#idk. it's not like a big deal to have to discard two (2) contacts i have more. but it is really annoying to throw away two unused ones

[supercantaloupe]

went to bed later than i wanted. woke up way earlier than i expected (i didn't have a clock in my room tho so i just got up i didn't realize it was 7:30...)

also i had an unpleasant dream and when i tried to put my contacts in this morning they Burned Like Hell. i have no idea why that's never happened before?? i just put on my glasses instead but like. waste of a pair of contacts...what the hell

[red-hood-vigilante]

hbo spn storylines, drabbles, ideas, thoughts, wishlist, whatever you may call it. it’s messy, nothing makes sense and pretty sure a lot of these contradict each other

more of sam at stanford with jessica/flashbacks. jessica potentially lives but is revealed to be a demon (but she developed actual feelings for sam and really did come to care for him because a demon falling in love with a human would be SO interesting) OR she lives but her memory gets wiped like dean did to lisa OR she dies like she did but she is a ghost that haunts sam (he welcomes it but eventually he lets her go -> character arc). he still dreams about her though and he has her keepsakes with him wherever he goes, her rings, her favourite book, anything that was left of her from the fire

you have to be extremely careful when making deals with demons because they are cunning and evil creatures. they will follow the rules of the deal but will find loopholes to put some sadistic twist on the terms. you want money? of course, too bad you’ll be arrested for fraud before you can use any of it and spend the next ten years in jail before i drag you to hell. you want a perfect husband? sure he’ll love you. in fact, he’ll love you so much he’ll keep you locked up in the basement to keep you safe etc etc. saving a person often becomes the person that causes or leads to your death.

the creation of jack: after s5, when lucifer is trapped in the cage again lucifer fuses his own soul with a human soul to create jack, who escapes to earth to find sam and castiel. i have a longer post about this saved in my drafts

lucifer is trapped for good in the cage after s5 but if he was to return again, dean would kill him while sam would kill michael - this would be nice parallels and a sort of fulfillment of the “one brother must kill the other” prophecy because one brother DO kill another brother, just not their own

more azazel and how he came to the plan of how to free lucifer; opening a hell gate earlier, more experimentations with the demon blood etc

mary was infected with the blood when she was a baby, sam is the first and only second generation special child (longer post about that here)

personally, i want to see more and know more about john and mary’s relationship. when mary died, john and mary had fulfilled their destiny (having sam and dean) so does that mean that his love and dedication to mary post her death was falsely fabricated by the angels to ensure sam and dean would grow up in ideal conditions to become hunters? or maybe, after mary’s death, john wakes up from the spell with two kids he doesn’t recognize and a wife he thinks he loved, but the memories of the past years of his life are like a fever dream; he never wanted to live in a town like this nor was he interested in having kids? but here the house is, and here are his kids, but now he’s alone and empty and with no answers. (idk i just find john and mary and their relationship very fascinating) if the latter, if john and mary see each other again it’s like the spell activates again and they become blindly in love with each other, but once gone, they return to their confused and hazey state of mind, like just woken up from a coma

i do like mary coming back but i love how in s5 when she wasn’t found in heaven it was hinted that she was just discarded because she had fulfilled her “purpose” and i think this adds to the whole notion of how heaven and angels can be really cruel AND how mary is this mythical, religious figure to both sam and dean and we only get to know her through their lenses, like religion and faith

ruby is present for a longer amount of time to make the reveal even more shocking. at one point or another, dean does actually trust her and they all work together on cases for a while. ruby’s backstory as a witch is more explored. i like her death in s4 because she’s in this total state of euphoria and has achieved a goal only she was entrusted with, and she is so convinced sam will understand, until sam holds her down while dean carves her heart out. so we either keep that or she serves lucifer for a while (until he kills her which she is happy about because of her blind loyalty to him, could again mirror dean and john/castiel and heaven) or she serves lucifer and like crowley she realizes lucifer will kill demons after humans (redemption arc, but i don’t really like that, let her be evil!!)

dean and sam helps bela out of her deal and she becomes their go-to person when they need a magic item or book. she doesn’t like it but she owes them. regularly hooks up with jo.

angels are really hollow soldiers - they only follow orders and don’t understand the concept free will or choice or individuality at all. they are extremely righteous and strike without warning often on a whim, often very bloody (explosions a la castiel in swan song). if something fall into what they consider justice they will kill it. no concept of love, attraction or gender. real form can’t be perceived by humans unless they want them to, which leads to eyes melting (pamela) or breaking a person’s mind (in 5.16 zachariah actually says that sam and dean sees him in his vessel bc they’re ‘limited’. so.)

castiel, anna, maybe uriel and some others are exceptions to this, but only becomes so after longer exposure to human’s world. even then, they don’t change their violent whims, just the reasoning and where their loyalty lies

hbo spn is s1-5 stretched out for 8-10 seasons with the aesthetics of s1-2. i’m cutting out demon dean, purgatory, the mark of cain, the men of letters, the alphas, leviathatan, god being the real villain all along and the other worlds because it was just too much and far remived from the roadtrip aesthetic. keeping kevin, charlie (she is introduced via ash bc they’re hacker friends), the trials, rowena, uuuh the angels falling is such an interesting concept but idk if it would fit. maybe metatron? but his motivations are different. soullessness + the concept of souls might be kept if it’s explained better. i’m torn on whether or not to include the campbells

hell, heaven and purgatory are explained but only seen in glimpses, keep these ideas ambiguous and up to interpretation outside of what we hear. remember the line ‘hell is...well, it’s like hell. even for demons’? leave it at that. the exception is 5.16 bc that episode fucks so hard

if we end on swan song and let the show be the tragedy it is, i want to keep the ambiguous ending. is that sam or lucifer? if it’s sam, will he contact dean or walk away? we will never know! there is also no ‘the world is ending’ more than once, it really lost its impact after the second or third time.

idk how i feel about the men of letters - it is logical that there would be organized hunting and an established network and system on how to do things, but for the sake of keeping it hbo-style and grounded, there are no networks beyond the roadhouse and singer’s salvage yard.

i want sam and dean not have a permanent home except the impala, motels and impala ONLY. the bunker had potential but it was just for the sake of convenience it was there with all the lore and answers they needed when it was necessary. maybe eventually they do stop travelling so much when it becomes more about the Big Stuff instead of the episodic cases that requires driving all the time but it will be like an abandoned house in the middle of nowhere. i want sam and dean to never have a physical house as a home but they scrape together whatever they have make something similar to a show

as the show progresses, sam and dean become pretty hated by other hunters because they’ve started apocalypse and have an increasingly shitty reputation. and john was an infamous good hunter but also a dick. everybody knows that people who work with the winchesters often end up dead, that one brother will sacrifice anything and anyone to save the other and that they frequently work alongside demons. even the ones they DO work with (jo, ellen, bobby, rufus, bela) are hesitant to be involved with them

sam’s powers are strong but after killing lilith and the truth revealed to him, he represses the powers in shock and fear of how blinded he was by them and the rush of power they gave him. a little more about how sam fears what the lust for power and strength did to him. he continues to repress his powers, often to a dangerous point where he will be on death’s door as a result of not using them. when meeting jack and mentoring him in using his powers, jack asks him about sam’s powers after sensing them. sam eventually decides to lead by example and embraces his powers again, but remains extremely careful about using them (this also fulfills dean’s arc of having to let go of the holy-innocent-pure-ideal-not a person but an idealized version of sam-little brother sam he has put on a pedestal for so long)

bobby is viewed as a father figure by sam and dean but bobby makes it clear he doesn’t want that burden or relationship in his life after his wife died. he makes this clear to them too, but sam and dean have fucked up perceptions of parental figures so they don’t think bobby means it (they just latch on to whatever parental figures they can find)

we see more of sam’s relationship with the side characters; sam and jo hunt together on occasion, he hangs out with ash and talks hacking when visiting the roadhouse. he and ellen loves playing poker together. if anything, dean is the one who’s isolated - he only ever really cared about mary, john, sam and cassie, and never really had any friends. sam is way more well adjusted and sociable after spending time at stanford where he’s had conversations that didn’t only revolve around dead bodies and lore. 

this could also feed into dean’s extreme abandonment issues and isolation he feels and how this would affect his psyche

sam and dean are both unknowingly prepared to become the perfect vessels; sam loses his humanity by becoming more and more like lucifer (defying his father and his will) while dean becomes prepared by doing what michael did; casting his brother away in his time of need (blindly following his father and his will). very much like in s4 but even more intense and brutal (i love angst :))

we see different hybrids; demon/human (antichrist), human/(arch)angel (nephilim) and demon/angel (???), but none of them are all powerful bc narratively that’s really boring. they’re strong but have very specific powers that affects them and/or their surroundings in catastrophic ways (but no other worlds bs, we stick to the road trip aesthetic, keep it grounded). i want the only all powerful character to be god but he doesn’t show up at all, he’s the ultimate absent father. is it chuck? we never find out!

powers would for example include giving people diseases, force anyone close to them to tell the truth (not consciously, it’s just the air around them), read minds, create storms, light things on fire when they’re angry, make people hallucinate etc. like fucked up shit but not things that are too grande because again - that’s really boring

abbadon, the princes of hell and the four horsemen are more fleshed out villains instead of the one season reign the each had. 

being a prince of hell is a title that is inherited - after azazel dies, sam gets the title because he is the one with azazel’s blood in him OR meg does, but idk if that would be as interesting (if she actually was his daughter)

it remains a horror show throughout, lots of gore and blood

the moral code and ethics of the brothers are the opposite of the beginning; dean thinks in black and white, sam sees shades of grey and individuals instead of what they are. however, as the show progresses, their train of thought becomes opposites; dean becomes more open to how people are true evil and how monsters are often victims of their circumstance while sam becomes harsher and less forgiving after ruby’s betrayal along with finding out the truth of his existence and how there’s been demons around his entire life. eventually they’re on the same page and they see the circumstances. 

on the other hand; i also really fuck with the idea of dean maintaining his black and white morals on that all monsters=inherently evil, humans=inherently pure and good, but he is the only human on team free will. sam is half demon, castiel is an angel, jack is a nephilim, rowena is a witch, garth is a werewolf, mary is a zombie etc

demons become demons in hell by agreeing to become the torturer and thus giving up their humanity to be free of pain, does that mean they could become humans again by regaining some humanity? by doing good deeds? (potentially this is confirmed with jessica and how she came to love sam; genuine love and care for a human could reverse the demon process?) this also means dean was a demon in hell but was purified/turned back again when castiel raised him. this also plays into dean becoming like michael; in trying to absolve himself from what he did in hell he becomes ruthless, unforgiving and righteous to evil, much like the angels, regardless of his personal connection to a person and what he would consider “evil”

dean and pacifisim: after dean is cured from being a demon/the mark of cain/is made aware of his blind righteousness that he used as an excuse to kill, he becomes firmly determined to reign in his anger and violent tendencies by becoming a pacifist (like sam in s11) as a way to redeem all the blood he’s spilled. of course in his profession and true dean fashion he won’t be able to do it 100% so he decides to only act in self defense, and he only goes batshit violent on the offense when it’s about protecting sam

OR. dean’s self righteousness becomes his own downfall; the belief that all evil must be eradicated, refusal to see the circumstances and the shades of grey is what pushes him to lose his humanity and become a demon and therefore, in a potential ending the ruler of hell, because i think it would such an interesting journey from a to b, that dean starts out human, revels in his holiness, executes and kills in the name of his own holiness in the belief that he’s becoming the ultimate angel, the ultimate hero when it’s doing the opposite. if this happened then sam would take the opposite route; starts as a human, becomes more and more demonic, stops himself and returns to his hopeful and optimistic self, has faith and humility and that is what makes him ascend from abomination to purified and holy (trials). 

this could be a perfect 10 season structure as well: s1-5 are when sam and dean start off humans; dean becomes holy and as close to an angel a human can be, while sam drinks the demon blood and almost becomes one to gain the freedom and power he wants, but begins to turn it around to send lucifer back to hell. s6-10 is when dean becomes the unholy and sam becomes the holy even though neither realize because now there’s no grand master plan - this is who they are, who they choose themselves. don’t know how this ould end though; either as normal humans again (but there wouldn’t really be a ”normal” after everything) or they really go off the rails with sam like ruling heaven (not as god though, just as a good and just man) and dean ruling hell. castiel is human and stays on earth with jack.

the gothic americana aesthetic is kept throughout the entire show and is only shot on film

after s5 castiel returns to heaven to help restore order, and he takes charge for a little while, but eventually returns to earth after trying to introduce democracy to angels who didn’t get it. in his place, anna takes over and she rules heaven well (after trying to kill mary when going back in time she isn’t killed by michael, but narrowly escapes and remains in hiding to heal until castiel reaches out and finds her)

when finding out they are The Vessels and will be brought back regardless of what they try, sam and dean explore what this means more. dean throws himself into dangers and to protect others. he is burned, blown up, stabbed, electrocuted, beheaded and eaten, but wakes up the next morning in his bed without a scratch, without any pain and memories of his deaths. he revels in this untouchability. sam kills himself over and over only to be resurrected again and again by lucifer. he remembers the pain and blood.

that being said, while dean is like angel royalty, sam is demon royalty. the demons don’t go after him, they don’t hurt him. some even offer up themselves to be drained of blood, even after lilith’s death. it makes it really difficult to stay clean but he pulls through with dean and castiel actually supporting him. to help sam get through his addiction, dean stops drinking alcohol and they go through their withdrawal together

the angels almost worship dean as the michael sword and have an open disgust towards sam for being lucifer’s vessel - they always answer dean’s prayers and calls for help, they follow his orders if need be and don’t hesitate to heal him if he needs it. sam could pray until his vocal chords bleed or call out for help while holding his guts in his hands; none of the angels would come to his aid. the only one who answers sam’s prayers is lucifer as a voice in sam’s head or a hallucination. sam could call demons to help him out but he refuses

sam isn’t the first hunter to drink demon blood, to try to enhance his own abilities using the supernatural as a means to get there - there are hunters who have altered themselves with parts from werewolves and vampires to become better hunters, like the styne family (the guys from s10), blurring the lines again of what’s good and human vs what is evil and inhumane

if angels can’t find a vessel to volunteer, they will force them to say yes - the how is not important, only that the ‘yes’ is said, whether its meant or not, any verbal yes will do. the angels never sleep and they never eat, which is disturbing to sam and dean who are exhausted all the time and eat scraps whenever they can

castiel, like all other angels, is taught to despise and not care about sam winchester at all, but the more castiel gets to know sam, he becomes fascinated with him, how lucifer’s ultimate vessel, starter of the apocalypse and destroyer of god’s creation can be so kind and gentle, so full of faith, acceptance, optimism and hope. in dean castiel sees a good man, yes, but also a man who’s bloodthirsty, rages, revels in war, resorts all problems with violence, loves conditionally and expects unquestioned loyalty. sam too, has a darkness and bloodthirst in him, but it only comes out in glimpses. castiel thinks it’s funny, how sam turns out to be the opposite of lucifer while dean is so alike michael

[kinetic-elaboration]

December 29: The Wrath of Khan

Today’s movie watching was Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan.

My overall impression versus TMP is that this is clearly a smoother and more consistently entertaining film. It has a definite story with very little filler, good pacing, a lot of great little dialogue and character moments, and a strong conflict at its center.

But its sci fi bona fides are much weaker. Like by a lot.

Mom and I are talking a bit about Genesis and the more we talk, the weaker it appears to me. First, it’s not really as believable, imo, as a lot of Star Trek. Maybe it’s because it’s not alien based, but I just have a harder time suspending disbelief to think this is possible. Second, it’s not clear why anyone thought this was a good idea. I mean, as McCoy immediately pointed out, it just seems so CLEARLY dangerous: an object meant to foster creation that could so easily be the worst weapon the universe has ever known--nothing could go awry there! Third, the reason for creating such a device isn’t obvious at all. Carol mentions the “growing population” and “food scarcity” but nothing we’ve ever seen of the Federation implies they’re running out of space. Or, frankly (Tarsus IV aside), food. And fourth, there really isn’t any point to Genesis in all its particulars in this film. Like, obviously, its actual purpose is a plot device to resurrect Spock. Within just this film, it doesn’t do anything. Khan wants it, for some reason I’ve already forgotten even though I just saw the film, and he gets it, but I didn’t even notice that happening, because it was so unimportant. His REAL mission is his single minded revenge fantasy on Kirk. Genesis is just a McGuffin/space filler/plot device for the next film.

And honestly that’s not such a big deal, except that when you compare it to TMP, ,and its central idea of a human made probe that gained so much knowledge, doing what we taught it to do, that it became sentient and then started searching for the meaning of life, and how this relates to the search for meaning experienced by the main alien lead, and how his search, in that film and throughout the series, is a mirror for humans and OUR need for purpose... well it just seems really weak. “We made this really dangerous and unrealistic thing for no reason whoops!”

Mom is now criticizing Kirk for being too slow on the uptake when he first encounters the Reliant, which is fair. That’s pretty OOC of him. The idea that he’s too old for space is both one that I must personally disregard, and one that the film would have you discard, since we’ve already heard from TWO characters, the people who know him best, that his best destiny is as a starship captain, and command is his proper role. And that he might be a little rusty is also not a great explanation imo, because the rust was supposed to have come off in TMP. So, plot hole probably.

We were trying to do some math--TMP is at least 2 years post 5YM and TWOK is at least 10 years post TMP, so at least 8 years post TMP. I can understand more rust growing but like... he was already an Admiral in TMP and the idea that he was out of practice with actual command was a big part of his arc there. So it doesn’t seem warranted to do that again.

Also, the way he was commanding poorly in TMP was very IC: he was pushing too hard, trying too much, caring too much about the mission and not enough about...the laws of physics. That’s very Kirk. Being slow on the uptake, caught with his britches down--that’s not Kirk. Plus, with no one to call him out on it, like Decker did in TMP, his poor command doesn’t seem like a big character obstacle to overcome but just like...sloppiness all around.

I thought Khan was over all... just not that interesting. I guess I’m just not into the obsession/revenge plot. Also...idk man he didn’t seem that super to me. He outsmarted Kirk, like, once, and Kirk outsmarted him like 4 times. He tortured some people--but regular humans can do that. He used those sandworm thingies, which is also something humans could do. Overall, he didn’t seem to have any particularly special skills. The only time he really seemed like a worthy adversary for Kirk was when Kirk wasn’t really being IC himself.

I’m also not into the fridging of his wife. Think how much cooler it would have been if she’d still been alive! The only non-super human in the bunch and she’s still there! Ex-Starfleet and bitter!

The K/S in this film is very soothing. Imo they are clearly together here, and the whole film is better if you assume they’re boyfriends and everyone knows. That Vulcan convo that Spock and Saavik have? Waaaaay funnier if you think she’s talking about his boyfriend (”not what I expected....very human” “Well no one’s perfect”). Every time they call each other ‘friend’ like ““friend”“? All the Looks? The birthday gift?

Also the “I have been and always shall be your [friend]” scene is a wedding I will not be taking criticism on this opinion. Could it have been written more like a vow? I think not. It’s not quite This Simple Feeling but it’s the best this film has in that regard.

I liked Saavik and I do think she’s one of the better later-movie additions (though I only like her, as far as I can remember, when played by Kirstie Alley). She didn’t necessarily strike me as super alien, though, at least not at first... But I appreciated how persistent she was about the stupid test, and her regulation quoting. I enjoyed her. I also liked how she was obviously Spock’s protege, which makes her Kirk’s step-protege, and they had just a little bit of that awkward dynamic going on. (”Did you change your hair?”)

The Bones and Kirk relationship was great in this film. You can really feel their friendship and their history with each other. Bones knows him so well and can be honest with him, just when Kirk needs it most.

I also love how Kirk has the SAME conversation with both Bones and Spock (re: being a captain again) but with Spock it’s sooooo much flirtier. In case you weren’t sure what the difference in these two relationships is.

Bonus: this bit of dialogue: Spock: “Be careful, Jim.” / Bones: “WE will.” Lol Spock people who aren’t your boyfriend do exist.

Obviously, I cried during THAT scene. Honestly AOS should have taken note about how to do emotional scenes like that: they come after the main action is over and the villain is defeated. Then they hit at the right time and to the right degree. Kirk just slumping down after Spock dies....like he’s boneless...like he doesn’t know what to do... I CANNOT.

I feel so bad for him that I’ll even forgive him that awful eulogy. Spock died for Genesis? Uh, no, he died for the Enterprise, and for YOU. Spock is the “most human”? You shut your whoreson mouth

I remember hating both Carol and David but I actually hated them less this time, Carol especially. My mom is being really harsh about her, though, which makes me feel less confident in my assessment. I mean first off, she’s the inventor of Genesis, which is a pretty big strike against her. Second...pretty lame to keep Kirk from David. Although I did some vague math and Kirk would only have been about 21, still in the Academy, when David was born, so you can see how that would work out. Also, she distinctly says “Were we together?” which means they were not--this was a fuck buddy arrangement for sure. More complicated. But it still feels weird to retcon that, like, he’s known THIS WHOLE TIME that he’s a dad and we’re only learning about it now, as an audience.

Anyway I’m getting off track. Carol. What to make of her? Is she unstable? Is she still mad at Kirk? My mom points out that she just decided on her own that David would want to join Starfleet if he knew Kirk was his father--whereas what seems to have happened instead is he didn’t just become a civilian scientist like his mom but became her specific protege--working on a project where everyone was probably handpicked by her? I would assume? Also..he hates Starfleet. Not to put everything on the mom, but how did that happen?

Also...going down the rabbit hole of this and feeling awkward about it... but David KNEW Kirk. As “that guy you hung around with.” That means Kirk was in his life for quite a while, long enough for him to have memories, and long enough for those memories to still be with him even into his 20s. But he was never allowed to know who Kirk was. That means Carol’s rule must have been “You can see your son but you can’t tell him who you are” which in some way seems meaner to me than just “please don’t contact us again.” If he was already on his way into space, that could even make sense--”I know you’re not going to be able to be a family with us, so let’s not pretend, let’s make a clean break now.” But that wasn’t what happened!

Anyway whatever not to be HAICG!Kirk about this or anything lol

David is mostly annoying because he’s so anti-Kirk lol. I found him least annoying when he came around to Kirk at the end. Another big strike against him: he wore his sweater tied over his shoulders in such a Preppy manner. I honestly don’t see what about him is supposed to be reminiscent of Kirk.

David/Saavik was definitely happening lol. I wish I could have heard that conversation. It sounds like she told him a lot!!! Not sure why she attached herself to this particular annoying human so fast but I guess she did.

....I think that might be all. The uniforms and general styling were much better than TMP (though less funny/entertaining), and it was certainly an enjoyable overall yarn. A lot to pick apart and critique but in a fun way. Will probably watch The Search for Spock soon.

[maandags]

What One Night Can Do (Shiro x reader)

hey everyone!! how have y’all been? this week has been hectic as all fuck for me, and I’m leaving to see my family in the Netherlands in 2 days (and there’s a new member to my family!!!!), so i’m excited about that!!

-- -- --

Summary: You and Shiro haven’t seen each other in years--not since you had been hired at G. Empire Laboratories, where the working conditions were mediocre, at best. But your boss just fired you--which causes you to lose your engineering license--and when you hit a bar to forget about your troubles, you run into him again.

Word count: 9K

Genre: angst/fluff

Notes: masterlist - this one was very loosely based on that one scene in How To Get Away With Murder. you know the one. and it was also supposed to be way angstier but idk what happened,,, im not complaining

-- -- -- 

You're fired.

The words looped in your head over and over as you swirled your drink in its glass, letting the alcohol and the thumping of the music around you soothe the burning feeling that those three words left behind.

You are fired.

And just like that, you'd lost your job and your only source of income. Oh, and also your home. No big deal. How long had you not shared a flat with Lotor? Years. Three, four–the exact number had slipped your mind. You had done everything together: working as researchers in the labs, working out, having breakfast, lunch, dinner... Lotor--the entirety of G. Empire Laboratories--had become such a big part of your life that now that they weren’t anymore, you felt a bit lost.

You had only been allowed out once a month–and that included phone calls, text messages, any contact to the outside world. You never went to the same places as neither of you were supposed to get recognized by anyone. That was harder on Lotor, with his flowing silver hair, than it was on you, an average-looking person but always by his side.

Besides, Zarkon monitored your every step. You had never even been tempted to defy his orders and go to the same place twice.

Tonight, though, you looked like a regular sod in an old t-shirt and jeans drinking their sorrows away. Beckoning over the bargirl, you asked for a refill, already feeling the alcohol take effect and making you feel deliciously numb.

You'd try and spend the night with the Holts. They lived nearby and you always made sure to give them your monthly allowed call, catching up and assuring them you were doing fine, which was mostly the case. Matt and Pidge surely would be happy to see you. They'd probably let you stay until you had somewhere else to go.

Right now, you could probably survive on your–admittedly meagre–savings, but you'd have to find a job, and quickly. You'd scour the local supermarkets and cafés to see if they were in need of a cashier or a waiter or something. You'd just have to manage.

And then you almost choked on your drink, because Takashi Shirogane was walking towards you and he was grinning.

Oh, fuck. You were suddenly very aware of the fact that your hair resembled a bird's nest and your worn clothes, and of the fact that Shiro still looked handsome as ever–better, even. There was so much life in his eyes, your chest grew warm.

"Y/N? Is that really you?"

You tried for a smile, hoping you weren't too drunk for a proper conversation yet. "In the flesh."

He pointed to a barstool next to you and raised a questioning eyebrow. You nodded. "Go ahead. I could sure use the company."

"It's really good seeing you again," Shiro said, fingering his own glass. "I thought you weren't allowed to go out on your job?"

Your insides turned to ice and you stiffened briefly, but you weren't about to ruin your–and Shiro's–night by talking about your life problems. It had been almost four years since you'd last seen him. You didn't want to bother him with it, even though you had come to the bar in the first place to mope. Right now–you were grateful for the strange twist in your fate that had led you to Shiro, and you intended to make the most out of it.

"We got the evening off. Good–good work results, and all. Like a reward."

"That's great," he smiled, casting you a soft look that had your insides melt. "In any case. It's been way too long."

"Yeah," you laughed, "the last time we properly saw each other must have been, what? Four years ago?"

"Something like that."

You took another sip of your drink to give your hands something to do and shot him a genuinely curious look. "So, what have you been up to?"

As he talked, you hung off his lips, your eyes raking across his features and drinking in every detail, every word that passed his lips, every look he threw your way and every smile that made your knees weak. Oh, how you had missed those beautiful grey eyes.

Shiro and you had been close all through high school, and during that time you had developed feelings for him–feelings that you at first had dismissed as being a silly high school crush, but had turned out to be much more complicated than that and had cost you many a sleepless night.

The contact between the two of you had somewhat broken off after you'd graduated. Most of it was through texting, the occasional phone call or video chat here and there–just talks about the silliest things, sometimes until deep into the night, and you wouldn't have traded them for the world.

And then you'd gotten your job at G. Empire Laboratories, and you'd had to say a very abrupt goodbye to the life you knew.

Shiro had understood–he knew how long you'd been waiting for the green light on this job and how anxious you had been, and he'd been nothing but supportive, even though he'd admitted that it did hurt, knowing that he wasn't going to be seeing you for a good while.

And that had been the last you'd heard of him. It stung, of course–but you found that you couldn't blame him, as much as you maybe wanted to.

And besides, you were seeing him now, right? The two of you seemed to get along better than ever. The only thing was that those feelings, those damned feelings were coming back in full force and you had to struggle to keep a straight face, keep those emotions down and not let Shiro know what exactly seeing him again was doing to you.

He worked at the Galaxy Garrison, now. Pilot. Teacher. You smiled, recalling how he'd use to talk your ears off about the Garrison, how his face would light up a and how he seemed to be living towards the day he would finally get accepted–which he did, calling you up in the middle of the night to scream in your tired ears that he'd got in, Y/N, he'd done it.

You had been seventeen back then. Shiro had applied a year early and his senior year had been about the Garrison, and he'd often tell you how much he just wanted to go now. But he still had to graduate, which he did as an honour student, and he'd dragged you along to the end of the year ceremony, even though you had made it very clear you had made no plans to attend.

I'm spending my last day in this hellhole with my best friend, he'd said matter-of-factly, and you'd rolled your eyes, unable to hold back a smile of your own.

Neither of you were the same, now. Both of you had changed, experienced new things, grown up. Still young, yet feeling so, so old.

Then how come you felt so much lighter, so much livelier whenever Shiro looked at you?

"I missed you," you blurted, no doubt a side effect of the alcohol currently coursing through your veins–you usually knew when to hold your tongue. Zarkon had made sure to teach you. "I missed–this. Us."

Shiro reached over, taking your hand and entwining his fingers with yours as if to make sure you wouldn't disappear. "Me too." His smile lighted a fire in your chest. You'd almost forgotten what it felt like.

––

You woke with a strange feeling of contentment. Safety. Warmth.

Then you registered the arms wrapped around you and you sucked in a breath through your teeth, feeling your muscles tense up, and the events of the night before crashed into you with full force, leaving you squeezing your eyes shut and bunching your hands in the sheets draped over your form.

Shiro was still fast asleep beside you, his chest rising and falling steadily and you felt his warm breath wash over the skin of your neck every time he exhaled, making goosebumps appear all over your bare arms.

You wore a shirt that wasn't yours, the fabric falling to well over your hips. Taking a deep breath, you felt sickness arise in your throat–you'd have one hell of a hangover. You had been positively drunk the previous night.

Not drunk enough for you to forget what had happened, apparently. Not entirely. It was muddy, but the memories were there–the crash of his lips on yours, the cab Shiro had hauled to bring the two of you back to his apartment, the way he'd run his hands over your skin almost desperately. You scanned the floor, careful not to move and wake Shiro, and sure enough, there were the lumps you vaguely recognised as your jeans and dirty t-shirt, your jacket no doubt discarded somewhere on the floor in the hallway.

You closed your eyes again, willing the tears back and drawing a shaky breath. Right.

You had done something absolutely, completely, incredibly stupid, and you would pay for it one way or another.

So you bit your tongue and slipped slowly, cautiously, out of Shiro's embrace, careful not to wake him and hating the way your body immediately yearned for his touch as soon as you'd left it. You hated, hated, hated it.

You could just slip back into bed, go back to sleep and pretend everything was fine when you woke up again. Deal with this in the morning. You could just... see where this lead you. But you pushed the thought–strange, irrational thought–back in its place immediately, snatching up your clothes and working yourself out of the shirt you wore, sucking in a breath through gritted teeth when you caught a whiff of Shiro's cologne lingering on the fabric.

Bag, phone, wallet. You had everything. Slipping into your shoes, not bothering to tie the laces, you carefully lowered the door handle and flinched at the slight creak before stepping outside, leaving the door ajar and swiftly making your way down the stairs. Checking the time on your phone, you bit back a curse–it was 3.46 A.M, surely way too early for you to knock on the Holts' door. You'd have to wait.

As you opened the front door to Shiro's apartment and slung your bag over your shoulder, you let the first tear fall.

You were glad for the little coffee shop's 24-hour policy, and you sniffed as you stirred your latte listlessly, your chin resting in your hand. The scent of coffee and bright neon lights had somewhat woken you up but did nothing to lessen the headache that was gradually building up in the far back side of your skull and you asked a waitress for an aspirin. She gave you a pitying look and asked, "Rough night?"

"Something like that," you muttered, keeping your gaze firm on the plastic green stirrer as your fingers fiddled with it. She gave you a sympathetic smile and assured you the aspirin would come right up. You'd have to keep this address in mind; a place where a 24-hour policy actually meant 24 hours. You had a feeling this would be the first of many middle-of-the-night trips.

Your brain was too muddy, too tired to think about what you'd do when you finally did get to the Holt's. What you'd tell them, what you wouldn't tell them. You didn't know, and you were too confused and your mind was too murky for you to care. You sipped your coffee, wincing slightly at the heat of it burning on your tongue.

The doorbell chimed. You cringed, for just a second thinking that it was Shiro who'd woken up and come after you--but the guy taking a seat at the bar beside you was greeted by the waitress with a "Hey, Kyle." Kyle responded with a wave and a whispered greeting, and you felt your body deflate, the tension leaking from your shoulders. You ran a hand over your face, squeezing your eyes shut, and downed the last of your coffee, leaving a couple of coins on the shiny wood and muttering that they could keep the change.

It was dark out, but the streetlights were on and a big city like yours never truly slept. The night air was chilly and bit at your skin, the wind rippling through your clothes and you buried your hands in the pockets of your denim jacket, ducking your head down and staring at your feet, wandering around aimlessly for a while before you sank down on a bench. You took out your phone. Half past four A.M. Still a couple of hours to kill, then.

You thumbed through WhatsApp, checking your messages when you came across Matt's icon and you raised a brow. Online, the small grey script beneath his profile picture stated. You bit your lip, debating whether to send him a message–he might not even reply, for all you knew. Maybe he wasn't even in town. You decided to take your chances and shot him a quick message.

You: hey. you up?

To your surprise, you received a reply almost immediately.

Matt: yeah

Matt: why?

Matt: you okay?

You pointedly ignored the last question.

You: why the fuck are you up at half 4 AM???

Matt: i'm a college student, Y/N.

You: that's fair

It was silent for a bit, then the little speech bubble filled with three dots appeared again, signalling Matt was typing something.

Matt: why are YOU up at half 4 AM?

You pulled a face as you tapped out a reply.

You: hahahaha

You: funny story, actually

You: i kinda got fired from my job and lost my license

You waited anxiously for his response, biting your nails.

Matt: ...

Matt: wait

Matt: are you for real

Matt: did you seriously get fired

You: *jazz hands emoji*

You: surprise

Matt: but didn't you live there and shit???

Matt: where are you staying??

Matt: wait

Matt: where are u right now??

You gave a humourless chuckle, bringing your knees up to your chest and squinting at your phone's screen, imagining Matt curse softly and run his hands through his hair the way he used to do when he got upset.

You: well, right now i'm on a bench. somewhere. in a park? idk

You: as for where i'm staying... i was actually kinda hoping i could crash at yours for a little while?

You: just as i get my life back on track a bit

Matt: yes of course

Matt: i'll ask mum and dad but it should be no problem

Matt: u can use the guest room

You: thanks man

You heaved a sigh, leaning back on your bench and closing your eyes. You wondered when the sun would come up, and if you should start heading towards the Holt's house. Your phone vibrated with another text.

Matt: shit, Y/N.

You: yeah, that pretty much sums it up

After some texting back and forth, Matt told you to get to their house as soon as you could–you could haul a cab, take the underground. Whatever brought you where you needed to go the quickest. Matt would stay up to let you in and let his parents know that you were coming. If you'd just give a call when you were on your way?

You ended up taking the underground, the guy in the ticket booth casting you an irritated look when you cleared your throat, pointedly clapping his book shut before saying in a tired voice, "How can I help you?". He looked like he would rather be doing literally anything else than helping you.

Half an hour later you knocked on the Holt's door and only had to wait a few moments before footsteps came barging down the hallway and the door was thrown open. A dishevelled Matt stood in the doorway, his expression a concerned frown, and you raised a hand in a weak wave.

"Hey, man. It's been a while." You tried for a smile, but you were exhausted, and frankly, on the brink of tears. What you needed were a good long shower and some sleep. Matt seemed to catch onto it, and he beckoned for you to come inside, quietly shutting the door behind you.

The lights weren't on. Of course they weren't; it was still early, way too early to flick on all the lights and potentially wake all the other residents of the house. So Matt guided you to the kitchen, where a mug of tea was waiting for you and you cast him a grateful smile as you picked it up and curled your fingers around it, finally crashing on a chair and allowing yourself to relax.

"Thought you might want something warm to drink," Matt whispered, taking a seat in front of you. "For how long had you been outside?"

You hesitated, the edge of the cup almost grazing your lips. You knew you weren't ready to admit to Matt where you'd spent the first part of your night. "Since about three. I was–I was in a bar. Got drunk. Stayed there until I got kicked out." You sniffed, taking a sip. "Not a very glorious night for me, I'm afraid."

Matt sighed, running a hand down his face. As you eyed him from behind your teacup, you noticed the shagginess of his hair and the big bags under his eyes, the paleness of his skin. He looked about as exhausted as you felt. I'm a college student, Y/N. Right.

"Y/N?"

You turned to see Sam and Colleen Holt in the kitchen doorway, both dressed in bathrobes but looking a lot more awake than you felt. A tired smile made its way onto your lips--no matter how exhausted you were, the mere sight of them always was enough to make you smile. You stood, walking up to them and leaning your head on Colleen's shoulder, the way you used to do back when you'd spend half your life at the Holt's and you needed a hug. It seemed Colleen hadn't forgotten about them either, as she sighed and wrapped her arms around you, tugging you into her chest and stroking your hair. Silent tears rolled onto your cheeks.

"Oh, love..."

Sam patted you on the shoulder, and you blindly reached for him, yanking him down and hugging him too. "I missed you guys so, so much," you whispered into their shoulders, voice shaky with sobs. Colleen pulled back, her own eyes shiny with tears, her thumb stroking away the wetness the tears had left on your cheeks. She tugged off your denim jacket and told you to get changed, she'd wash your clothes for you. There was a pair of pyjamas in the guest room. You thanked her and Sam, shooting one more weak grin Matt's way before dragging yourself up the stairs, changing into the pyjamas–not bothering to fold your other clothes, instead dumping them in a heap on the floor–and crashing on the bed. You were out before your head even touched the pillow.

The next morning, you woke with a start and a screaming girl launching herself onto your bed. She crashed into you, yelling incoherent things in your ears and wrapping her arms around your neck in an embrace that left you almost gasping for air and repeatedly slapping her arm while telling her to Let go! Let go, you weirdo!

She sat back on your legs, a huge grin adorning her face, and you shot her a murderous look as you pushed yourself up, your hair a mess and falling into your face and your pyjamas crooked from the early-morning attack you'd just suffered. "Jesus Christ, Pidge. Is that how you usually wake up your guests? By literally choking them to death?"

Pidge's grin widened. "Not usually, no. But you're not usually said guest."

"Touché."

"Anyway," she pulled her knees up to her chest and rested her chin on them, "what brings you here? I mean, what about your job? I thought you weren't allowed to go out and see people and stuff?"

Your face fell slightly. "Matt... Matt didn't tell you?"

Frowning, Pidge straightened and said cautiously, "I didn't give him a chance to say anything. I got so excited when he said you were here..." Her eyes filled with worry. "Why? Is something wrong?"

You were suddenly very interested in the quilt covering your legs, and you picked at a loose thread. "I got fired, Pidge," you muttered at last, refusing to meet her eyes.

"Wait–what? Why?" Her jaw had dropped.

You pulled a face. Zarkon hadn't exactly given you an actual proper reason as to why you got fired, unless "giving him trouble" was one. Which you highly doubted, but you weren't about to tell him that. You hadn't even tried to protest, his icy stare numbing paralyzing your limbs and all you had done was stare at him until he'd impatiently waved you out of his office.

You hadn't even gotten to say goodbye to your friends– or to Lotor. Security had already taken care of collecting your stuff–the backpack you currently carried with you and counted exactly one spare shirt, one old pocket watch that had belonged to your father, your phone, and two books. Two and a half seconds later, you stood outside the Empire gates, shaken, about one minor inconvenience away from breaking down into sobs, unemployed and licenseless.

You shrugged. "I guess... I wasn't good enough for him–them anymore."

Pidge pursed her lips, her eyes stormy and her mind racing a million miles an hour. "That makes no sense. You're brilliant."

"Well, not to them, apparently. Not brilliant enough, at least," you snapped, the words stinging more than you meant them to. "Sorry."

"No, it's okay." Pidge hugged you again. "Well, your boss is a dick. I'd beat them up if I could."

"Oh, lord, please don't," you laughed, swatting her away, but apparently she'd succeeded in her mission to make you feel better because she pulled you into one more hug and then bounded for the door.

"Get into the shower. You smell. Breakfast's in half an hour."

"Wow. All right."

– – –

"So... what are you going to do now?" Colleen asked, leaning back in her chair and sizing you up with a critical gaze. You liked how she did that–immediately went to the subject that danced around in everyone's minds, without tiptoeing around it or treating you like you were something fragile and made out of glass. You brushed the crumbs off your hands, munching the last of your eggs thoughtfully.

"Honestly," you swallowed, "I'm not really sure. I'm going to try and find a job as soon as possible, like at a café or restaurant or something. Hell, I'd take a cashier job right now. Anything that makes me money, because that's something I sorely need."

"How much do you have saved up?" Matt asked over his own breakfast.

"Not much. I've never needed to–most Empire employees work there until they retire. Once you've been accepted, nobody would think of quitting. I mean, it's Empire. And there's little you can do to get fired–" You flinched, your hands balling themselves to fists at your sides. Coughing, you folded your arms to hide them, flexing your fingers a few times. "Besides, the paycheck isn't as high as you might believe."

But that wasn't the complete truth.

Galra Empire Labs–the dream for every respected scientist, researcher, engineer. Having a job there was the pinnacle of achievement. You'd thought so too, once upon a time–back when you were innocent and full of dreams and hopes for your future. Yet you knew how secretly fucked up the whole company was.

Employees weren't allowed to do basically anything outside of work, and certainly not without the leading board knowing. Haggar, a terrifyingly intelligent scientist and Zarkon's second in command, somehow always knew where everyone was and what they were doing. You knew that the dorms were bugged, and harboured secret cameras, though you hadn't ever been able to do anything about it because Haggar would know, and if Haggar knew, Zarkon knew, and the one thing you wanted to avoid at all costs was Zarkon knowing.

Employees were granted absolutely no freedom. Breakfast was between six and seven A.M, lunch between noon and one P.M, dinner between six and seven P.M, curfew at ten thirty P.M. Everyone worked from seven to six, one half hour break in the mornings and the afternoons, the working conditions mediocre at best even though the company was able to afford the most expensive equipment. You'd grown up more quickly in your first week working at Empire than you had in your entire life.

The only reason you'd lasted as long as you did was Lotor, probably.

While he was a biochemist and you were an engineer, you shared a room, and spent every moment that you weren't confined to your respective labs together. Grown close, developed an alliance that blossomed into friendship. You and he hadn't talked that much, knowing that every word you said was probably recorded, and the last thing either of you wanted was for Zarkon to find out and separate you. So you kept silent, communicating almost solely through looks and sometimes holding hands, just because you craved the physical contact.

But even with him to keep you company, you got lonely–and it would be a lie to claim you weren't the tiniest bit relieved to be out of G. Empire Labs.

"But–I don't know. I'll figure it out."

Colleen rested a hand on yours. "And we'll help you with it, all the way through."

– –

You had to be honest–if someone had asked you five years ago where you'd be seeing yourself in five years' time, your answer would certainly not have been "working as a coffee-shop barista for minimum wage". Not that there was anything wrong with working as a coffee-shop barista for a minimum wage, you just had never expected to end up here, especially after having a job at Empire.

But here you were, taking customers' orders and scribbling their names on paper cups before passing them over to your co-worker Lance, who was in charge of actually making the drinks. Lance was nice. You liked him. Maybe he was a bit too loud and overbearing for your taste, but at least days at work with him were never dull. He had a good music taste as well, and in no time you were tapping your feet to the beat and humming along with the lyrics.

You handed him another cup and he frowned. "Satan? For real?"

Sniffing, you whipped out a new sharpie–the other one was starting to dry out–and doodled a little flower next to the name Juliet, winking at the little girl standing in front of the bar and flashing you a toothed grin. "What can I say. Some people never really grow out of it, and I don't think we have a right to judge."

"You have obviously never worked as a barista before. All we do is judge. We're judgemental motherfuckers."

"Oh, but I judge. I just judge you. There's so much to judge."

"Fuck off, Y/N."

"Just make the damn coffee, boy," you chuckled, spinning on your heel to lightly whack him on the head.

He squinted at you, finished making his drink and called out cheerfully, "Satan!"

When Satan had come up and retrieved his drink, giggling under her breath, Lance planted a hand on his hip and pointed the other at your face. "You've been here for, like, a week and a half, and you're already starting to take command of this place and I don't like it very much. Step down a notch."

"Excuse you? I'm the one keeping this place running and making sure you keep your job," you laughed, poking your sharpie in his chest. "Dork. Get back to work, we have customers waiting."

Lance turned around, mocking your words in a high-pitched voice and a fair amount of hand gestures, his eyes wide and sarcasm dripping from his expression.

"Hang on–Y/N?"

You whipped around, your heart leaping in your throat because you knew that voice. Your eyes widened when you saw him. "Keith." Shiro's adopted brother.

His eyes shone with confusion and he frowned. "Wait. Aren't you supposed to be an engineer?"

"Yes. I still–I'm still an engineer. Can we, uhh..." Your fingers already fumbled with the straps of your apron and you said, "I'm taking my break," not waiting for Lance's answer to slip out from behind the counter and grab Keith's wrist, leading him outside.

"Hold on a second. Does Shiro know you're here?" Keith asked, hoisting his bag up on his shoulders and pursing his lips at your choice of location–maybe a small alley wasn't ideal, but the last thing you wanted was being noticed. A small alley was, at least, inconspicuous.

"No." Keith's frown deepened and he opened his mouth, but you cut him off before he could say anything. "And I'd like to keep it that way," you added through gritted teeth, hugging your arms to your chest.

"Wait–why? Did anything happen between you two?" Keith looked genuinely confused and you understood why. It was a weird thing to want, for your best friend not to know you're back in town after not having seen each other for years.

You heaved a pained sigh. "No. It's just... I got fired from my job, and I lost my license, and I don't want Shiro to know. Yet," you added when Keith raised an eyebrow at you. "Not yet."

"Why?" Keith asked, a puzzled look on his face as if he couldn't figure out for the life of him why you wouldn't want Shiro to know.

"Because–it's a lot to process, okay? I got fired a month ago and I lost everything. I stay at the Holts' because I don't have enough money to get an apartment of my own. I work as a damn barista because I can't get a job as an engineer anywhere because I lost my license."

"Hang on a sec. Why's that?" A sharp glint appeared in Keith's eyes.

Another sigh made its way past your lips. "My old boss–Zarkon–he made sure of it. Listen, there aren't a lot of people who get fired from Empire. When they do, it's hard to get a job anywhere, because when you get hired you basically turn your entire self over to the company, right? And when you get fired, you lose your license as an engineer or biochemist or whatever," you mumbled, fiddling with the hem of your shirt and shifting your weight from one leg to another.

"And you don't want Shiro to know because..."

You threw your hands in the air. "Is it so hard to do this one thing for me, Keith? I'll tell him. I promise! Eventually. Just... not yet." You didn't tell him that another reason why you didn't want to see him just yet was that you weren't really in the mood for the conversation that would inevitably follow.

Keith put a hand on his hip, narrowing his eyes at you. "Fine. You get two weeks. Then I'll tell him, because he'll kill me if I don't." He stuck out his hand. "Deal?"

"Fine," you grumbled, and shook his hand.

The two of you exchanged phone numbers, and then you were back behind the counter and taking his order, purposely misspelling his name on the cup. He cast you an unimpressed look when he finally took the drink, flipping you the bird as he made his way out of the shop. You responded with a blown kiss and a wave of your own, ignoring Lance's pointed look.

"How do you know Keith?" he asked over the sound of the coffee machine. "I've never heard him talk about you."

"I was good friends with his brother for a while," you said vaguely, ducking your head down and trying to stop your hand from trembling. The name you were writing–Janet–came out looking more like Jenit. "So we were bound to see each other often."

"No way. You were friends with Shiro?"

You spun on your heel, narrowing your eyes at the incredulous tone Lance's voice had taken on. "Yes. We've known each other since we were about ten." You paused. "That surprise you?"

"I mean–I guess. A bit. He's never talked about you before, and, well... I guess I didn't peg you the type."

"Do I have to be a certain type to be friends with Shiro?" You tried not to let your voice sound too defensive.

"No! That's not what I meant! It's just... most of his friends are from work, and you work–well, here." Lance's face had grown bright red. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you–"

"No, it's fine," you muttered, ripping the cap off a new Sharpie with more force than necessary. "It was a while ago, anyway. Haven't seen him in years."

"I'm sorry, Y/N."

"Lance. Drop it."

You heard him sigh behind you. "All right."

As you took people's orders, a fake smile stretched across your face, you tried not to linger too much on Lance's words. He's never talked about you before. You set your jaw. I didn't peg you the type. It's been four years, you reminded yourself. Don't let it get to you. Besides, you'll see him again soon. Relax.

Yeah, you thought bitterly. Just relax.

– – –

You were draped on your bed, your phone on your chest, staring at the ceiling with a frown on your face when Matt knocked on the door. "Yo. Can I come in?"

You sniffed. "Sure."

He plopped down on the edge of your bed, pulling his feet up and sitting cross-legged. "Are you okay, Y/N? You've been in a nasty mood for days now."

"I'm fine," you snapped, but flinched as soon as you said it because you knew it was a lie. "Sorry. I'm just–a bit tense, is all." Your two-week deadline was approaching with a speed you did not like at all. You had two days left to make the call, and Keith was reminding you of it every half hour. He was getting impatient.

"Shiro's been sulking in his room for days. It's really starting to piss me off. He could use some good news," he'd said last time you were on the phone with him.

"So now getting fired and losing my license is good news?" you'd bit back.

"Maybe not that specific part," he'd admitted. "But you're back in town! That should be enough to cheer him up at least a little bit. I haven't seen him like this since you left for Empire." He'd chuckled. "Ironic."

Matt shot you an unimpressed look. "Right."

Suddenly you were overcome with an urge to tell him everything. It was eating at you. You didn't know what to do. You didn't want to confront Shiro just yet–but you also didn't want him to hear it from someone else; in this case, Keith. "Hey, can you close the door?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Why? Should I be worried?"

Rolling your eyes, you pushed him off the bed with your feet. "Just do it, moron."

He did it, then sat back down and crossed his arms. "What?"

You pursed your lips, trying to gauge what the best way to tell him would be. "I lied to you."

His eyebrow crept further into his hairline. "... Okay. And?"

"When I showed up on your doorstep. When I texted you. I hadn't been on the streets the whole evening." You grimaced, slapping your hands onto your face. "I slept with Shiro," you mumbled through your fingers.

"What?"

"I know, I know, stupid–"

"No, that's not–you slept with him." Matt ran a hand down his face.

"Yes."

"In his apartment?"

"Yes."

"Then why did you–" his eyes widened and he covered his mouth with his hand. "Y/N, tell me you didn't run off at 3 A.M. without Shiro knowing."

When you stayed silent, Matt whacked your leg. "Oh my god, you absolute moron! Why would you do that?"

"I was drunk! So was he! And I'd just gotten fired from my job, I wasn't thinking straight! What if it ruined our friendship, Matt? Hell, it would have. We hadn't seen or spoken to each other in years, and the first thing we do when we're reunited is have sex. How could I possibly face him after that?"

Matt opened his mouth, but you sat up and threw your hands in the air. "He doesn't know I got fired from Empire. And Keith's gonna tell him in two days that I'm here unless I do it but I'm not ready yet, but I also don't want him to hear it from someone else because he's still my best friend and I know how much it'd hurt him, but I just don't really know what to do." You let yourself fall back onto the mattress and flung an arm across your face.

"Wow. What a mess."

"No shit," you said, your voice muffled by your arm. There was a pause and the bedsheets ruffled as Matt shifted on the mattress.

"You know what you gotta do, right?"

"Move to Alaska and go into hiding?" you suggested half-heartedly, curling into yourself.

"No," said Matt pointedly, snatching up your phone and chucking it at your face–you only barely managed to catch it–ignoring your startled Hey! "You gotta call him. Now."

"Now?" You sounded like a whiny child throwing a temper tantrum.

"Yes. Now." You pouted, but his expression didn't change. "Go on."

You mumbled curses under your breath as you tapped your phone's screen, pulling up Shiro's phone number and staring at it for a solid minute before shifting your gaze back to Matt. "So, about Alaska–"

"Jesus, Y/N," he said, plucking your phone from your hands and pressing the call button. Your eyes widened and you grabbed it back, silently panicking and whisper-fighting with Matt, including phrases like "Oh my god, I'll kill you", "I'd like to see you try, bitch", "You are evil. Evil" and "I did you a fucking favour" until you heard a click and Shiro's voice saying, "Hello?"

Matt got up with a grin and blew you a kiss before skipping out of your room. You flipped him off.

"Hello?" came Shiro's voice again, slightly irritated.

"Yes, hi, Shiro, it's me," you quickly answered, switching your phone to your other ear and jumping up, not quite sure what to do with your hands. "It's Y/N."

"Y/N, hey," he said, surprise clear in his voice and despite everything, you smiled, because your heart still couldn't behave normally whenever you spoke with him. "How've you been?" he asked quietly.

"I've–you know–been," you said with a laugh, reaching up with one hand to rub the back of your neck. "But, um, I was actually wondering–could we meet up soon? I'd like to talk to you, and I'd rather do it in person. I'm fine, don't worry," you added quickly, knowing what he was thinking, "but there's a lot to talk about. Last time–" you cringed, internally screaming curses at yourself and resisting the urge to eat your phone like a potato crisp. "Anyway." You thought you did a pretty decent job keeping your voice level. "Meet up?"

"All right," Shiro said after a pause. "Sure. Say when and where."

The little bakery gave off a quiet air of peace and calm. The scent of fresh bread and sweet pastries relaxed you and you ordered a cup of tea at the counter. You were early, you knew, but your nerves hadn't let themselves be tamed this morning and Matt had gotten so irritated with you that he'd kicked you out.

You'd only just started sipping your tea when the bell above the doorway rang, and Shiro walked in. His eyes widened when he spotted you and he made a beeline for your table, carefully taking a seat in front of you. "And here I thought I was early."

You gave him a sheepish smile in return. It was silent for a moment, and you'd be lying if you said that you didn't feel the tension crackling in the air. But if it was good or bad tension... that, you weren't sure of yet.

"So, you wanted to talk?" he finally said, and you fiddled with your fingers, trying to avoid looking him in the eye and thinking about how to best start.

"Yeah. First, though, I figure I owe you an apology." He pulled up an eyebrow and you pursed your lips, sagging in your seat. "You know what for," you said quietly.

He rubbed the back of his neck, his cheeks tinted slightly pink. "But that's not what you wanted to talk about."

"No." You bit the inside of your cheek. "I've been back in town for over a month. Since that very night, actually. And I didn't tell you."

Now Shiro pulled up his other eyebrow and you pretended not to notice the hurt flashing in his eyes.

"I got fired, Shiro. From Empire."

His jaw fell. "Oh."

"Yeah." You fingered your cup listlessly, taking a deep breath and blinking back the tears forming in your eyes. Why were you crying? There was absolutely no reason why you should be crying. You'd already established that you were so much better off outside of Empire. So then why did you still feel like a failure?

"Hey," Shiro said, frowning and grabbing your hand when the first tear fell, and you barked a laugh, wiping at your eyes. "Hey. It's not your fault."

"Probably not," you mumbled, "but it still sucks. You know what happens to fired employees?" You didn't wait for an answer. "I work as a barista now. I lost my engineering license. That's how much power and influence Empire has."

"Hold on–you lost your license? How?"

"It's in the contract, Shiro. Fine print and whatnot, that I didn't read over because I'm a moron." You sighed. "Do you ever make a choice so stupid you regret it for the rest of your life?"

He smiled faintly. "I know the feeling."

You straightened in your seat. "You do?"

He didn't elaborate and you got the feeling he wouldn't, even if you kept asking. It was silent again as he looked at you, chewing his cheek in thought. The tension in the air reached a peak. Then Shiro laughed and the tension broke. He shook his head, chuckling. "Look at the two of us. Absolute messes, ain't we?"

"I guess," you said with a laugh of your own, downing the last of your tea and decisively plopping down the mug on its saucer. "I'm sorry for not telling you."

"It's okay. I understand. I probably would have done the same thing."

"Would you have, though?" you mused, cocking your head. "Keeping secrets isn't like you."

Shiro arched an eyebrow and looked at you in a way that had you positive that had you been standing, your knees would have buckled right from underneath you. "I've got my fair share of secrets," he said quietly, his voice hoarse.

You exhaled sharply, fighting down the blush threatening to creep up your cheeks. Would you ever be able to see him–just see him–and not immediately want to plant one right on his mouth? At the rate where things were going, you didn't think so. If anything, your feelings had only intensified in the years that you hadn't seen him.

"But," he suddenly said, and he straightened, "I'm gonna need you to promise one thing."

You nodded for him to continue, wary.

Shiro smiled. "Don't ever do it again."

– – –

"Are you sure about this?" you hissed, your grip on Shiro's arm so tight you wouldn't have been surprised if you'd cut off his circulation. The white walls of the Galaxy Garrison vaguely reminded you of the ones that had encircled you at Empire, and it made you feel so very small.

People bustled around you, running this way and that, some in heated conversations on their phones, others scribbling on clipboards, even others jogging a few steps to catch up with someone before engaging in conversation with them. While the walls may have reminded you of Empire, the people within them could not have been more different.

Some of them cast you curious looks when they saw who you were accompanied by–Shiro was just shy of a legend at the Garrison, and he always seemed to walk a bit straighter and keep his chin a bit higher whenever someone told him hello or good morning, nodding and smiling in return.

"You'll be fine," he assured you easily, untangling your hands from his arm and giving them a squeeze. "I've been discussing it with Sam and Iverson for months. They've basically already hired you."

He'd first mentioned it to you a few weeks ago–you'd been casually strolling through the park when he told you that he and Sam Holt had been trying to find a way around your license suspension, maybe even getting you a job at the Garrison. You'd almost walked straight into the little lake where you always fed the ducks.

Now you were headed for an interview–the outcome of which would decide whether you'd be able to work as an engineer ever again. Shiro had faith in you, confident that you'd nail it. You weren't so sure yet, your racing mind and shaking legs proof of that.

"Right," you squeaked, trying to keep your hands from trembling. "That's supposed to calm me down? What if I'm not what they expected? They could take one look at me and promptly decide that I'm not the person for the job after all, you know."

"Relax, Y/N."

"Hm. Relax. Yes. I'm perfectly relaxed."

The rest of the walk was spent in silence, and you had to resist the urge to scoot closer to him with every step. You wanted to grab his hand. But you were a coward, so you didn't. Then Shiro halted in front of a door that said "Commander Iverson," and you felt like all the oxygen was being drained from your lungs.

"Go on. You'll do great." He nudged you towards the door.

"Hold on–wait, wait, you're not coming with me?" you stuttered, gaze flickering from him to the door.

"This is a job interview, Y/N, not a parent-teacher meeting," Shiro hissed with a grin. He briefly touched your hand, and heat seared up your arm. "You can do this, all right?"

Nodding, you flexed your fingers, bouncing on your toes. Now or never. You knocked.

The man you assumed was Iverson almost immediately opened the door, and you were immensely relieved to see Sam standing just behind him. Iverson stuck out his hand and gave you a crude smile. "Y/N L/N, right? Iverson."

You shook his hand. "Pleased to meet you."

His eyes sized you up critically and there was a spark of interest in them. He gestured towards his office. "Shall we take this conversation inside?"

Just as you stepped through the doorway, you managed to catch a glimpse of Shiro's encouraging grin and raised thumbs over your shoulder. It calmed your thumping heart, if only slightly, and as you turned back to Iverson, you felt something in your chest that you hadn't thought you'd feel in a million years–a burst of confidence.

Half an hour later you stumbled back outside, still slightly dazed from the conversation you'd just had. Your eyes were wide and you were clutching the little bundle in your arms as if your life depended on it. To your right, Shiro pushed off the wall he'd been leaning against and arched an eyebrow at you expectantly. "So? How'd it go?"

You stared at him for a moment, face lax, before you breathed a laugh and showed him the Garrison uniform in your arms. "I got the job."

The smile that lit up his face could have illuminated the dark side of the moon and before you knew it he'd wrapped his arms around your waist and lifted you off your feet, twirling you around. You yelped in surprise, your hands crashing against his shoulders to keep your balance and you laughed too. In between giggles, you told him to Put me down! Put me down, weirdo, people are looking.

Shiro obliged, though he kept his arms firmly around your waist. "Let them look."

And he looked at you, and you looked at him, and the rest of the world seemed to fall away around you. A beat of silence passed, and heat coursed through your entire body and you were positive that you were on fire at that very moment, and then Iverson opened the door to his office and grunted, "If you two could just–not do that in front of my office. Please," and you leapt out of Shiro's arms like they'd given you an electric shock.

"Right, sir, yes, sir," Shiro said–maybe a bit louder than necessary–trying to keep a straight face, even though his cheeks were the shade of an overripe tomato and he blindly reached for your hand. You took it, grateful for the anchor, and the two of you all but sprinted out of there.

The Garrison parks were nice. Way nicer than you'd expected, and Shiro guided you to a somewhat private spot underneath an oak tree, its canopy providing shade in the warm afternoon sun. He plopped down at the base of the trunk, burying his face in his hands and you joined him, pulling your knees up to your chest and resting your chin on them, gazing into the distance.

"Well. That was probably the most embarrassing thing that's ever happened to me."

"That's my new boss," you said dryly. "What an impression I must've made."

"Hey." Shiro shot upright, grabbing your shoulders and shaking you back and forth. "You did! You got the job! I told you!"

"Yeah," you said, fingering the smooth fabric of the white and orange uniform. "Yeah, I did."

Shiro let himself fall back on the grass and he put his hands behind his neck, closing his eyes. You watched him, the way his face relaxed in the soft sunlight filtering through the tree's canopy, one cheek pressed against your knees. He cracked open an eye. "I have a question."

"Shoot."

"Why'd you leave that night?"

Your cheeks and neck heated up and you shot upright. "What?"

He sat up, crossing his legs. "You know what I mean."

You did. Somewhere, a selfish part of you had hoped he'd never bring it up and that you could just pretend it never happened in the first place, but that wasn't like him, and there had been tension between the two of you ever since that afternoon in the bakery. You figured maybe it was time to clear that up.

"I don't know," you muttered, raking your fingers through the grass beneath you. "I guess–I was confused, and my boss had just fired me, and–well–" You snuck him a glance, slightly turning away from him. "I was scared."

Shiro cocked his head. "Of what?"

You shrugged, averting your eyes and hiding your face behind your knees again. What you were about to admit felt stupid–childish, naive even–but you felt like he deserved to know the truth of what had gone on in your head that night. "I was scared that it hadn't meant as much to you as it did to me."

Shiro's eyes widened, but you didn't let him talk, feeling the sudden need to elaborate, explain yourself. "I mean–I was afraid that had I stayed, things would be awkward in the morning and it'd ruin our friendship and everything and I didn't want that, but leaving would also put me in a weird position because I'd have to explain later, and I didn't want that either, so that's also one of the reasons why I ghosted you for a month and a half, so neither options were perfect, and I probably chose the wrong one anyway but–"

"Whoa, hey, slow down," Shiro laughed, scooting over in front of you and gently tugging your arms away from in front of your face, forcing you to meet his eyes. The confusion or even annoyance you'd expected to see weren't there. He only looked at you with tenderness and affection and his gaze was warmer than ever. "I get it."

Gulping, you asked, "You do?"

He nodded with a grin. "I do. I get why you were scared because I felt the same way–have been for a long time, now."

You could only stare at him, dumbfounded.

"You mean the world to me, Y/N. You always have. I never thought we could be anything more than friends, even though I hoped it–and then graduation happened, and you got hired at Empire and I got accepted at the Garrison..." He shrugged, linking your fingers together. "And now you're back! And I know we probably shouldn't have done what we did a month ago, but I just can't find it within me to regret it even the slightest bit."

And before you knew it you were rushing forward and crashing your lips on his.

Your hands were cupping his cheeks, and his own were slowly coming up to trace your own cheeks before winding to the back of your neck and lacing through your hair, tilting your head up and closer to him. He pulled away for only a fraction of a second but you had gotten a taste and wanted it more, more, more until you drowned in it, so you chased his lips and kissed him again. You felt him smile against your lips but he finally gave in, a small sigh travelling from his mouth to yours.

And you kissed for what felt like hours, sitting underneath that big oak tree and whispering sweet nothings to each other in between pecks, fingers entwined, and your heart finally felt whole again.

[aquajolt]

D&D Discussion + putzing

 After spending the past 4 months going to school and playing video games, I now find myself in a funk where I don’t have a game to play (though Fire Emblem is around the corner) and I’m done with school till summer’s end. 

And with Mother’s Day weekend up, I figured my friends were busy doing there thing, but eventually what transpired was one of my best friends and I hanging out and doing ‘whatever’ Saturday night and Sunday morning.

And we talked at length about each other’s campaigns. I initiated starting a D&D campaign with myself as the DM and my 4 friends as the PCs. Later, that campaign found a good breaking point and we switched so that my friend got to DM and I got to play. 

We had a nice chat figuring out how to match player’s expectations, find story reasons, backstory tie-in, etc to get the PCs to form a party in my group (short answer: outside of town is wild and traveling alone is incredibly risky). His PC in my world was barebones compared to the other PCs. His character (and the player himself) is mostly along for the ride, but when he suggests more world reasons for their party to be and ‘why should my character come along’, it was high time we discussed possible motivations/backstory for him. 

My world is inspired by Weyard, the setting from Nintendo’s GBA RPG Golden Sun. I’ve set it to after the seal of alchemy breaks so that magic returns to the world and it’s dope sauce. other races pop up and after 100 years new lines are drawn and my campaign focuses on the northern continent of Angara. My friends character, B’Gari (inspired by Baten Kaitos’ Gibari - I know real unique right? =p) is Lawful Good starting and is along for the ride. Born of a retired Tolbi general father and a pirate mother who discarded her current path, his family settled in a south western town of Nashira. His father having military experience bolstered the town’s border and sea patrols to keep them safe from further pirate attacks (along with his wife knowing the signs of oncoming attacks and alerting the appropriate individuals). 

The pirates, angered by their plundering attempts united under one goal to lay siege to the town. After a fierce battle, both sides lost a staggering number of people, B’gari’s father being one of them. The attacks died down and B’gari grew up in a relatively normal life [This was all we really had up to this point with his backstory. We then added a bit more]. On one occasion, B’gari was returning from a fishing excursion when the sea developed a quick maelstrom. A wave 100 ft tall emerged and struck his vessel tossing him to the seas. When B’Gari awakes, he is on the shore a couple miles from his hometown. He founds a makeshift raft tied together from remains of his fishing ship. One paddle in his arm and a small spherical jewel in the fist of the other hand. He seemingly made it back under his own power, but he does not remember doing so. He is superstitious of the 4 Goddesses, but something unnatural occurred that day and he is grateful to be alive. The jewel has then be embedded into his current weapon of choice. His trusty paddle (which he wield akin to a quarterstaff. And as a fighter with the Sentinel feat enjoys whacking people when they approach him). 

Since then a summary of the first 7 sessions of my campaign are 1) fighting a tree spirit (Kolima Forest), travel to bandit HQ, beat up bandits & big orc, chase them to abandoned mine/caves, FFA fight between ‘good bandits’, goblins, and party. Steal ring from Goblins, run from an Abeloth, find a ring with jewel in it, have visions, beat other orc (brothers), then bump into plot character. 

What I need to do in my spare time is, 

Explain to my players why parties are cool. Your character should want to adventure and the world is dangerous. Party up!

I would like to incorporate Golden Sun Djinn into the game. The ring the party found has an Earth Djinn. And little does B’Gari know that his jewel has a Water one. A watchful force during his travels up to this point. 

Magic schools. Why did the schools form, where are they located, what is their purpose, how do they interact with the world, etc. Another PC has a sister in one of the schools and he’s lost contact with them. Possible that the schools are training them to be assassins or something. :shrug: idk! =p 

Plan shit for my next session. When? TBD. 

Then! We spoke about my character and his backstory in my friends’ campaign; whose world is inspired by FullMetal Alchemist. Got 1 continent with a strong military presence and magic items are restricted; requiring the necessary paperwork to keep and use. And magic practitioners also must have a license to practice magic. 

My character is Rasziver Quickstep. Gnome Divination Wizard. Up till the campaign began, I was in the military Mage Corp and part of a Wolf Corp unit. One formed to investigate local populaces and either register magic items or apprehend those items being used “illegal”. I am 1 of 4 children to ma and pa and up till this point, my DM and I haven’t thought about the timeline of when things happened in his world. So that’s what we discussed this past weekend.

The empire is located in the NW portion of the continent until some time ago used to keep to its own borders. 40 years ago however, power changed hands and the empire started to expand its borders. In the process, magic users and items needs to be licensed and legally documented otherwise they would be confiscated or the people in question imprisoned. 

Rasziver’s family are farmers and blacksmiths (gnomes being default tinkerers of course!). Growing up, my siblings and I learned that we were gifted in magic (more FMA inspirations! =D). We learned low level magics and used them to help out the other villagers and our family through life. Additionally, my family owns a metal construct (we call it Dump). Its essentially a farm mule, golem, ‘Castle-in-the-Sky’ ancient magical constrcut idk!? =p The actuality of Dump’s origins are the DM’s responsibility. My family just has it. 

So when the empire’s efforts reached my village 15 years ago, we knew that we were in trouble. 1) They would confiscate Dump. 2) My siblings and I do not have licenses. We would be round up similar and imprisoned. An individual in power saw an opportunity however and a deal was struck. Have two of the children join the military and the rest of the family can remain in the village. The village as a whole would be assimilated and be under the Empire’s protection of course. The deal would allow 2 siblings to get magical licenses and in some cases would also allow family members small permissions to also use magic. The gnomes took this deal and Rasziver and one of his sisters joined the military. The family also hid Dump, so that’s a plot point waiting to happen. =p 

Also my siblings are all in different magic classes as wizards. 

Rasziver (divination. Work in Wolf corp: comms, logistics, bookie

Carelyn (Abjuration. Part of Defense corp. Specializes in def magic

Zilner (Transmutation, tinkerer/inventor, helps out at blacksmith and re purposes scarps to fix things

Vorinia (Evocation, works in construction. shapes landscape for housing etc - outgoing, brash)

Bilros and Orna (Pa and Ma). 

And let me just saw, I love the structure of my fiction gnome wizard family and I am excited and scared for bumping into them in game. =)

;tl dr; Friend and I talked about our campaigns and our players characters in each others’ world. And develop backstory. Much fun was had! ^_^