. In a hypothetical world where you get your angel mojo un-mojoed, or whatever, you’d just—buy a bus ticket?”

Castiel isn’t sure what he’s admitting to, here. He thought bus travel was common. “I suppose.”

“Jesus,” Dean says, turning back to face the hospital. “That’s just wrong.”

They’re silent for a moment, spinning in their own private worlds. The lights are off inside the ice cream shop—it’s nearly dawn, and nobody buys ice cream at dawn—but the lamps above the Dairy Queen sign are blazing, and Castiel is watching the yellow light flow over Dean’s head and shoulders as he leans back on the hood of his car, still warm from the engine’s labor. Even now, looking at Dean’s body is like looking at a miracle. Castiel wonders if he’s aware that he’s the only thing in Waterville, Maine born entirely of God’s will.

“Listen,” Dean says suddenly, breaking the silence. “I don’t know what it’s gonna be like in there. I know you said—well, I know what you said. But I think,” he says, puffing up with that bizarre confidence he always seems to pull from nowhere, “I think we’re gonna make it. And if I’m right, if we do—” He turns to look at Cas again, a grin dawning across his face. “If we do, I’m gonna teach an angel of the lord to drive stick.”

Castiel has no idea why—he’s not quite sure what those words in that order mean—but this thought seems to give Dean hope. Castiel doesn’t feel it. He doesn’t have a human soul, that thing that seems to trap hope so unfailingly it feels like a flaw in the design.

The sun is feet from the eastern horizon.

“Okay,” he tells Dean.

Twenty-five miles north of Waterville is a town called Canaan. When colonists first settled on the banks of the Kennebec, they used the native word for the place they built: Wesserunsett. Not long after, though, deciding that that long name was not worth the labor of speaking or writing it, they looked at the bright green fields laid all around their stolen home, imagined a similarly verdant place of rest waiting for them at life’s end, and named the new town after the Promised Land.

Canaan, of course, looks nothing like Heaven, really. Heaven is vast and multidimensional; Canaan is a ten-room motel, two grocery stores, and two churches along the length of US Highway 2. But outside Canaan, between the highway and the lake, is a wide field of grass and purple violets, which Dean pronounces “perfect.” He pulls off the road into the field, and Castiel feels the solid, assuring weight of asphalt give way to the uncertainty of earth.

“Okay,” Dean says. He gets out of the car, and motions for Castiel to do the same. Cas does, turning cautiously to scan the field around them.

“There’s no road here,” he points out. He’s never tried it before, but he always assumed that a road was essential to driving.

“That’s the point,” Dean says. “You can’t start on the road, you’re gonna get yourself killed. Gotta start where there’s nothing to run into.” He gestures at the expanse around them. “Like so. That’s how my dad taught me.”

Dean doesn’t talk about his father. Castiel has noticed. He’s never seen John Winchester; tries to imagine Dean as a child, standing in a field like this with the man who withstood one hundred years of Hell. He can’t picture it. But then, imagination has never come easily to him.

“Come on,” Dean says, waving a hand for Cas to come around the car. Castiel obeys, walking around to the open driver’s seat as Dean circles to where Cas just was. They both sit down inside, pulling the doors shut, and Dean says, “Okay. So. Let’s start at the beginning.”

He talks Cas through the controls of the car, laying his hand on the dashboard as he talks, identifying the levers and pedals and dials with gentle, nearly reverent touches, watching Castiel’s face to make sure that he’s taking it all in. Castiel tries to concentrate, thinks he understands what he’s being told, but he has no place to anchor this information. That’s the clutch, Dean says, and Castiel nods and thinks, clutch, and thinks about gripping Dean tight. The clutch.

“You got it?” Dean asks. Castiel doesn’t feel he has anything.

“Of course.”

Dean beams. Cas can’t find it in himself to regret the lie.

“Go ahead and put your hands on the wheel,” Dean says. This turns out to be more complicated than Castiel anticipated. He does it wrong, apparently, the first time, because Dean frowns and says, “No, you gotta—ten o’clock and two o’clock, Cas,” and when Cas asks what that means Dean says to picture a clock, and Castiel doesn’t see what relevance that has to driving a car. In the end, Dean takes Castiel’s hands in both of his, and puts them onto the steering wheel in the right position. He sits back in satisfaction, nodding.

“Okay. Okay.” Castiel’s heart is pounding like a hummingbird’s. It’s not the same fear he felt last night. He doesn’t know what it is. Dean tells him where to put his feet, says okay, clutch first, keep it in neutral, and Cas pushes down with what was once Jimmy Novak’s left foot and then his right, feels the engine rumble to life, and lets go when Dean says okay, now.

He breaks the car. Or, that’s what it feels like at first: a heavy, surely cataclysmic crash of machinery that throws both of them back against the seat. He sees Dean grimace and gets ready to apologize, but Dean just says, “Okay, kind of rough start, but that’s fine—try it again.”

“I’m not sure I should,” Cas says. It sounded like the engine cracked. He thinks Dean may have underestimated his ignorance here. But Dean says no, try again, so Cas puts his feet back on the pedals and focuses every particle of his celestial consciousness on easing the pressure on and off in perfect unison the way Dean tells him, hands rigid at ten and two on the clock-wheel, and the four thousand pounds of steel beneath them roll approximately ten inches over the grass before Castiel’s focus falters, and the engine grinds to another explosive, neck-wrenching halt.

“You suck at this,” Dean says. His patience as an instructor, apparently, has been exhausted.

“Of course I suck at this,” Cas says, hearing the panic in his own voice. “I’m an angel.”

He expects the lesson to be over then—clearly, he isn’t going to learn this—but Dean just chuckles instead, caught up in another burst of unearned optimism, and says, “Try it again, little slower this time.”

For half an hour, Cas jolts the car in short, violent circles around the field, struggling to follow Dean’s directions and feeling sweat build up on his palms and the back of his shirt. The longest he’s able to drive in one smooth line lasts about one minute and forty-five seconds, long enough for Dean to lose his look of consternation and break out in a grin, raising his hands in celebration just as Cas accidentally pushes down on the wrong pedal and sends them screeching to a halt.

“Hey,” Dean says, once he’s recovered from the physical shock, “at least you’re getting better.”

“I’m not,” Cas tells him. He can feel an odd, nauseous constriction at the back of his throat; he wonders if it’s possible for a being that doesn’t eat or digest to vomit. “I’m not good at this, Dean. I won’t be good at this.”

“Listen,” Dean says, “if Sam could learn, so can you.”

“Sam’s very intelligent.”

“And you’re not?”

“Sam’s human.”

“Since when does that matter?” Dean asks.

Cas stares at him. Of course it matters. It’s always mattered. “I don’t know how,” he says. His hands are shaking.

“Hey,” Dean says, “hey.” He reaches over and lays his hand over Castiel’s, still on the steering wheel. His skin is warm and callused. Castiel feels the blood vessels in his cheeks and neck dilating.

“I’m sorry,” he tells Dean. He knows, without quite understanding, that what they’re doing is important to Dean, somehow, and he’s fucked it up. He did the same last night, with the woman whose name wasn’t Chastity, whose father loved her in the same unknowable way that Dean’s father loved him. He didn’t want to do it again. Cas, who is living after death in the body of a man so devout he offered his whole self to the possession of God’s soldier, knows that the machine he’s sitting in is a part of the strange, ardent little faith Dean practices, a religion with three apostles, a virgin, and no god. Sitting here with Dean’s hand on his own, sweating and shaking at the helm of this unholy ark, he feels blasphemous.

“I’m sorry,” he says again.

“You can do this, Cas,” Dean says. “Look, I get you’re, like, superpowered, or whatever, I know you don’t need to. But did you ever think—maybe it’s just been a really long time since you learned something new?” He pauses, frowning, searching for the right words. “I don’t care if you can’t drive, man,” he says finally. “But I know you can learn. Right? I believe in you, Cas.”

Twelve hours ago, Dean stood side by side with Cas in the light of Raphael’s wings and heard him say that God died centuries ago. Dean heard it, and told Cas to go looking anyway.

Cas looks at him, at the freckles scattered over his nose, the serious little pinch between his brows, the soft ghost of a smile on his face even though Cas has surely damaged his car by now, even though God is dead and his neck must hurt and Sam’s taking a vacation from being Dean’s brother, the other half of his world. Dean looks back at him, raises his eyebrows, and grins.

“One more time?”

#destiel #deancas #destiel fic #deancas fic #castiel

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jilytho · 4 years ago

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and they were roomates

Jily/Marauders roomate thing just for fun. Happy Jilytober!!!!

Read below or on AO3 of FFNT

Moving in together had always been the plan. The Marauders, out in the real world. Throughout Uni they were always forced to split up into different apartments in groups of two, usually ending with Sirius and James in one apartment and Remus and Peter sharing one down the hall. Remus insisted it be that way because he insisted he wouldn’t be able to focus on schoolwork if he had to deal with his idiot of a boyfriend 24hours a day but separate apartments in no way made them spend any less time together. James swears he spent more nights on the floor of Remus and Peter’s kitchen than in his bed. Still, once they were done with school and off in the Real World having an apartment for all of them to live in was the ultimate goal.

They set out to look for a spot that was nice enough to fit the bizarrely high standards of Sirius, while still not breaking the bank for Remus or Peter who insisted on paying their own way without any help.

It was Remus who ended up finding their place, somewhat dodgy area of town but right down the street from his favorite Thai takeout place, three coffeeshops with adequate reading vibes within a four block radius, and a seven minute commute for Remus to get to the lab everyday. 14C was a once cute three bedroom apartment now covered in years of dust and grime and now officially theirs.

Sirius and Remus claimed the master with its very own ensuite so James could stop having to pick Sirius’s hair out of the shower. It wasn’t a perfect set up but they all found ways to mesh together and make it just right and just theirs. Peter was immediately made interior designer and found a couch and two armchairs off of craigslist so that they could stop sitting on the floor in front of the TV. James was in charge of the kitchen and bought real utensils and bowls so Sirius would stop pouring his cereal onto frisbees. Remus developed his very own homemade cleaner filled with bleach and alcohol and was likely poison in a bottle but it somehow made the beige counters white and sparkling.

Technically James and Sirius were the only names actually on the lease, a Sirius suggestion, so that if they were ever late on rent it wouldn’t impact the credit Remus had spent so long building up. It had the added benefit of Peter and Remus not having to worry if their paycheck was being delayed and they had to pay Sirius or James a few days late because the boys were always good for it.

Being adults in the real world never stopped any of them from still behaving like children. Sirius refused to take out the trash so James took to dumping the trash on his head while he was sleeping, and accidentally got day old noodles onto Remus’ pillow. They broke two TVs during two separate games of indoor football and Peter was a world class baker but was the worst at cleaning in the whole flat and left flour everywhere, constantly. But still, they were happy. They ate dinner together almost every night and had movie nights on Thursdays. Peter and James invested in heavy duty ear plugs within three weeks of moving in and realizing just how thin the walls were.

After a full year of making Apartment 14C home, the lease was up they unanimously decided to resign because this was their place. But then one day they wake up to find that Pete has his bags packed and is all “I got a job across the country bye”. They want to fight him and Remus, always the logical one, brings up that they literally just signed for a whole year and are only 20 days into this new lease. And Peter, the little slimy rat, smirked and said “Not my name on the lease, not my problem” and just left.

They learn from Facebook that he was working for some politician that stands for everything the boys do not. The kind of politician who would actively root against the happiness and togetherness of Sirius and Remus. Once they learn that, they are officially done missing him.

At some time in the middle of the night all the pictures that Peter was in from school are mysteriously replaced with pictures of James’s cat.

Sirius wants to keep He-Who-We-Do-Not-Talk-About’s bedroom empty and make it into a yoga studio/library combo but Remus says that it's ridiculous to pay that much extra in rent and he refuses to let Sirius pay for the room and so the roommate hunt begins.

Everyone they met with was either too sweaty or too loud or was great on paper but had a super distinct death like scent so the room sat empty for almost a full month. James was content to let it stay that way and just keep finding reasons because it was good with just the three of them. They weren’t the same and James was sometimes a third wheel but these were his brothers, he didn’t need anyone else.

It stays empty until one day, Remus comes home from work one day saying that he has a friend from class, a nice well mannered and smart girl who would pay her rent on time but is in urgent need of getting off of her sister and terrible brother in laws couch before she “sets it and the house on fire”. Sirius isn’t sure he wants someone willing to commit arson moving in across the hall from him but a quick look from Remus shut him up and he was suddenly all for the mystery girl coming in. Remus said she would be moving in in three hours and would James be available to help her carry in her bags? James felt slighted that he wasn’t even given a vote or a chance to meet the girl, but that was mostly because despite Peter leaving and betraying them, James is loyal to a fault and still saw the room as Pete’s room and Pete’s stool in the kitchen despite the fact that the lying bastard just took off with no warning and changed his phone number and was a traitorous little bastard. Still, he couldn’t argue the point too much or he’d look stupid so fine, let the new girl move in but “Remus I swear, make it clear that this is just temporary until she figures it out and we find someone else we can all agree on”. He decided he just wouldn’t hang out with the new girl. They’d be apartment mates but they wouldn’t be friends.

She shows up with seven boxes and three bottles of wine to her name. James’s mouth is full of pasta when she introduces herself to him and he is so startled by the green of her eyes that he swallows without chewing and starts hacking noodles up while waving hello as she watches, green eyes wide with concern and amusement, hand still held out to shake.

The first week after she moves in, he avoids her like the plague. He mentally insists that he has no need to get to know her because this is just temporary and she is going to find a new place and it doesn't matter how green her eyes are if he just doesn’t look at them.

By the start of the second week, it stopped mattering if he didn’t directly interact with her because she was still everywhere. The living room was transformed from a bare bones TV and couch room to completely cozy with scented candles and fuzzy blankets and fun, colorful throw pillows that James instantly became obsessed with. He couldn’t lie and say he didn’t love the lemon scented soap in the kitchen or how she always made sure there was coffee in the pot for him or how the scent of her rose body wash somehow fills the whole apartment everytime she showers and is amazing or how the whole apartment just felt warmer and better now that she was there.

He stopped getting surprised when she found ways to just fit with them. He always thought Peter worked well with them, they were brothers of course, but now he couldn’t help feeling like Peter had been a square peg squeezing into a circle hole. He fit but it was also just a little tight or tense or unequal. Lily, on the other hand, clicked in just right. She was instantly just one of them, even before James had accepted it. On her 10th day of living with them (a celebration Sirius insisted required an ice cream cake) all reservations about her completely imploded because there was no arguing that she belonged with them and they belonged with her. When he woke up in the middle of the night to get a glass of water, he wasn’t at all shocked to find her and Remus reviewing chemical formulas at 3am on a Tuesday. Like of course they were, why wouldn't they be. It felt even less surprising that he just walked himself over and sat on the ground in front of her and stole her flashcards so he could quiz them both. It felt only natural when he saw her and Sirius getting ready to go to spin class together, even though Sirius never brings James to spin class with him anymore because of the one time he fell off his bike and caused a ruckus. He’s barely even confused when he ends up at a sunrise yoga class with her even though he had never been awake to see sunrise a day in his life. He’s even less surprised to learn that he enjoyed it immensely and had never been so happy to be up that early. He tells himself that it's just the impact of the yoga that he is in such a good mood but knows it has a lot more to do with the laughing goddess in the downward dog next to him.

They get glared at all through the class because he keeps whispering things to her and making her giggle and then he becomes so transfixed by her laugh that he loses his balance and falls out of his pose, almost toppling the woman next to him. She laughs so hard her face matches her hair and giggles every time she looks at him for the rest of class.

And then it’s Sunday and Blokes Brunch easily becomes “Lily, let’s go time for brunch” and when she pops the champagne (which had always been James’s job but he couldn't’ even fight her properly for it) he sees the sparkle in her eyes so much clearer than the sparkle in the drink and he lets himself actually see her and oh my god did she look good.

It still hurts when they see a picture of Peter on facebook or in Snapchat memories but slowly their memories start to fill up with green eyes and red hair and lovely smiles. It is no surprise when just the suggestion of her moving out became criminal. It was no surprise to any of them except for James when she stopped sleeping in her room and started sleeping across the hall with James. None of it was how the Marauders expected their lives to be at all but there was also more joy and warmth and love than any of them could have ever predicted.

#happy jilytober #jilytober #jily #drabble #mywriting #James Potter #lily evans #maurauders era

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swordoforion · 3 years ago

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Orion Digest №42 - The Crossroads of Human History: Why We Should Persist

The events of the past few centuries have brought the threat of extinction closer than it has arguably ever been. War, pollution, disease - as much as the human race has come together with modern innovations, we have also opened the door to the end of human history, and our choices now will determine the future of billions, if not potential trillions. Will we die in a hate-fueled inferno, or stride atop the surfaces of distant planets? Will we drag all of life on Earth down with us, or will we learn to find harmony with it? While there have been many tumultuous times in the history of our species, the idea of it coming to an end makes this time especially vital.

And yet, there are many who argue that perhaps humanity does not deserve to live on, or that it simply cannot. There are some who object to our past and current actions, and believe that human nature prevents us from living peacefully and logically. They think that even if we did survive, we'd be at each other's throats, and it would only spell suffering for many at the hands of few. Others raise the moral flag in regards to our effects upon other species and nature, citing our haphazard destruction as grounds for us to die so that other species may live. Some believe that existence itself simply isn't worth the costs it requires upon the individual.

It is hard to deny that human history has been filled with suffering, and what is worse, unequal and unjust suffering. There have been many souls who, by their mere appearance, have been condemned to live life treated differently than others, spending their days in fear, and working their whole lives just to find some semblance of comfort. Progress has been made on some social fronts, but that fight is far from over, and with a great many problems of our own design on the rise, it is safe to say that the toughest times of humanity may not yet be behind us. The world is getting hotter, the disasters are becoming rougher, the class divide and associated required labor from the working class is increasing, and we still haven't yet cracked the goal of equality.

The situation, admittedly, can seem rather hopeless. And, with the storm on the horizon, we might have the first opportunity in history to stop the race entirely - before things get worse, we have the option to end the human race through whatever means are available, and be done with all of it. We, as the human race, stand at the crossroads of human history, and are granted two choices - accept our destruction, guaranteeing an end to suffering, or persist on, going into the unknown and chancing that our circumstances will worsen. It is a question that has been asked many, many times.

So, what reason do we have to persist, in the face of all that is horrid and terrifying in the world?

As painful as life can be, most people choose to keep living it. Buried beneath the poignant pains and toils, there are brighter things in the world. Large joys that give us purpose, small joys that brighten our day. There is even meaning in pain - by knowing what it feels like to lose or hurt, we appreciate much more how it feels to win or remain safe. The grand knowledge of all that there is and could be in the world - the sights around us, the stories we tell, the friends we love, the memories we cherish - when simply put to the background of our perception, they may not seem worth as much, but to weigh those below the void of non-existence, they are rather valuable.

What is more, we assume that we must go on without improvement, that this crisis we face is all that humans can be or amount to. What is past cannot be changed, but the knowledge of our past gives us the ability to learn from it, and we have proven time and time again that the human mind can conquer anything in its path given time and reason. If we have the ability to subjugate ourselves, to put ourselves in so grave of danger that it could spell not only the end of Earth's dominant species, but potentially most of life on Earth, surely we also have the ability to undo what we have wrought. It is merely a matter of how we order ourselves and where we shift our weight. Given the knowledge and push, the suffering we believe is inevitable could be lifted, Earth made a utopia.

It is a risk to rely on the hope that humanity will settle its issues, but the chance becomes more assured the more we believe in it, the more we support it. If we assume it to be impossible, something unachievable, then it will become so. All those who argue that human nature is to be violent, angry, and spiteful see only a sample of humans forced to resort to their animalistic natures for survival. When one is forced to fight tooth and nail for food and shelter - as one must do in the job market so they may earn money for necessities - they will of course put their survival as a priority. Raised in a world where the value of wealth and luxury is placed on so high a pedestal, it makes sense that people would rush to assure their security, even at the cost of others, for how many would risk their own downfall for a stranger when raised to do the opposite?

However, the unique quality of humans is that with our intelligence and empathy, we can overcome these instincts and fears, rising higher into levels of psychological need and actualization, where we see the strings that hold the puppets. We can come to understand that the system of economy, if managed adequately, could easily be made to support all who live under it, and that with understanding, we could prosper together. We may have within us animal instincts, but if we can understand them, we can control them. Human society already does, in its own way, harness the power of human behavior, manipulating each and every citizen to act in a way that perpetuates its qualities, positive and negative.

The toils and struggles of human existence, that drive many to wish that they had never been born, are human in origin. We are aware of this fact, and while a difficult task, we could one day hope to create a future in which new generations are born, still laboring and having their own individual struggles, but never unjustly, and never without the accompanying joy and hope. It is one thing to push a stone up a hill, and another entirely to do it in chains. It is hard to envision a better world when you have spent your entire life in one; for all you know, it is entirely imaginary, and impossible to achieve. You have spent all your time meeting maybe a handful of people (if any who don't ultimately buy into the flaws of the system in some way; how could there conceivably exist an entire society who behaves as such? From an insider's point of view, flawed is all humanity might ever be.

But that is just it - humanity is both gifted with the ability to see past our mundane perceptions and illusions, as well as to allow our minds to settle into them. It lets us have the foresight to know that the illusion can be shattered, and that we can overcome what we believe to be absolute, while also not being so overcome by such presence of mind that we view life in terms of numbers and psychology, savoring the joy and feeling true the fear. Our emotions and logic affect one another, with the realization of change accompanied by hope, and the frustrating monotony of the world bringing about hopelessness and fear. The same world can cause one mind to imagine life as a purposeless bout of pain, while bringing another to see the beauty and majesty that does exist, and can exist in even greater measure.

The difference in the two is circumstance - what side of the world are you raised in, and what do you see? We know, through logic, that our problems are based on economics, government, and the socialization bred via layered ignorance. A child can be raised in a healthy manner, given the chance to learn about the world around them and respectfully form their own identity, and have the belief that life is indeed worth living, with happiness worth the pursuit of it. However, that same child could have instead been thrown through different traumatic events, and trapped by the demands and expectations of the world around them while they still struggle to process it all. The second child will know the world as cruel, and may lack trust - for what would trust bring them but possibly greater pain? Pain they could not hope to bear?

Which side is right about the world, and not merely the constructed world of humans, but the metaphysical world that is existence itself, in all its infinite potential? If we made such relatively small adjustments as changing how we view mental health and allowing for more personalized models of labor, the entire universe for one person could change, the grand picture of existence reshaped by something as small as policy and structure. While able to understand the concept of things beyond our own point of view, the truth is that these bleak ideas of nihilism come from a perspective that only views the world through a small lens, that sees the horrors and mistakes we have made, but not the capacity to change, if we knew we were able. It is a self-perpetuating cycle - we created a hopeless world which convinces us it is hopeless, and so we continue to create a hopeless world which convinces future generations, and so on, but if we were to break the cycle and take advantage of our ability to change the world, no longer would people be convinced and raised to act so terribly.

At this crossroads of human history, the question is asked - if we brought ourselves to the brink, should we just fall in, rather than potentially making it worse? This question is asked by those who have only ever known the cruel world, watching others taught that it is acceptable to treat others with such disgusting indifference. However, to broaden the lens and see that it was ignorance that caused the first misstep, bringing us through a domino chain to where we are today, tells us that if we are capable of destroying the world, we are certainly capable of changing it. Which option we take is ultimately a matter of which we believe in. If we believe that humans can be good and overcome our animal natures, I have full faith that it will happen. If we believe that humans are incapable of doing so, then we may very well perish.

Between the two options, I have given much thought. For the sake of those that might come into this world just to suffer, I hesitate to say it is worth it for those who might come afterwards in an improved world - sacrificing lives not just to death but torture, all for the happiness of those who have not yet been born. However, this assumes suffering will become an eventuality, and if we were to actively seek humanity's demise, so would suffering result in the inter-rim. To give up hope entirely ensures things will not get better; to persist means that very well could. Instead of wasting time arguing about how bad things could get if we fail, it would do much better to get up and fight to ensure that we don't. Even if we are unsuccessful, is it not better to die in hope than in misery?

And so, I believe that when faced with the choice of dying here at the crossroads or continuing onward into the unknown depths of the future, the latter choice is entirely worthwhile, despite the sentiments of others. We cannot wipe off the stains of our history and ignorance, but we can ensure that the deaths of all those who perished under the sword of injustice do not go unavenged. New children could be born one day, the groundwork for a better and more informed start beneath their feet, and live the lives their ancestors dreamed of, carrying on that hope. And those that march on in the future will appreciate our decision to fight on another day more than we can ever know.

- DKTC FL

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transparentdreamlandperfection · 3 years ago

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How to Buy Shoes if Your Feet Are Different Sizes

A lot of people suffer from a difference in their feet dimensions. In other words, one foot is larger than the other. One foot is flat, while the other has a high arch. Generally, 60% of the world’s population have dissimilar feet dimension. Most people use special devices to measure their foot width & length. Thus, they should buy the best Nike walking shoes for different size feet.

For instance, you can have the right foot as eight and the other as 7.5, so go with a larger foot size shoe. Hence, it can be tricky to buy a matching pair of shoes in such scenarios.

No two feet can be 100% identical. Therefore, you’ll always find subtle differences in the symmetry & curvature of the right & left feet. Generally, people who develop deformities only in one foot like bunions, hammers & claw toes suffer from such changes. Consequently, we are here with an article to guide you about buying shoes for different size feet.

Where Can I Buy Two Different Size Shoes?

While shopping online, you must look out for brands & major retailers that can accommodate different foot sizes. Rather than getting the wrong shoe size & feeling uncomfortable in it, it’s better to take guidance. The information in this blog will help you in shopping without even stepping a foot outside.

· Look Out for Sites that Sell Split Sized Shoes:

Split-sized shoes are one or a half size different from each other. There are manufacturers that design footwear of unique sizing. They give their customers the freedom to order a pair of shoes with a difference in size. Some companies allow special order requests. So, google them & contact them to take guidance about the best Nike walking shoes for different feet sizes.

· Find Websites that Sell Odd Pair Shoes:

Search online platforms that manufacture shoes for unequal-sized feet. Make sure to review their exchange policies in case you are ordering shoes online. If the return policy is friendly & flexible, you can easily replace footwear that did not fit in your feet. We know that each person deserves to wear sneakers that are according to their contours. Hence, buying shoes for different size feet with good reviews can be worth your money & time.

Common Queries of People Regarding Shoes for Different Size Feet

Why is One Foot Bigger than the Other?

Following are the reasons why there is a difference in the right & left foot sizing:

· Major car accidents or tripping from the stairs can lead to foot fractures & changes

· Untreated childhood injuries cause degenerative deformations in the toe & the foot

· Not undergoing cosmetic surgeries after diagnosis with bunions, plantar fasciitis issue

· Putting increased stress & pressure on the right foot than the left foot changes shape

Can Foot Size Be Reduced?

The skeletal structure of your foot will not shrink or change. However, if you are following an extreme weight loss regime, you can lose lots of fat from your feet. On the other hand, excess fat can increase the size & framework of your feet.

Are People's Feet the Same Size?

No, pure symmetry in the entire body is not possible. There are specific differences in right & left eyes, foot & hands. Your facial features have minute dissimilarities from each other. They are not identical to each other. Hence, the best Nike walking shoes can have unique sizing for each foot.

What are the Solutions for Different Sized Feet?

Below are some of the tricks & tips that you can use to make adjustments in the shoe sizing of the best Nike walking shoes:

· Use thickly padded insoles to provide comfort & fill up extra spacing in the shoes

· Adjustable shoe lacing with hook & loop straps to provide tight-fitting to the feet

· Wear stretchable leather or fabric-based body that can adjust according to foot size

· In case one foot is small, so go for shoes that have buckles on the ankles for a snug fit

Conclusion:

To summarize it all, shoes for different size feet are nothing to worry about. It is a very common thing which most of us are a victim of. So, thoroughly read our guide & list down all the venues that offer split shoes. Go for custom-made shoes that fit your sizing & enjoy your daily routine chores without any pain.

If you Like this Blog, For More Shoes Guide Visit us at Shoe Expres …

#Shoes #runningshoes #nikeshoe #nikecollection

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hellomynameisbisexual · 4 years ago

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5 Ways That Bi Erasure Hurts More Than Just Bisexual People

December 2, 2014 by Milo Todd

This year, Bisexual Awareness Day/Celebrate Bisexuality Day was on September 23rd.

That same day, the National LGBTQ Task Force thought it’d be a good idea to post an article entitled “Bye Bye Bi, Hello Queer,” in which leadership programs director Evangeline Weiss said “she is ready ‘to say bye bye to the word bisexuality.’

She said it does not describe her sexual orientation, and she encouraged readers to cease using the word as well as she felt it reinforced a binary concept of gender.

Let me drive that home a little more. The National LGBTQ Task Force not only thought it would be a good idea to publish an article insulting, misrepresenting, and forsaking the bisexual letter in their own name, but did so on Celebrate Bisexuality Day.

Rude.

And a fantastic example of the constant, ongoing erasure bisexual people have to deal with. This one just happened to be incredibly blatant.

What happened as a result of that article? People got pissed.

People got so pissed that the Task Force not only removed the article from their website, but posted in its place this non-apology (it keeps being referred to as an apology, but I’m not so easily pleased): “Having listened to a wide array of feedback on the timing and content, we recognize that this blog offended people. For this we sincerely apologize. It has been removed.”

In other words, “Sorry you got pissed off. Hopefully you’ll shut up if we take it down.” Which, as far as I can tell, isn’t much of an apology for a blatant disregard of an entire community of people.

Misunderstanding of the bisexual community has been the crux of biphobia’s history and the ongoing battle to erase bisexuality from the LGBTQIA+ community.

It’s a scary time to be bi, especially when your lesbian, gay, pansexual, and queer siblings and allies are calling for your blood simply because they’ve fallen victim to the mainstream agenda without realizing it. (Say what?! Jump to #5.)

It’s time for a change.

It’s time for all of us to properly understand one another and to — hope of hopes — become allies for our incredibly similar endeavors. To help initiate that friendship, I ask you, dear reader, to go through the following three steps.

Step 1: Look below. If I’ve played my cards right, virtually every reader should find at least one category with which they identify.

Step 2: Approach your designated section(s) with an open mind, an unprejudiced heart, and a desire to further enhance your own community/ies. It’s difficult for people to learn new things and see different views if they automatically approach them with resistance, which is often the case with bisexual topics.

Step 3: See how bi erasure hurts you as a person and, while you’re at it, likely hurts the people you care about. Because it really is happening.

So here are five ways in which bi erasure is hurting people of layered identities.

1. Female-Identified People and Feminists

Bisexuality is one of the only non-monosexual* identities currently recognized in the English-speaking world. If bisexuality is kept underground, it suppresses our limited, precious resources for open discussion about non-monosexuality. This hurts female-identified people and feminists regardless of their sexual orientation.

To this day, female-identified people can’t get a fair shake. Pay is unequal, birth control access is limited, and objectification is a daily thing. Non-monosexual women in particular are often not taken seriously because they’re seen as sluts, greedy, or unable to make up their minds.

Also, the general fetishizing of women is particularly intensified in the bisexual realm by (straight-identified) men, turning the very act of women’s sexual freedom, empowerment, and self-expression into nothing more than something for male gazes. (This is most often seen through the relentless prompts for female-female-male threesomes and masculine catcalls in bars when two femme-appearing women make out.)

By participating in or casually allowing bi erasure to happen, we’re ignoring the specific plights and abuses of bisexual women, thereby contributing to the ongoing problem of female inequality, objectification, and silence.

As feminists, we can’t pick and choose which women to fight for. The complexities of womanhood — and all of its cultural suppressions — are an all-or-none deal.

*Note: Non-monosexuality usually refers to someone who is interested in more than one sex or gender. (In other words, somebody who isn’t gay, lesbian, or straight.) Another way to say “non-monosexuality” would be “polysexuality” to help keep it from sounding negative.

2. Male-Identified People and Male Liberationists*

Just like with female-identified people and feminists, bi erasure hurts male-identified people and male liberationists regardless of their sexual orientation.

Allow me to make this pretty basic: Men continue to be fed the message that being gay is bad. Being gay means you’re not really a man, which means you lose your dude membership and the bulk of your male privilege. And since gayness equals the slightest shred of attraction to or intimacy with another male, all manners of bromance must be squashed.

In short, many guys live in a state of silent terror in this regard.

Bi men are afraid of being banished from the world of lady-loving, gay men are worried about losing all of their connections to hetero land, and nothing is worse for a straight man than being called a fag.

Constant monitoring, constant filtering, constant stress: Is this really the kind of world we guys want to keep living in?

By being able to talk about bisexuality — remember: one of our only non-monosexual identities — male-identified people can begin to break free from the masculine ideal.

Bi talk helps bridge the gap between being a man (straight) and not being a man (gay) and realizing, hey, having some manner of attraction to or intimate interaction with another guy is totally okay, masculinity unscathed.

Gay men can begin to regain their identities as men, bi men can finally start coming out, and “fag” will lose its strength as an insult from one straight man to another.

*Note: Male liberationists are more or less seen as allies to feminists and vice versa. Both will argue that patriarchy is bad, but while feminists talk of how it’s bad for females, male liberationists talk of how it’s bad for males. Examples include the inability to romantically or sexually love another male, the emasculation of men of color, and the physical, verbal, and mental abuse that comes from society’s expectations to be stereotypically masculine.

3. People Who Identify as Trans Sexual, Trans Gender, Genderfluid, Genderqueer, or Gender Non-Conforming

This one’s pretty easy. Some people on the trans spectrum identify as bisexual. But then they’re told they can’t or that it’s an insult to their trans siblings because bisexuality is believed to be trans-exclusive.

The problem with bi erasure is it adds to the ongoing problem of cis people — LGQ or not — telling trans people what to think. Cis people have a bad habit of thinking they need to speak for people on the trans spectrum even when trans people are quite capable of speaking for themselves. This is even more frustrating when it comes from a community supposedly meant to support them.

Despite the personhood for which they’re continuing to fight, trans people can receive backlash from the lesbian, gay, and queer communities as their identities and bodies are turned into political battlegrounds.

Sometimes, they’re used without consent by some cis individuals so that points can be made for non-trans-specific agendas, and sometimes they’re ironically used in the attempts for cis identities to help better the trans worlds.

For instance, automatically dismissing bisexuality as trans-exclusive and guilting any person on the trans spectrum that wants to identity as bisexual, if I may make so fine a point.

As blogger Aud Traher writes, “If you want to support trans people like me, don’t erase me or speak over me or cause me harm out of self-righteous biphobia. Look into yourself and deal with that internalized biphobia and then help others get over theirs. Don’t advocate for the destruction of a community in the name of ‘saving’ it. And, especially, don’t do it in my name.”

4. People Who Identify as Gay, Lesbian, or — Yes — Straight

Quite simply, it makes gays and lesbians (and straight people) look bad, too.

Bisexual people get a bad rap for apparently upholding the gender binary by saying they love only (cis) men or (cis) women, but isn’t that pretty much exactly what gays, lesbians, and straight people are saying when they identify as gay, lesbian, or straight? That they’ll only love either (cis) men or (cis) women?

But where’s their rampant backlash from the rest of the community for upholding the gender binary? I’m just sayin’.

Even when these groups extend their definitions to include trans people and people on the gender non-conforming spectrum, it’s often still as long as those trans people exhibit some manner of gender representation that falls into the lover’s category of desire.

Now, I’m honestly not trying to rag on gays, lesbians, or even straight people. They have as much right to identify how they want as anybody else. And there’s nothing wrong with feeling primarily attracted to only, say, cis or trans men if your brain simply tells you that you only like guys. That’s fine. Go ahead and do that. I’m not saying you can’t.

What I am saying is you can’t be spewing bi hate or letting bi erasure slide because 1) it’s incredibly one-sided and unfair, and 2) in the end, it’s making you look bad, too.

What do you think will happen if bi erasure is a success? You’ll be next, dears.

*cue Jaws theme*

5. People Who Identify as Queer, Pansexual, or Another Fellow Non-Monosexual

In late October, Lizzy the Lezzy — who I quite enjoy, by the way — shared a photo on her Facebook timeline explaining sexuality in terms of guests at a BBQ.

This would be all well and good if it didn’t include a glaring misconception about bisexual people, especially when compared to pansexuals. While bisexual people were defined as getting both hot dogs and hamburgers, pansexuals were defined as getting hot dogs, hamburgers, “and a salad.” Oops. What year is this again?

I’m going to make something very plain to you, dear reader: Bisexual people don’t just love (cis) men or (cis) women. That’s not how the ballpark definition goes. The “bi” in “bisexual” does not indicate a binary. Well, okay, it does indicate a binary, but probably not the one you think.

Instead of “bi” meaning a love for only cis men or cis women or otherwise putting men and women at two opposite ends of a spectrum, “bi” means a love for identities bisexual people identify with themselves and identities that they don’t.

Or, as the popular Robyn Ochs definition goes: “I call myself bisexual because I acknowledge that I have in myself the potential to be attracted – romantically and/or sexually – to people of more than one sex and/or gender, not necessarily at the same time, not necessarily in the same way, and not necessarily to the same degree.”

Look at that very closely. That’s still a binary. That’s still “bi.” And there isn’t a thing wrong with it, no exclusion to be seen.

When compared with the general concepts of pansexuals and queers, our orientations suddenly sound pretty darn similar: We love everyone.

Bisexual people get a bad rap for apparently being transphobic. While we’ve already seen a little bit in #3 as to why we aren’t, I want to further drive the point home here. A large portion of the transphobic accusations toward us come from the queer and pansexual communities, which in turn seem to derive from some serious misinformation and misdirection by the mainstream.

For the record, queers and pansexuals are cool. I like them. But the fact of the matter is that the misconception of the “bi” in “bisexual” as meaning an attraction to only (cis) men or (cis) women — and therefore upholding the gender binary — was created and imposed upon bisexual people by the mainstream. You know, the people that want the gender binary to stick around.

And some queers and pansexuals ate the propaganda they were fed? That’s terrifying. It starts to show just how large and sneaky the mainstream’s gender binary monster truly is.

By defining and erasing bisexuality on the grounds that it upholds the gender binary, pansexuals and queers are not only reinforcing the binary they so sorely wish to dismantle, but they are losing important focus on where the problem actually resides: the mainstream’s insistence to force the gender binary on non-mainstream groups such as bisexual people.

Further, holding bisexual people responsible for the abuse they’ve suffered is simply wrong. All that’s doing is blaming the victim. But, by recognizing and respecting bisexual people as they truly are, bisexual people can not only help dismantle the gender binary and put a new definition on the concept of the spectrum, but finally be allowed to team up with pansexuals and queers to crush mainstream abuse on non-mainstream identities.

Doesn’t that sound nice? I think it sounds nice.

TL;DR

Dear non-bisexual identities, please stop shooting yourselves in the foot and then wondering why you’re missing toes.

We’re here for the same reasons you are: for the right to love whoever we want and for the right for others to do the same.

So let’s finally be friends. We’re never going to get anything done if we keep spending our time putting each other down.

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