#knowing that nobody (relatively speaking) actually cares about your real passion | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

prismatales · 4 years ago

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Word Count: 2.8k

Pairings: Ushijima Wakatoshi x Reader (Gender Neutral)

Category: Fluff, Comedy.

Warnings: Mentions of dicks in a comical manner.

Beta Readers: @strawberryakaashi @cassroler @dadchis-girl

Summary: There’s always a first time for everything. For you and Ushijima, this was the beginning of your unique holiday traditions.

Here’s my contribution to the Haikyuu Headquarters SFW Secret Santa! This is my gift for the lovely @kandyshoppe. Happy holidays, love! You’re such an amazing friend and a great artist. Every time I see your art on discord my tummy does a flip. Hope you enjoy my little gift for you, baby!

As far as Ushijima can remember, his family wasn’t used to celebrating holidays such as Christmas while most people tend to enjoy said festivities alongside their whole families or closest friends. Growing up, the closest thing Ushijima experienced was a small dinner with his parents, the dinner usually accompanied by a simple gift every now and then.

Ushijima’s family never got the experience of setting up a christmas tree, or decorating their home with things like those red stockings people used to hang over the fireplace. There was no need to prepare a feast for Christmas night since there is no need for letting children to make a mess in the living room as they ripped through layers of brightly colored gift paper to look for the presents Santa got them.

Speaking of the old man in a sleigh, that was a tale nobody could manage to convince a young Ushi to believe in, no matter how many times his teachers and classmates tried so hard to make him believe in. As a result, he made the other children cry more than once when he revealed that Santa didn’t exist…

For him, Christmas was just another day of the year, nothing he had to worry about...That is until you came into his life, and slowly began influencing his perspectives after getting together and eventually moving in together into this small, cozy place of your own.

That summer day when you moved into that small house was one of the happiest moments of your lives. Ushi’s stoic expression hid an excited spark in his eyes at the idea of having a place of his own, accompanied by one of the persons he cherished the most. And despite the many ups and downs that every couple goes through, he’s never come to regret your relationship in the slightest.

Every moment becomes another memory that’s swept away just like the seasons over the passage of time. Before he realized, all the trees had lost their lively appearance and the air became cold and crisp with the arrival of winter.

And when winter finally arrived, so did the same holiday he never bothered paying attention to, that is until you came along.

Ushijima noticed the way your eyes would always fixate their attention on the houses and stores covered in beautiful assortments of lights, spheres and wreaths, admiring their beauty with the same wonder as that of a small child. It was the same way you always paid attention to the surroundings during a trip to the mall, deeply enthralled by the soft tunes of the carols while cradling a warm drink with a smile, enjoying the soothing warmth against your hands with a serene expression.

And yet, despite the utter ADORATION for the holidays, you never suggested decorating the house, no matter how many times you both passed by the rows of lights or the trees they sold at the market.

“You see...my family never bothered celebrating Chritstmas before.” You shrugged casually, stirring the simmering pot of soup over the heat of the stove. “My parents were never that passionate about the holidays, and frankly we barely bothered celebrating birthdays as well.”

With a smaller spoon you took a spoonful of the savory meal, blowing gently on the food before pushing it towards Ushi, who carefully grabbed the spoon from your hands and gave it a taste.

“Is it good?”

“Mhm.”

Satisfied with his reply, you beamed softly at him and turned back towards the pot to turn off the heat so you both could finally enjoy some well-deserved lunch together. Said meals were always accompanied by some light chatter. He always had a new story to share about his teammates, and you always had something to say about work.

“Since this is our first year together...Would you like to celebrate Christmas together?” His question however, made the conversation differ from its typical subject.

“Well….it would be nice, I guess. Where did all this come from?”

“I see the way you look at all the decorations at the mall and how much you enjoy the songs.” He noticed you got awfully quiet, staring at the plate in front of you for a brief moment before turning back to look at him with eyes filled with hope.

“I’d love to do something with you for the holidays, but only if you’re okay with it!”

“Of course.”

Ushi's answer was short, but his tone of voice told you everything you needed to know. Needless to say, lunch was quickly taken care of before you were both out of the house and headed towards the car.

It was quite a sight for many people, watching you two go through the store almost like a pair of children with free reign over a credit card. Some people who recognized Ushi didn’t hesitate to take pictures when you placed an elf’s hat over his head (he had to crouch down so you could reach him.)

A couple hours later, you came out carrying a christmas tree, decorations and even some ingredients for cookies. Ushi had also brought something else but you didn’t get the chance to see it, since he put it along with the groceries.

Almost like a couple of kids, everything was quickly taken inside. And as soon as the groceries had been left back in the kitchen, the next thing on the list was decorating the living room.

Starting with the Christmas tree...

“ I...think we messed up.” You mutter, looking up at the mess before your eyes. Both you and Ushi are just standing there next to each other, witnessing the monstrosity also known as the “Christmas Tree”.

The tree itself has such a beautiful shade of green and looks so beautiful that it can easily be confused for a real one. The decorations however, were on a whole different level…and not in a good way.

“It looks good enough to me.” Ushi’s remark is filled with such confidence that you had the urge to ask if he was faking it. Because the thing in front of you two was anything but “cute”....

It’s covered from head to toe in such differently colored spheres, lights and strings that it hurt to look at it. The lights were also the wrong color, rather than that warm shade of yellow, Ushi accidently grabbed the ones that had multiple colors, which were also accompanied by an array of different colored strings….Needless to say, it was gaudy. The tree looked like it came out of a bad parody of the retro era...

That thing couldn’t be considered a christmas tree, but on the other hand, it’s not that bad for your first time decorating by yourselves...right?

“We’ll...worry about that later.” Your attention diverted from the shining atrocity, and instead it went towards the next thing to do on the Christmas list. Strolling once again into the kitchen with Ushi trailing after you like a lost puppy, you picked up the tablet at the countertop and began looking through some tabs, scanning the screen until you found exactly what you were looking for.

“Let’s try this one out!” The tablet is quickly shoved towards Ushi’s face, who blinked twice before grabbing the tablet away from your smaller hand and looked at the reason behind your excitement.

“Christmas Cookies?” There are different varieties of cookies displayed on the long tray. From Santa Clause's face, little snowmen, gingerbread men, candy canes to even little bells, all of them were decorated in beautiful shades of red and green glaze that looked absolutely delicious. The ingredients and instructions are relatively simple, easy enough for someone who’s never baked cookies in their lives.

The kitchen quickly resembled the white aesthetic landscape outside. There’s layers of flour everywhere you look at, the counter, the sink, your clothes and even your faces. It’s all accompanied with the comforting warmth from the heated oven and the lighthearted atmosphere as you both work in a comfortable silence, kneading the dough and rolling it into a fine layer, just perfect for the cookie cutters to do their one job. As you cut row after row of dough into different shapes, Ushi cut up some squares of parchment paper, laying them over a baking tray and shortly after, the raw pieces of dough were quickly placed down and shoved inside the oven.

With the timer set for thirty minutes, you turned to look at Ushi with excitement. He brushed the flour smeared on your cheek with a thumb, smiling softly before the two of you began cleaning the kitchen together along the rhythm of some christmas classics, waiting patiently for the oven to finish baking the sweet treats…

“....They don’t look like christmas cookies...at all.” The way you looked at these cookies was almost comical. As if life itself had been drained out every time you looked at them. If your cousins happened to look at these treats, they would think they were halloween cookies and your aunts would probably make fun of you for all eternity if they looked at the so called “bells” and “candy canes”...

“They actually taste pretty good.” You can hear Ushi munching on some of the baked goods. There’s a slight change in his tone as he enjoys biting into one of the treats without a care. When you turned to give him an unimpressed look, you had to fight back a snort. Was he really that oblivious about their not so innocent shape?

Watching him eat that baked failure had to be one of the funniest things you’ve ever seen since you began dating, you quickly pulled out your phone to take a couple of pictures as well as a video. Ushi swallowed the mouthful of sugary pastry and turned to look at you in utter confusion.

“What’s so funny?”

“You really don’t see it, babe?”

You tried so hard to fight back tears. And the phone kept shaking uncontrollably between your hands as it recorded a confused Ushi that kept looking directly at the camera. “Look at the candy canes.”

His eyes went back to the tray, raising an eyebrow in confusion at the deformed, yet tasty cookies. With the same expression full of confusion he turned to look at your giggling self “They don’t look like candy canes but that’s it.”

“Turn it upside down.” You’re trying so hard to contain your laughter at this point. It becomes downright painful to hold it in when he takes hold of one of the treats, all of his focus is on the treat’s shapes as he tries to find the reason you’re acting so strange. Until he finally turns the cookie the way you told him to. “....oh.”

You don’t know what’s funnier, the fact he’s holding a cookie shaped like a limp dick...or the fact he just kept staring at it before shrugging, taking a huge bite so nonchalantly, but by this point you’ve already forgotten how to breathe and nearly end up dropping your phone into the bowl of frosting. He may not get the joke concerning the treats, but watching you nearly slip off the counter in a fit of hysterics pulled a soft chuckle from Ushi. A barely audible one that you completely miss while you send Tendou a pic of your boyfriend eating those cursed Christmas treats.

“Alright, alright…” You wipe a small tear that slipped out before grabbing the outstretched hand before you. Taking a deep breath you look back at the baking tray on the counter. “I think we baked too many cookies. But we can still decorate and give some to our friends, it would be a waste to throw them away.”

“We can always make another batch if you feel like it.”

“Nah, doesn’t matter. Let’s just decorate these and take a break.”

After the little baking fiasco and everything was cleaned and put in its proper place, you decided to just lay down on the couch and take a break. You would be lying if you said it wasn’t disappointing that neither the decorations nor the baking turned out well.

At the same time you have to admit that spending time with Ushi like this was better than you could have ever imagined. So what if some of the cookies looked like penises and the christmas tree looked like someone had thrown everything representing the retro era, threw it into a blender and poured it all over a poor tree? You could still see a faint glint of excitement in Ushi’s eyes when the lights were turned on. The same glint that appeared again when he was biting on those delicious treats covered in powdery sugar.

You could say it was like an adrenaline rush that you were now coming down from, because slowly your eyelids began getting heavier with exhaustion. The soft fabric of the couch felt like a warm hug enveloping your body, welcoming it to the land of dreams with each passing second.

When Ushi walked into the living room, he was greeted with the adorable sight of your hands tucked underneath a cushion, holding it closer to your sleeping face while you laid face down on the sofa. The fluffy blanket that was always in the living room during winter covered your body up to the waist, except for the fuzzy socks you would always wear at home.

But the prettiest sight of them all was that smile adorning your face even in the middle of a deep slumber. A smile that he’s always cherished ever since that time he first realized he had a crush on you.

Perhaps you would enjoy waking up to a small surprise. With that in mind he went back into the kitchen and began looking for the stuff he bought along with the groceries, ready to prepare something Tendou had shown him during one of their meetings. Something he enjoyed so much and would love to share with you…

A delicious smell flowed into the living room, slowly stirring you awake from the nap. The mouth watering scent of spices coming from the kitchen was impossible to ignore, its alluring presence pulled you in like a moth enamoured by a flame. As you found the source of the smell, the one thing you didn’t expect was seeing Ushi in front of the stove.

“What are you doing, babe?” Even in a drowsy state, that didn’t stop you from embracing his waist from behind, nuzzling into the welcoming heat radiating from him. “And what are you cooking? It smells incredible.”

“It’s called mulled wine. Tendou showed me how to make it.” You took a peek at the simmering pot, which was filled with a bottle’s worth of red wine and spices such as cinnamon sticks, clove, orange slices and anise. He swiftly removed from the heat before it could start boiling and pulled a pair of cups from the cabinets.

And just like that, you found yourselves enjoying a delicious cup of mulled wine as you sat in front of the fireplace, cuddling together under the same blanket from before. The warm and toasty atmosphere, along with the soft music in the background, was one of the most comfortable moments you’d spent together.

“Did you like the wine?” He kissed the side of your head.

“Mhmm, It’s delicious.” You nuzzled closer to him with a smile, before taking another sip of the mug, sighing in happiness by the comforting flavor of the delicious drink. “I didn’t know you liked this kind of stuff.”

“Tendou taught me how to make it.”

“We should send him something as a thanks….as long as it’s not cookies.”

The room filled with a contagious laughter. You felt Ushi shaking as he chuckled at the reminder of the deformed treats before kissing the side of your face for a second time.

After his laughter died down, Ushi turned to face you. “I’m sorry our first Christmas together wasn’t perfect.”

“...Huh?”

The two mugs, now empty of their contents, were carefully placed to the side as you turned around in his lap to face his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“We were supposed to have the perfect Christmas together, but it feels like everything came out wrong.”

“Toshi, listen carefully…”

Your hands cradled his cheeks tenderly, thumbs skimming over his face and tracing circles across his cheekbones with a delicate sweetness he became addicted to.

“Things may not have turned out perfect but we still had fun, didn’t we? Besides, look at it this way, it could be our own way to spend the holidays! Decorating the ugliest tree ever, making cursed christmas cookies, having some mulled wine near the fireplace. I’m more than happy celebrating like this.”

It felt like a weight had lifted off his shoulders with your answer. His arms made their way around your waist, embracing you tightly as he captured your lips in a brief and delicate kiss.

“You’re all I want for Christmas.”

Taglist: @godtieruwu @hanniejji @savagetrickster @shoobirino @sugacookiies @unbreakableeiji @pixxiesdust @xmyshya @sugassetter @jayeray

#Haikyuu #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu x reader #ushijima x reader #haikyuu imagines #ushijima and reader #haikyuu fluff

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svtausinapocket · 4 years ago

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Snapshoot | Kim Mingyu

Chapter 1: The Wizard Next Door

Pairing: Y/N (Female) x Mingyu

Chapters: 1/3 Words: 3,6k+

Alternative Universe: Hogwarts!AU, MagicalWorld!AU, Slytherin!Y/N, Gryffindor!Mingyu, Photographer!Mingyu, Cop!Y/N, Friends to ennemies to lovers.

Scenario: When you discovered your neighbor was a wizard as well, you couldn’t help but feel excited to go to Hogwarts with him. Unfortunately teenagers are stupid and somehow things won’t go as expected. But sometimes life gives you a chance to look back at your past mistakes, even if a murder is involved with your former crush as its only witness.

Warnings: Smutty (coming), Violence (murder, crime scene, fights), and that’s all. There’s links on selected words to help you understands magical words if you forgot them ;) You can read this fic if you’re not a harry potter fan!

A/N: English is not my first language so I feel kinda shy tbh. Anyway that’s the first chapter of a fic I started to write a while ago. I’m pretty sure almost no one will read it but still, I feel like I have to finish it!

Wattpad | Archive of our own (not yet)

***unedited***

Sitting alone at your table, you moved your eyes from your potion book to the red and gold robes before you. The N.E.W.T.s were arriving quickly and everything you could do to fight your stress was to study, even when eating in the great hall. All around you people were moving like shadows, barely noticeable for your unfocused eyes... Nothing attracted your attention. Nothing except for a Gryffindor guy sat meters away from you.

He was surrounded by his kinds like the eye of a cyclone made of red and goldish birds.

If there had to be a leader it would be him, you thought. Like the alfa of a pack but with an irregular chick on his side. Indeed, with time you’d seen a lot of random girls sitting next to him. First it was Mina, soon replaced by Seulgi and her twin sister. Then Mina again, followed by Alexandra, Prya, Sana, some other boring young witches and finally Mina again. But if he was now free from any of those girls, it didn’t seem like his role in the group was lessened.

Peacefully watching at how his eyes were gleaming of happiness when he interacted with his crew, you wondered when it happened. When did you both start to be strangers to each other? Because watching at the scene and realizing you were out of this, of his world, you felt like a voyeur out of their right.

Actually, you knew him since you were both children. Indeed, his parents had moved next door when you were six, and for many years you’d played together in the corridor or sometimes in the building courtyard during summer vacations. But when he had been sorted to Gryffindor by this stupid hat it was still a shock.

The boy you knew wasn’t made for this house. Since elementary school Mingyu had always been vicious and ambitious. In primary school, he had already used his magic to steal his classmates’ stuff, or just to bother them, even if he didn’t know yet he had magic.

At least you could say it’s what had helped you set your thinking.

In fact, he didn’t really know what he was doing but, on your side, you could clearly understand what was happening. He was a wizard. Just like you and your parents. Except that unlike the three of you he was a Muggle-born wizard.

You’d told your family about it, about all your suspicions. But no one had believed the words of a young kid. To people, Mingyu was just an unbearable kid with a tricky brain _which indeed, was also true.

And as if fate had decided to step in, one day your parents invited his family for dinner. And then the little Mingyu had seen. His big eyes had been sparkling with magic in front of the moving spoon in the kitchen. His mouth smiling once the little boy had faced the remembrall in your room.

—

“I want to see a dragon.” he used to say.

“What kind?” You’d asked. Sat on your room’s floor you’d watched him talk with passion about animals and how we thought it was his destiny to take a picture of a real dragon and show the word they were real.

“Are they ...different sorts of dragons?” He had slowed down.

“Sure.” You had told him, knowing perfectly what you’d read in your father’s book. “There’s different kinds of dogs. So why would it be different for dragons?”

“I don’t know. What dragon do you think would be the best in a picture?” He’d asked, his energy progressively cleared up by your question. Not thinking about it twice you’d chosen the only one you remembered.

“The Common Welsh Green I guess.” The little boy had stopped to sit in front of you, pouting.

“But it’s common isn’t it?”

“Maybe. But they’re slower so it’s easier to photograph them. Plus, one of those made London burn.”

It was only the childish dream of a guy who would soon realize how accurate were your words while all his school friends will believe that dragons are a legend.

—

And so finally, your parents had believed you. As the true kindhearted Hufflepuffs and protective wizards they were, it took them time to decide what to do with the young neighbor. Taking him under their wings was not even a question. But how to do it was much more complicated. In fact, Muggles were not famous for being open minded and flexible when their life was about to change. So, they just decided to use your friendship as an excuse to never tell his relatives before Hogwarts letter, and just show him what the magical world had to offer.

From that point, things became quite fun. After telling him what was happening, they showed him books, magical tricks and brought the young wizard with you to Diagon Alley. All of this just in order for him to not be lost when he would have to bring his parents there, and also know what to do when he will have to officially join the magical world you were raised into.

His parents actually took the news pretty well, and to be honest, it was mostly because your family made a big deal about helping the young boy in his coming out.

That’s why you were soon together in the Hogwarts express, on the road to becoming two proud wizards. You were happy.

Things could only go well. Right?

—

To everyone's surprise he was sorted to Gryffindor, and you were sent to Slytherin. It was a real shock; one nobody had anticipated. And while he was led to the Gryffindor Tower, you were walking down the stairs to reach Slytherin Dungeon. He was in the light and you were in the dark, becoming the black sheep of your Gryffindor and Hufflepuff family.

But something happened. Or rather than something, nothing happened. He soon had new friends and you had yours. And it appeared that none of you told people that you were neighbors and more than that; childhood friends.

It was like a silent agreement between both of you.

You never spoke to each other in the presence of your respective friends. Because more than being in the rival houses, it would have been a shame. Or at least your teenagers’ stupid brains thought so.

Indeed, he soon started to become really popular among your classmates due to his charms and his ability to socialize easily. Plus, his fuckboy image didn’t match with the calm and intellectual one you shared with your own friends. Maybe he had his reasons to avoid you, but you clearly had yours. You had to prove to people- and to yourself, that being a Slytherin in a red and yellow family didn’t make you less competent or valuable. That, on the contrary, it was making you a better person. You wanted to be the best and you worked for it.

Every day you studied so hard to be the number one. To be able to achieve your career dreams despite your S label. People had to think you were calm, studious and perfect. To perceive you as the type of girl who doesn’t have time for troublemakers like Mingyu and his crew.

So, after hearing how Chunhee and Seokmin had criticized him and his band, you’d decided to just stay silent about your relationship with Mingyu.

And he did the same.

—

But it was strange and really uncomfortable.

One day you were in the muggle train, heading to your hometown for the first time since the start of the school year. Everything was peaceful and calm. Christmas snow was falling on the London suburb, while Mingyu’s head had fallen on your shoulder. And just like the railroad, his breath was slow, relaxing and cadenced. He was taking a nap.

You had just supposed he had had fun with his friends the night before, so you didn’t say anything, reading on your own, but each time a person walked between the train sits, you were feeling your stomach twist. That’s when the lungs in your torso sighed loudly to expel the stress from your body.

“What?” Asked Mingyu, not as asleep as you thought.

During a second you stood silent before speaking. You felt how dry your throat was due to anticipation.

“Are you not afraid that someone could see us like that?”

“Afraid?” He started without opening his eyes. “Please Y/N, the train is almost empty. Plus, we’re in a muggle train, far away from the city, so we won’t run into one of our classmates.”

“Please understand me, but if a classmate sees us, I don’t want my image to be riddled by a slug, who salivate in his sleep.” You laughed.

“F*ck off. I know I’m not drooling. How could someone so perfect like me salivate in his sleep?”

Your snigger made his head move a bit.

As soon as this conversation had started, a silence had fallen on it. One of the unstable lights on your right switched on just to illuminate his delicate face. You were taking your time to look at him, at the black hair falling on his forehead, at those cute pink lips half-open, while your heart was pounding loudly against your rib cage.

“And in the worst case. Just imagine someone sees us. Who cares?”

You didn’t agree, because you didn’t believe his words, and for good reasons.

—

To be honest you perfectly remember when you became full strangers. You couldn’t forget the day you both decided to stop this farce.

“Y/N, is there something between you two?” Had suddenly asked Seokmin. You were sitting on the corridor floor, your eyes focused on your last arithmancy lesson. Last month you’d had bad grades at it and you absolutely wanted to improve so you could be ready for the O.W.L.s. Some drops were falling from your wet hair to the paper in front of you, drawing ink on the white sheet.

“Stop studying” your friend laughed while sitting next to you. “We just won our quidditch match against Gryffindor, you should be celebrating, not studying.”

“I know I know” you smiled while closing the lesson and contracting your fingers around it. “I was waiting for you. I can’t celebrate without you and Chunhee.” Even after taking a shower, you could still feel a mix of sweat and water on your skin. Your legs and arms were already aching due to the game. You were obviously tired. Indeed, the match became hard since Gryffindor had placed Mingyu as the Seeker and you had to admit he wasn’t that bad for a newbie.

“So. Tell me Y/N. Is there something between you two?” You frowned your eyebrows.

“Sorry, what?”

“You and Mingyu.”

At his words you felt your heart clench. Yes, there used to be something. Not that you would admit it of course, but still, it had been months since you two spoke to each other and you started to feel like he was avoiding you for no reasons. Maybe he’d grown tired of you. Or maybe he just didn’t care anymore. You fist tightened around the papers in your hand.

“No, of course not” you lied. It had become a habit to avoid the truth about it, and five years of lying had started to make it feel like it was nothing when it truly was a weight on your shoulders. Indeed, you were now fifteen, and thinking back at your arrival in Hogwarts you’d started to wonder if all of this wasn’t too extreme or ridiculous.

“Why?”

“I saw the face you made up there, when he was accidently hit by the Quaffle. I’m glad Steph caught it right in time and sent it back to you, because I swear you had the face of a girl ready to ask him if he was okay. Plus… when we danced together during the Yule ball, he kind of… stared at me weirdly you know.”

Listening to him, you’d blushed. Seokmin and Chunhee knew you probably better than anyone, and it made sense for them to realize something was off. Plus, this time, you were guilty and thinking about it just made the situation even more complicated.

One hour ago, you were still on your broom, flying in the air as easily as a bird would, just to make your Chaser job. For the first time in your quidditch experience the match was really tight. Your team and the Gryffindor one were already fighting for one hour under pouring rain. The seekers were flying hard to catch the Golden Snitch and you had felt how your classmates started to get tired of playing. Some already had had accidents and had left the game to be welcomed at the infirmary. Each new minute was making the match even more risky. And as if it was supposed to arrive, you’d made a mistake.

You hadn’t looked around you to make sure the area was safe and rushing to catch the soaked Quaffle you only succeeded in blocking Mingyu’s path. The ball having no effect on your gloves, you’d felt it slip from your grasp before the young seeker was hit in the face. He’d lost his balance, hitting your ribcage with his broomstick. But if you’d succeeded into staying stable, he hadn’t. You’d watched him being kicked out of the Golden Snitch chase with bitterness on your tongue.

It wasn’t properly speaking, a foul, but it wasn’t fair at all. Before you had been able do something stupid for your team, Steph had sent you the Quaffle again and you were back in the game.

Your team won. You knew it was because of this incident and hitting the wall with your head you cursed at yourself.

“Actually I-”

“Oh my God.” Stopped Seokmin. His eyes were no longer staring at you. “Speaking of the devil.”

You saw Mingyu arrive in the corner of your eye, and both of you immediately stood up. You’d never seen him like this before. He was fuming, his dark eyes staring at you with enough anger to make a mandragore shut up with only a glare. You felt your stomach twist.

“Okay, you know what I’ll just let you alone. I’ll wait outside with Chunhee.” Started Seokmin. “Please, don’t get killed okay?” Before you could say something, your friend had disappeared. What a chicken.

Suddenly your environment became hostile. The corridor you were in was too long, too dark and felt too isolated. The pouring rain outside the arena was louder with each step he was taking. He still had his Gryffindor Quidditch shirt, but with a huge thunderclap hitting the sky, the red and gold didn’t seem welcoming anymore.

“Mingyu I…”

Arriving in front of you he smashed your arithmancy papers with his hand. The sheets then crashed on the floor.

“Mingyu what the hell is wrong with you?!” You started while squatting down to pick them up.

“What the hell is wrong with me?! What the hell is wrong with you!” He yelled. Somehow you heard people arriving in the corridor on your left but didn’t bother to look at them. Anger was creeping in your heart and you couldn’t be distracted from it. You were now looking straight into Mingyu’s eyes, yours mimicking the fire burning it his. “Did you seriously think it was fun to hit me with a Quaffle?!”

“Oh, please stop it! It’s not like I did it on purpose.” You rolled your eyes when he stepped closer.

“Really?! I’m not sure of that. You’re a Slytherin after all.”

His rather beautiful eyes were narrowed in some infuriating crescents. Mixed with his sly smile and an obvious excess of confidence, his aura was making you beside yourself. You swear all you wanted at that moment was to punch this stupid Gryffindor right in his beautiful face. One minute earlier you were about to apologize to your_ obviously, no longer friend, but the douchebag he’d become had ruined everything. Again.

Now deeply hurt by his words all you could feel was the raging flame waving in your heart.

“Okay that’s enough.” you stopped, offended. “Do you… seriously thought I did it just for my Slytherin team to win?!”

“Why not. That’s what a snake would do.”

You pushed him with all your strength. Adrenaline had gotten over you and now you felt even more energized than before the game. His back hit the wall behind him, a painful grin deforming his handsome features. He probably hadn’t expected you to react so violently.

As it seems he’d become more than a jerk; his popularity had turned him into a coward as well. All he could do was attack you with what he knew would make you wince, what would make your feelings scream and what would break your heart. Years of friendship spent together to use your weakest points against you in the end.

“You fucking idiot!” You said with a dark shadow surrounding your body. He was now only centimeters away from your green and silver clothes, and your finger was pointing his chest with too much strength for a simple accusation. “When did you became so stupid to think I would do something like that?! Especially to you.” Now you no longer cared, rather it would reveal something about your true feelings for him or not. Indeed, your eyes were tearing from a mix of anger and sadness, exposing you to this guy you once knew.

“And when did you become so cold hearted that your parents would be ashamed to have a Slytherin as their daughter?!” He answered back. It was the straw that broke the camel’s back.

Your fist crushed his jaw with enough strength to break his bones. He let out a groan. But before you could do anything to analyze the ache in your phalanx, Mingyu had made a move. Seizing your chest, he tackled you to the ground, your ribs hitting the hard floor with too much intensity for the already painful bruise you got earlier from your quidditch altercation. You let out a scream while automatically grabbing your ribcage as a protection.

If you weren’t full of rage you would have noticed how his expression changed from animosity to perplexity. Your eyes would have been able to see how he’d suddenly understood you were hurt too by the Quaffle incident. But the fury you were only saw an opportunity to fight back. Because the distance he’d put between your bodies to see you from afar was giving you the chance to kick him with your right leg. And so did you.

His body rolled to the side, his arms crossed in front of his face as a defense mechanism. Now that you’d stood up, you were ready to hit him again when a voice stopped you in your tracks.

“Alright kids, it’s time to stop.” Calmly said a female voice on your left. Before understanding the situation, you had been grabbed from behind by your classmates and moved away from your former friend.

In her Quidditch Gryffindor clothes their captain had arrived to stop the mess you were doing. She was standing there, arms crossed and looking at how you were trying to escape the hands stopping you from exploding. When Mingyu got up again and approached you, she stepped in. Diana was smaller than him but the hand she put between you two was enough to stop the young wizard.

“Mingyu. Stop. It’s your first match as the Seeker. Don’t make me say it’s the last one.”

The captain had spoken. At her words he stopped dead and looked at her, turning his angry gaze to the petite girl.

“She attacked me first with the Quaffle.” He tried to defend himself.

“No, she didn’t. It was an accident. We were all tired, it was raining. Things like that happen.”

“But...”

“No.” Turning in your direction she apologized. “Sorry Y/N.” And with her last words you’d watched them leave, Mingyu angry aura emanating from him until he was out of view.

If you’d managed to calm yourself after this fight he hadn’t. And somewhat he had managed to make you be forbidden from playing official matches for 3 months while he was healing from that punch in the face you’d given him.

—

Thinking about it you realized it’s when you’d decided to end this stupid friendship. That’s when you started to officially avoid him, not caring if he’d ever wanted to approach you again.

☂

Lost in your thoughts you haven’t realized he was now watching you too. Mingyu might have felt your stare, even if you had lost yourself into nostalgia. And when your eyes finally met you were surprised to see his neutral expression. You probably had blushed but were praying for him to be too far to notice.

Watching your open book again you tried to focus on your lesson but failed, knowing he was still smiling at your moment of madness. So, giving up with fighting the shame you’d felt for being caught staring, you closed your book and left the great hall.

☂

[6 years later]

The picture in your hand was taken far from the crime scene, but you swear you could see it clearly. Your fingers were trembling around the piece of paper the guy of the shop had given you and the cop you’d become could still feel her heart beat heavily in her chest. Indeed, the more your eyes were observing the snapshot of this young muggle, the more you knew it was him. It was clearly his face half hidden by a curtain and a long coat. Everything from this beautiful ruffled hair to the large hand holding the camera smelled like him. This guy was only a reflection on a window next to this damn alley, but you could feel it in your bones. Kim Mingyu was here.

And if the journalist he’d become was near a crime scene hours before the most popular murder of the decade, there’s no way it could be a coincidence. Damn it! You finally had a lead to bring back to the Ministry of Magic.

Excitement rose in your heart and you tried to convince yourself it was because of the investigation. Because there’s no way a long-forgotten frenemy could make you feel that excited, right?

A smile enlightened on your face.

Right?

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sinningismywinning · 5 years ago

Text

Do As You Please - 5

You weren’t as use to Thomas as you had thought. His small gestures of grazing your back, or slipping his finger into yours, gave your nerves an edge. No one treated you this way. Especially strangers. Strangers didn’t treat you this way.

Inside the Garrison, John and Arthur sat in a booth discussing something intimate. Their expressions were intense, but you couldn’t make out their words. There was a man seated between them. “That’s my cousin, Michael,” Thomas whispered holding the door open.

“There’s a whole lot of you? Yeah?” You questioned with a disbelieving laugh. He could only shrug in response. “There’s two more you haven’t met, yet.” He paused. “Actually three, if you include my aunt,” Your eyes went wide. That’s a lot of mouths to feed. Where did they keep them all? You pictured him as a big brother to many. Maybe even a little brother. You never learned the specifics.

You knew what it was like to barely afford candles. You couldn’t figure out how his family could feed 7, including himself. You wanted to believe he was born into wealth, but his mannerisms gave it away. He must have been self-made. Either that, or inheritance from a distant relative who he never got to meet.

For a moment, his words slipped your mind. ‘That you haven’t met, yet.’ Did he want you to take your rounds through the Shelby lineage? Not that it’d be something you were against, he was just a lot to handle by himself. The same went for his hardy group of brothers. “James will teach you how to pour drinks,” He gestured behind the bar. “He’ll tell you who has open tabs, and you’ll be under his wing for a while,” The man behind the bar nodded to his words.

This was much to take in. How would Alfie feel about you working in a bar? Dealing with drunk men? You shook the thought from your mind. You’d deal with it when necessary. “If you have any problems, let me know,” He touched the back of your arm. His sternness made you comfortable. You knew he’d handle whatever it was that came your way. You didn’t like having to rely on people, but he seemed stable enough for the task. “Yeah,” the words barely made a noise coming out.

He gave you a small smile before nodding you off to go behind the bar. He slid into the booth, and accompanied his relatives. You looked up at the beams. All wood, nice trimming. No one would ever see that, considering how fucking dim the place was.

This was a place where alcoholics came to cry. Not spend their money and enjoy themselves. That became apparent to you. You moved behind the bar and pushed your sleeves back up as they slipped past your elbows. “Ever worked in a bar?” James questioned. You could only think about your drunken stupor from a few nights prior. How embarrassing.

“I use to make drinks for my dad and his friends,” You spoke coyly. “Well consider it basically the same,” He politely smiled. “We don’t have a big list of drinks. We aren’t like the pubs down in London, with their garnishes and what not,” he insinuated. Obviously this place wasn’t like a pub in London. Your father had taken you downtown for a birthday, and you were able to witness the chandeliers and red glows from within the vicinity.

This place was a wreck in comparison, but surely some work and a set of new eyes would do it good. “No worries,” you nodded along. You gazed around. The wall paper was peeling. Paint was chipping from the bar, and some of the booths had tears.

The smell of puke wasn’t as pungent, since there wasn’t many people to hurl their guts out. Then again, the scent of tobacco covered it up, as it drifted throughout the room. James went through procedure for cleaning mugs, and wiping down the bar. None of this seemed as bad as the tailor shop. “Mr. Shelby takes a quarter of the tips,” he remarked. “So don’t hide anything from him cause’ he’ll know.” His tone made it seem like this was a previous altercation he took part in.

Your eyebrows furrowed. Taking tips? You looked over your shoulder. Thomas was in the booth smoking a cigarette. His conversation seemed fascinating, by how focused he was on Johns words. He still managed to momentarily look at you and catch your eyes. It made you could and you averted your eyes. You turned to face James once more.

“What a dick,” you remarked. James pursed his lips. He was trying to not show that he agreed with you, but it was apparent. “Your words, not mine,” he laughed. “I’m not sure if the whole share of tips works with me,” you mumbled shaking your head. James could only nod in unison. You decided to take a stab at cleaning mugs. Wasn’t as difficult as he had made it seem, but it was certainly gross.

As time went on, more people came into the bar. “That’s her?” Michael leaned to Tommy. “The one who spilled her drink?” You were a tall tale within the Blinders household, you just weren’t aware of it. “Aye,” Thomas said watching you keep up with traffic from behind the bar. “She’s a looker, hm?” Michael said keeping his eyes on you. “Pain in the ass too,” Tom said with a daring glance.

You always kept your eyes on the door. A habit instilled by your father. A tall slender woman walked in, and attention was drawn towards her. You couldn’t help but eye her sleek frame. She didn’t seem fit for a place like this. Then again, you didn’t either. You looked back to your patrons sitting in front of you. James let you pour your own drinks. It wasn’t a difficult job considering there were about four things the bar would serve.

When you looked back up, you saw her scoot in to sit next to Thomas. Was that his Aunt? You looked over, a little too intently. His arm draped behind her and she pressed a more-than-passionate kiss to his cheek. Aunts don’t do that.

You felt uneasy, but brushed it off. His cousin Michael walked up to the bar. “I’d like a mug please,” his accent differed from the rest. “Sure thing,” you said filling up a glass for him. God knew how dirty the drafts were. Your eyes went back to Tommy’s booth. The woman had her hand on his thigh, but no one else could see that. Her hand was moving, rubbing his inner leg. You narrowed your eyes in disbelief.

“You’re prettier than what my cousin described you as,” Michael pulled your thoughts away. You blinked not understanding what he was getting at, “Oh, thank you..” What else did you have to respond with? You slid him his mug. You figured enough that he drank for free, yet he still slid you money over the bar. “That’s for you, not the register.” He winked.

He was dressed sharply, and appeared closer to your age. He had an average, yet attractive face. His eyes were intense like the rest. “Thank you,” you spoke once more, tucking the cash into a pocket on your dress.

“I’m Michael,” God dammit he was getting too comfortable. “Y/N,” You hummed, cleaning a glass. You had to look at Tommy again. Sure as hell, there she was. Hands all over him, and he allowed it. Michael must’ve noticed. He saw the decrease in your productivity. “I’ve heard many things about you,” he said trying to divert your attention. “Yeah? Like what?” You shook your head.

“Heard you got a mouth like a sailor,” he smiled. “Apparently you give Tom a lotta’ shit.” The grin never left. He was more charming than the rest. “I suppose I do,” a small huff left your lips. You knew you were a handful at times, but not once did you ask for Thomas’ charity. He pushed it on you.

He was daft. Holding your hand in the streets, taking care of the head seamstress, the constant walks too and from your home. Were you in over your head? Obviously you assumed he had taken a liking towards you. Apparently you were wrong. “Don’t be so grim Y/N,” Your name rolled softly off his tongue. You didn’t have time to be charmed by every member of this family.

“You’re too real for a man like Thomas,” he said looking over his shoulder and back to you. He sipped his mug. “What are you getting at?” You set down the glass you were cleaning. He struck a nerve. “I see how you’re looking at him, how you’re looking at Lizzie,” He spoke lowly. “Don’t think too highly of him,” You were surprised to hear his own blood speak of him this way.

You didn’t know much about either of them, but Michael was being brutally honest. “I don’t think highly of him,” Yes you did “And he could fuck whoever he wants.” You felt your eyes roll from your own words.

Michael shrugged. “I mean, who wouldn’t fuck their own wife.” His statement floated in front of your face. You couldn’t help but laugh. You looked to Thomas. A ring glistened on Lizzie’s finger. His arm remained draped over her shoulder. Your eyes caught his, and he let a small smirk pass. You looked away.

He was married. The bastard was married.

Anyone would be upset, or distraught in a situation like this. Bothered, to say the least. But you kept it down. Held it in. At least you knew about this sooner, rather than later. “Whatever my boss does with his wife, my boss does with his wife.” You retorted. Michael felt the heat coming off of you. Your enunciation of the word wife made it all too obvious. He saw the red of your ears and knew you’d lean more towards him than you would to Thomas.

He was manipulative. He told people what they wanted to hear, in order to get what he desired most. It was a trait he genetically learned from his mother. You didn’t get to see Thomas remove Lizzie’s hand from his leg, and you also didn’t pay attention to when he slid away from her.

James walked back and forth from behind the bar. Giving rounds of drinks to those seated in the booths and at the tables. He slid behind you to refill glasses. “Like I said Y/N,” You looked up so he could have your attention. You wanted to leave. Start your shift over in the morning. “You’re too real of a prize for a man like Tommy to handle,” His gaze draped down your figure. “Don’t limit yourself to just him,” This was too much for you. “How about I limit myself to nobody? Hm?” You pushed with a false smile.

Who did he think he was? Dropping a bomb like that just so he could glue your pieces together. He wanted you for himself. You wouldn’t take any part of it. He picked up his mug, “That’d be a shame love, I know many men including myself don’t get to stare at a beauty such as yours,” Now you wanted to swing.

“Many men including yourself?” He didn’t seem to be a man. More-so a boy playing dress up in his fathers clothes. “I’m not the only woman in Birmingham who doesn’t take shit from people, so look harder. Maybe you’ll find one for yourself that isn’t me.” You had to remove yourself from his end of the bar. You didn’t want your tongue to get you in trouble.

The nerve of these men. You’ve never seen anything like it. Thomas watched the exchange from afar. He was able to see the disdain on Michael’s face as you walked away. That a girl.

Michael regrouped himself. Now he knew first hand what it was like to be in your line of spite. No one has handed him his ass like that in awhile. Women didn’t usually reject him. Thomas and Arthur had told him before that you had no knowledge of their history. Michael walked back to the booth. It would be a shame if he was the one to inform you.

The night went by faster than expected. You helped James put chairs on top of the bar. You swept the dirt from beneath the counter. Lizzie left hours prior. So did John and Arthur. Michael and Thomas stayed in their section. Talking away, and drinking their own supply.

You knew why the place was so grimy. James did a shit job at cleaning. “Here, give me that,” you said taking the mop from him. You washed the old floor, noticing the amount of muck that surfaced in the bucket. He’s married. How long has he been married? Any children? You were sick. Did she know he was this way? He kept popping up in your brain. Didn’t help he was six-feet away from you, either.

Michael watched you mop. Confidence ran through his blood, just like the whiskey. Smoke rolled out from his lips. James walked over to their table and laid his tip money out. You stopped to peer over. You four were the only ones in the bar.

Thomas sorted through it, half cigarette pressed between his lips. He tucked some money into his suit pocket, and gave the rest back to James. “I wanna see the books tomorrow evening.” James nodded in response. “Make sure we’re not being stiffed,” Thomas sighed. You finished your mediocre job of mopping, and set everything back in place.

Your back was killing you. Did he expect you to put your money down on the table? James looked at you, suggesting you do the same. “You can leave James,” Thomas politely dismissed. “Goodnight Mr. Shelby,” he said leaving through the doors.

“I’m sure James told you about-” “About my money, yes. He did,” You said with more of an attitude than usual. You took your money out of your dress and handed it to him. You didn’t want to put up a fight. “I’m sorry, is there a problem?” Thomas lowly threatened with authority. “No.” You bit your lip and looked at the floor. Asshole. Bastard.

“Hold up that pretty face of yours,” Michael remarked. “Hate to see ya’ look so glum,” You shook your head. Don’t respond. Thomas handed you back your money. He disregarded his cousins remark. You didn’t care if it was a rude gesture or not, you counted your money in front of him.

“You took more than twenty five percent,” You met his eyes. “I’ll take however much I want,” he quipped instantly. His expression was daring. He wanted you to snap back at him. He wanted you to give his cousin a show of the renounced mouth you have to display. Michael watched the interaction with amusement. This bar brought out the worst in you. Whether you were drunk, or not.

“I understand, probably have to buy your wife another flashy dress-” Oh you’ve fuckin’ done it now. “Excuse me?” Thomas tilted his head. He looked over to Michael. He was the only one who spoke to you during your shift. Thomas was sure of it. His eyes never left you for long. Michael was the one who spoke about his marriage. “Nothing,” You knew you fucked up.

“No, if you can say it once, I’m sure you can say it again.” His voice dropped an octave and he threatened to stand up. You couldn’t read his expression. “I insinuated, that you would use the majority of my tip money,” you paused “to buy your wife elegant dresses.” Poor Alfie might get dragged out of the house to confirm your body. You dug your grave, now step in.

He laughed low and hard. “Hm.. I guess I will then.” You were in unsafe territory. You knew that. “What do you say Michael? Think�� Lizzie needs new dresses?” Now he was taunting you. All you could think of was the food Alfie had waiting for you at home. You didn’t want this. You didn’t need this.

Michael shrugged, “I think she has plenty.” He remarked. “Maybe spend the money on Y/N,” He suggested as if you weren’t there. Assholes. Both of them.

Thomas didn’t feel the need to clarify what his relationship with Lizzie was. They weren’t necessarily together, but by law they were married. You didn’t need to know that. He found it nice to see your annoyance over it. Showed that you cared. Showed that you had a jealous bone in your body. He watched your face and saw the hurt lying underneath it. He pursed his lips. “Here,” he spoke softly and handed you back the rest of your money. You took it, feeling his pity weigh on you. “I have my own money to buy my wife dresses. I don’t need yours.”

You couldn’t muster up a sentence. You were embarrassed, annoyed, and felt like a fool. You nodded with the anger still bubbling inside you. Let it go. “Can I go home now.” You said looking at the floor. He didn’t dismiss you so easily. He watched you stand there. Basking in embarrassment. His eyes moved over you. He hated the pang you put in his chest. “Yeah, I’ll take you home..” His voice spoke soothingly. “Arthur brought the car.” He stood up. You knew better to interject. You could feel the routine beginning to form. Michael rose up as well. You were all going to pack in.

Tommy escorted you out, with Michael close behind. You wanted to rip his hand from you, but you knew he was simply being a gentleman at this point. Or was he? Was he trying to taunt you? Push it more? Michael threw his cigarette to the floor. His foot aligned and put out the ember. “Not good to do that, birds will eat it,” you chastised Michael. He shook his head. “That’s their fuckin’ problem. Not mine.” So much for compassion.

Thomas opened your door. You wanted nothing to do with him. Michael went into the back seat. Alfie use to drive you around. He was the only person in your life with enough money to afford one. He’d take days off of work to drive around with you. He knew how much you loved it.

The drive to your house was quicker than the walk. You rubbed your jaw in anticipation of laying in your bed. He lead you on. He made you think you were enough for him. You wanted to get over it. You caught yourself looking at his side profile. A sick part of you wanted to kiss him. But the stronger part of you wanted to jump out of the moving car.

Thomas pulled in front of your house. You saw a light shining from the window. Alfie probably forgot to turn the bulb off. “Michael move to my seat,” Thomas said getting out of the car. Michael followed his orders and watched as Tommy opened the passenger door for you. “Goodnight Y/N,” Michael called out. It made you uneasy. “Goodnight Michael..” The drop from the car to the pavement was more than what you bargained. Thomas was there to help you out of the car.

His hands burned you wherever they landed. The small of your back, behind your arm, anywhere. He wanted you, but you knew he couldn’t have you. You both walked up to your doorstep. “I’d appreciate it if,” spit it out “If you didn’t lead me on.” You finished. Thomas watched you speak. Intrigue dancing across his face. He wasn’t going to argue, or fight. “I’m not leading you on,” His words cut the air.

Did you misread everything? Was he an overly friendly person? If you knew better, you’d understand that Thomas Shelby was nothing of the sorts. What he meant was, ‘I’m not leading you on, this is all real.�� Yet what you took it as, was ‘I don’t know what would give you the impression I feel that way.’

You swallowed the knot in your throat. Silence settled over the both of you. “Friends?” Your voice grew timid. You weren’t afraid of him, but you knew to not push it. He gave you one of his small, rare smiles. He never considered himself to have many friends. He only had family, and enemies. You were a nice mediator. “Friends,” he nodded with the word feeling foreign on his tongue.

You took a step back and unlocked your door. “Goodnight Tommy,” God he felt his heart bounce. You haven’t called him that before. He wanted to reach out and pulled you into him. Move his lips against yours and-

“Goodnight Y/N,” he whispered back. He rubbed his lower lip with his thumb. “I’ll see you tomorrow at 9, yeah?” He suggested as you opened your door. “Sure thing,” you nodded, assuming it was for work. Getting to the pub on time wouldn’t be a hassle. You were use to being at the tailor shop by 8.

“I’ll pick you up then,” he said turning on his heels to walk down your front-steps. “It’s a date,” He called out. The words smacked you as you shut the door.

Friends don’t go on dates. He wanted to change that. You felt a weight lifted from your shoulders. You rubbed your face with confusion, but more than anything, exhaustion. Alfie was asleep on the couch. A bowl of pasta on the floor. You didn’t get to eat dinner with him. You made your way inside of the house and peered as he snored. You grabbed the blanket draped off the end of the sofa, and pulled it over him. He was always a heavy sleeper.

What would you wear? What did he fucking want from you? You figured it best to just sleep this off. Put up with it in the morning. A small part of you didn’t want to give in to the notion that he felt something towards you. Yet, you couldn’t choke down the small amount of excitement emanating from your chest.

There was an inconvenience though. A bump in the road. It was a shame that Michael had other plans in mind for you. Obviously he didn’t want to see you waste away over Tommy. You have so much potential, so much charisma. Why would he watch Thomas ruin you, when instead, he could have you for himself?

This was only the beginning of your devious interactions with Michael Grey. The worst part of it all, was that he now knew, where you lived.

@captivatedbycillianmurphy @amirahiddleston @kac-peakyblinders @urbansaint @parochialism @hereticpriest @eternallyvenus @csigeoblue @mortalflower @a-dorky-book-keeper @stressedandbandobessed7771 @patdsinner33 @1heartstillbeating1

#thomas shelby x reader #michael grey x reader #peaky blinder imagine #Peaky Blinders #peaky blinders fanfic #thomas shelby x y/n #John Shelby #Arthur Shelby #polly grey

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mbti-notes · 5 years ago

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I am privileged AF (young, no debt, STEM degree, white, born male) and yet I don't want to do anything with my life, I can't even get up from my bed to eat. I have so many possibilities but I don't have any passion, any craving, I don't even feel alive anymore. Everything is a pain in the ass, or I just don't give a fuck. How can I care about my life? Care about anything really? I know I do care but somehow really don't? I feel erased from existence, like it's not me at all. What shoud I do?

You don’t get to choose the circumstances that you’re born into, which is why we often use the phrase “accident of birth”. Whether you’re born into poverty or privilege is of little consequence in terms of “identity” because things that you can’t control should not define who you are. However, people run into problems when they start to believe that accidents of birth define their personal identity, e.g., believing that being born into poverty means that one automatically deserves lesser treatment, believing that being born into privilege means that one automatically deserves better treatment, or believing that genetic heritage or arbitrary achievements make you superior to others. You seem to indicate that you don’t subscribe to these problematic beliefs. Yet you still unwittingly link your privilege to your identity, otherwise you wouldn’t mention it as though you feel guilty for it, otherwise you wouldn’t imply that privilege “should” be bringing you a happy existence.

One good thing that has come out of Western culture is the idea of individuality, i.e., that you are more than the sum of your environmental influences. It is a valuable idea because it facilitates human progress by granting people the freedom to discover their gifts and make unique and creative contributions, in other words, it is a way to ensure that everyone has a role to play in society even when accidents of birth hold them back. However, individuality is a relatively new concept in human history, and I would argue that human beings still do not understand it because most of their attempts to express it are immature and rooted in irrational fears. Individuality states that, no matter your circumstances, you get to choose your attitude, you get to choose how to express yourself and respond to situations, and you get to choose how to make the best use of any gifts and resources you’ve been granted. Have you ever read Viktor Frankl’s Man’s Search for Meaning, which includes his reflections on surviving the holocaust? I’d recommend it to anyone who questions the meaning of their life. Why is it that people living in the same circumstances react so differently? E.g. Some choose surrender, some choose death, some choose to fight, some choose brutality, some choose integrity. To make a “choice” means that there is an agent doing the choosing. To possess a sense of agency and express agency requires individuality. You cannot make real choices when there is no real “you” there to deliberate and decide. But when you don’t know how to decide for yourself, others are more than happy to step in and use you.

You mention that you “feel erased from existence”. What this indicates is that you have no sense of individuality. When you say that you “don’t care about anything”, what you’re really saying is that you don’t care about yourself. There is no “you” to care about, is there? To discover who you really are is called the process of self-actualization. Up until now, you haven’t done anything significant to discover who you really are, what you really need in life, and where your individual purpose lies, have you? Or, if you have, you haven’t gotten very far? One of the downsides of privilege (such as being male in a male-dominated society or being heterosexual in a heteronormative society) is low self-awareness, because you are rarely prompted to question your social role, you are rarely urged to reflect on whether you use your privilege wisely, and you are rarely forced into proving that you deserve your position of relative power. In other words, being an “insider” means that you naturally fit into the order of things and never have to think outside that small box. One reason that the privileged fight so hard to maintain the status quo is because allowing “outsiders” to speak is psychologically threatening, as it forces the insiders to reflect on who they are and whether they really deserve to have more than the people they label “outsiders”.

Privilege aside, many people suffer from no individuality because they are only extrinsically motivated, i.e., they have only lived their life by superficial external standards for the sake of garnering superficial external rewards/privileges, without ever reflecting more deeply on their life direction, much like an automaton executing someone else’s program. They are usually stuck at stages 1-2 ego development. I’ll give you an oversimplified example of extrinsic vs intrinsic motivation: Which child do you think continues to clean their room when the parent stops paying out money? The child who only cleans their room to get a monetary reward (blindly following the parent’s programming), or the child who feels strong inner pride in maintaining cleanliness (personal choice)?

Self-actualization is hard work, it is a personal choice, and you choose it because you understand the value of your life, the value of your time, the value of your gifts, and you want to make the most of them. Many people don’t choose self-actualization because they are afraid of failing, they are afraid of taking full responsibility for each and every decision, and ignorance/complacency is the path of least resistance. However, where does rejecting self-actualization lead you other than apathy or indifference, since there is no “you” to care about and, therefore, no “you” to motivate healthy self-care and self-developing behavior? It’s not that you don’t have a self, it’s that you don’t honor it and listen to it. If there were no self, you wouldn’t feel bad about being apathetic. The definition of apathy is “no interest”, yet that’s not really possible, because you are clearly interested enough to know it’s a problem and want to solve it. How long do you have to be stuck in apathy before you can’t bear the emptiness of it anymore, because it slowly morphs into deep-seated existential pain?

Nobody can make you care when you don’t. Humans are built to care. Care emanates from within, from “the heart”, but you speak as though yours is missing. One of the nice things about being human is that we all have a voice within that guides us and informs us about how to live life well - it is the same voice that prompts you to reach out for help when you’re hurt or lost - that voice is the true capital S “Self” that is always there whether you are aware of it or not. Some might prefer to call it “soul” or “spirit” instead. In any case, it cries out to live life, and it despairs when you reject life. Many people are discouraged from listening to that inner voice because they have been punished for it in childhood, or they feel that they don’t deserve a life of their own, or they are afraid of what might happen when they finally stop and listen.

Therefore, you don’t sit around and wait for something to “make you care” because, once again, you’d trap yourself in the cycle of chasing superficial external rewards; rather, you make a personal choice to care because 1) it is the best way to make good use of your life, and 2) you understand that not caring leads you into emptiness and “death” as you reject your own spirit. Whether you choose to care is nobody else’s concern because we should respect your freedom to live as you see fit, but it should be YOUR concern because it is directly related to who you are and the quality of your life. If you choose not caring, then you choose to be a nobody to no one, to have no influence, to make no impact, thus, to have no real existence - you single-handedly erase yourself from existence. You say you “feel erased”, which indicates that you suffer from passivity or even victim mentality, as though someone has cruelly inflicted this state upon you. Nobody can develop your individuality for you. Without it, you won’t realize that you are always free to choose how to be. At any point, you can choose to take full responsibility for how you live every second of your life rather than twiddling your thumbs or living in fear.

One way to look at privilege is that it grants you economic power and social capital that you didn’t earn for yourself. When you don’t properly earn something, you might develop an irrational fear of losing it, you are much less likely to appreciate it, and you are far more likely to take its positive aspects for granted. And when you no longer see the positive, what are you left with if not just the negative (or the “pain in the asses” as you put it)? It’s hard to appreciate privilege when you don’t really understand what it means to live without it or how hard some people work to obtain it (and perhaps still fail to). Many privileged parents actually damage their child’s psychological development by never allowing them to face any real challenges in life (sheltering them), by telling them that privilege is their birthright, by telling them they “should” be happy for an easy life, or that winning the genetic lottery is what makes them “special”. Many people believe that having all of their physical and material desires taken care of is the road to happiness, but it isn’t. There’s a reason we use different words to describe concepts like “body”, “mind”, and “spirit” or “soul”. Feeding the body isn’t the same as nourishing your soul.

Fulfillment comes from the arduous process of learning how to live your best life, which includes taking the initiative to confront your life’s challenges, problems, and obstacles as well as succeeding or failing by your own hand. If you allow privilege to shield you from proper hard work, then you rob yourself of the chance to learn about who you really are and what you’re really made of. When you define yourself with empty markers of success, like accidents of birth or unearned privilege, you don’t develop a personal identity and then “my life” remains a meaningless concept. Have you ever read the story of the Buddha, a man raised as royalty in the lap of luxury but then walked away from privilege because disillusionment prompted him to explore the true meaning of life? He listened to the voice within, found something that worked for him, and that is what each of us needs to do. We each need to set out on our own journey of self-actualization, to find our true individuality, to live to our unique potential. Privilege can be a cage as much as a blessing. Whatever your circumstances, a true individual would never accept a caged life, no matter how gilded the cage, because it means giving up the freedom for self-exploration.

You care about life when your individuality and becoming a person of substance matters to you (intrinsic motivation) a lot more than chasing empty/fleeting rewards (extrinsic motivation). To be an individual means that you are your own savior first, so you don’t sit around waiting for one. Unless you’re brave enough to break free of your “automaton” life, nothing will really change, will it? It’s not your fault that you were born into privilege or granted privilege by society, but it is your fault if you keep choosing to hide behind it to the point that you never connect with anything, never recognize your potential, never grow, and never become anything - think of it as self-violence. It’s not about feeling guilty for squandering what you have, it’s about reflecting seriously on why you would ever choose the self-inflicted pain of living a spiritually dead life.

#self actualization #individuality #intrinsic motivation #extrinsic motivation #meaning of life #apathy #privilege #happiness #fulfillment #self violence #individuation #development #spirituality #ask

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idairsauthor · 5 years ago

Text

This Fcking Impeachment: Episode 3, Ambassados and Ambassadon’ts

PLAIDDER: Good morning and welcome to the most imaginary of the Sunday morning talk shows, This Fcking Impeachment! With me in the studio is...uh...

CONN: I’m sorry, I meant to tidy up before you arrived, but I got sidetracked by the--

PLAIDDER: Conn...since our last episode...have you been...living here?

CONN: I cannot deny it.

PLAIDDER: Conn--

CONN: There’s been fnaa going down EVERY DAY! I just wanted to be READY!

PLAIDDER: Well, I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to get back to the studio, there’s a lot going on out there and I find all of this exhausting. But I did want to...

CONN: It’s all right to light candles in here, isn’t it? I mean, the whole place is imaginary...

PLAIDDER: Is that...have you built a shrine to former US ambassador to Ukraine Marie Yovanovitch?

CONN: I might have.

PLAIDDER: Conn...you’re taking this all very seriously. I think maybe you need a break. Look, Mrs. P is reading Redemption again, why don’t you just go back to your embassy and hang out in the earlier chapters for a while?

CONN: Oh, sure. I’ll just go back to my cozy little embassy and my ugly yellow sweaters and my tea and my friendly banter with Spindern, shall I?

PLAIDDER: I guess...I mean I guess this version of you can’t forget...

CONN: No, I cannot. And so...I mean it was bad enough for me dealing with a shadow foreign policy being promulgated in secret by my one subordinate. This poor Marie ni hOabhanobhaitch was being suborned from above and around as well as below. You can’t fire someone who doesn’t work for you.

PLAIDDER: Especially when you don’t actually know what they’re doing.

CONN: It makes my blood boil. Being an ambassador is thurking hard.

PLAIDDER: I know. I mean, I honestly think that for the duration of Redemption you were the hardest working man on the island.

CONN: Since nobody works harder than Aine.

PLAIDDER: Indeed not. I want you to know I’m even more proud of you now than I was before, now that I’m watching this mess unfold. You were a really good ambassador.

CONN: Since you say it.

PLAIDDER: You WERE. It’s true you did some things that weren’t, strictly speaking, entirely above board or explicitly authorized...

CONN: That’s part of the job. That’s why they have a human doing this job instead of just negotiating everything via email. You’re there, you’re on the ground, you know more than your superiors do. I knew what the Seat’s goals were when they sent me, and I worked to accomplish them. And I didn’t tell them 100% of how I was doing that, because it wouldn’t have helped anyone for them to know. There’s always stuff that happens in back rooms, off the record. That’s not what’s horrifying about all this.

PLAIDDER: So speaking as an ambassador who was not corrupt, could you explain for our non-ambassador readers some of these ambassa-dos and ambassa-don’ts?

CONN: All right: first of all, DO have a clear idea of what your diplomatic mission is and what your goals are. And then DON’T do things that will undermine those goals.

PLAIDDER: So, for instance, Marie Yovanovitch’s diplomatic mission...

CONN: Well, here’s what it says on the website of the US Embassy in Ukraine:

“The United States established diplomatic relations with Ukraine in 1991, following its independence from the Soviet Union. The United States attaches great importance to the success of Ukraine’s transition to a modern democratic state with a flourishing market economy. U.S. policy is centered on realizing and strengthening a democratic, prosperous, and secure Ukraine more closely integrated into Europe and Euro-Atlantic structures.”

Put in slightly less...

PLAIDDER: Diplomatic?

CONN:...obscure language, the goal of the official diplomatic mission to the Ukraine was to stop Russia from taking the place over and thus rebuilding the former Soviet empire under new management. To keep Ukraine an ally of the US instead of a Russian puppet. Basic geopolitics. I mean you could argue about the wisdom of all that but that’s Congress’s job. As the ambassador, it’s not your job to set the goals; it’s your job to pursue them.

PLAIDDER: Right.

CONN: But here’s the thing. Marie Yovanovitch was carrying out the official mission. Nobody told her that there was a completely different unofficial mission to Ukraine being led by your Mr. Giuliani. That information was shared, evidently, only with this Kurt Volker and this Bill Taylor and this Gordon Sundland. And if you look at this group of shadow diplomats you realize they all have one thing in common--

PLAIDDER: They’re all men.

CONN: All right, two things. One, they’re all men; two, none of them are ambassadors.

PLAIDDER: Well, I mean...they’re diplomats, aren’t they?

CONN: Yes. But any diplomatic mission to another nation is led by the ambassador. All these other people--the envoys, the charges d’affaires--the ambassador outranks them. They take their orders from the ambassador. At least they’re supposed to.

PLAIDDER: So who did they put in as ambassador to the Ukraine after they fired Yovanovitch?

CONN: Nobody.

PLAIDDER: What?

CONN: Nobody. There is no ambassador at that embassy now. It is being run by William Taylor, the charge d’affaires. Better known to you as the man who texted Gordon Sundland telling him he thought it was crazy to hold up security aid over help with a political campaign.

PLAIDDER: Isn’t Gordon Sondland an ambassador?

CONN: He’s your ambassador to the European Union. He was never the ambassador to the Ukraine. He shouldn’t have been doing ANY of this.

PLAIDDER: But I thought Kurt Volker--

CONN: Kurt Volker was an envoy. A part-time, UNPAID envoy.

PLAIDDER: That’s weird.

CONN: ALL OF THIS IS WEIRD! But that’s what happens when the REAL mission is something that can’t be acknowledged in public. The REAL mission, led by the REAL ambassador, your Mr. Giuliani, appears to have been to use the power and the purse of the United States to force the new president of Ukraine to fabricate evidence that would shore up a clutch of baseless conspiracy theories which would then allow your President to tilt the next election in his favor by smearing, not only his most likely political opponent, but all of the government agencies who provided the evidence of Russia’s interference in your last presidential election.

PLAIDDER: And you can’t put that on the website.

CONN: No you cannot. You cannot be seen to be pursuing those goals at all, because they are THOROUGHLY CORRUPT. They do not advance ANY foreign policy objective. They only benefit one man, viz., your president. That’s what corruption is. When you just say, thurk it, I don’t care about the thurking mission any more, I don’t care about my thurking country, from now on all I care about is me.

PLAIDDER: So they had their official ambassador pursuing the official mission, and then they had their corrupt mission...and I guess really this whole house of cards started falling when they decided that the official mission was getting in the way of the corrupt mission.

CONN: Exactly.

PLAIDDER: Thanks for explaining that.

CONN: You’re welcome. Now. Can you explain something to me?

PLAIDDER: I will attempt it.

CONN: Why, of all the people who could have been chosen to lead this important though entirely corrupt diplomatic mission, did your president choose Mr. Giuliani?

PLAIDDER: *sigh*

CONN: Oh dear. This is going to take a while, isn’t it.

PLAIDDER: So it’s like this. Rudy Giuliani was the mayor of New York City in September of 2001. When the Twin Towers were destroyed on September 11, Giuliani became an American hero. And to some extent, legitimately. You can’t imagine the kind of shock it was. We hadn’t had an attack on US soil since Pearl Harbor in 1941. Nobody had ever imagined this, nobody had ever planned for it. Our President at the time--who is now, regrettably, only the SECOND worst president of the past half-century--utterly failed this test. He froze like a deer in the headlights, then disappeared from public view. Rudy Giuliani was out there in the spotlight doing his job, leading his city through something no mayor of New York had ever had to deal with. Even some New Yorkers who hated him for other reasons at least felt reassured that he was on the case and would get them through this.

CONN: I’m very surprised to hear it.

PLAIDDER: Of course you are. Because I don’t know what happened, but at some point in the past eighteen years Rudy Giuliani became a decomposing husk within which the remnants of his former self have turned into a festering ball of insanity and corruption. He and Buttercup go back a ways because they were both big men in New York in the 1980s and they got to be friends. So Giuliani was one of the relatively few big-name Republicans willing to stump for him in 2016, before anyone believed he would be elected. And during that campaign, Giuliani just...abased himself. I mean Buttercup went low, he went lower. He just...I mean...he crawled, he toadied, he literally slavered. It was disgusting. But it earned him Buttercup’s favor. And I do not know why--I do not know why, Conn--these men who abase themselves before Buttercup seem to become consumed by some passion that I cannot call love but which seems to have some of its features, including infatuation and recklessness and a willingness to sacrifice one’s own good for the good of the beloved. I mean I’ve never seen anything like--

PLAIDDER:

CONN: Friend, are you all right?

PLAIDDER: Sorry, I’m just realizing that I have in fact seen this before.

CONN: Where?

PLAIDDER: This is how all of Lythril’s minions feel about her. They can’t really love her because she would never return it. And they know she will erase them if they ever displease her. And yet they fawn on her and obsess over her and try to outdo each other in their self-abasement and devotion to someone who definitely will never see them as equals, or even really as human. They do not protect themselves from her. They just render themselves up to her entirely, and she destroys them, and they just...love it.

CONN: It’s simple enough, friend.

PLAIDDER: Really?

CONN: They worship her power. They love power and they know that she wields a kind of pure, irresistible, unadulterated power that they can’t handle. They can never HAVE it; but they want to be as near to it as they can get.

PLAIDDER: Maybe that’s it. Buttercup is their dark user, and they’re the minions.

CONN: Well this is why I printed out this photo of Marie Yovanovitch. She’s not a minion. She knows what corruption is and she decided to fight it instead of serving it. We diplomats, you know, we can’t be shriias. But we have our own code. We have our own bright and dark. You know, with maybe more gray area in there than you would be happy about. But still. In all this, you find the light where you can. And why not set it up here where everyone can see it?

PLAIDDER: All right, Conn. But please. I beg of you. Help me clean up the remains of your last twelve Nauchtian breakfast stacks and then let’s go for a walk or something, all right?

CONN: All right.

PLAIDDER: The next episode is going to happen soon enough, I’m pretty sure.

#the current catastrophe #this fcking impeachment #conn mac emer

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unproduciblesmackdown · 5 years ago

Note

40, 47, 59, 62, 76

lmao hell yeah thanks for All this support i love it!! quastions

40. weirdest thing to ever happen at your school?

really idk i feel like even our schools’s Antics were pretty par for the course and i was just sitting in the corner reading the whole time basically......trying to think if anything wild happened in college but even then it was p similar. well you know what, whatever donors covered the majority of the cost of the school’s black box theater being renovated apparently Stipulated that every other year a rodgers and hammerstein production be put on. absolute freaks. my roommate/friend and their then-boyfriend, the one mormon i have Knowingly Known in my life, were in pirates of penzance (sic?) together. hilarious

47. favorite type of cheese?

i like cheddar and like, parmesan, smoked gouda.....let’s get that shit Sharp!!! and hard lmao

59. if you were a video game character, what would your catchphrase be?

idk i’d be like an npc just doing their weird thing on their own. i’ve never played pokemons unless you count pokemons Go but i think about the famed “i like shorts they’re comfy and easy to wear” npc kid. like, yeah. i feel the same. and would say similar bullshit nobody asked about

62. seven characters you relate to?

oh god.........recognizing the self through the relatable characters :|

well let’s just talk about the wrol roles right off b/c the characters that Most occupy my gay thoughts (which is to say: my general thoughts) will inevitably get priority when it comes to Remembering things

1) whom among us doesn’t relate to jared kleinman........will roland emerging from relative obscurity and coming for our entire fucking lives like the goddamn legend he is. it’s tough b/c it’s like, oh well alana is relatable too, so is evan unfortunately sorry evan, and in ways i might ~usually act~ like one of those two more than jared but. no. it is Jared who wins the relatability contest, and we all get to be beautifully haunted by it forever

2) leaning hard into winston even with the few glimpses of him b/c somehow will Cannot play an allistic cishet. and this is even More of a case where maybe i don’t much have winston’s demeanor.......even without winston being a beacon of confidence, he has more confidence lmao. and he has that ability to just Be Himself in a situation which, i wish i had that moxie lmao. i am a lot more [usually trying to be accommodating wayyyy harder than i should], booo......even though he’s clearly not great at conflict considering how it doesn’t take Too much to put him out, it’d be pretty impossible for me to be all “called them hacks and lame” or carry out a very irritated monologue in front of four people in the first place lmao. but who knows. and it’s more in the details of like, oh no winston’s the odd one out even though he hasn’t really Done Anything, but we all ~understand~ why he Deserves it.........his expectation / treating it basically as Fact that he will disappoint people.......the [weird] [offputting] behaviors and his way of speaking in What he Says and How He Says It seeming wrong to people.......like it’s only 15-ish min of content that we have here and we don’t have the least info about will’s own thoughts on the character but it’s like. how is this such an iconic Gay Autistic Quant b/c these vibes are so rare. and i appreciate that he can be ~difficult~ lmao. same with jared though i didn’t mention it. i can be difficult!! love it for us...

3) briony atkins from murder of bindy mackenzie as a character who Does act more like how i Usually Act Like lmao.....god we’re only on three i forgot there was seven of these. and yet i know there’s probably at least 2 dozen characters who could make this list and i just won’t think of most of them unless directly reminded......but anyways yeah i mean in person i mostly do Not want attention unless i feel comfortable enough / in my element or whatever. especially if it’d be some situation like “sitting in a group of randos” lol. i mean it depends b/c i also can sometimes be ~on~ in terms of Masking and trying to be like Haha I’m Social I’m Regular and i def engage in Nervous Chatter sometimes, but like, very often it’s like god don’t talk to me and i don’t want to talk either.....and then yeah people Will be surprised that like, idk, i’m opinionated as shit and idk that i Enjoy Things / Have Thoughts And Feelings coz the assumption i guess is that you must simply have nothing to say. so the dismissal of this person who seemingly has nothing to contribute and must be Boring rings true lmfao.....but then of course it’s also important that her personality Under that is the one getting mistaken for emily’s lol cuz yeah At Heart i am sure of that dramatic / intense / excitable type Sometimes. but it takes some excavation before i am like “oh i can engage in my actual self” and like weeks and months to get comfortable w/ people and i’m always suspicious that anyone actually would enjoy it and i’m not too much......i am a motormouth actually and have something to say about any and everything and like to Have Fun Here but like. idk i come off as boring and can be Notably Quiet lmao

4) oscar martinez from the office is weirdly [Haha Same] sometimes lmfao. sort of keeps to himself but also has to pipe up with Opinions and Pedantry and the kind of Drama of a restrained theatre gay. some deleted scene from an episode where during an interview clip of Jimothy in a theater lobby and you have oscar call from across the group in that [wearied Ugh God] way of ‘jim, they’re remaking ___’ while jim just kind of gives a cursory “wow gosh” or whatever and like, i sure don’t have lots of Theatre Opinions but that “oh jeez i have a Take on this and have to share it with someone” vibe is like hahaha yeah.....it’s funny in the “the gang goes to the ice rink for a third of the ep” bit where you just catch oscar doing [ice skating turn] with some solemn intensity.......the “here’s a question nobody’s asking: is this worth it” quote.........way at the end where there’s a whole deal with one of the indoor plants and he’s like “why is it a He” @ the collective gendering of the houseplant lmfao.......i love the one thing where he and pam and uhh toby right? have the Finer Things book club or whatever and jim wants to join just like ~ironically~ and pam has to tell him that oscar doesn’t want him to join b/c he’s not going to take it seriously and use it as a Jokes Vehicle. and then you get the scene at the end where jim Is basically doing that and they’re just like taking it out of him and oscar’s all very seriously like “did you get it all out of your system” lmfao like yeah, earnest members only lmao.....the thing where he gets mad at angela’s like Jazz Musician Posed Babies posters all “it’s kitsch it Destroys art” lmaoooo and in a totally different season all “this is the problem with debate” over the completely inconsequential “is [whichever actress, i forget] Hot” “”””debate””””.......the whole tendency to get involved and always have a take to get across.....opinionated-sometimes-to-the-point-of-petty central. also that he’s the canon gay, are there even any others? anyways and as the us office’s spiritual successor i’ll add on to this by uh what’s the name of billy eichner’s character on parks and rec? it’s craig right. that Self-Powered Intensity is very #me as well.

5) augh god........im like lmfao shit who represents my Hater Club side. hmmm. oh no wait you know what. totally different but i love Prof Beatrice Hotchkiss in the trt nancy drew pc game. she’s holed up in her room writing all the time and just is weird when you try to talk to her all like no i won’t open the door, bring me food, do this Research, bring me my Ski Boots i guess......and then when you do meet her it’s all at like post-midnight in the lounge and she’s all like, encouraging you as a Night Owl and your investigative curiosity and all and i’m like oh word yeah being up in the dead of night is the shit. she’s just weird and passionate and this is another character i might not Act hardly at all like but who i vibe with lmfao. hotchkiss was the supportive adult in my life

6) remembering how hotchkiss is a historian made me think of academia which made me think of like, once again with “these vibes are So So Rare” i really ought to put the wrol role of Nato on the list cuz like. that essential representation of “gets gr8 grades but isn’t really ~academic~ / doesn’t care about that and really just cares about Hanging W Friends and [real specific interests]” is like wow damn that’s the Mood. coz like to an extent i can always Relate to the ~overachiever~ types a la the [nerd character gets all-A’s and other nerd shit] deal, but there’s eventually the issue of like.....those characters like bindy mackenzies and alana becks Care about their achievements (not exclusively as some ppl would have it 9_9) and are Studious whereas i always hated school and was a godawful student in terms of Habits and always got good grades b/c the devil was with me or something and like people will think i must have tried real hard and dedicated myself to Academics and stuff and it’s like.........no................not at all hardly, sure i did my hw every night but at like 11:29 pm or studied for a midterm at lunch right before the class lol or flipped through a lil bit of the sat study guide the night prior.........the “low-effort dumbass who Academically Excels Anyhow” representation is so crucial like!! i run into a wall when it’s the Good Grades nerd character who is real studious and focused and stuff like. couldn’t be me. meanwhile the “naturally weird + probably some ‘deliberate’ weirdness” and “likes animals” and “most likely to just wanna Roll With It” and “shitty focus lol” and “non sequiturs” and “without [activity] i do nothing” is all like....ahahahohoho..........nato rly got to make this list. and honorable mention for Wrol Jeremy. again: whom doesn’t relate!!!!!!!!

7) damnit i know there’s So many answers to [characters i relate to] and whom cover like, more particular Facets here but i’m struggling lmao. Uh. like i’m like, who’s the Hot Mess / continually evolving disaster characters i vibe with......who’s the peak despresso detached Haters rep......who embodies the solo production lifestyle........dammit you know what lol i tend to Feel for like, the background ~nobodies~ who might just get like totally destroyed in some movie with life or death stakes just to like, show how much danger our heroes / Important Complex Protags are. same w/ jeremy not feeling like the Hero / the one who the story’s about / the cool guy / player 1 / etc etc etc i’m like oo i’d be the npc who doesn’t really do anything, i’d be the rando getting blown away in the background of someone else’s story. on a totally different note another shoutout / honorable mention to wybie from the coraline lmfao one of the best characters invented from thin air for an adaptation......tangentially relevant b/c he’s entirely here to support the protag / not his story at all, just here to help and prompt interactions / exposition really.......but love that [weird loner kid who’s best friend is a cat and annoys the other kid and doesn’t Get it and has specific interests and entertains himself and just is doing weird shit around here tf dude lmao killing it] like, #mood. #lifestyle. less dismal to relate to than the bg person who dies......his counterpart who totally dies is somewhat fleshed out / given Investment so it doesnt Really count as [background Nobody who’s really just fodder for “defining the stakes / threat level”] Character Concept

76. what’s your favorite potato food (i.e. tater tots, baked potatoes, fries, chips, etc.)?

latkes maybe......Yummy

#i expect to now just think of like ten dozen Other Characters who would've been great to mention #c'est la vie!!! c'est comme ca!!!! speaking of. thinking of the hc that winston jsut. drops french phrases into his speech sometimes #building on the moi....tbt ur benston fic w quelle horreur.....#nothingunrealistic1

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mrsspidermanmaryjanewatsonparker · 6 years ago

Quote

Its definitely my favourite version of Mary Jane. Who’s changed careers from model and damsel to sassy investigative reporter for the Daily Bugle. A role that gives her more to actually, you know, do and embodies her with a lot of wit and drive. A smart update for a world where the bombshell party girl is no longer the romantic ideal it once was.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PqGs09OiyEQ

Let’s debunk this.

Whenever some dipshit talks about MJ not having enough ‘to do’ specifically in relation to her PS4 career it boils down to this.

MJ didn’t do anything in the comics directly related to Peter’s role as Spider-Man.

Which is asinine because the story of Spider-Man isn’t about Peter being a superhero!

It’s about the life of this guy who HAPPENS to be a superhero and exploring how those two sides of his life impact upon one another.

You know the whole great power/great responsibility thing?

Yeah you can basically translate that more linearly to “This character is about juggling the responsibilities normal people deal with against the responsibility of being a hero’

THAT is the damn point.

For example, literally every Aunt May sceanario from the Steve Ditko run.

Oh no, Aunt May is sick Peter has to get medicine for her. He can earn money as Spider-Man to do that but oh no that means he won’t be home to look after her and he’s so worried about her that it might impact how he fights.

Or.

Oh no, Aunt May is sick Peter has to cut out on this crime in progress to go help her!

I’m not saying Aunt May’s character was handled the best back then by any means. But people did adore how she was used in the JMS run where she was you know...also not directly involved in his superhero life.

Fuck even Alfred isn’t REALLY directly involved in Batman’s life but people still love him.* Same for Ganke Lee in Miles Morales stories.

The book is about Peter’s life not specifically his life as a superhero, but everything.

His job, his friendships, his romantic life, his financial straits, everything.

And they impact upon and get impacted by his life as a hero.

At which point Mary Jane doesn’t need to directly interact with that side of his life because she’s already ‘doing stuff’ by interacting with the Peter Parker side of his life.

Her role works great in a video game because in a video game you aren’t going to play a character who has to study or has to pay the rent or has a mini-game about managing his anxieties and neuroses. Everything revolves and feeds back into what he does in the context of being a superhero which is where you don’t just spend over half the story (like in most Spider-Man yarns) but where you spend the overwhelming majority of the time because that is the whole point.

For many people Peter’s superheroics in the comics isn’t the point or at best it is only half the point.

People often say Spidey has the best supporting cast ever and that’s true but that’s a weird goddam statement to make if you define a good supporting cast member as someone who directly contributes in some way to his role as Spider-Man. Because Flash, Harry, Gwen, MJ, Liz, Aunt May, Betty Brant and everyone who wasn’t Jameson, George Stacy, Jean DeWolff or Felicia didn’t do that!

And yet we were still invested whenever Flash became an alcoholic, or Liz got pregnant, or Harry and MJ’s relationship hit the rocks, or Jameson got engaged or Betty left her husband or whatever.

Why?

Because we cared about these characters because Peter cared about them and we cared about Peter because we were reading it for his LIFE over all not his superhero side of it.

MJ thus would’ve been doing enough by just interacting with Peter via normal life soap opera and human drama. Was it always handled great? No. but the fix for that isn’t giving her something that directly taps into his job as a superhero.

Let’s move on to the rest of the quote.

Being a journalist embodies her with a lot of wit and drive.

Why the fuck does this specific profession innately give people who work that profession these personality traits? That’s not how life works.

More poignantly it presumes that MJ in the comics didn’t have any wit.

And certainly no drive.

And how about that whole ‘bombshell party girl isn’t the romantic ideal it once was’ huh?

Um....what?

First of all a ‘romantic ideal’ is rather subjective. Some people (for the sake of argument let us presume for a moment heterosexual men) want a party girl. Some people would prefer more of a chilled out person. Some guys want a bombshell but other guys might be physically attracted to girls who are more amazonian in their appearance. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.

Second of all, even by modern stereotypical standards (again from a heterosexual male POV) classic Mary Jane is still absolutely within the ‘romantic ideal’.

Third of all MJ was presented as not being the romantic ideal when she was introduced in the 1960s. She was played as a foil for Gwen Stacy with Peter (shallowly as young people are want to do) finding her party girl personality a major turn off.

Fourth of all this statement speaks to the absolute ignorance of the author (and many fans) who seem to weirdly think MJ was a party girl when she debuted and then stayed exactly like that until she married Spider-Man.

She didn’t. Her party girl personality had even been reigned in by the time she began dating Peter in the 1970s.

Fifth of all why the fuck is ‘updating’ MJ from party girl going to naturally land on journalist?

Finally let’s tackle the bullshit model and damsel thing.

This mentality needs to fuck off and die ASAP.

MJ was not placed in a damsel-in-distress role any more frequently than most recurring superhero love interests.

Defining that as her role, as her ‘job’ practically is bullshit, insulting and an erasure of her whole goddam character.

Being a damsel-in-distress isn’t an act of negative penalization upon your character, wherein you can be awesome outside of that instance in the story but it doesn’t matter because you were made into a damsel in distress.

I mean FFS NOBODY treats male characters this way in spite of the uncountable times Robin, Jimmy Olsen, Commissioner Gordon, Harry Osborn, J. Jonah Jameson, Flash Thompson or whoever have been in need of rescue by Superman, Batman or Spider-Man!

I can understand criticising using a female character like that but it’s nevertheless a BAD thing to treat it like it erases and boils down a female character to nothing but that merely because it happened.**

And then there is the modelling thing.

Jesus Christ do I hate the modelling thing.

Not only is MJ’s jobs in wider media NOT as a model, not only was that NOT her first job, not her job for over a decade and never her most noteworthy job...it’s just fucked up.

It dismisses rel life people with that job as shallow or less worthy and it defines a female character specifically through her looks.

And real talk MJ being a model is LESS relevant to her character than Peter being a photographer is. Photography isn’t even one of Peter’s passions, science is, science actually speaks to who he is as a person. Photography is just a means to an end. So being a photographer is not important to who peter is as a character and MJ being a model is even LESS important to her character.

And yet people like define her entire character through that job. I dunno if that’s sexist for reasons I talked about above or messed up because it defines her purely through her job when real people are more than the job they do.*** Either way it’s fucked up.

And as a fan it just grinds my gears because the ONLY reason MJ being a model is talked about as much as it is or appeared as much as it has in the comics is BECAUSE writers and fans keep throwing the term around in relation to MJ.

It’s a shitty self fulfilling prophecy

*And Batman unlike Spider-Man actually does prioritize his costume life over his superhero one.

**And not for nothing the video plays clips from the Raimi movies when talking about her being a damsel in distress (specifically a moment where she was substituting for Gwen Stacy) because of course it does. Because everyone knows judging a comic book character by their comic book versions would be stupid and Dunst MJ is everything comic book MJ was.

***Someone who works as a janitor isn’t less worthy as a person or wholesale defined through that job, they have a life and personality beyond that.

#Spider-Man #Insomniac Spider-Man #mjwatsonedit #mary jane watson #Mary Jane Watson Parker #Peter Parker #MJ Watson #insomniac games #Spider-Man ps4 #Spider-Man Playstation 4

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monkey-network · 7 years ago

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Steven Universe is Anime Garbage (And That’s Okay)

WARNING: This is gonna be a very weebish brain fart. I didn't come into writing it for any purpose, I just decided to write out my general stream of thoughts to see where it took me. This was the result. Thank you, take care out there, and enjoy.

A key to enlightenment is the severance of attachment

Can’t deny it. Steven Universe is a cartoon practically on the boundary with its many fans. Some find it engaging and wonderful, others find it wasted potential and struggling, and others are terrible fans with no sense of control or integrity, like most fandoms really. But I, a fan since its beginnings, wish to make a case that could potentially bring everything and everyone together in somewhat reasonable understanding (a stretch, somewhat). Steven Universe is a trash anime....and it is the best trash out here. Now I’m not saying this because it has an anime look, or that Jasper is a tsundere, or especially...

“Hey it’s a reference to that one anime that’s also very aesthetic™ and sad with lesbians and allegories!”

Nah, I’ll be real with you here. Now we really can’t deny that Steven Universe has its major flaws, not a hard pill to swallow way I see it. Wishy washy in tone, seldom in world building, basic animation, off putting character models, and so forth (though the last point is a malleable nitpick tbh). Furthermore, we can’t deny that the “plot” is up in the air and really not in the mood on coming down with anything truly shaking yet (putting a pin in that). But, I won’t deny that it looks good, some characters are worth my investment, and there is some development to be had in all this, for better or for worse. You could say it’s down the middle, so where am I going with this? Well, I think I found something that may be able to bring this together: Sword Art Online

*imitating Austin Powers* YEAH, BABY!

For those unaware, Sword Art Online is a light novel turned RPG Game turned full series anime about thousands of people getting trapped in a VR game with one seeking to escape by beating the 100 levels of the game. It has action, death, good game feel, wonky gameplay, and fanservice.... I do not and will not recommend this to anyone, nor am I just comparing this to Steven U because both have OP protagonists, a myriad of female characters, and how one character is generally Lars if a better person initially. To repeat, I’m not saying these shows are the same in plot and such. Though the similarities certainly come in their perceptions and reactions.

Also dual wielding

Let me sidetrack a bit and do understand, at the time SAO premiered, otakus, anime fans, and even esports fans were hyped! This was before My Hero Academy blew millions away, before Attack on Titan throttled its theme music onto people, many were stoked and kept up that stokeness for this for quite a bit. This was SAO’s keepsake: Mass Appeal and timing. Then people started seeing the cracks of the show’s true faults, and now we’re at the point where more of the franchise is coming and the fandom is dragging between people that find it sucks or never should’ve been invested in the first place, people that continue to make the lemons into lemonade regardless, and the creeps (you know who they are). Sound familiar?

I mean we could say the same thing for the current Star Wars fandom, but that’s a tad more complicated

But this isn’t enough to say this is trash anime. No, like SAO, there is one thing that can tie everything together to implode into an enveloping infinite wormhole of foolishness and cleverness. One moment that just brought everything together and is gonna put everything together in the end. The definitive proof that...

Rose Quartz was the Origami Killer all along!!

But seriously, this was a twist that certainly cemented itself into being on par in writing with SAO and similar trash series. I mean, from a meta perspective, it’s pretty hilarious that the biggest twist the show presented was mostly considered a joke in the same way people thought The Simpsons could predict the future with the absurdist jokes they made. And really, all the symbolism and foreshadowing from every episode previously doesn’t excuse the blue balls I felt with the recent two seasons. I’m sorry guys, the eye opening revelation can go so far with someone who was only glad something actually came together after so long (even if the episode leading up to it lacked that “special shit”).

But as for Pink Diamond being the real Rose Quartz, the twist admittedly lack that impactful-ness and really shows how they’re twanging a string in the efforts to make you take the story seriously. For one thing, it’s pretty stupid to believe that nobody questioned the abilities the one Rose had compared to a typical quartz, not to mention that it felt pretty convenient that she never lost her form revealing her gem to anyone beside Pearl. Secondly, it kinda bait and switches not just the ideal, but a reasonable idea of Rose Quartz for just being the ambitious dictator turned anti-villain bent on liberating the Earth from her bigger than thou parents and more or less her own armada. Like, “Ha ha, you thought Rose Quartz was an ordinary gem that had to make genuine sacrifices in her efforts to best the higher ups and liberate her kind. But in reality, she had the abilities to win all along and generally did everything for the sake of not being a dictator anymore. MWAHAHAHAAAA” We can examine the complexities behind her motivations all we’d like, but that just feels like rewriting the already stupefying concept to make it sound more sensible.

Funny enough, Rose could’ve definitely working as the Charles Xavier of this series but they never delve into that reasonably valuable concept*

Lastly, it sort of--lack of a better term--irons out the whole show up with Steven being Pink Diamond, if that makes sense. In the back of my mind, I’ve generally lost my suspension of disbelief in believing that a fourteen year old child is not only the reformation of a failed rebel leader, but said failed rebel leader actually being the supposed antagonist and jumpstarting source behind everyone’s frustrations, ambitions, and tragedies. As if Steven wasn’t special enough on the fact that he can revive the dead, like Sword Art Online, it’s already apparent that he’ll generally win in the end due to him being the Special, the Ninetail, the Last Jedi, the Hollow, and the Fullbring all in one. It’s kinda hard getting invested in your story when I can’t care about your protagonists! Maybe he might actually suffer long term consequences, but I don’t have much in the future since it now feels hard to relate to the protagonist, who by the way is the central protagonist meaning no episode can go without his presence apparently.

He’ll enter your dreams if he must

And I’m afraid that Steven Universe has officially sunk to trash tier anime. And frankly, it’s always been anchored to this. I mean with SAO, as much as I saw before quitting, there was plot variety, not plot flips. It is one thing to have your series shift from light villain of the week slice of life to something like Oedipus Rex, but to get this far, nose diving into this belly flop of a reveal, to then ask to be taken with a modicum of seriousness, what? To put so much ambition into your work, that you’re essentially believing your own hype, barely exploring a big handful of your own ideas, until now, trying to make sympathy and reason coincide with the villain(s) instead of making them somewhat real. One could say “Monkey, it’s not about taking on villains, it’s about achieving resolve within the group’s personal struggles.” And while that is a reasonable and pathetic way of saying violence can’t resolve things, it doesn’t bear the fact that the Crystal Gems were essentially fighting villains beforehand while achieving resolve, so why change things up now? Especially when the villains before don’t bear any quirk of their own besides being relative to the plot. Or a plot, since again, it wants to be taken seriously with the “story” it has, but juggles way too many things that it can feel hilariously jarring when the show actually gets somewhere.

And as a character drama, the establishment of its world and idealogies don’t feel as valuable when the importance and passion to them are continuously muddled or dull

And this is the way of trash anime. People shouldn’t have to continuously think of how things could’ve been better, why plotlines and characters don’t mesh well, why it can just feel so contrived. Yeah it’s unfortunate that an SU Critical community exists, and yeah sometimes they deserve scrutiny because some try to make it deeper than it is, but we can’t deny that this all appeared from a vacuum. With criticisms can come a consistent string of logic that some things have turned up wrong, something that the series failed to grasp previously. Like SAO, most Shonen works, and “those” shows that I won’t speak of, this series was and has become a glorified gamble on your interests and the anticipation to see where it lands, how cathartic it’ll be, and what’s to look forward to and look back on.... has somewhat slimmed. While it is most certainly its own thing, it doesn’t bear that evolutionary yet timeless nuance Avatar and Adventure Time has, nor the continually captivating hook the best anime can have with its episodes and characters. This series has gotten stupid...and I say it’s not wrong to think that way.

Anime isn’t that big of a mistake, you guys. Come on.

If there’s anything I learned as one of the smartest idiots around, it’s that stupidity can be enjoyable; trust me, I know. So while I say SU’s anime garbage, I’m not saying it’s the bad kind that kills your mood/investment like the shit I found. it’s the Rocket Raccoon of Cartoon Network (and if you’ve seen Guardians 2 and get where I’m coming from, I love you for it). It’s still enjoyable, for the most part, and I’m not gonna ignore the influence it had on its fans. Hell, Black Panther is a movie I find flawed as fuck, but I and the millions (and the millions) still recognize and appreciate it for what it provided, for black people especially. While it can be predictable, there are some good moments to think over, for better or for worse, like how the Rose Quartz was subtly hinted at throughout the seasons. It’s still competent in some aspects, there are a few characters I still love and, to unpin, things look like they’re finally heating up. It still has that “Fuck yeah” spirit buried underneath, like many anime good and trash. It’s certainly better than Star vs th- Point I’m getting at is that this series sure as hell ain’t bulletproof, but I’ll gladly bandage it up and see it through to the end. Not as some guilty pleasure, but as a series that staggers constantly and consistently but makes up in keeping it compelling (in a way). That’s a quality only the best trash anime achieves, shooting itself in the foot while proudly making that run to the finish line. I’m not just blatantly criticizing it or supporting all the hype it makes, I’m embracing it for going this long with this many bruises, willing to take more hits, all the while never really losing sight of what it set out to do. I’ll still smack it upside the head for the stupid shit it might pull, because I know it can and will, but that smack is delivered with love. And really, is that not a reasonable feeling to have?

Steven U is anime garbage... and I’m fine with that.

#steven universe #su #su critical #su criticism #rose quartz #pink diamond #cartoons #anime #reviews #analysis #long post #Good Stuff #Roy Macintosh #awesome #brain fart #sword art online

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kaaramel · 7 years ago

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Algernon Luc Perreault, Baron of Haunted Dolls

(this is my first time doing this specific character creation dance and i’ve obviously not ever played nobilis so i’m open to critique/workshopping and also truly can’t believe i’ve done this.)

In their mortal existence Luc was a banker, moderately well off, with an almost aggressively mundane life. Since being taken under the metaphorical wing of The Longest Furby, relatively recently, they’ve assumed the responsibility of caring for the bizarre wildlife of her Chancel, the Uncanny Valley; peeled the skin off their own hands; and generally been unimpressed with divine life. Still, they have acquired a certain unflappability; they’re exasperated by new and bizarre events, but rarely actually disturbed, not for long.

Haunted Dolls...

...inspire confusion, fear, and alarm (2)

...resemble living things, but aren’t (2)

...have their actual danger exaggerated (2)

...are collector’s items (1)

Of course I mean this Estate quite broadly, as “any doll-like or stuffed-animal-like object that’s at least a little bit uncanny valley” - taxidermy, figurines, etc. included; and it doesn’t necessarily have anything to do with the ghostly type of haunting, I just needed a pithy summation and I listen to just enough MBMBAM to not let this opportunity go.

Luc has a lot more Persona than Domain, but they do have The Sovereign’s Gift (Lesser Animation of Haunted Dolls) and can therefore bring mundane dolls and toys to life, granting them unsettling, jerky movement. If I understand the rules (which I don’t) the dolls can then use Luc’s Shine to do stuff for their creator’s sake, which makes them actually kind of impressive. Whenever possible, Luc brings the new creature back to the Uncanny Valley and lets it join the growing population of slightly horrifying living toys there.

The Uncanny Valley

Everything stretches farther than you’d think.

Gardens will be fruitful.

If it looks like a living creature, it can move and speak.

The abandoned have a place here.

Your imperfections are loved.

The Longest Furby’s Chancel, the Uncanny Valley, is a deep crevice, folded in on itself such that it passes outside the mundane world’s notice. It is accessible from almost everywhere if one knows the right mental trick; it involves a sort of gradual approach to any mundane, constructed doorway, but not actually going inside. The Chancel itself is bursting with lush growth, cultivated gardens, and beautiful babbling streams, and it’s populated almost entirely by living dolls - mostly Furbies and things that resemble Furbies, but not entirely. Besides the better-known mechanical kind, several species of organic Furbylike creature exist here, blending mammalian and avian traits to various degrees; I hope the largest are maybe the size of a medium dog, because anything larger starts distressing me a little to think about, but you never know.

The place has sort of an Island of Misfit Toys vibe, because most of the residents have been deliberately modified, or got broken once and then mended, or were always kind of unsettling. It’s got a little bit of benign Hell-nature to it, I suppose, in its acceptance of oddballs and rejected things. Between the gardens, the guarantee of finding a place, and the ability to metaphorically and literally stretch their supplies, it’s a very hospitable spot, for people able to look past the mild creepiness of their hosts.

Attributes

Aspect 0

Domain 1

Persona 4

Treasure 2

with 8 MP each. Nothing too fancy; I think they prefer to keep out of actual conflicts, and bluff their way out of bad situations with Persona tricks, amping up their own creepiness and/or how dangerous other people perceive them to be.

Their primary Treasure is a pair of magically-imbued elbow-length soft leather gloves made of their own skin, which hasn’t been replaced; Luc just walks around with clean, bare skeleton hands. It’s fine. Both the gloves and the hands are kind of super gross if you think about it too hard but it’s fine.

The gloves are capable of animating, floating around, and doing simple tasks autonomously, or more complex ones under telepathic mental direction, without anyone actually putting hands in them (I don’t know if I need to ...spend something, somewhere, to give it this ability, or if I get to just declare it?). Mostly they are left behind in the Uncanny Valley and are used for the benefit of all the residents who don’t have proper hands, including The Longest Furby herself. The +1 Tool bonus applies when they’re used for sewing repairs.

Bonds/Afflictions

Affliction: I am always dignified. (3)

Affliction: I can peel the skin off anything. (2)

Bond: My hands are bare and skeletal. (2)

Bond: I’m still connected to my old skin. (Treasure bond) (2)

Bond: I take care of small creatures. (2)

Bond: I always have the perfect outfit. (1)

Bond: I take my Imperator’s commands seriously, even the goofy ones. (1)

... I still have a couple points to allocate but I’ve run dry on ideas; maybe they have a mundane Furby or Furbyesque critter as another Treasure? I guess so. Like a weird stumpy little gryphon familiar. That’s cute, and would probably annoy them, so yes.

Passions/Skills

I’m going super out of order with these, aren’t I? Sorry. Mostly it’s that I’m not confident about this bit in particular, at all, but I guess it’s fine.

Passion: I want an uneventful life. (3)

Passion: A good outfit gives me confidence. (2)

Skill: Accountant (2)

Skill: Express sincere emotion (-1)

Cool (1)

Shine (4) (from Persona)

Why do I keep making accountant OCs? Listen, if I ever figure it out I’ll let you know. Something in my hindbrain insists that Luc used to work for a bank and I’m just rolling with it. Are all the skills and bonds relating to outfits and fashion and dignity overlapping too much? Also a mystery to me. Let me know.

Lifepath

As above, their Estate is Haunted Dolls. Their Keys are Gorse (Something In Thrall) and Oak (Something that Hasn’t Changed.)

Gorse Heart: Held In Thrall

This Furby nonsense.

Disturbing, but I can’t look away.

Nothing exciting to go back to.

I have to figure Her out.

There has to be meaning to this.

Gorse Shadow: Entangled with my Enemy

I can’t let go.

I’m weak.

Longfurby keeps introducing me to her weird friends.

This Key is strengthened by:

An Estate that’s ‘something you can point to’ (i.e., dolls. Straightforward!)

a Humble mortal life (they were nobody special and preferred it that way.)

A connection to the Cammora (I don’t know what sort of connection! Even the merest shadow of the concept amuses me, though. OOC, a couple folks in the fandom have accused The Longest Furby of being a Mimic or an Actual; maybe she’s discreetly under investigation in-universe too and the Cammora have approached Luc?)

Song of the Light (I’m not suuuuure about this one but I’m not sure which of the other Affiliations it’d be, either. I don’t think they’re independent enough for for rejecting an allegiance altogether, or for the Wild. There’s arguments that could be made for all four of the others, so I just went with the one that strengthened their Key... I guess it’d make sense that, ultimately, they’d favor humanity over everything else, even as they feel increasingly disconnected from it (see below). I don’t know if it’s possible to change this later but maybe as they progress along their character arc they’ll get more sympathy for the weird stuff and start listening to Hell instead?)

and weakened by:

a connection to Aliens (all the weird Furbies and Furby-adjacent creatures Luc keeps befriending with deep reluctance, from the Imperator-level ones all the way down to the mundane ones they animate with their own powers. A quirk/blind spot is that they don’t really differentiate between a mechanical, magically animated Furby that used to be totally inanimate and the ‘natural’ ‘’’organic’’’ ones native to the Uncanny Valley.)

Oak Heart: My Identity

Sensible and distinguished.

Calming influence.

Exasperated but unfazed by strange events.

Former banker.

Oak Shadow: Crisis

Privately, I’m deeply unsettled by the changes in my life.

This Key is strengthened by:

More than anything else, they are Something Cool (they’re nothing grandiose, nothing especially weird in and of themself, not deeply passionate - they just roll with the punches a little Too calmly.)

An Estate that represents the dark side of the human experience (to be pretentious a moment: not really the uncanny qualities of the dolls themselves, but the judgement we collectively render on things that don’t fit an accepted mold. does that work...)

a Humble mortal life (again)

and weakened by:

the Legacy of their humble life is Alienation (Luc doesn’t feel especially connected to humanity anymore - per Song of the Light they still care about humans, in the abstract, but, for example, they don’t have strong ties to their mortal family (no outright falling-out, I don’t think, just drifted away). They can’t get that emotional connection going, and that freaks them out if they think too hard about it. They’re trying to think of themself as above all this change and upheaval in their life, and fundamentally unchanged as a person, and outwardly sure, maybe, but underneath that they’re really kind of not.)

This is so fucking much. This game is wild. Technically I think I should be writing Domain and Persona difficulty charts - let’s be real, I probably will - and probably some other little details, but I’m leaving it here for right now! I was going to put a disclaimer on this like “I’m not taking this too seriously, I don’t have plans to use it in a game or anything,” and I don’t, but listen, people keep saying they want to incorporate Longfurby into their games. I am helpless before this tide, and if anyone does in fact put their money where their mouth is on this one, you’re certainly welcome to include Mx. Perreault as well, if she needs Powers.

All credit for actually making the original Longfurby and bringing her into our physical world rests with @furbyfuzz, who is wonderful and excellent.

#nobilis #long post #aarons longfurby #karma ocs #alright i need to stop fussing with this and post.#placeholder nanowrimo tag

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dfhvn · 7 years ago

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A Day In LA With Deafheaven // Stereogum

Loud Love : A Day In LA With Deafheaven The California screamers open up about real life, baby ducks, and 'Ordinary Corrupt Human Love'

Full article by Larry Fitzmaurice via Stereogum

Everyone has to grow up eventually — even ducklings. “Look, dude — the baby ducklings!” Deafheaven guitarist Kerry McCoy stops as we’re mid-conversation, pointing out a plump of web-footed friends on a small rolling pitch alongside the walking path of Los Angeles’ Echo Park.

“I know! They’re getting big,” the band’s howling lead singer George Clarke marvels, as the two stop to briefly ponder the not-quite-grown, no-longer-young fowl squatting and waddling on the grass.

“I saw them the other day, too,” says McCoy.

“They were more yellow before,” Clarke explains with a level of attentiveness that would make one think he raised the ducklings himself.

I’m here to observe what Clarke describes to me as “what a normal day for us is like,” as Deafheaven luxuriate in the relative calm before the busyness of touring and promo that will accompany the release of their fourth album, Ordinary Corrupt Human Love (out July 13 via ANTI-). These days, Clarke and McCoy are sticklers for routine — and as they recount their regular goings-on to me, it’s slightly adorable that these longtime friends’ day-to-day approach bears close similarity: wake up around 7 in the morning, hit the gym, run some errands, meet up in the park for a bit, and watch a movie or an episode of Billions before crashing out. Both spend part of their day caring for others: Clarke for his grandfather who currently lives with him, and McCoy for a few persistently hungry cats. “I have to stay out until 6 or 7 PM, otherwise they meow until they get food,” he mock-complains with a grin.

Earlier in the day, Clarke and I hit up the Echo Lake outpost of crunchy Cali natural-food chain Lessen’s, as he dumps a variety of salad-bar ingredients — corn, beets, kale, shredded cabbage and peppers, and a heaping helping of steamed veggies, if you’re looking to take on the Deafheaven Diet — into a container. We walk over to the sprawling Echo Park and Clarke unfurls a sizable blanket, festooned with the album art for the band’s 2013 star-making LP Sunbather, before stripping to a white tank-top and laying out belly-down to nosh while we chat about the latest mixtape from Oakland rapper All Black. McCoy joins us soon after along with former member Stephen Clark, who stoically sips from a bottle of water and sucks down a few cigs while the trio are quite literally sunbathing under the LA rays.

All it takes is one listen to Ordinary Corrupt Human Love to deduct that this period of respite is well-earned. Since their alluring 2011 debut Roads To Judah, the band’s dark-arts alchemy of death metal’s frigid rush, shoegaze’s impressionistic swarm, and the emotional catharsis of post-rock has somehow only grown more epic with every release. That’s even more true with their latest record, which at times recalls Mellon Collie-era Smashing Pumpkins and Sunny Day Real Estate’s Diary in its ultra-bright melodic sweep. There are female vocals present, courtesy of West Coast occult-rocker Chelsea Wolfe — as well as actual singing, as Clarke shows off a deeper vocal register beyond his signature burned-out bark.

The personal boundary-pushing and overall prettiness of Ordinary Corrupt Human Love doesn’t so much suggest a newer, shinier Deafheaven as it does a natural progression (or a full realization, even) of the genre-blending hard rock sound they’ve spent most of the decade refining. As tempting as it might be to refer to the album as Deafheaven’s “mature” turn, there’s still a youthful passion that courses through it like a lit match dropped into dry brush — but that doesn’t mean the quintet haven’t gone through some serious personal changes in the interim between 2015’s New Bermuda and now (which marks, to date, the longest gap between Deafheaven records).

“We were 24 when Sunbather came out,” Clarke reflects while discussing the intense emotions and personal strain the band’s been through since that record’s release. “We were still sleeping on floors when we were home, but the rest of the time we were on tour with idle hands and free cash.” He pauses for a second and chuckles ruefully. “Some people are smart — but we decided not to be.”

Before their current residence in LA (Clarke and McCoy have lived in the city for about four years now) and Deafheaven’s teeth-cutting Bay Area days, the pair spent their adolescence scrapping about in the central California suburbs of Modesto. “It was normal,” McCoy describes their respective upbringings, “but it’s all relative. I’m sure Bill Gates’ kids have seen some shit, too.” But he’s quick to note that the relative mundanity of their upbringing also made for a normalization of the intolerance the young punks experienced growing up, too: “I’d just accepted that the way the world went was seeing a giant truck with a Confederate flag drive by, calling me a fag.” (In the middle of this parkside recollection, Clarke interrupts to point out something decidedly not normal: a shirtless pedestrian sporting a full-chest Monster energy drink tattoo. “Check out how lit this tattoo is,” he giggles, as we briefly debate its authenticity.)

When he was 15, McCoy’s father took him to a protest against the Iraq War, and he wore a white armband to school afterwards, which resulted in him getting “destroyed” by his classmates. “We recently went to the March For Our Lives,” Clarke mentions, “and I think it’s really cool that kids these days — even if they’re not 100% informed on stuff — are really making an effort to be. Comparatively, there was no one [in high school] thinking about anything else other than the direct narrative you were given in this small town.”

Music had been in both of their lives from an early age — McCoy’s father once worked as a music journalist, and some of Clarke’s earliest memories include leafing through CD booklets with his mother — and the outsider feeling both of them shared only further deepened their sonic interests. “When you’re living in the Central Valley and you’re into ‘alternative’ things, it forces you further into the hole you’re digging for yourself,” Clarke explains. “You’re already a loser with acne, and now you’re painting your nails for a Misfits show,” McCoy follows up with a chuckle. His first band was a punky high school outfit called The Confused, which self-distributed a CD called What The Hell that everyone in his social circle thought “sucked.” Clarke’s inaugural musical foray was in a band called Fear And Faith Alike that, in his words, “was very 2002 metalcore.”

CREDIT: Frazer Harrison / Getty Images

Clarke and McCoy first became friends when the latter saw “this fool” (Clarke) sitting outside in the rain during high school, decked out in fishnet arm sleeves, a Slayer T-shirt, and a white backpack covered with pentagrams and band names scrawled in Bic. They stayed close as the former bounced around high schools, returning to Modesto after barely graduating in San Jose; after a few failed attempts at forming post-high school bands, the two formed Deafheaven in 2009 after McCoy joined Clarke to share a $500/month apartment in the Upper Haight area of San Francisco.

Deafheaven began as a pretty much anonymous project, to the point where the pair created a Facebook page for the band that essentially positioned it as a one-man act. “We didn’t tell anyone we grew up with about it,” Clarke explains. “We knew if we told people it was us, everyone would be like ‘Fuck off.'” In 2010, they recorded a demo with Bay Area producer Jack Shirley for the cost of $500, a sum which Clarke and McCoy (who were scrambling to even make monthly rent) struggled to pay back for six months.

“This man’s patience is endless,” Clarke speaks admirably about Shirley, whom McCoy refers to as “the Ian McKaye of the West Coast” and “like a straight-edge Marine”; he’s produced every Deafheaven record since. “They were broke beyond broke,” recalls Shirley, whose work with Deafheaven has led him to record acts like Wolves In The Throne Room and Jeff Rosenstock. “It wasn’t a huge deal, though. I try to be patient in those situations, and I’m glad I didn’t [let money get in the way], because it would’ve severed my ties with a band that I have a great relationship with now.”

After the demo made the rounds online, Deafheaven expanded to a full-band lineup and signed to Converge frontman Jacob Bannon’s Deathwish Inc. label, who released Roads To Judah and Sunbather — the latter of which received a profile-raising critical response that metal and “heavy” music in general typically doesn’t enjoy. “We went from a band that nobody really gave a fuck about, to … not the world’s biggest band, but a thing!” McCoy exclaims. “I had an apartment, I moved to LA, I got a girlfriend — life got kind of big.”

The success Deafheaven enjoyed following Sunbather’s release was, for a band on their level, a bit dizzying. Their fanbase spanned kindred spirits like Mono and Explosions In The Sky to rapper Danny Brown and Third Eye Blind’s Stephan Jenkins. On the other hand, the band found themselves unwittingly receiving the indie-TMZ treatment after a Swedish blogger spotted them hanging out at the VIP area of Gothenburg’s Way Out West festival with a Sub Pop representative (full disclosure: I was also present for said hang), ginning up a post shortly after speculating about the band’s potential next career moves — a surprise to the folks back at Deathwish. “I felt so bad,” Clarke says in a tone of sincerity about the accidental reveal.

CREDIT: Gari Askew II / Stereogum

Combined with the extensive post-Sunbather touring schedule, the increased attention on Deafheaven — as well as the pressures of writing and recording the band’s next album, which they’d committed to within a tight time frame under new label home ANTI- — was starting to take its toll on everyone involved. “All this touring and great stuff was fun and exciting, but it blows up your personality with regards to things you have when you become middle-class,” McCoy states. “And you have habits that blow up with that.”

As work on New Bermuda progressed, the pressure of following up their big breakthrough began to wear on the band — hard. Shirley states that, as a “habitually sober” person, he didn’t witness any dysfunction in the recording studio; but McCoy describes the ways in which Deafheaven’s members dealt with the situation as “unhealthy,” and he and Clarke started to literally lose sleep over the prospect of what would come next. “I’d wake up in the middle of the night thinking that everyone was mad at me because the record sucked,” says McCoy, “and we’d all have to go back to Whole Foods — everyone was laughing at us.”

Various substances were on-hand and frequently present during this time — a product of bad habits never dropped and exacerbated by the party-hardy temporary lifestyle that touring afforded. “You’d be like, ‘Well, I gotta be in the practice space for five hours today — better bring two 40’s,'” Clarke remembers. “When you’re touring for five years, your body degrades,” explains guitarist Shiv Mehra, who joined the band along with drummer Daniel Tracy while Sunbather was being recorded. “Drinking doesn’t help.”

Clarke recalls a show in Sao Paulo on the band’s first South American tour supporting New Bermuda as a colliding point for the band’s substance use and personal strain. “It should’ve been insane,” he recalls with a touch of regret, “But everyone was backstage burnt that the booze wasn’t there yet.”

“We were all just sitting there staring at our phones, waiting for whoever — or whatever — to show up,” McCoy adds. “Our entire world wants to come backstage and be the guy to hang out with you, and they know there’s a certain way to do that.”

“We were all still bothered by each other from touring,” Clark, who possesses a quiet yet thoughtful demeanor, states. “We didn’t have any time off from each other for years.” Following New Bermuda’s tour cycle — a period of time he says “quite literally ruined his life” — he chose to leave the band and was replaced by current bassist Chris Johnson, but still remains close with everyone.

“I didn’t handle having money well,” Clark asserts with straightforward conviction. “It was so easy to party, and I was never much of a partier — so I was all over the world having fun, with no longevity in mind. It all came crashing down.”

“It was a dark and bad experience,” McCoy states plainly on the time period surrounding New Bermuda. By the end of the album cycle, everyone was exhausted, and the mere act of being in the band had turned into drudgery.

“It stopped being fun,” Clarke states on his view towards the band at that point. “It became a chore.”

I ask if there was ever a point during this period of time in which he thought Deafheaven would cease to exist. Later, when I relay his answer to others in the band, they’re quick to note it was an exaggeration, but it’s a rough reply regardless: “I kind of thought someone would die,” says Clarke. We’re not gonna break up because we don’t have anything else, but something drastic or scary happening was within the realm of possibility. If anything would’ve taken us down, it would’ve been … tragic.”

When I press on if there were any specific close calls that took place, the three demur, nervously laugh, and murmur to themselves, “Maybe — not really,” declining to elaborate. “When you’re fuckin’ around, you’re fuckin’ around,” Clarke says with an uneasy chuckle.

Clarke quickly follows up: “When you have a problem, you have a problem.”

Work on Ordinary Corrupt Human Love informally began in late 2016 around a single piano riff McCoy had been toying around with, but much of the album was written and recorded from October of last year until this past February. Deafheaven camped out in a cluster of Oakland homes and, after an informal jam session during the first day of recording, found that the time off did them good.

“We finally dealt with all the stuff that made New Bermuda so dark — and when we did, we realized that all that other stuff was junk,” McCoy passionately describes. “When we all got in a room together, I was like, ‘This was the juice of life right here.'”

“It was like we’d been holding our breath for three years, finally let it out, took another one, and said ‘Everything’s gonna be OK,'” Clarke adds.

In truth, there was still a ways to go. To this day, Deafheaven’s members describe themselves as living “healthier” than before, but McCoy is the only band member who’s completely sober, a decision he made during recording late last year after an extended struggle with drug addiction. It’s a sensitive topic for him to discuss, and the details he’s willing to offer regarding his path to sobriety are scant — but he makes it unmistakably clear that things could not go on the way they were for much longer.

“I’d come to a point where I was done being out there,” he explains, “And I was willing to try anything to get off it.” McCoy reached out to a friend, who helped put him on the path to recovery; he’s been sober since late 2017. “My favorite thing in the world was to play guitar,” he states, “And for a long time, I forgot that. Ever since I made this decision, my life has gotten immeasurably better.”

Casting aside the past was essential for not just McCoy, but the entirety of Deafheaven to move forwards after the fraught period of time they were trying to leave behind. “I don’t think anyone who worked on New Bermuda wanted to make another record that sounded like New Bermuda,” Clarke states, who goes on to describe Ordinary Corrupt Human Love as the sound of “people enjoying what they’re doing.” If the aesthetic of the new album reflects the emotions of the people who recorded it, then the lyrical content zooms in on the world around them — the splendor and sameness of peoples’ everyday lives.

CREDIT: Gari Askew II / Stereogum

The universal, explicitly humanistic focus was developed after Clarke began collaborating with photographer Nick Steinhardt to, in his words, “photograph people in their natural habitat.” “I told him I didn’t want anything extraordinary — just people in their everyday routine, looking at a snapshot of someone in their day and just drinking it in,” he explains. The album’s cover features an anonymous woman in Los Angeles’ Civic Center area, her scarf blowing in front of her face; the inlay art features a child holding out his hand to his mother as he prepares to cross the street.

McCoy describes the album cover as “a potential alternate version” of the iconic album art for Radiohead’s The Bends, and Clarke cites the tinted-hue portraiture of Belle And Sebastian’s visual art as a parallel — both comparisons serving as reminders that, despite their roots in heavy music, their palettes span far beyond what genre purists might come to expect.

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And if Deafheaven’s genre-agnostic approach seemed polarizing around the time of Sunbather, it seems weirdly prescient now. In a way, the 29-year-old McCoy and Clarke are indicative of the landscape-flattening streaming generation, in a good way. Sure, it’s easy to bemoan the age of the algorithm and the fluctuating state of discovery for budding music fans in the digital age. But it’s even easier to forget that discovering “good” music used to possess a distinct social element not far off from joining the football team in high school: Are the indie kids any different than the jocks if they still bristle at people joining their lunch table?

For Deafheaven’s and younger generations, discovering new music is easier than ever, and if you’re willing to turn discovery into creativity as they have been, the possibilities are endless. And anyway, even though Deafheaven’s earlier work was sometimes overshadowed by the band’s perpetual and ineffective battle with the metal scene, the band’s members have since learned to hang with the genre misconceptions. “My girlfriend sent me a screenshot about how ‘Honeycomb’ has a punk section — that’s textbook Oasis!” McCoy says with an easygoing laugh that speaks to a greater truth when it comes to getting older. Sometimes it’s easier to just let old grudges go.

Despite the cloudy forecast, it’s a bit brighter of a day than we’re expecting. With the threat of sunburn fast approaching, we pack up the blanket, take a leisurely walk around the park, and head to the 826 Time Travel Mart. The Mart’s a funky Sunset Blvd. spot funded by the Dave Eggers-founded nonprofit 826, featuring arch, kitschy items ranging from giant dinosaur eggs to a powdered concoction called “robot milk” — but McCoy’s less invested in the temporally-out-of-whack wares on display than he is in the tutoring courses being offered in the next room of the nonprofit-funded space.

An employee explains the programs offered as McCoy listens intently, and when Clarke returns from grabbing a coffee nearby he does similarly. At first blush, the thoughtfulness and social investment that the pair show during my time with them might seem too fitting of a narrative for a band trying to straighten up and fly right — but such character traits often come with growing up, too.

“Nikki Sixx was 27 when shit got really bad and he tried to clean up for the first time,” Clarke points out as our time comes to a close, before McCoy has to go check on the cats and Clarke’s grandfather needs help getting his computer fixed. “We reached that age too. We want to take what we do seriously and have a career — and to eliminate the things that get in the way of that. If you don’t die at 27, you can do a lotof shit.”

#Deafheaven #Stereogum

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everythinginslowmotion · 7 years ago

Text

Mending Purple Together

The third and final story to the Hurting and Fixing the Broken Series. (Read it on ao3 here |x|).

Summary: The end of the war is finally drawing to a close but the wars that are fought inside us reach out farther than can be seen. Like the ocean, emotions and thoughts are endless. They're wild and free, ever-changing and free flowing among itself. Going deeper than can be imagined and surfacing to either calm or raging waters. In times of need, Lance was always drawn to the water. It was his home and where he belonged. It flowed through his veins and gave him life in a world that surrounded him in blue and red.

Start at the beginning:

Seeing Red |x| (ao3) or |x| blog post

Fixing Blue |x| (ao3) or |x| blog post

Series |x|

Emotions are of the sea. The sea is ever changing. It is never the same color twice. sometimes it's the deepest blue, the kind that you could look into for ages and get lost in how mesmerizing it is. Sometimes it's green and so clear you can practically see the bottom and you wish you could dive right in and absorb the beauty of it all. The sea never feels the same way either. It moves and flows, the life within it’s deep waters continuing on whether the surface is calm or the roughest state it will ever inhabit. See, the sea is strong and full of power at times, rough enough to allow all humanity from wanting to be near. It can be beautiful and calm, but it can also destroy or turn ugly as outward forces begin to reside within. However, there is one emotion that stands alone, away from the similarities the sea shares with human feelings.

The sea cannot love as humanity can.

-3 deca-pheobs later -

“Lance! To your right!”

Pidge’s voice cut through the trained focus he was holding on the soldiers below. Quickly he flipped his whole position, rotating around his rifle ready to shoot as he sees the flash of silver come down slicing clean through the robotic body of the glara warrior that was about to end him. He could see the sweat droplets running down the side of Keith’s face slicking the edge of his overgrown bangs to his forehead. There was a determination set deep within his body- being let out through his gaze and labored breathing- as he picked up the sword turned back towards the boy he just saved, winking and then moving on to the next victim of his impulsive actions. Lance turned back to his previous subject, tuning into that same determination his boyfriend was putting into his own efforts.

Allura told them that this could be it. The final battle to save the universe, making all of the work that the team has put into being members of voltron worthwhile. If they failed everything would be over. The universe would crumble at the hands of Lotor and team voltron would be executed. No fame. No glory. No seeing their family ever again.

It had been a long time since Lance had seen his family. Well it had been a long time for everyone but it hits him really hard. He only really allows his mind to wander into that whenever Keith is around. And in the middle of a huge battle that the fate of the universe is depending on apparently. If he keeps distracting himself then there will be no Keith or family left to think about. He inhale a deep breath and adjusted his aim.

Aim. Fire. Dead.

He was like a broken record. Playing the same track over and over again. Aim. Fire. Dead. He never missed a shot anymore. Not unless his arm was injured or he had taken a beating and even then the aim was slightly to the right, usually hitting somewhere where the subject would still be injured. Allura took the last soldier out with a couple of hits and the room was clear- for now.

The mission didn’t start out as the battle to end all battles. It originated as a rescue mission. A little over two years before during a fight with Zarkon Shiro went missing. It was rough for everybody- especially Keith- which meant it was rough for Lance in a different way.

The two of them had grown close over the months since Lance had broken his hand and admitted his love for him. They were essentially the others second half. They were in time with one another in a way that the rest of the team couldn’t be. Obviously nobody could replace the bonds that they already had formed with other members of the team, but with each other it was something new. Keith had started breaking due to his uncontrollable affiliation with the enemy and Lance was still fighting away his self doubt. And though neither could do much to actually repair the other, they were around and helped as much as they could. The were being fixed together.

Or so Lance thought.

When Shiro disappeared something changed. Lance was now the right hand of Voltron. The second in command. Keith’s second in command. Always right behind Keith. He began to see the red from his past. The same red that had transformed itself into a passionate determined love morphed back into the anger that got his arm broken before. It started to mess with his mind again. But he couldn’t let it. So he gave up Blue and he gave up his pride and followed the direction that Keith wanted to go. The only person that Keith would listen to was Lance but beyond battles their interactions became limited. Keith didn’t want to talk, all he wanted to do was find Shiro. That is what everyone wanted, but no one wanted it like Keith did.

The thoughts started to absorb into his skin. Flooding and surrounding until nothing else was there. Lance couldn’t go back though. Not again. Not again. Blue wouldn’t open up to him anymore and Red wouldn’t listen like Blue ever did. She wasn’t truly his so why would she. So he went to the only place he could think of even if he was unwanted- Keith.

He had already started giving up on anything more than a friendship between him and Keith. It had been months and they grew close but nothing more and now with Keith shutting himself off so bad, all hope was gone. Showing up at Keith’s door was difficult especially knowing that what he was about to say was a sad truth that they couldn’t avoid. He was voltrons weakest link and he would be the one to go when Shiro returned. And Keith would agree.

Keith didn’t agree. In fact it was the opposite, but beyond slight teasing on his part with “Leave the math to Pidge” nothing much more was said. And then it backfired. Keith eventually left the team when Shiro returned. He would come in and out for a while but a few months passed and he stopped showing up completely to join the Blade of Marmora leaving Shiro as the black paladin and Lance has a permanent replacement. There was hardly a goodbye between them. Lance became mad but he wouldn’t allow himself to slip back into where he was again. No more breaking hands on walls because the boy you love left you and your team when you were convinced he cared. He trained. He participated in the campaigns. He trained some more. Sometimes he would stand outside of Keith’s room as if he was there. He would talk to Red about him sometimes, never anyone else. And sometimes he would even go into Blue’s hanger and attempt to make conversation with the lion but there was never the pull in the back of his mind as a response. But he would never go back to being how bad he was.

The day that Keith returned was a rough one for everybody. The team was being tracked by Lotor somehow and had been fighting battles almost on the daily. They were in the middle of a battle when the Blade figured out that the Shiro that had been with them was never real. Just a synthetic clone made to look like him and given his memories. To be fair, the clone never knew he was a clone until he started getting controlled. It hit the team where it hurt and after the barely won battle the team remained Shiroless once again and were in need of yet another black paladin. The reunion was rocky and turned sour quickly. Lance guessed that Allura had contacted the blade calling for Keith to return, but no one else had been expecting what happened. Months had gone by with no sign or attempt at contact from Keith and then one day while they were in the middle of a meeting the doors opened behind him and there he was, still in his Marmora armor, walking in as if he was just in his room and was arriving late. His hair had grown long enough to go past his shoulders and his face looked dark and sad. He had a scar that went from the middle of his chin just under his bottom lip and stretched down his jaw and onto the side of his neck. It was red and relatively fresh, as if it had just finished healing.

Everyone was silent for a moment as he made his way forward across the room. Lance heard Allura start to speak, then he started moving. He was angry. Relieved. Sad. Overjoyed. Keith always had a way of making him feel everything at once.

He saw a smile starting to form on Keith's face as he got closer. The scar seemed to stretch making the smile look different. They met in the middle with a shove of Lance’s hands on Keith’s chest. Hard and angry. No warmth in that greeting.

“Lance what the…”

“You think that you can just leave us- leave me- for months with no contact and then as soon as you get word that he is gone just walk in here with no warning. No form of preparation. You’re obviously not okay and you just… you just…” He couldn’t take it anymore. He was sure that everyone was in shock by his actions but he didn’t care. He moved forward again and Keith held up his hands as if he was expecting to be shoved again but rather Lance wrapped his arms around him as if he was never going to let go. “I was so worried. Why…”

“I missed you too Lance. We can talk later.”

Lance held on for a little bit longer until it finally caught up to him that there was an entire universe that needed the attention he was giving to Keith. They couldn’t afford anymore time right now. The team had their black paladin back and they had a mission to plan out.

Time went by. They trained. They fought. They survived. And then one day it went quiet. Lotor had to be planning something big for them. They waited around the castle for a few days, training constantly. Eventually they began advertising for the coalition once again. The movement was growing in their favor and it seemed as if Lotor was letting it happen. Between their team exercises and the recruitment they had downtime to themselves in the castle. Somewhere in there Lance and Keith became close once again. They trained together almost every night when neither of them could sleep because they were so worried about the possibility of the impending attacks. And when they were finished Lance would go back to Keith’s room to sleep. The only time he was in his room anymore was to change his clothes. And on nights when it was really hard for either of them they would go type in the coordinates of earth in the control room and sit in silence as they started at the reason for it all. It no longer mattered if they came out of the fight alive or not. As long as they could save the universe from falling into the Galra’s control, everything would all be worth it.

Which is why when they got information that Shiro, the real Shiro that started this crazy journey with them, was still alive the desire that they all had to go save him became such a risky mission. Allura didn’t want to risk the team to go save one person no matter who that person was. It took weeks of planning to organize an attack that Allura would agree to. The perfect rescue mission that would allow them to get the real Shiro back and make everything return to how it should be.

This of course worried Lance. Him and Keith were finally together. They were happy- well as happy as they could get with the fate of the universe resting on top of their shoulders. But would Keith step aside again if need be? Was their plan too risky? Lance had his doubts, and though he has started speaking up more when he was skeptical and forces himself to be listened to, he stayed quiet. He knew he was being selfish.

Allura told them to all get some rest before they were to set out. Lance knew him and Keith weren’t going to get any sleep, not when they had a battle ahead of them that could quite literally make or break everything that they had spent years working towards. They had spent the last few years of their teenage lives fighting an intergalactic war that was going to be put in slight jeopardy within the next few hours. They just laid there in Keith’s bed- holding each other close. Lance’s head was on Keith’s chest and even though he couldn’t see his face he knew he was as wide awake as him.

“Promise you won’t leave again.”

“Why would…”

“When we get Shiro back, promise me you won’t leave again like last time.”

“I promise.”

Lance couldn’t tell if he was lying in that moment or not. But it didn't matter because right then and there they were together and the world was okay.

It didn’t remain that way for much longer however. The castle alarms began to go off and instantly Lance and Keith were up and putting their armor on. Something wasn’t right. The alarms weren’t supposed to go off. They should still have time left. Lance and Keith broke off without a word running towards their individual hangers.

“Allura what is going on?” Lance heard Hunk’s voice over the comm system. He sounded exhausted but it was easy to tell that he was becoming anxious extremely fast. He was as scared as Lance was.

“Lotor must know about our plan to rescue Shiro. He has probably been anticipating this for awhile now. A fleet of his is making their way towards our position. If we move now we may be able to stop them, I already have Coran contacting members of the coalition. I’m afraid this rescue mission just became a full scale battle. The biggest one we have seen in a while.”

“Will we still be able to save Shiro?” Keith’s voice sounded calm over the speakers. His voice was deeper and less aggressive than it had been so many years before. He wasn’t going to let his personal connection with Shiro get in the way of the mission.

“I believe that we can if we play our odds right. However I'm afraid that will be a difficult task. Lotor doesn’t seem to be playing games anymore. He is ready for a fight. To have control over what he wants. This may very well be our final battle in this war, but if we succeed then I believe that Shiro’s rescue can be achieved.”

“Pidge get the doors!” Keith’s voice rang through the speaker. The urgency in his voice covering up the determination that had been displayed earlier. Where Lance was a broken record in battle, Keith was a grenade. He was powerful and explosive, you pull the latch and you set him off. Despite how sharp and mature he had grown over the years, he was still unpredictable and his impulsiveness still edged its way through. But none of that was present now. Lance could just hear it in his voice how nervous he was getting. The soldiers in the room were all taken out for now but they had invaded a ship to save their friend after already taking out many. All of them were exhausted and Keith wasn’t just worrying about their success but it was all becoming real to him that somewhere close by they would be finding Shiro- hopefully in one piece. If Shiro was truly located somewhere near, the lack of guards would not be something that will become familiar.

Pidge opened the doors from her location. It worried Lance that she was off by herself in the control room alone, but he also knew that if they were going to maneuver their way through the ship and find Shiro that was the best way to do it. Pidge could handle herself, especially since she essentially had full control over every door in the place. The other four paladins started off down the hallway ahead.

“Okay guys, when you get up towards the end this hallway splits up into two directions. I’m sure they moved Shiro’s location once they realized that we were coming for him. He could be anywhere at this point so you’ll probably have to split up.”

“Hunk you go with Allura and I’ll take Lance. Search every room you can. Pidge let us know if we are coming up on any trouble or if the other group needs more than two people.” Hunk and Allura nodded and went to the left as Keith and Lance made their way down the right side.

The hallway was long and relatively empty, not many doors. The ones that they did see led to abandoned rooms. The guards must have changed position as well and they obviously figured out how to cover their location because Pidge was having trouble finding them too. They opened a door that appeared to be an elevator type thing so they got on and took it down to wherever it lead.

“Any sign of them Pidge?”

“Actually I don’t have sign of almost anything. Where did you and Lance go? All that I have on screen is Hunk and Allura.”

“We got on an elevator and it’s taking it down. Do you have control over anything in the bottom areas of the ship?”

“I’m not sure. I can try and access them but they are doing something to block me out.”

“Hunk and I will be on our way over there. That must be where all of the soldiers went.”

“No, you guys keep searching where you are. Lance and I can handle it and you might find something useful over there. Pidge do you have any idea how Coran and Matt are doing with the rest of the coalition on holding off Lotor’s forces?”

“They seem to have it covered as of right now, but I would hurry in case they need Voltron soon.”

They began to slow down and both him and Keith held up their weapons ready to attack. The doors opened to reveal three soldiers waiting and ready. Keith lunged for one as Lance picked off the other two with his pistols. Those were the only three that they could see right now but the hallway was lined with doors that could potentially hold several more. Lance changed his bayard into a gun more suitable for their situation. Keith used his hand to open the first door, holding his sword up as if expecting someone to jump out. It was empty. As well as the next five. The hallway broke off into two parts again at the end.

“Pidge any sight of us yet?”

“Not yet.”

“We aren’t splitting up Keith.”

“We need to cover more ground.”

“If we get into a mess with a lot of soldiers, neither of us can hold off alone. We make a good team. I’m not letting you go alone.”

“Fine, we’ll go left first.”

They opened a few more doors and still nothing.

“Hunk, do you guys have anything yet?”

“We found a few prisoners but not much else.”

Keith opened the next door and the first thing out of it was a shot from one of the enemy's guns. It missed both of them and they lunged forward into the fight. There were quite a few soldiers in the room but not too many that they couldn’t handle it. Lance’s gun was able to get just enough that Keith could get the rest. At some point he took out his marmora blade and used both swords to fight off the oncoming targets. The room cleared and Keith opened the door that was on the opposite side. A few more soldiers came through, but again they were able to handle it. The next door led to another hallway. The ship was big, but if they were starting to run into more guards then they must be getting closer to something. In this hallway they found a few more prisoners to add to Hunk and Allura’s count but other than that nothing more than another elevator. It was a risk going down but they came here on a rescue mission and they needed to complete it.

Keith was noticeable nervous now, but only in his movements. His face was stone cold- determination setting back in.

“We are going to find him.” Lance said. He didn’t know why. Truth be told, they don’t know if there will even be any Shiro left to find. Or if there will end up being any one to find him if they run into too many guards.

The doors opened again and Lance immediately began firing off. Picking off four soldiers off the bat. Keith ran ahead cutting the heads off of two and once and then turning around to stab one through the abdomen. They had to be getting close. More and more guards were flooding into the room but Keith and him continued to push through. They were an unstoppable team together. All of the training and time they had put into perfecting their skills was shining through in their performance.

Keith opened a door and there were two guards waiting. Lance shot one but the other but Keith had to fight more with the other. Lance ducked on in. The room was wide. There were cage like areas built into the wall with several prisoners held in each one as if they were animals in a zoo. There were tables spread out across the room and structures that appeared to be similar to cryopods along the walls. Some of them were filled, others were empty. The room appeared to be some sort of hospital wing but it was probably used for some form of torture of experimentation instead of healing. Beyond the prisoners and Keith and Lance the room remained empty. They managed to free the prisoners and warned them about the possibilities that they may face if they run into any galra soldiers. One of the prisoners told them that the other prisoners were being held in the hallway beyond the door. When they parted ways, Keith opened the door and sure enough it looked like they had entered a prison. There were doors lining the walls that had singular windows looking into them. Lance and Keith went along looking for a way to open all of the doors. They had to open each individually. The first couple held two or three prisoners. The next one was empty. The next one Keith opened looked empty at first, but then Lance noticed there was a body curled up in the corner.

“Shiro!”

He remained curled up staring at the wall. Not responding to Keith’s voice at all.

“Keith I’ve got him, go open up the other cells.” He looked at Lance in response, the look of fear briefly showing through the hard exterior before disappearing as he nodded and took off. Lance slowly inched his way over to the man in the corner. He reached his hand out ready to touch the shoulder of the man that Lance used to idolize. Before he could get to him, the man turned and jumped up quickly, surprising Lance as he lunged forward wrapping his hands around his throat.

“Sh-Shiro! It’s- me… Lan- Lance. We’re here- to res…”

Shiro’s face looked wrong. His scar across his nose had been extended to go completely across his face and was also accompanied by another that traveled from his temple to his cheek. He had a black eye and a beard that was very gray despite him only being in his late 20’s. His hair was down to his shoulders and There was more white spread throughout now rather than gathered in the tuft at the front. His eyes were bloodshot and his hands and face were dirty. He was wearing the same clothes that all of the other prisoners were wearing- a torn purple shirt and loose fitting ripped shorts. If Lance didn’t know who he was, he would have been scared for his life- but something told him that maybe he should be anyway.

“No! You’re fake. You are always fake just like the rest of them! Voltron was defeated years ago, no one is coming to rescue me! You’re not real!”

“Shiro… pl- please… I’m real… I’m really- Lance…” It was getting harder to talk and even more so to gasp for air. Shiro was going to kill him.

“Shiro, let him go!” Keith made his way into the room. Shiro’s focus moved to look at the other paladin but his grip didn’t loosen around Lance’s neck.

“Why are there two of you! There is only ever one simulation! What are you trying to do to me!” He turned his gaze back to Lance, the look in his eyes got crazier.

“Shiro! Let him go, it’s really me! It’s really Keith! Look at my face, I have a scar. The Keith you know doesn’t have one!”

Shiro looked up and took a good look at Keith’s face. At the scar that was painfully noticeable across the bottom of his face. Shiro’s eyes softened and looked back between him and Lance and he let go. Lance immediately retreated to join Keith’s side.

“But… that’s impossible. You are all dead… Voltron lost… I. You must be fake.” Anger filled his eyes again and he started to charge forward. Keith also ran forward and elbowed him in the side of the head, knocking Shrio out.

“I’m sorry Shiro, it’s for your own good.”

“How are we supposed to get him back out? What if we run into more guards?”

“We’ll just have to carry him and work that out when we get there. But we need to move now. Pide, Allura, Hunk, we have Shiro and we are on our way back up. Free as many more prisoners as you can and then get back to where we came in. We need to get him to a pod as fast as possible and then we have a fight to get back to. “

They made their way back through doors and down hallways. The elevator doors that they needed opened before they got there and out poured soldiers. Keith dropped Shiro on the ground behind him and ran forward into action. They picked their way through the crowd and got Shiro and loaded into the elevator. When they got to their destination, more guards crowded towards them. Lance stayed back in the space they had occupied picking them off at a distance as Keith fought his way forward. Lance held up is gun to shoot again as he felt the push of a swing and his gun flew out of his hand and hit the wall. He fell backwards, helmet hitting the ground below him hard. His vision blurred for a moment before he saw a soldier coming towards him. He reached over and grabbed his gun holding it up to aim. Before he could get his vision back enough to shoot though the soldier was on top of him trying to get his knife past Lance’s gun that he was not using as a shield.

“Keith!” He cried out for help from the other paladin but he doesn’t think that he heard him. He turned his focus back to the guard that was fighting on top of him and pushed as hard as he could with his gun. He could hear Keith’s swords cutting through the crowd. It amazed Lance the power that his boyfriend had in battle. Meanwhile he was struggling to fight off one person. He never excelled at upclose hand to hand battle, but Keith had taught him quite a few things in their training.

The soldier managed to knock his gun to the side and he put his knife up to Lance’s helmet. He hit the glass covering his face, cracking the material.

“You really thought you could win against the Galra empire. You pathetic humans actually believed that your precious Voltron would stand a chance against the emperor” the soldier began as he hit the glass again making Lance wince. It shattered with the next hit getting all over Lance’s face. He could feel some of the shards cutting into his cheek. His face was exposed. “I wonder what it will feel like to kill a member of the great Voltron.” He put his knife up to his face next to his eyebrow. “Just how do I want to do it is the question.”

The tip of the knife pushed its way ever so slightly into his skin. He felt the blood began to rush from the area down his face. A scream erupted from his throat as the searing pain tore through his skull. The knife began to move downward cutting past his eyebrow, directly down. Lance couldn’t move. The only thing he could do was scream in horror and pain as the knife moved slowly down his face. Just as the knife was reaching his mouth, the movement suddenly stopped, the soldier falling over to the side dead. Lance’s hands came up to hold his face. The screams still tearing out of him.

“Lance! Oh my god we have to go now! You need to get to a pod immediately!”

Lance knew he had to get up, but the pain was unbearable.

“Hunk get here…”

The world went black before he heard the rest of the sentence.

“Lance… Lance… Come back to us. We miss you.”

Brightness flooded his eyes as they shot open. He opened his mouth and coughed up something that he didn’t want to think about and began taking deep breaths as if he hadn’t breathed in oxygen in years. As the brightness of the world began to dim, he slowly sat himself up and squinted at the sight in front of him. An empty beach with pure white sand and water blue and clear expanding for miles out into the edge of the earth. Varadero. He was home.

Joy filled his body, healing him from whatever state he had just woken up from. Lance pulled himself up from his resting place in the sand and ran towards the water he had waited for years to finally see again. He didn’t know how he got there or what happened to him he just knew that he had not been this happy in a while.

It was a perfect day outside, he was surprised he was the only person on the beach. The sky was clear and the sun was out but there he was, lonesome in the best place on the planet Earth. He ran into the water fully clothed and splashed around as if he were a child once again. He scooped the clear ocean into his hands and poured it on top of his head causing his hair to glue itself to his forehead. It was real. It felt so real.

He felt a nudge in his stomach- as if his body was pulling him. He followed as if on an invisible leash and turned to face the deserted sand again. The shops and buildings lined the background beyond the sand- as empty as the beach was. Lance began to walk out of the water and as he neared the shore he noticed that he was in fact not alone. There was a person- they looked short from the distance- but it was a man. He had medium length black hair from what Lance could see and was carrying an item of clothing in each hand. Lance walked onto the damp sand and drew closer to the man in front of him.

“Keith? Is that you?”

The man just smiled and turned around and began to walk. Lance followed closely behind curiously following the strange pull that was still present in his body that was now spreading to his limbs.

The man- Keith apparently- led him to one of the houses that resided close to the beach’s edge. It was relatively small compared to some of the others that stood ground along the beach. Elevated from the ground and yellow in color the memories of the house flooded back into Lance’s mind. It was their house. His family’s. The one that they stayed in when they visited the beach. He watched as Keith climbed the stairs and then stood on the balcony- waiting. Lance followed shortly, wondering what exactly was going on. He made it to the top and looked out at the view that Keith was looking at.

“I’ve been wanting to bring you here since I met you at the garrison.” Keith just turned and smiled at him. Lance just wanted to kiss him but he felt like he couldn’t for some reason.

“It’s almost over Lance. You need to wake up now.”

“Wake up? I just woke up on the beach about 20 minutes ago.”

Keith held up the two items of clothing that resided in his hand. One was his jacket, the one he wore all of the time in the early years of being apart of Voltron. It was his older brothers from forever ago. It was dirty and green and completely outdated but it was his favorite piece of clothing he owned. It reminded him of home when he needed it the most. The other was his helmet from his paladin armor. The original blue that he knew he truly was deep down despite being the red paladin for so many years now. It was scratched from the hardships he had faced in his past. The universe had been saved in that helmet- obviously, or else he wouldn’t be in the place he was.

“Why do you have those Keith?”

“You have a choice to make. I’m not going to tell you which one to choose, but we need you Lance.”

“What do you mean? We saved the universe, that’s why we are here.”

“You have to choose Lance. It’s time to wake up.”

Lanced looked between the two items. There was obviously something wrong. Keith’s voice sounded calm and soothing but it was beginning to worry Lance. His old jacket or his helmet. What did Keith mean it’s time to wake up? He continued to glance between the two and reached his hand out to touch the damaged piece of armor.

Pain shot through his head as soon as his hand touched the cool piece of armor. He covered the area over his right eye. It felt as if someone was taking a knife to his face. His whole body crumpled onto the wooden floor of the deck at Keith’s feet. He glanced up, looking at the man in front of him with his one good eye.

“Keith! What’s happening to me?”

“You’re waking up Lance. It’ll all be okay. Wake up now, we need you.”

The air around him began to grow really cold, making the hair on his arms and legs stand up from being not only wet, but also exposed in his shorts and tshirt. He looked out at the beach beyond. Everything looked so calm out there. In the distance he could see a ground of people all crowded around each other. His family.

“No, wait! I have to go see them!”

They all waved towards him, they could see him and he was about to “wake up” apparently.

“Keith please! I have to see them! I can’t leave them again!”

Lance tried to stand up but his legs felt weak. The pain in his eye was beginning to get worse. The world began to get brighter again but his vision was starting to blur and get darker around the edges.

“Please… Keith.”

The world around him faded to black.

The cold was chilling to the bone. It got underneath his skin and made its way through his body as he woke up. The next sensation was the brightness. It seemed familiar but this one took longer to go away. The world came slowly into focus and then he began to fall forward. He felt arms wrap around his stomach supporting his weight, keeping him from falling into the ground. He looked up at the face of the person who caught him- it was Hunk.

Hunk looked the same as he always had but over the years Lance hadn’t realized how much his best friend had really matured. His face had slimmed up from all of the training they do but he was still large in build. He looked older and less anxious about everything around him- rather he almost appeared calm except the more he looked at Lance’s face the more Lance noticed the worry begin to flood his eyes. His hair was longer now but he was still wearing his bandana that he loved and he had a beard. Lance doesn’t remember a lot but he was glad to see a familiar face- especially that of his best friend. The only thing that seemed off was that the world seemed closed off on his right side.

“How are you feeling Lance?”

“Well I’m freezing cold and am having to lean on you for support. So basically like every trip to cryopods. But something is wrong with my eyes, I can’t see out of my right one. Did something happen to my vision? Should I go back into the pod?”

“About that…”

The doors to the room opened and the rest of his team plus Matt flooded into the opening being led by Allura and Keith. Keith set his focus on Lance and walked straight forward, closing the distance when he finally made it to him with his mouth. Keith’s hands were on the sides of Lance’s face, keeping him close as he kissed him. When they finally separated, Keith's arms moved to his waist where he pulled him in for a hug and buried his head into Lance’s neck.

“You don’t ever worry me like that ever again. I thought we lost you.”

Despite them being in a relationship for quite a while now, there was hardly ever any public affection between them beyond holding hands and the occasional hug or kiss and even then they were initiated by Lance. It was just never Keith’s thing so it shocked Lance that he was being so open in front of the whole team. The rest of the people crowded around them as Keith let go of his waist but wrapped his arm around his shoulders as if to hold him up even though Lance was sure he would be fine by now.

“How are you feeling Lance?” Allura asked him. She looked a little worried, in fact all of them did. They were all staring at his face as if he had grown a third eye or something.

“Feeling almost as great as I look, Princess.” He smiled at her and gave her his signature wink. It was habit of his to “flirt” with her now after he had to spend any amount of time in a pod. He could hear the sighs travel around and could almost feel Keith roll his eyes in response.

“Yep, he’s fine.” Pidge said.

“No but seriously, how are you feeling Lance?”

“Well my body feels fine, but my vision is wrong. I can’t see out of my right eye. Do I need to go back into the pod for a little bit longer maybe? I might have come out too early.”

“Lance…” He watched as the faces of his teammates dropped to look at his feet instead of his face. “You can’t see out of your right eye because you no longer have a right eye…”

Lance just stared at Allura in shock. That couldn’t be right. He had to have his right eye. This has to be a mistake, that is the eye he uses to shoot and he can’t have lost it.

Shatter, pain, blood, black.

“No…” He held his hand up to his face. He could feel a line on his face that went straight down, almost to his lips, and sure enough it went straight across his closed eyelid that was missing the bump that would be normally remain there. He turned around to look at himself in the glass of the pod. His face was covered in small scars, but that he was used to- he just had a few more that have been added to his collection he got over the years of fighting. But now there was a red mark that traveled the length of his face, making his complection look dark and unrecognizable.

“We’re so sorry Lance, but not even a cryopod could fix what had happened to your eye. We did everything that we could with the limited amount of resources and time we had.” Allura’s voice sounded calm yet sad. He believed her though, he knew the risks of joining a war and now he was looking at the effects of them literally in the face using his reflection. He put on a smile and turned around to face the group.

“So Keith, do I look hotter with a scar across my face?”

Everyone rolled there eyes in response and Keith gave him a smile even though he could tell what Lance was doing. Hiding his pain within his jokes for the sake of everyone else. Always for the betterment of the team.

“Hunk, how is Shiro doing?” Matt chimed in. Lance turned and noticed that another pod was being used, occupied by shiro himself. He looked frail and still a little sickly but Lance knew the power that was hidden behind that look. He had experienced it first hand on the mission.

“He seems like he is healing well, but I think he will have to spend another quintant or so.”

“He will need some close supervision when he wakes up. Poor guy has a lot of catching up to do,” Pidge commented.

“Right. Well he is not the only one. I believe we have another member of the team that needs a run through of our most recent events.” Allura said as she turned and began to walk towards the door. “Lance, go freshen up and we’ll have a meeting in the control room in 30 doboshes.”

Lance took one last look at their former leader and turned back to Keith. Keith- still holding onto his arm- began to walk forward with him. They made their way back to Lance’s room to get a change of clothes so that he wouldn’t be stuck in the skin tight suit he had been wearing in the sleep pod. Over the years they had collected clothes and garments from the different planets they visited as well as buying a few from a few “Earth stores” in space malls and borrowing random clothing items from around the castle. But despite having all of this to choose from, he went with his old blue and white baseball shirt that had a couple of holes in the front from wearing too much. He was a little surprised it still fit him after so long but it had always been a little big and he didn’t think that his size had changed all that much. Instead of jeans he opted for his blue pajama pants. It was a recap meeting and he just got out of cryosleep- he was going to wear his pajamas.

“You’ll be okay won’t you?” Lance could hear the hesitation in Keith’s voice. He sounded scared of the words as if he was anticipating a bad response from them. Which he had the right to, Lance did in fact just lose his eye along with becoming the owner of a rather impressive scar.

“Yeah. I think I will be. I hope.” He looked up into the mirror that was on the wall of his room. Like with Hunk, Lance had never really paid attention to the changes that edged their way into his complexion over the years. Keith’s were extremely noticeable when he first came back- there was no way of missing the changes that took place over the time he was away from the team. It was the same with Shiro as well. Both people had obviously grown and their expressions had flipped from where they were when they first began this mission so long ago. But Lance- Lance had a hard time seeing much change in himself. When they arrived years ago at the castle- all Lance was able to see was a cargo pilot who got lucky. The second place winner- always one step behind the star pupil who had once again joined him. Never original. Never really needed. Just there. Now when he looked at himself he saw age. Lance never pictured himself to be the grown up type but he could see it in his own eyes the toll that war has taken on him but also hope- something that wasn’t present in the beginning. He was himself. Confident and genuine in his looks. He was roughed up but he had lost the selfish conceitedness that followed him around when he was 17 and now recognized his looks and how they remained despite the closed gash down his face.

He turned to look at Keith remembering how long it took him to get to the point that he is at now. He didn’t do it alone but he also would not be where he was now if he had attempted to take care of the situation himself.

“You know, I think that is the exact spot you were standing when you came into my room to apologize for making me break my hand,” Lance teased.

“If I remember correctly you broke your own hand because you were so head over heels in love with me that you couldn’t handle it.”

“Nope. I don’t remember it happening that way. Didn’t happen.”

Keith smiled in response but didn’t continue with the banter. He simply walked over to Lance’s door and opened it for the two of them to walk through. They made their way down to the control room where the rest of the team were waiting in their respective chairs minus Allura who was accompanied by Matt and Coran in the middle of the room.

“Ah Lance, Keith, please have a seat.” She pulled up the star map of the universe and suddenly they were all among the stars as if they were floating around in space right now. This was always Lance’s favorite part of this room. He liked the feeling of being surrounded by the stars. “This is the universe as we knew it when the four of you paladins first joined me and Coran about 5 deca-phebes ago.” She hit a button and the stars changed. Suddenly many of them were purple or red, with only a few lit up yellow. Lance knew what this was- it was the galra empire. They had seen this map on multiple occasions for planning but he doesn't remember the empire being so big when he first started.

“The purple is what was under full galra control, the red is completely destroyed planets and the yellow were all of the free planets remaining at the time,” Coran explained. All of them already knew this information though- it might have been the first time ever any of them were able to catch on to what he was talking about.

“And this is the galra empire as of right now.” Allura pressed another button and the entirety of what they were seeing changed. A few more red planets popped up but the purple planets significantly went down being replaced by yellow ones.

“Because of you and your work with Voltron- along with the help of the blade of marmora, Matt and the rebels and of course the rest of the coalition- we have managed to almost completely take out the galra empire. Prince Lotor is dead and the empire has begun to dismantle itself. There are only a few planets left that will just need some slight convincing and then we are looking at a universe free of the galra rule.”

“Woah woah woah woah… hold on there princess. Lotor is dead? How long was I in the pod for?”

“Just a couple of quintants. The battle that put you into that pod ended not much later on after that.”

“But how? You guys couldn’t even form Voltron! And not only that but you had two dying people to get out of the galra ship and into the castle.”

“We put you and Shiro into the red lion with some of the refugees from the ship and put in the castles coordinates. You guys went straight there but when Coran came and got you, you had lost a lot of blood. It worried all of us,” Pidge chimed in.

“It was insane dude. After Red left, we all boarded our lions and we’re coming up with a plan and Keith was all like ‘follow me’ and just straight up flew to where Lotors ship was. Pidge of course took care of the one we were on before we left it. But it was crazy, we took out so many enemy ships with just the four of us but Keith was on fire out there,” Hunk looked excited as he gave the details behind their victory not realizing how bad it made Lance feel that he wasn’t there to help fight.

“Wow you guys, so it’s really over? We get to go home now?”

“Well it’s not quite over. There are still a few small planets that are invaded by galra forces but those will be dismantled easily. You four, and hopefully Shiro when he is ready, are set to attend a few peace meetings in different galaxies. But once we finish those last few items of business, yes, you all will get to return to your home.”

She spoke as if the whole time they were here they were just some sort of intergalactic imbassadors arguing with other leaders over business matters. As if the last few years of their childhood hadn’t been taken away from them as they were swept up into a war that hardly concerned them when they joined. It almost didn’t seem real. If he wasn’t standing in an actual alien spaceship castle floating through the universe to a planet galaxies away from his home on earth, the whole thing seemed as if it could just be a fever dream. Some sort of hallucination that his mind had created to cover up something going on in his mind. Maybe he hadn’t actually been a pilot. Maybe he hadn’t fallen in love. Maybe he hadn’t been on the crazy dangerous adventure of a lifetime. Maybe it was all fake.

Keith must have noticed his soiraling because as soon as he felt the cool touch of Keith’s hand as it slipped into his own, he returned to reality. It was real. This was real.

“So princess, where to first?”

It was night time in the New Mexico desert that they had left years before after they entered back into Earth’s atmosphere.

They had said their goodbyes to Coran and the lions back in the castle when they finally completed their last mission and returned to planet Arus where the journey had begun. The five original paladins plus one princess and brother loaded into the blue lion as they had done so many years ago. They were finally going home. Lance had offered to fly since this would be the first time having been in Blue since the switch, but Allura had to take on the position seeing as Lance was still adjusting to having monocular vision. Losing an eye had impeded on his ability to perform certain tasks. He could still fly a lion but if something was in his blind spot he couldn’t see it in time to move out of the way. His aim was off a lot of the time when he shot now too. He had been right eye dominant when he used his bayard and though he was still really good with his left, it wasn’t the same. Not only that but it messed with his depth perception and so everyone decided it was better just to have Allura pilot them all back to Earth.

It was the most people that had ever been inside a lion at one time, the next most being the five of them when they arrived at the Castle of Lions. It was a tight squeeze but luckily they knew the ride wouldn’t be very long. In a matter of minutes they would be back on Earth. Home.

Lance let his mind wander to the possibilities of how much the planet could have changed. They didn’t even know exactly what year they would be returning to, even though they could take a pretty good guess. The world continued spinning without them and had no idea that because of them it was able to do so. He wondered if his family would recognize him. He wondered if Keith would come with him when he went home or if he would stay at his shack. Would they all be admitted back into the garrison? Would their story get out and they be world heros? Or would the only people on the planet to ever know about their mysterious disappearance be their families in the five of them? Would they even speak to each other in the years to follow, or would they all just remain apart of each others secret war driven past? Lance had looked forward to coming home and seeing his family again since they arrived, but now that he was leaving he realized that there was a possibility of him leaving his new family behind. He didn’t want to believe that that was even in the question.

The ride back to earth was silent. Moments later they felt the feet of Blue land on the hard desert ground.

“Now, be careful when you exit the lion. Coran said that the air here might make you sick from the smell and that you might be a little disoriented while trying to walk. It shouldn’t be bad on you guys since you have been in areas with gravity almost this whole time and exited and reentered other planets atmospheres perfectly fine.” She stared out at them sadly for a moment. “I don’t know how I could ever fully express how grateful I am that all of you- even if by mistake- found my castle. Without you the universe would have been taken over and the lives of uncountable innocent lives would have been taken. Our time together was long and rough and though I’m sad to see you go, you all have earned your freedom. I can only hope that the universe remains at peace, but I also hope that this won’t be our final goodbye. There couldn’t have been more brave and selfless people to become the paladins of Voltron.” They could all see her begin to tear up.

Shiro was the first person to go up to her, he took her hand in his and kissed it. “It was an honor to serve you princess- even though my service was of short time.” Her arms wrapped around him, holding him close.

“Oh I can’t take this anymore- group hug!” Hunk cried out while pulling every one in front of him towards Shiro and Allura to join their hug.

This really was the end of their adventure.

Allura opened up Blue to allow them go leave after they all said their goodbyes. They exited the lion for, as far as they knew, the last time ever. Lance put his hand on the cold blue metal after the entrance closed.

“Goodbye Blue. We had a good run.” He felt the dull hum in the back of his mind as if she was purring in response. They stepped back away from the robotic lion and watched as Allura powered her on and flew off into the night sky back out into the universe.

“Well now what?” Hunk asked the group.

“She dropped us off at the same place where we found the lion in the first place so we shouldn’t be all that far from my house.”

“You mean that wooden shack?” Pidge questioned. She was right, it wasn’t much of a house more than it was a shed like thing.

“Yes, Pidge. The wooden shack.”

They began making their way back towards the general direction where they believed the house would be. None of them actually thought out a plan for what their next steps would be once they made it back to Earth. Probably because it didn’t seem like reality to any of them yet. They were here. They may be lost, a little rough around the edges, and slightly queasy from the smell of the air, but they were all home and everything was okay now.

After what seemed like forever of walking around, Keith finally began to recognize some things around the area. The air was cold from it being nighttime in the middle of spring, despite being in the middle of the desert, and it almost felt as if it was going to rain. Lance kind of hoped that it would start. He missed the rain almost as much as he missed his family. Eventually they made it to the thing that Keith had called a house years before. It was still standing, but it looked like some of the windows had been broken through. Probably caused by the garrison after the four of them went missing with Shiro.

The sun was starting to rise in the distance which was good. It gave them a time estimate as well as light in a house that had no electricity.

“There will probably be people coming out to investigate what just landed in the middle of the desert soon. Probably the garrison, so we might not want to be here long. Do you think your radio still works Keith?” Shiro asked, making a point. They probably really didn’t want to be here when people sent search parties out. Especially the garrison. They probably got plenty of bad representation in the media after not just three of their members went missing a year before but also three current and one former student also disappearing. And all of them had seen how they were treating Shiro when he returned to earth. None of them wanted that. At all.

Keith went over and turned some of the dials on the several radios he had on a shelf. A few of them turned on blasting the static sound of an empty station out into the room. Keith turned the volume down on them and started flipping through stations. A few local music stations were playing songs that none of them had ever heard before. Keith just skipped past those unless they were on a commercial that might give them information on the date or time at all. Keith had found a news station that was giving them the weather, which gave them the date. The time was 6:30 in the morning on April 19th- no year added.

“Hey do any of you remember what frequencies the garrison used for communication? I might be able to find it if this one radio will work.” He hit the top of the one he had been messing with and it came to life. “Or not. Guess I didn’t change it after listening in that you had gotten back. I did spend a lot of time overhearing conversations on here.”

Shiro gave Keith a disapproving look before walking up to the radio and turning up the volume. It was only the crackle of silence that greeted them.

“Pidge, Hunk, Matt, my hoverbike was out back. Could you guys go see if you can get it to work again? We should probably stay here in case they say anything.” The three of them nodded and went out the door and walked around to the back where the bike was parked. Lance doubted it worked right now, if it even had any gas, being as it had been years since it was last used. But if anyone could get the thing to work again, it was those three. The three of them remaining inside sat on the couch waiting for a noise to be made on one of the radios.

“So what are we going to do when they get that thing fixed?” Lance asked. He was beginning to get worried about the fate of them all in the near future.

“Well, I have some spare money around here somewhere, so we can take that, hop on my hoverbike and fly down to the garrison if you guys think we could get away with it. Otherwise I figure we would just fly past it into the city and see if we can get somewhere from Albuquerque. I mean, I don’t have anywhere to go except here, but the rest of you have families to get back to. You can’t just stay out in the middle of the desert forever.”

“You aren’t really planning on staying here are you Keith?”

“It’s my only home Lance. It’s the only place I have ever lived outside of the house I lived in as a child in Texas and the garrison. Where else am I supposed to go?”

“Come with me. Back to Florida. You can meet my family and stay there for a while until we figure out what we are all going to do next.”

“I agree with Lance, Keith. You can’t stay out here in the house. It doesn’t even have windows anymore. If you don’t want to go to Florida then I’m sure you will be welcome to come with me to my parents house. They loved having you over the breaks when you were a student.”

“I can’t go to Florida with you Lance. You haven’t seen your family in who knows how long, I don’t want to get in the way of your reunion.”

“You won’t, I promise. But you just can’t stay here. I won’t let you.”

The door to the house opened, halting the conversation that they were having among themselves. Pidge stuck her head in through the crack.

“The bikes back on. I don’t know if we will all fit on there at one time though. I mean we barely all fit the first time and now we have an extra person. We could always try, but it might end up requiring two trips to wherever and you don’t have a huge amount of fuel left.”

Keith looked around the room and then back at Lance.

“Okay, we will figure it out in a minute. I have to grab a few things and then we can go.”

He began looking around the room for a few items. Almost everything had been knocked from the shelves sometime long ago during a search of the shack. He grabbed a bag out of a small closet that he had on a wall and began to put some things in it. He put his marmora knife in there, as well as two dusty books that had been knocked to the floor, and a blanket covered in several holes that was laying across the small dusty couch. He began to push the couch to the side and stepped on a few floorboards. One had a hollow sound when his food made contact with the wood and he got down on his knees to pry the loose board up. In there was wads of cash. More than would ever be expected for a guy that was living in a shack in the middle of a desert to have. He put all of it into his bag and threw the strap over his shoulder.

“I’m ready.”

“Where the quiznack did you get all of that money?”

“I’ve been saving it. And then my dad had some hidden here from when he lived here. And then he left me some when he went missing. Also just because I lived in a shack, we weren’t exactly poor Lance. I mean I got into the garrison, but I didn’t receive a full scholarship and I had my own hoverbike.”

“Fair points. I guess I always just thought that you had stolen the bike though.” Keith just rolled his eyes and the three of them walked out of the door and out back to where Hunk, Pidge and Matt were.

“Okay, I think we can all go at the same time as long as everyone holds on tight and doesn’t move a lot. It may be slow, but I’d rather be slow than risk not being able to get back. I think we should all just go straight into Albuquerque and figure out the rest from there. Pidge, Matt, do you still remember how to get to your house from the garrison, because we should go there first.” They both nodded in response.

Somehow they all managed to make themselves fit on the bike, balancing out the weight enough so that it was able to float completely off of the ground.

“Hold on tight, everybody.”

Keith began to move forward causing everybody to lurch forward. They might not have been going as fast as they could be, but it certainly wasn’t slow either. Keith flew straight ahead towards where the nearest road into the city would be. Once they made it to the road, they realized that it might look a little strange- not to mention a little illegal- to have so many people riding on a hoverbike at once, but they didn’t care. They had places to be. The sun had completely risen by now and the temperature around them had begun to rise. In the distance they could see the nearing city. At one point they passed a huge sign that read United States Galaxy Garrison: School of Military and Space Technology- next right. Lance just glanced at it as they quickly sped past, thinking of all of the things that could have been.

He blanked out for most of the ride, but somewhere in there Matt and Pidge had successfully navigated their way to the house that they had previously called home. He hadn’t been into the city since a few nights before their departure from planet earth, but it already looked different than it had when they had left. It made sense, they had been gone for years now. It was beginning to look like some of the civilizations that had been set up on other planets. Extremely futuristic and advanced. Lots of lights and almost everyone using hover vehicles now rather than on the ground cars- whereas before it had mainly just been bikes like Keith (which were big enough to practically be cars anyway). There were some new buildings that looked different from the modern that was modern when they left as well. But once they entered the neighborhood, everything looked as it was when they left it. The houses were still there as they had been for years and years. A few new ones stood out, but most of them were still the classic looking ones that they were all used to.

The Holt household looked like many of the other houses in the neighborhood. It was tan with the typical spanish style roof. Two storied and had a white garage. They figured the house still belonged to Pidge and Matt’s mother because the mailbox out front still read the Holt’s in big bold, red letters. Keith parked the bike in the driveway and they all got off the bike, hoping that she would be home. Matt grabbed Pidges hand as they walked up to the front door, the rest of the group following shortly behind. The doorbell rang.

“I already told you people…” She began as she opened the door, freezing when she looked up at her two children.

Lance had never seen Colleen Holt, but he had heard a lot about her. Her hair was down to her shoulders and there were hints of gray mixed in with the same light brown that covered Matt and Pidge’s heads. You could tell she was their mom, because besides the wrinkles that were beginning to form on her face the two now grown up kids were the spitting image of their mother. Her eyes were large, brown and sad. But right now she looked shocked- and as if she wasn’t breathing. She opened the door all the way slowly and reached her hands out as if she was going to touch the faces of the two kids she couldn’t believe were really there.

“Matt… Katie… Is that really you?” Tears were beginning to form in her eyes as the realization hit her that it was really them. Her arms wrapped around the back of both of their necks as she violently pulled them into the tightest hug that Lance had ever seen. Matt and Pidge let it happen as they wrapped their arms around their mother who they had not seen in way too long.

When they finally released each other, Mrs. Holt let everyone inside. They all gave a brief summary of the events that took place, explaining their disappearance as best as they could. Matt and Pidge would catch her up on the rest- filling in whatever details they could later. She was more than willing to let everyone stay there for the night to get some rest before they went out to find their families. Shiro would be staying with them for a while until he was able to go back out to San Francisco to try and find his parents. Meanwhile- Lance and Hunk would be going back to Florida where their families still remained and bring Keith along with them.

Lance and Keith were put in the spare bedroom for the night. Lance was so physically exhausted that it should have been extremely easy for him to sleep, but he couldn’t get his mind to rest. In just a few days he would be back with his family in Palmetto. But what if they weren’t okay? What if something happened to someone while he was gone? What if they didn’t recognize him when he got back? There were too many what if’s that were running through his mind. He knew he should be relieved to be back on earth where he belonged, but the only calming thing that he had at the moment was Keith who had already drifted to sleep hours ago. Eventually, during some point in the night, Lance was finally able to drift to sleep from the calming breathing of Keith beside him and the familiar sounds of planet earth outside.

The next morning after Colleen had fed them all an actual breakfast that they all devoured in matter of minutes and updated them briefly on the world as it was apparently almost six years from when they left later. She packed snacks for the three boys and insisted that they take her car since it was newer than Keith’s bike, it didn’t run on traditional fuel so they could get longer distances without stopping and since she mostly used her husband’s old car anyway, just for the sake of keeping it. Keith seemed hesitant to take the car, since he preferred his bike, but eventually gave in since they all couldn’t travel the full 26 hours on the back of the hoverbike.

This round of goodbyes was harder than the last ones with Allura and Coran. None of them in this moment knew what the future held for them. They had been connected in ways that no other people have been connected before- including being literally inside of their heads. Six years of saving the universe together and then suddenly it was over and they didn’t know when the next time they would be seeing any of the others again, if they ever would. Lance had to force the tears to stay behind. He had to stay strong. He hugged each of them individually, promising to get in touch when they made it to Florida. Hunk of course, called for a group hug again. Possibly the last one ever.

They dropped Hunk off at his family’s house. Lance and Keith didn’t stay around very long to see his mom’s reactions to him returning home. Lance couldn’t wait any longer. He was literally minutes away from him family and had been shaking so bad in the passenger's seat of the car for the past hour that Keith has asked him if he needed to pull over on multiple occasions.

Lance wasn’t sure why exactly he was getting so worked up about seeing his family. He knew he should be excited and relieved. After so many years they would get to see him and he would finally get to be home- the only place he could think about for the entirety of his space adventure. They would get to meet Keith and hopefully they would love him as much as he did. Maybe that was the source of his nerves. Or at least the thought that allowed for the others to form. To grow and fester that an infected wound that wouldn’t go away no matter what treatment it received. The wound has become Lance and Lance can never get rid of it no matter how hard he tries. Sometimes it just gets better for a while. Before, his family had been his treatment for it- and in space that job eventually turned to Keith, now he was about to have both.

Maybe it was time for it to completely heal.

Keith turned the final corner in the neighborhood, leaving Lance’s house to be only a blink away. His breath hitched in his throat as the car passed the familiar fronts of his neighbor’s yards. The red car pulled up to the curb and came to a stop. The driveway was full of cars, most he didn’t recognize. They looked newer, and they probably belonged to his older siblings. The engine cut off leaving the two of them in the dark, silent car waiting. Lance didn’t really want to go up right now. He was scared of what he would find. He knew it was still his home- but what if it wasn’t his home? He felt the cold touch of Keith’s hand as it folded itself over his shaking ones that rested in his lap.

“Are you ready?”

“I wish I was being asked that question six years ago instead of now.”

“What do you mean? Do you not want to go see them?”

“No. I want to see them more than anything in the world right now, but what if they don’t want to see me? What if too many things have changed and I can’t ever catch up again? What if they have moved on and left me in the dust? What if they don’t feel like my family anymore Keith? What the fuck am I supposed to do then?” He knew the thoughts were irrational, but they flowed through him. Taking over and controlling his thoughts. What if. What if? What if . It was becoming too much. Lance could feel his body starting to shake as the words rattled through his body, shaking him to his core. Becoming him.

“That is ridiculous, Lance. Of course they want to see you! Haven’t you seen how Pidge and Hunk moms reacted to them coming home. For six years, your families have thought all of you were dead at the age of 17. They are going to be thrilled when they find out their son is still alive. Lance, it’ll be okay. I promise. I’m here.”

He looked up at Keith’s face and saw how serious he was being. Lance didn’t have to look to know that he meant what he said though. Keith always took Lance’s moments seriously and always had Lance’s back. The problem wasn’t Keith though, the problem was Lance. It was always him. He knew everything Keith said was right but it felt so wrong that his whole body was rejecting it. Lance knew he couldn’t wait any longer for the inevitable though. He looked back down at their intertwined hands and squeezed his boyfriends in response to the one he was given earlier. I sign saying ‘I’m going to be okay. I promise.’

“We better go before it gets too late and everyone is asleep,” Keith said. He wasn’t pushing Lance but Lance took it as momentum to get up. He nodded and as he let go of Keith’s hand he opened the passengers side door and stepped out. He stretched for a moment as he waited for Keith to come around to his side. They locked hands again and made their way up the sidewalk to the blue front door of the house Lance had lived in his whole life.

Lance doesn’t remember ringing the doorbell. He doesn’t remember holding his breath. But his whole life comes back into focus when the door swings open revealing the aging face of his beautiful mother.

“Can I… Mijo…?”

“I’m so sorry Mami. I…” She paused for a moment, bringing her hand up and running her thumb along the scarred skin running down his face. A tear rolled down from his left eye and she stopped, reached forward and grabbed Lance, pulling him in as tight as she could. Lance wrapped his arms around her and leaned his head into her shoulder. Keith could tell by the way his shoulders were shaking that he was in tears.

Keith had seen Lance’s mother when they connected minds during training but not very often and definitely not recently. She was short, especially next to Lance who towered over her. Her hair was short and the same color as Lance’s but graying here and there. Her and him shared the same beautiful deep and soft skin. Lance seemed to get a lot of his looks from his mother, but Keith’s favorite were the eyes. As blue as the ocean and the holders of so much feeling and emotion. It was amazing. He just stood by watching as the two of them embraced each other for the first time in years. They didn’t break away until footsteps could be heard coming down the hall.

“Mama, it’s late. Who’s at the door?”

A girl with long brown hair and glasses came into the view of the doorway. She was about the same height as Lance, looked about 30 years old and was dressed in pajamas- obviously not planning to have come to the door.

“Hey Cami.” Lance waved to his oldest sister with his free hand being as his mom was holding onto the other arm as if she was never going to let it go.

“Holy fuck… it’s you!”

“Camilla! Watch your language!” Another voice came into the doorway. A man with a head full of gray hair and a trimmed beard. He was wearing a blue t-shirt and pajama pants, again dressed for something other than coming to the door as his daughter was. Lance’s father. “Son?”

Lance just stepped forward and brought his father in to a hug as he did with his mother. Mean while, Lance’s sister- Camilla- could be heard running into the next rooms announcing the return of the lost brother. Pretty soon there were six or seven people crowding around the doorway waiting to see if the word was true. Sure enough Lance McClain was back. He was finally home.

-1 week later -

The wind blew pulling a chill down his spine as little bits of hard sand came up to run over his legs and hands. The air was colder than normal and the sky was clouding back over for the second time today. It had rained earlier leaving the air lingering in the fresh scent from the morning shower. Most of the sand had dried on the beach and the sea was rushing around in the wind waiting to be stirred up again from the replenishing water that the sky was about to provide.

The beach was empty as of the moment minus Lance who had traveled down here alone. It was the first time he had been down to the beach since his reunion with his family only a week ago. Him and Keith hadn’t had time to come down here with all of the craziness that had followed with their return. So the moment the world began to mellow out for even a second, Lance followed the desire to run his hands through the white sand and waves and made his way on down here. Sure he felt guilty for leaving Keith alone in his house with his family but he was in the middle of playing some flight simulator game with his older brother Nick that he didn’t want to come between. Keith would be fine, they loved him from the moment Lance had said ‘this is Keith… my boyfriend.’

So he was alone. The only things to accompany him being his thoughts he can’t escape, the sea and old memories that danced around in his mind. Sure, this beach wasn’t Varadero with its lively atmosphere and green waters flowing with memories of a childhood from long ago, but it was something else special. It was the beach he spent most of his time on as a kid after they had moved here. It was where he belonged.

Lance tried not to think about the others. He hadn’t spoken to Pidge, Matt or Shiro much since their goodbye other than to tell them they made it. He tried not to think about Allura and Coran. Eventually he knew, the six of them would have to come together to come up with a plan on how they would address the fact that they were still alive to the world, but they had already saved the world so it at least owed them a break- so Lance decided he wouldn’t think about that either. It was hard though, not to relive the memories of a war in space. That was all he had known the past several years of his life and then it was dropped- the weight of the universe literally being lifted off his shoulders. He was as free as the ocean directly in front of him.

His mind began to wander as the sound of crashing water put him in a trance blocking out the entire world around him. He didn’t notice when the temperature began to drop more, or that the sun had begun to set in the distance. He didn’t notice the light footsteps coming up behind him either until a hand lightly fell on his shoulder pulling him awake.

“Your mom sent me down here to tell you that dinner is almost ready” Keith said as Lance turned his head over his left shoulder to look at his boyfriend smiling down at him. He watched as Keith’s face turned back up facing the sea out in front of him, hand still on Lance’s shoulder. Lance followed to where his eyes were looking. The scene in front of them was stunning. “So this is what you’ve been dying to show me all week, huh? It’s amazing.” Lance took hold of his hand and tugged him down to pull him in the sand beside him.

“We can go back in a minute. It’s always beautiful but it hardly ever looks like this.” The world may be cut off from his view on one side, but he didn't need both eyes to realize that this was the most beautiful thing he had ever laid eyes on.

The sky was cloudy and the sun setting causing the world around them to look purple. The reds and blues meeting in the middle, swirling their way around the clouds making shade of dark and light. The purple above was reflecting off the water making the forming and crashing waves of the never quiet sea turn a beautiful deep color unlike one Lance has ever seen. The world was still and silent in contrast of the recklessness of the ocean. It was the calm before the storm- waiting and preparing for what was to come. But how could anything ever go wrong when the world had the ability to look like this? Naturally beautiful and entirely mesmerizing.

Lance found the will to take his eyes off of the painting in front of him to look at Keith beside him. He was wearing an old green t-shirt of Lance’s and his black jeans. He had come out here barefoot and without a jacket as Lance had, obviously not expecting the temperature to begin dropping so much. The hair was standing up on his arms as the wind blew off the water straight towards him, but he didn’t seem to care. His long black hair was being forced behind him, clearing from his face and revealing a huge smile and soft eyes that looked happy and free- a look that Lance had rarely seen from Keith in the years he knew him.

There might have been an unknown impending future full of who knows what about to come for them but it didn’t matter in that moment. Nothing really did. Not the war. Not the future. Not his appearance and lack of vision that impaired the skills he had mastered in space. Not the seemingly constant, damaging thoughts that would make their way into Lance’s mind- making him feel hopeless and less than what he knew he was. None of it mattered because he knew that no matter what happened he would always have this and everything would be okay. When things went wrong- he could come back here, back home to this moment- and the world would find a way to fix itself again. Fixing him from his blue nature and allowing him to see the amazing red that his love right beside him, mending itself into a magnificent purple sea.

End .

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